Lalin Bonheur Bewitched by Talons by Margaret O Howard

Author:Margaret O Howard
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: APALACHEE PRESS
Published: 2021-04-18T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER Thirty

For two days my lover sleeps. I make a visit to his Papa's office to tell him Etienne has been ill. So it is that Monsieur Legendre comes to my home on Rue Burgundy to visit with his son. It is good, he says, that Etienne's mama is visiting family on a plantation outside the city. She would be much disturbed by the news of her son's illness.

Papa and my protector talk for almost an hour. I serve them coffee with chicory and a plate of calas, sweet rice cakes. Although I leave them to speak in private, I can hear the conversation. Etienne never mentions the loup garou or the curse that afflicts him. I suppose he's right to not alarm his papa, but I wonder if a time will come when he must reveal the truth.

* * *

It's quite late when Etienne wakes again. His conversation with his papa made him weary. I know he hates to hide the facts but feels there's no need to disturb his family with his frightening story.

"Let's enjoy a glass of wine, my love," I say to him and see him smile.

"Yes, yes, let's relax together, my Lalin."

We take our glasses through the French doors and out into my courtyard. I glance up at the moon, which still looks full to my eyes. It's true though that it moves through its phases quicker than we can see. The total fullness lasts only for one night, if not less. I believe we are quite safe until the cycle completes again. This night brings cool breezes. Dazzling light from the glowing moon shines through the clouds, and stars like sparkling gems rise above the rooftops. A scent of jasmine blooming somewhere floats in the air.

Standing now in the center of my outdoor space, he takes me in his arms to give me one sweet kiss. Our lips melt together, tongues caressing. He leads me to my wrought iron bench, where we cuddle close. I feel the passion rising in him, but I wonder that he may need to release some painful tensions about what we've had to face.

My guess is true. His arms slide slowly from me. He still leans close, but I see he's wrestling with distressing thoughts. My hand he takes and holds on tight. "I find it's so difficult to describe what happened to me that night locked inside the carriage house." He stares down at our hands entwined together. "The transformation felt nothing like the shift that makes me be the ginger tabby."

We've placed our wine glasses on the stones beside the bench. He lifts his and takes a sip, offers me my glass. I touch mine to his to hear the crystal ring. He smiles, gives my hand a squeeze and then continues. "The changes to my body felt like bones breaking and bending in a painful twisting fashion. My head seemed to nearly burst with jaws and fangs that I couldn't see but knew were there. Hair bristled out my pores.

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