Mona Lisa Blossoming m-2 Read online

  "Would they have killed him if he was?" I asked.

  "Yes."

  I didn't want to ask, to know, if they had killed others like this boy. Nothing here to take my rage out on if they had. Mona Louisa was gone. Although maybe the boy's mother was still here.

  "One of the women here had him." I said it as a fact, not a question.

  "Sweet Mother, is that what you do with Mixed Breed children here? Leave them in the swamps?" It was Rosemary who voiced that angry question. Rosemary, a Monère woman who had loved and raised her Mixed Blood children, keeping them with her instead of abandoning them to the humans. Or abandoning them in the swamp. Jesus.

  "Some women. Not all," Dontaine replied. "Mona Louisa did not care what they did with them."

  "God," I whispered. I turned to Gryphon. "You knew he was here. And you left him here. Like this."

  "I would have told you, after Dontaine. But you were upset. I thought that you had been through enough already tonight."

  "Not upset enough to leave this boy here like this." Gryphon knew my body intimately, but I wondered if he knew me at all. "Release him. Where's the key?"

  Gryphon shifted along the ring until he came to a smaller key, shorter than the rest. "If you will leave, I will free him."

  "No fucking way."

  He sighed, a faint sound of anger, of unhappiness. But he wasn't the only one angry and unhappy here.

  "It will be easier for the boy with less people here," he said.

  I had to agree with Gryphon about that. I turned around and scanned the faces present. Amber was too big, too intimidating. Of all the men there, slender Chami looked the least threatening. Funny how deceptive looks can be.

  "Chami, you stay. Everyone else leave."

  "Mona Lisa…" Amber said.

  Even quiet Tomas was protesting. "I don't think that's—"

  I held up my hand. "I'm staying. A woman will be less threatening to him. Everyone else out, now. That's an order."

  Obedience to a Queen was deeply ingrained, it seemed. They shut their mouths and left.

  I turned to Gryphon. "You, too."

  Something indecipherable rippled across that cool mask of his for a fleeting moment. Silently, he pushed the key into my hand and left. And the ache in my chest grew heavier.

  "No killing, Chami. just restrain him if you need to. But don't hurt him."

  Chami nodded his understanding.

  The door opened and Tersa slipped in. Her eyes glistened and her face was damp, as if she'd brushed away tears. Quiet, gentle Tersa no longer looked so gentle. Her eyes shone fiercely and she looked like she wanted to strangle someone—a heartless pure blood mother, perhaps. "Let me help."

  "No," I told Tersa softly.

  "I am the smallest. The least threatening."

  Tersa was even smaller than the boy. And so much more delicate that the thought of letting her anywhere near him chased my heart into my throat to beat there like a trapped, frightened thing. "No."

  Tersa looked at me, a girl who had hardly spoken aloud since she had been raped. A girl who had been careful to avoid close proximity to any man other than her brother.

  "He's like us. He could have been me or Jamie," she said. "See, he's stopped growling. He's looking at me curiously."

  I turned and saw that what she said was true. The boy was sniffing the air, his nostrils flared, his eyes intently focused on a person even smaller than himself. Intent and curious, as if she was an unknown entity. A girl.

  "Please," Tersa said, "let me try."

  It was the hardest thing to put that key in her hand. "If I say stop, you stop, and back up slowly from Wild Boy, here. Understand?"

  Tersa nodded. But it was an absentminded gesture, as if her attention were already focused on the boy she approached with care. "I'm Tersa. Tersa," she repeated, putting a hand on her chest, indicating her person. "I'm going to free you from those nasty chains. I won't hurt you," she murmured, coming close to him.

  He was staring at her intently, his eyes an unusual light gray, almost silvery in color—keen pale eyes peeking through a tangle of hair. His nostrils flared wide like a wild animal scenting for danger.

  Tersa was close enough now so that all it would take would be one lunge forward and he could rip into her with his teeth. I wanted badly to snatch her back to safety. But any sudden movement now might trigger the very violence I wanted to avoid. It was hard, so hard just to stand there and let her put herself in danger like that.

