Intoxicating than wine could ever be. Then he realized what she had said and commanded himself to stop

daydreaming.

“Why is it that you are not surprised by your pallor?”

“The roses in this part of the garden are sicker than the ones in the east,” she said between bites.

“Yes, I thought so, too.”

“Somehow I’m connected to them. They make me feel sick, too.”

“I guessed as much. You seemed to change when we entered this part of the gardens.”

“Do you know if this has happened to any other Empousa?”

“Each Empousa has a special bond with the roses,” he said slowly.

“It is in the blood of Hecate’s High Priestesses.”

“I already know that. Even back in Tulsa I had a connection to roses, and so did all the women in my family.

We always have. It’s—it’s a kind of family tradition.”

He thought she looked uncomfortable. Perhaps she missed her family? Or her old world? The thought made

his chest feel tight. Could there be a man for whom she was pining? Is that why she suddenly sounded so

awkward when she mentioned her old life? Before he could consider asking, Mikado continued.

“But what I want to know is have any of the other Empousas felt things because of the roses?”

“They may have, but I would not have known. The other Empousas rarely spoke to me.”

She looked surprised. “But you’re Guardian of the realm. Didn’t they need to talk to you about”—her hand

fluttered in the direction of the rose wall—“protection and whatnot?”

“Each Empousa knew I would do my duty. None felt the need to speak with me about it. If an Empousa felt

that any danger approached, she would call for me. Other than that, we rarely had the need to speak

together.” He thought of the Empousa who had come before Mikado and realized, again, shame at the ease

with which she had fooled him into believing she might care for him. That for generations the Empousas had

shunned him, taken his guardianship for granted, had been precisely the reason her ruse had worked so easily

on him. One or two kind words and he had been blind to anything except the chance that she might show him

another kindness.

Could that be what was happening with Mikado? Was he still so desperate for a woman’s gentleness that he

was becoming lost in yet another game?

But what game? Mikado did not know her destiny, so she had no reason to falsely seduce him.

“Asterius?”

The sound of his true name broke into the turbulence of his thoughts. “You must not call me that when any of

the women might overhear you.” His voice sounded rougher than he had intended, and he hated the hurt that

was reflected in her eyes.

“I’m sorry. I should have asked if you minded that I call you by your given name.”

“I do not mind.” He met her gaze, willing her to read within his eyes all that he was feeling and all that he

could not find words to say. “It is just that to the rest of them, I prefer to remain Guardian.”

“I understand,” she said.

“Do you? Do you know what power there is in a true name?”

“No,” she said softly, “tell me its power.”

“When you speak my true name, I hear it not with my ears, but with my soul. With that one word, you touch

my soul, Mikado.”

“The soul of a man, Asterius.”

“So the goddess tells me,” he said.

“You don’t believe her?”

“I would never lack belief in Hecate,” he said quickly.

“Then it’s yourself you don’t believe in,” Mikado said.

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He looked away from her too-knowing gaze and didn’t answer for several moments, during which he

unconsciously flexed and contracted his claws over and over. Then, reluctantly, he said, “Perhaps it is the

man inside the monster in which I have trouble believing.”

Then it was her turn to be silent. He could feel her thoughts. He couldn’t actually read them, but he knew that

she was thinking of him . . . considering . . . weighing her response.

“Maybe you need someone else to believe in the man, so you can quit seeing nothing but the monster.”

The meaning of her words jolted Asterius, and hope surged so sweetly within him that he felt the beast shiver

in response. “How can you see anything but the monster?” The depth of his emotions made his voice rumble

with the force of a growl, and even though he noticed that this time she didn’t flinch away from him, he

struggled to regain control. Through gritted teeth he said, “Look at me. Listen to me. I cannot even gentle my

voice to speak soft words to you! There is little that is manlike in my appearance.”

“Then I suppose I’ll just have to look deeper than your appearance.”

The smile that tilted her full lips made his heart beat painfully against his chest. He wanted to pull her into his

arms and crush her to him. But he could not—not here and now, and perhaps not ever. But he could touch

her. Just for an instant . . .

n iсЂd t

Asterius lifted his hand and let his fingers brush the side of her cheek. “Mikado, you make me believe that I

still dream,” he murmured as gently as possible.

