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He tracked William to a sprawling home, where large birds with metal beaks and claws guarded the perimeter. Once again, Puck was considered a nonthreat and ignored.
The preoccupied William had no idea he'd been followed.
See, Gillian? I'm the better warrior.
Finding a shadowed alcove on a balcony, Puck watched through a window as William placed the brunette atop a massive bed and tenderly wiped her brow with a rag.
"This isn't how I thought to spend your birthday week, poppet. You need to get better." Regret layered the male's voice. "Tomorrow is supposed to be the beginning...well, it doesn't matter right now." He brushed his knuckles along her jaw and said, "I'll be back."
The barest protest escaped her before he flashed away.
One minute passed, two. Ravaged by fever, Gillian tossed and turned. Puck hung back, awash in longing...sympathy?
With a curse, he focused inward to fortify the ice around his heart. He'd had enough of emotion, enough of Indifference.
How did the girl affect him so strongly, so quickly, anyway? And why was she sick? The potion should have strengthened her as she made the transition--
The answer slapped him upside the head, and his lungs constricted. Morte ad vitam. She couldn't make the transition. Her little body wanted to evolve, and continued to try, but it wasn't strong enough to finish the deed; with every hour that passed, she would weaken further.
She would weaken until she died.
A surge of fury and fear caused the ice to crack. As Puck's claws cut into his palms, a shout of denial brewing in the back of his throat, Indifference protested with a growl.
Careful. More ice. Now!
Puck calmed, even as he acknowledged the unacceptability of this development. Gillian wasn't permitted to die. They had to wed, and he had to use her to gain William's allegiance.
He would just have to proceed as if she would live--because she would! If William failed to save her, Puck would do so.
He considered his options. Approach her now and initiate a conversation? But how would he begin?
You know what they say--once you go beast, you'll always feast.
No. All wrong. He had to make her feel strong, brave and free.
Be mine, and you'll never again know weakness.
She might take one look at him and die from fright.
The outcome of a "meet cute" had never been so important. He needed to put his best foot--hoof--forward, needed to charm and seduce.
He thought back to his predemon days. Females had feared him, the Undefeated, but many had encouraged him, anyway. But whatever charisma he'd had, he'd lost. And his appearance...
Well, it hadn't always been the hindrance he'd expected. A certain type of woman liked his beastly form. Horns were in, and incredibly popular in romance novels.
He knew this, because he sometimes read books to Winter, at her request. Apparently phrases like "her succulent nipples" and "quivering desire" sounded amusing in his monotone voice. Whatever. In every story, Puck had identified most with the villain, but he could certainly role-play the part of hero. He could act like a knight in shining armor, at least for a little while, and offer to rescue his damsel in distress.
She wouldn't know the truth until far too late.
With a plan in mind, he stepped forward.
William materialized in the room with another immortal at his side, and Puck went still.
"This man is a doctor," William said. "He's going to examine you."
Her only response was a moan of pain.
The doctor spent the better part of an hour examining Gillian. When he whispered the diagnosis to William and proclaimed there was nothing he could do, William punched him so hard he flew into the far wall.
"Wh-what did he say?" Gillian asked.
"Doesn't matter. He's a quack," the warrior announced. "I'll find you another doctor. A better one."
He vanished, but still Puck hung back, expecting the male to return any--
William appeared with a second doctor...then a third and a fourth. Each one checked the girl's vitals as she slipped in and out of consciousness, trembling as William barked orders and issued threats. Blood was taken, tests run, but the diagnosis remained the same.
She would die sooner rather than later.
"Go to the living room," William commanded the plethora of physicians. "Set up a lab. Do more tests. Find a way to save her or die yourselves. And if you think to sneak away, know that I will find you, and I will hurt you. You'll pray for the day I kill you."
As they rushed to obey, he sat at the side of Gillian's bed, his expression gentling. "There, there, poppet." Once again, he wiped her brow with a rag. "You'll heal. That's an order."
"What's wrong with me?" she managed to rasp. "What did Keeley give me?"
"Something supernatural, but don't worry, I've got the best immortal doctors searching for a cure."
Puck pursed his lips. Why keep the full truth from her?
As Gillian fell into a fitful doze, the other male held her hand, perhaps attempting to will his strength into her fragile body.
Puck wanted to hate the male. He was ready to get off the bench and in the game.
At some point, William's father appeared. Hades, one of nine kings of the underworld. He was urbane but uncivilized. A tall, muscular man like William, with bronzed skin, jet-black hair and eyes so black they had no beginning or end. He had a silver hoop in his nose and stars tattooed on each of his knuckles.
How many other tattoos were hidden beneath his pin-striped suit?
"What's so special about her?" Hades asked.
"I'm not discussing her with you," William snapped.
"I'm discussing her with you, then. You can't be with her. You can't be with anyone. You know as well as I that your happiness walks hand in hand with your doom."
"I'm searching for a way to break my curse and--"
"You've been searching," Hades interjected. "For centuries."
"My book--"
"Is nonsense. A trick to make you hope for what can never be so that your demise will be sweeter--for your enemies. If the book could be decoded, it would have been decoded by now."
Puck didn't agree with Hades. In all his research, he'd heard much about the book of codes meant to save William from death at a lover's hand. Multiple sources had confirmed the book's validity.
"Did you come here to piss me off?" William grumbled.
"Pissing you off is a bonus," Hades said. "I came to warn you."
"Well, you've done both."
"No, son, I haven't." The king's voice hardened, sharp enough to cut steel. "The warning is this--if I think you're falling in love with this girl, I'll kill her myself."
William stiffened.
In a deep freeze one second and boiling with rage the next, Puck bowed up.
Kill Gillian, my key? Try, and see what happens.
With a war cry, William launched himself at Hades. A fierce, bloody battle ensued, nothing held back. Punches to the nose and teeth. Elbows to the chest and gut. Knees to the groin. And yet, one opponent never actually tried to kill the other.
They must have affection for each other, the way Puck and Sin--
No. Not Sin. No matter the provocation, an adoring brother would not curse another to a hellish eternity, forcing him to exist rather than live.
I would have rather died than hurt him. Now I'm willing to die in order to hurt him.
As Puck waited for the fight to end, he did his best to calm. But a weird buzz soon began to vibrate in the back of his mind, and if not for Indifference, he would have blamed the sensation on impatience.
Finally, Hades left. William petted the top of Gillian's head, muttered something about finding a better doctor and dematerialized.
Showtime.
Puck eased into the room, silent, and padded forward. Wait. Had he remembered to dress today? A quick glance down revealed his sheepskin pants had been torn so much they resembled a loincloth.
No matter. Barbarian chic really made his horns pop, and fit the whole romance-novel-hero mystique he'd hoped to convey. He might even pass for Prince Charming--well, a prince in need of true love's kiss.
Puck's pulse points spun into a wild rhythm when he reached the side of the bed and spied his future bride. He wasn't the only fairy-tale character in the room. Sleeping beauty lies before me.
Dark ribbons of hair spilled over the pale pink of the pillow. Her eyes were closed, long black lashes throwing shadows over her cheeks. A rosy flush spread over her delicate features as she parted her lips.
Practically begging for my kiss.
Focus! Keep this short and sweet. No telling when William would return.
"Gillian," he rasped, surprised by the husky tone of his voice.
A sweet fragrance wafted from her. Breathing in, he detected a note of poppiberries, and his head fogged. His blood heated. The butterfly tattoo sizzled on his torso, surely melting his skin.