  She talked to him like he understood her, her voice a constant soothing murmur telling him she wanted to help him, that all of us wanted to help, as she inserted the key. It didn't matter what she said, what the actual words were. The tone, the gentle way she said it was the real message. I'm not going to hurt you. I want to help you.

  Slowly, carefully, gently, Tersa freed him from the first manacle, opening it and sliding it off. The loud sound of heavy metal clunking as it fell back against the wall was jarring in the tenseness. The boy shot Chami and me a quick piercing glance, assuring himself that we were still far enough away from him, that we hadn't moved, then returned his attention back to Tersa. He watched her as she crossed in front of him over to the other side and opened his other manacle. It clanked with a heavy thud against the wall, and he was free. His body was tense, quivering, ready to spring away. But he didn't move, even though his body clearly wanted to. He just stood there looking at Tersa, less than a foot between them, his head tilted just the slightest bit, as if the soft lilting words were as fascinating to him as the smallness of her person.

  "I'm going to give you my hand," Tersa said in her soft, soothing murmur, like water flowing gently in a stream. Slowly, she lifted one hand, held it out to him. "Take my hand and we'll leave this room. We'll leave this horrible place. Walk right out of here together."

  Moving as slowly as she had, the boy crouched down and brought his face closer to that small outstretched hand, sniffing it, inhaling Tersa's scent. She stood completely still as he edged closer. Her gentle flow of words dried up and stopped as he brought his face close to her arms, sniffed, and moved to her chest, her stomach, down the skirt of the dress she wore.

  Tersa took a deep breath in, let it out. Held still under his keen inspection of her. Finally, he was done, moving back a little.

  "See, harmless," Tersa said softly. She reached her hand once more out to him. "Give me your hand." She tapped her open palm twice as she said the word hand and pointed to his hand. She had his full attention, at least, if not his comprehension. I held my breath as Tersa slowly reached out that short distance and touched his hand. He quivered but otherwise didn't move as Tersa gently took his hand in hers.

  "See, it doesn't hurt," she murmured and smiled for the very first time. It transformed her face into something beautiful and the boy gazed at her, mesmerized.

  She took a little step toward the door and tugged on his hand. "Come on. Let's get out of here." He took a little step as well, allowing her to pull him forward.

  "I'm going to open the door," I said quietly. "Chami, go on out. I'll follow you."

  Chami didn't argue with me, good man. The door closed behind us then opened a moment later. Tersa came out leading the cautious, tense Wild Boy by the hand. His eyes darted around, taking everything in. His nostrils flared.

  The delicious aroma of cooking meat filled the hallway, like an invisible beckoning hand. I sent a silent thanks to wonderful, smart, kind-hearted Rosemary as we followed the scent out to the kitchen. Rosemary had cleared out the rest of the people so that the kitchen was empty but for her.

  "It's a bit on the raw side, but I don't think he'll mind," Rosemary said, setting down a plate of steak on the round kitchen table. A glass of water and cutlery sat neatly on the side, a butter knife instead of the usual sharp steak knife, thank you, God.

  Tersa led Wild Boy to the table, taking an empty seat. His eyes flickering from the meat to us, he sank hesitantly into the chair next to her. Chami, Rosemary, and I s
tayed back, giving them plenty of space.

  "Go ahead," Tersa said, gesturing to the food. "Eat."

  He lowered his head, sniffed it curiously, and sat back up. He didn't touch it, though he was obviously starved.

  "Tersa," I said. "Cut a small piece for yourself. Chew and swallow it. Show him that it's safe to eat."

  Wild Boy watched intently as Tersa used the knife and fork to cut off a tiny portion. "See," she said, after swallowing it. "Delicious."

  He didn't bother with the fork and knife. He just picked up the meat with both hands and took a huge tearing bite out of it, wary eyes fixed on us as he chewed hungrily. He gulped it down, barely taking time to chew, like a wild animal afraid that its food could be taken away from him at any moment.

  Rosemary took a deep breath and I saw the shine of tears in her eyes.

  Tersa picked up the glass of water, took a drink, and held it out to him. "Water."

  Awkwardly, he cupped the glass in his greasy hands, sniffed, and cautiously tipped the glass into his mouth, tasted, and swallowed. Satisfied it was nothing but water, he opened wide and poured the contents down his throat. Part of it trickled down his chin. It was heartbreakingly obvious everything was new to him, including cooked meat.