She met his eyes. “Sometimes I think that would be nice. Gii told me that I have the power to weave dreams.

Maybe I’ll figure out how to weave one for us.”

His fingers began to sting, and reluctantly, he took them away from her face. She sighed, as if she, too, was

disappointed that he wasn’t still touching her. Then she gave herself a little shake.

“Dreams are for later. Right now let’s hurry up and eat. I’m still not done here, and I really do want to check

in with Nera and Gii before it gets too dark.”

So amazingly, he and Mikado ate the midday meal together within sight of many of the women of the realm,

who did often steal looks in their direction, trying hard to peer through the shadows of the ancient oak.

His inhumanly acute hearing caught the sound of the Elemental approaching before Mikado noticed her, and

he surreptitiously motioned for the shadows under their tree to lighten. Then he stood and moved aside,

purposefully giving the appearance that he might only be there to wait on the Empousa’s next command

instead of sitting close beside her, sharing an intimate meal.

“Empousa, the women have finished their meal,” Floga said after sliding a narrowed glance at the Guardian.

“Good! We’re done here, too.”

Then, very deliberately, Mikado held out her hand to him. Asterius hesitated only an instant before taking it in

his own and helping the priestess to her feet. She smiled and thanked him as if he were a man accustomed to

the touch of a woman’s hand. Then she turned to the staring Fire Elemental.

“Let’s get back to work.”

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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“I’M glad the palace is situated in the north so Gii and her group of women are in charge of the roses

surrounding it,” Mikki told Asterius as they watched the Earth Elemental pass the word to her women that

they were done for the day.

“It’s obvious that you and she are becoming friends,” Asterius said.

“Yes, we are,” she said, thinking that it was just as obvious that the Elemental was uncomfortable with her

Empousa’s familiarity with the Guardian.

“It’s not surprising that the two of you are compatible. Earth and roses fit naturally together.”

“You’re right—they do.”

Gii would just have to get used to having Asterius around. Mikki didn’t think it would be too tough for the

Elemental to do that. All she needed to do was to quit thinking of him as a beast, and she’d soon see what

Mikki saw—the man within. It hadn’t been that hard for her. How difficult could it be for the rest of them?

“I should go now, Mikado. The handmaidens will want time alone with you, and there are duties to which I

must attend.”

She looked up at him, surprised that she could be sad to part from him after spending the whole day in his

company. She usually got sick of being around a man in less than half that time. “Will you come back?”

Mikki watched his eyes darken and he said, “If you call for me, I will come to you.”

“Then I’ll call,” she said.

He bowed formally to her just as the four handmaidens approached them. Mikki noted how each of them

looked obviously relieved when Asterius turned and disappeared into the shadows of the darkening garden.

She pushed down the annoyance she felt. They had worked hard today; they were all tired. And it really

would be unreasonable of her to expect the women to change the way they felt about Asterius in just a couple

days. The other Empousas had treated their Guardian like an animal; it was logical, then, that was how the

women of the realm would treat him. Mikki would just have to lead by example. They were smart girls—

they’d catch on.

“Are you four as ready for a long soak as I am?”

THIS evening was even cooler than the one before, and steam from the baths veiled everything in a warm,

damp mist. Mikki leaned back against the smooth side of her private bath and fed herself another grape. She

was pleasantly full and a little tipsy from the wine. She hadn’t planned on having dinner with the women.

She’d planned on taking a quick bath and then retreating to her room and another private dinner with

Asterius, but the women had been hungry, and, after all, who could bathe quickly when the “tub” was this

spectacular and the company was so enjoyable?

And Mikki was sincerely enjoying the company. The handmaidens were tired after another long day, but they

didn’t whine or complain. Instead, they talked about the work they’d done in their separate areas and asked

Mikki countless questions about rose care. Already plans for tomorrow were discussed. The fertilizing would

continue, but some women would begin deadheading old blooms or blossoms that looked like they were too

far gone to ever open. Mikki agreed to show the Elementals examples of both in the morning.

“I think we’ve conquered the hardest part of what we need to do to coax the roses into recovery. Most of the

fertilizing will be finished tomorrow. Then we’ll focus on the deadheading and cutting off of any useless

canes. After that, we just keep an eye on them and wait.”

