Free Roses & Thorns by Chris Anne Wolfe Page A

choked out against the
strangling dryness in her throat.
    "And
what am I? I hear your desire to ask even though your fears urge you to
silence!"
    "Would
you not have me know the one I would marry?"
    "Who?
Or what, my Lady?" The acid in Drew’s voice burned. "Are we
demons not all alike? Is it not enough to know we are demons?"
    Angelique,
frightened by the rage that swirled in the room as powerfully as the witch’s
windstorm, fought for control. Drew seemed like a serpent ready to strike and
she a helpless creature caught in its mesmerizing stare. Words evaded her
tongue. The silence deepened. Ashamed of her inability to speak, Angelique
tried to choke out an apology, but found her throat closed by tears.
    "Go
to bed, Angelique." Drew’s voice cut through the tension like a knife and fell
away. The room was suddenly ordinary again, and Drew was nothing more than the
bleak, hooded figure, half-hidden in shadows. In a flat voice, Drew said,
"Go to bed and dream of dancing and stars and happy things. There will be
no marriage between us."
    She
should have stayed. She should have protested. But Angelique could only run.
    The
night wind howled like a tormented animal. Angelique shivered uncontrollably in
the emptiness of her great bed. Neither the fine lace and satin sheets nor the
thickness of the eiderdown quilts did anything to ease the chill in her heart.
    She
could not imagine ever doing anything so terrible as to cause her mama to
disown her. Her mama’s love transcended all transgressions, no matter how
wicked. Of that she was sure. But that was exactly what had happened to Drew.
To be banished by the only family you had known simply because she had loved?
It didn't seem right somehow. Angelique shuddered. She struggled to make sense
of all that Drew had told her, but the words only echoed within her mind.
    A
crack broke through the howling winds. For an instant, complete, eerie quiet
descended. Angelique sat bolt upright, heart racing. That had been the shot of
powder and ball! Poachers!
    Slashing
torrents of rain struck suddenly at the window. Lightning flashed, illuminating
the darkened night, and thunder followed close behind, crashing across the sky.
Voices boomed abruptly in the courtyard below: Drew, Culdun and others.
    Angelique
snatched the red cloak from the foot of her bed and pulled open the doors to
the terrace. Drenching, icy waters pelted her, the force of the rain hard
against cloak and hair, stinging her face. The scream of Drew's white stallion
cut through the night, and she ran for the terrace's stone steps, unmindful of
her bare feet.
    "Go
back!" Drew shouted at her, looking fierce and dangerous high upon the
stallion's back. Angelique's eyes strained to see through the night and the
storm. Tying down saddlebags and readying the bridle, Culdun and two other Old
Ones turned to see Angelique standing half-soaked and barefoot in the rain.
    "My
Liege!" Angelique's voice lifted above the thunders shout, "you must
not go alone!"
    "Inside!"
The mighty stallion lifted, his war cry shrill. "The beasts are panicked.
They will flock to the palace grounds and I will not have you
harmed!"
    "But
Drew—"
    "Inside!" Thunder flew from Drew's hand and,
abruptly, Angelique found herself back in her room. The doors were fastened
tight, though they rattled in the wind. She tried the handles, but they remained
fast. She urgently rubbed the mist of her breath from the glass, straining to
see into the black depths. Lightning spiked down and she glimpsed horse and
rider. Then all vanished into the darkness. She waited anxiously for the next
bolt of lightning. But when it came, there was nothing left to be seen.
    Culdun
came in search of Angelique later, half to assure himself of her safety, she
guessed, and half to offer reassurance. But he did not expect the near-frozen
figure he found.
    Still
dressed in the wet cloak, dark hair straggly and pale skin chilled almost blue,
Angelique sat curled on the floor beside the doors.