  "Should I make him more food?" Rosemary asked, speaking softly.

  "No," I answered. "Too much food and he might throw up. That's enough for now. Let it settle in his stomach."

  "Then if he's all through eating, a bath is what he should be having next," Rosemary declared.

  Tersa nodded in vehement agreement with her mother. "Absolutely."

  The idea of trying to give Wild Boy here a bath boggled my mind. Although, with Tersa, he'd been remarkably cooperative so far. Well, can't tell unless you try.

  We ended up using Dontaine's bathroom, the closest to us. The smell of blood in the room, on the mattress, along the walls, brought all of Wild Boy's senses quivering to the fore. He growled deep in his throat at the sight of Dontaine and watched carefully as the taller man slowly circled wide around him and left, ceding the room to us.

  My presence and Chami's didn't seem to bother him. He seemed willing to tolerate us. But Tersa was the only one he allowed close to him, warning us off with a low growl if we ventured too close.

  Rosemary left to rustle up some clothing. "And towels," I told her. "Lots and lots of towels." I ran the water in the tub, tepid temperature, reasoning that it would be what was most familiar to him.

  Hot water against his skin for the first time in his life was something I'd leave for a later adventure.

  The sound of running water drew the boy to the bathroom and he looked about the room in fascination. Unfortunately, the tub filled all too quickly. Now we were left with the hardest part, the quandary of how to get Wild Boy into the tub without him going ballistic on us.

  "Any ideas?" I said to Tersa.

  She shrugged. "I'll get into the tub first to show him what to do, like with eating." Kicking off her shoes, she stepped, dress and all, into the tub and sat down. Her skirt billowed up in front of her like a wet balloon. She pushed it down until all the material was submerged.

  "Water," she said, swirling her hand in the tub. I passed her a washcloth and she dipped it into the water, lathered it up with soap, and starting scrubbing her hands. "Wash."

  Wild Boy watched her with fascinated intent. His eyes narrowed, then grew round as Tersa lay back, submerging her hair. Sitting back up, she poured shampoo into her hand and proceeded to lather up her long mane.

  "Wash hair," she said. Leaning back, she submersed her hair once more, keeping her face above the water. Sitting up, she squeezed the water out of her long tresses. I passed her a towel, and she stepped out of the tub. Water splashed and dripped down, making a total mess of the floor. No help for it.

  "Your turn," Tersa said, pointing her hand at him. "Wash." She took his hand and led him, if not eagerly, then at least unresistingly to the tub. The bathroom was big enough so that I could keep a good distance away. The tub, thankfully, was also positioned so that he had a good visual of the bathroom and the bedroom beyond where Chami had stayed.

  Wild Boy stepped into the tub and sat down. Viola. Mission accomplished with hardly a splash. He was an intelligent creature and we had shown him what we wanted him to do.

  Tersa knelt down at the side of the tub, facing him, and started to soap up the washcloth. She started with his hands. Dip, rinse, and his hands came out of the water clean, his tanned skin looking almost startling white against the rest of his unwashed self. He looked at his cleaned skin with as much shock and absorption as we did.

  The water was already a swirling brown. By the time Tersa had scrubbed his chest, back, and legs, it was a muddy dark chocolate. He seemed fascinated with the slippery soap, playing with it as she washed him down.

  "Wash hair," Tersa said, pointing to the top of his head. She pantomimed laying her head back. Wild Boy let the soap slip from his hands into the water. With a quick checking glance around the room, pinpointing our locations—we hadn't moved—he focused his eyes back on Tersa, and in an act requiring so much trust on his part, he leaned back until his hair was beneath the water, leaving his throat open and vulnerable. With a surge he sat back up, splashing water on Tersa. She gave a startled little shriek and laughed. She actually laughed. It was a happy sound and he smiled at her. She smiled back.

  Shampooing his hair was the hardest part. Tersa ended up using almost half the bottle, making him dip back down several times to rinse.

  "I wish we could use conditioner," Tersa murmured, "and rinse him off with clean water." The tub was the consistency of muddy soup by now.