“How long before they begin recovering?” Gii asked.

“It doesn’t take long for a good fertilizer to start working, especially if all that’s wrong with the roses is that

they needed to be fed. We should see a change in them soon.”

“And if we don’t?” Floga asked.

“Then I try something else. I have more tricks up my sleeve.” She raised her wet, naked arm and wiggled it

around, causing the young women to giggle.

“Perhaps you should cast a health spell for the roses,” Nera said.

“You know, as you would if one of the women of the realm asked you to cast a spell to rid her of a persistent

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ague.”

“It is a good idea,” Aeras said.

“It certainly couldn’t do any harm,” the Fire Elemental said as she nibbled at a fig.

“And it might very well do a great deal of good,” Gii added.

Feeling totally out of her realm of experience, Mikki wished desperately that her new job/destiny had come

with an owner’s manual.

“It would be like the self-initiation ritual. The four of us will be there when you cast the sacred circle and then

you simply follow your heart.” Gii’s smile was filled with kindness. “You’ll know what to do, Empousa.”

“You may as well begin with a spell for something you know as intimately as roses; it will be easier that way.

And anyway, it’s only a matter of time before the women in the realm begin coming to you for the typical

love spells and such,” Floga said.

“She’s right, Empousa,” Gii said.

“Love spells and such?” Mikki sputtered.

Aeras sighed wistfully. “Love spells . . . it has been so long.”

“Too long!” Floga said.

“Actually,” Nera began hesitantly, “I have been wondering. If perhaps—well, if you might . . .” The little

Water Elemental paused. She looked nervously at the other handmaidens, who nodded encouragement. She

sank a little lower in the steaming water, as if drawing strength from her element, and then she finished in a

rush, “I wondered if you might agree to cast an invitation spell for me and, well, a few others.”

Mikki noted the pink flush that colored the Elemental’s cheeks, and she didn’t think it was from the warm

water.

“I’d be happy to cast an invitation spell for you—and your friends. But what are we inviting and where?”

“The what is men,” Nera said shyly, her cheeks turning from pink to red.

“And the where is here,” Floga purred.

“Huh,” Mikki said. “I was going to ask about the absence of men.”

“There are no men in the Realm of the Rose,” Gii said.

“You mean except for the Guardian,” Mikki said.

Gii frowned. “The Guardian is not a man. He is a beast.”

Mikki opened her mouth to protest, but Floga was already speaking. “There are no men in the realm because

they can only come here if the Empousa sends an invitation spell to the ancient world. There has been no

Empousa in the realm; hence no men have been invited.”

Mikki stared at the Fire Elemental. “Are you telling me that for as long as the Guardian was banished and the

Empousa gone you have been here without any men?”

“Yes,” the Four Elementals said together.

“How long has it been?”

For a moment no one answered her. Then Gii whispered, “It has been a very long time, Empousa.”

And she thought her love life sucked. She was queen of romance compared to these girls.

“Then I’ll definitely do an invitation spell. A big one—right away.”

Gii laughed. “Tomorrow will be soon enough, Empousa. Tonight we are too tired to have the invitation be of

much use to us.”

“Then tomorrow it will be. How about we only work till midday and then I’ll cast a circle and try a little spell

work?”

“Just don’t make my invitation little,” Floga gibed. “Little men do not interest me, even after all this time.”

Nera giggled and flicked her wrist at the Fire Elemental, causing water to spew from her bath all over Floga.

Gii called her too hot-blooded, and Aeras joked that if Floga needed a breath of cold northern wind she could

certainly provide it for her. Mikki smiled and watched their good-humored play, but her mind was not on the

handmaidens. She thought instead of bronze skin, a deep, powerful voice, and how candlelight looked glinting

off ebony horns.

Would she always be nervous before she called him? Mikki looked around the balcony, for the zillionth time

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checking that she was alone. The table was ready. It was set with a pitcher of wine and two goblets. She

hoped he had not waited to eat with her. She hadn’t asked him to. Had she? No—no, she remembered asking

only if he would come to her—not come to her and have dinner again. She ran a hand down the soft material

of her chiton. This evening it was made of some kind of fabulous material that hugged her body like silk, and