Sunny - Mona Lisa Darkening

"Not so much uncomfortable as surprised. It's an unlikely pairing, you and me. Like hitching a beautiful race horse with a clumsy nag."

"If you are going to cut me off at the knees, at least be truthful about why you are doing so!" he said abruptly. The sudden spill of hot emotions from Dontaine surprised me enough to pull the car over onto the side of the road.

"What are you talking about, Dontaine?"

"You reject me because you do not trust me! You believe that once a traitor, always a traitor!"

I shook my head, at a total loss. "I don't have any idea of what you're talking about."

"I almost betrayed you once!" he burst out. "I fully intended to. You know that — you had to know that. You had to have suspected."

"Suspected what?"

"That Mona Louisa left me behind in the hopes that you would take me to your bed, so that I could betray you to her." Anger, guilty torment etched harsh lines across his face, and still he remained exquisitely handsome, enough to take my breath away.

"What changed your mind?"

"What?"

"You said you intended to betray me, Dontaine. What changed your mind?"

"You did," he whispered. "You were supposed to fall under my spell. But I was the one bewitched instead. That night when you cared for me after my challenge battle with Amber, I thought you did so with the intention of bedding me to acquire my gift of Half Change." He had the rare ability to arrest his change in a state that was halfway between man and wolf. Not the mutant half-half form down in NetherHell, but a true blending of both states, so that he became the werewolf of human folklore.

I was aghast that he had thought sex my only intent in helping him. "God, Dontaine. You thought I wanted to have sex with you, when you were so gravely injured, choking in your own spit and blood?"

"I was willing."

"I know."

"But you didn't want me. You cared for me, washed me, cleaned me with your own hands, saw to my comfort."

"There was no one else. I was the closest thing we had to a healer at that time."

"And when I was healed enough, you elevated my status to your master at arms, even though I had lost the challenge. Even though you had not taken me to your bed, or benefited from me in any way."

"I benefited from your experience, your knowledge, your established relationship with the people here. I trusted you, and you honored that trust."

"But for one moment, just before I rescued you, you thought that I had betrayed you."

I didn't try to deny it. He'd seen that belief in my eyes. "But you didn't."

"No," he said with soft bitterness. "I betrayed my former Queen instead, and damned myself in your eyes as a traitor."

"No, Dontaine, you didn't." I grabbed his hand, and was surprised to feel only a gentle buzz from the contact instead of the usual strong zap of electrical power. I hadn't known Dontaine was able to control himself that well when his emotions were riding so high.

"Then why?" he asked, clearly distraught. "Why do you continue to reject me?"

"Because of what I told you before. I never understood why you chose me over Mona Louisa. She's beautiful, which I am not, and a Full Blood Monère Queen, which I'm also not. And she favored you."

"Whereas you obviously do not."

"Dontaine…"

"Do you truly trust me?" he asked.

"Of course I do. You are my master of arms. You've rescued me, more than once, proven yourself true many times."

"Then that nonsense you spouted before, about my being the golden boy and you being plain… that really is why you push me away?"

I nodded and said softly, "I'm sorry, Dontaine."

"You make no sense, you know. I am no longer the most favored by my Queen. But perhaps that is in my favor. At least I am still by your side."

A cruelly accurate jab. Gryphon was gone; Amber sent away to rule another territory.

"No, don't draw back," Dontaine murmured, his hand tightening around mine. "Forgive me for letting my own hurt and frustration to spill out like that. Blessed Night. You are so different from other Queens." He looked at me like a puzzle he could figure out, if only he could see the pieces clearly enough. Drawing my hand with a thoughtful gesture to his face, he asked, "Would you care for me more if I were ugly? Scarred?"

I jerked my hand away, horrified. "Don't you dare do anything so stupid! I forbid you! No scars, no trying to turn yourself ugly for me." Then some of the panic eased as common sense asserted itself. "I forgot. Monères don't scar. We heal too quickly."

"We can scar. With the addition of certain chemicals, we can be left with permanent scars."

"Dontaine," I said clearly, carefully. "I never want you to do that for me. Your scars would flay me, and my guilt over it would drive me away from you more surely than your handsome face does now. I know my reasoning is not the soundest, that I probably don't make sense to you, but hurting yourself, leaving visible wounds on your face… it wouldn't help. It would only make matters worse, much worse. Promise me that you will never do anything like that."

He bowed his head. "As you command."

"Say it!"

His eyes lifted, met mine. "I will not deliberately try to scar myself."

"Too conditional. Say that you will not scar yourself."

"I cannot promise you that. It may one day be another's intent to inflict that on me, beyond my control."

"Then promise that you will do your best never to permanently scar yourself or allow another to do so to you."

"I give you my oath that I will do my best never to permanently scar myself or allow another to inflict that upon me."

Only when he had made that promise, did my heart ease.

"Do my looks please you then?" he asked.

When you cared for someone, you should make them happy, confident with themselves, not discontent, not wanting to turn themselves ugly, I thought sadly. I looked at this breathtakingly handsome warrior before me, and did not know what to do with him.

"Yes, Dontaine, your handsome face, your beautiful body pleases me very much. I would be very unhappy if you allowed yourself to become damaged on purpose."

My words made him happy. Made him smile. "I will find another way to make us seem more of an equal match in your eyes," he said with determination. An impossible task, I wanted to say. But I didn't. Silence here was much wiser.

We parked in front of the public library, across the street from my brother's car. His heartbeat, slower than the other fast beats around him, told me that he was inside. Chami, on the other hand, was not. The sudden flare of his Monère presence next to four human heartbeats had Dontaine and me rushing around the back of the building to find Chami faced off with four high school boys. Yes, boys, even though they were as tall or taller than Chami, and with far beefier builds. Seniors. Big bruisers wearing varsity letter jackets. Football jocks, if I wasn't mistaken. The same ones, I was willing to bet, that had beaten up my brother a week ago.

The realization spiked my anger and also my confusion. "I thought you were going to let Thaddeus defend himself," I said to Chami. My words turned all their faces to me, and I caught sight of a black eye on one boy, and a cut swollen lip on another guy.

"I did," Chami said, "and your brother kicked two of their asses yesterday quite nicely, as you can see. Unfortunately, they did not seem to have learned their lesson. They're back with two more of their buddies. Four against one, boys? Very flattering, but grossly uneven odds against a kid one year younger and forty pounds lighter than any of you."

"So what? The three of you going to take us on?" sneered the tallest brute, the guy with the black eye. He seemed to be the ringleader. To my amusement, he eyed Dontaine warily, mistaking him as the biggest threat, not the slender assassin standing right in front of him.