  "Next time," I said, handing her an armful of towels that Rosemary had brought in, and a clean shirt and pants that I recognized as Thaddeus's. Wild Boy watched my approach and retreat with alert eyes but no growl.

  "We've pushed our luck and his patience enough," I murmured. "Let's dry him off."

  Getting him dressed was another pantomime play. Once he understood that Tersa wanted him to take off his pants, he dropped them without a shred of modesty. Tersa calmly averted her eyes and handed him first the jeans, and then the oxford shirt. The latter she had to help button up when he didn't seem familiar with the process. A brilliant choice, that shirt. His sight was never blocked as it would have been had they pulled a T-shirt over his head. And no underwear or socks, just the two basic articles of clothing.

  We left his hair to dry naturally. The whine of a blow-dryer would have been beyond bearing for all our nerves, I think.

  The hard part actually came when Tersa moved to change out of her wet dress. Rosemary had brought her a change of clothes, leaving them on the bed. Chami stepped outside to give her privacy. Wild Boy, though, didn't like it when Tersa tried to shut the bathroom door, closing him in. He growled and pushed the door open. Neither did he like it when Tersa stepped into the bathroom herself and started to close the door, leaving him out in the bedroom. Another warning growl. We finally ended up with me holding two towels in front of her while she changed, leaving the discarded dress a sopping heap on the floor. I scooped up the dripping bundle and stuck it in the bathtub, wiped the soaked bathroom tiled floor with the damp towels, and left everything in the bathtub for someone else to clean up later.

  "What now?" Tersa asked, blinking sleepy eyes. Dawn had risen an hour ago and the sun was a low ball in the sky. No way of seeing it: The inside shutters had been closed over the windows and thick black-lined velvet curtains were drawn over them. But I could feel it with sharp awareness with a knowing part of me.

  A Mixed Blood, Tersa wasn't affected by the sun as the others were, their bodies growing weary and leaden, sleep pressing like a heavy blanket upon them. When she yawned, it was simply because her body had adjusted to the cycle. Awake at night. Asleep during the day. Now it was time to sleep.

  I gestured to the bed. "Think he'll sleep here?"

  "Not alone," she replied.

  It was h
ard to think. Like her, my body had become accustomed to the nightly hours we kept. And it had been a long night for me. For all of us. I forced my sluggish mind to think. I didn't like leaving Tersa alone with Wild Boy.

  Should I have Chami stay down here with them? No, scratch that. Accustomed though Wild Boy seemed to him, Tersa wouldn't be comfortable sleeping in the other man's presence. That left me. But after all I'd been through tonight, I needed some time alone to think, to shore up my battered heart, to push back my fears and hurt.

  Rosemary saved me by poking her head through the door. "I'll stay here with them, milady."

  I nodded. As I stumbled out of the room, Rosemary slipped in, the door closing softly behind her. Chami stood up from where he'd been sitting with his back against the wall. He moved without his usual grace and quickness, the only visible sign that he was feeling the soporific effects of the sun.

  "Where's Dontaine?" I asked.

  "I sent him upstairs. He's bunking with me tonight."

  "Good choice." Dontaine may have been wounded, but he was healing fast. He was a stranger and powerful. Formerly Mona Louisa's, maybe still hers. Chami would keep an eye on him.

  "Thanks, Chami, for everything tonight." I trudged down the hallway, heading, I hoped, for the spiral staircase that would lead me to my bedroom. "You were great."

  "You thank me?"

  Something in his voice made me stop and turn around.

  Chami wore an almost incredulous look. "When I had failed you?"

  I frowned. "You were perfect with Wild Boy there. Quiet, non-threatening."

  He gave a low, harsh laugh. "I did nothing."

  "Doing nothing was exactly what I needed you to do. How do you see that as failing me?"

  "I did not help you stop Dontaine from fighting Amber when you asked me for my aid."

  Ah. The challenge. It seemed so long ago now. I'd forgotten about it. Chami obviously hadn't. I sighed, gathered my wits about me. "That was my fault. I should not have asked you."

  Chami flinched as if I'd struck him.

  "I meant that I should have known better. Killing is what you do best, and I did not want Dontaine killed."