Chapter 12

It felt like a lengthy wait to see her finally free the entirety of his once treasured blade. He watched her as she carefully peeled the rotting pieces of the scabbard from the blade. As more of the steel was revealed to him, he took a shaky breath; it was intact. However tarnished and neglected, the whole of it was in her hands, from pommel to point. The etching on the blade still resembled that of the tattoo on his arm. “I am astounded at this moment.”

Randy placed the filthy weapon across her knees. “It’s incredible, Jareth.”

“Indeed. Once it was believed the skill of man lay in the quality of his weapon.” He shrugged. “I assured the quality was unlike any other.”

She grinned at him. “I’m sure you were really skilled, too.”

“I was often told as much, mayhap not all together kindly.” He looked back at the blade. “I long to hold the grip with my hand.”

A heat shot through her as she pictured him standing tall and fierce, holding the weapon in his hand. She cleared her throat, knowing now was not the time to fantasize. She looked back at the ground. “Is there more here we should dig for?”

“Nothing as dear as what lies over your legs.” He looked around. “I would only bring my sword, finely concealed, to this place; most other things of value or meaning I left in my cabin on the Calico.”

Nodding, she watched the expression change on his face. He missed the water and his ship more than he would ever admit. “Let’s go back, then.” Randy stood up, holding the sword on both hands gently. It might be steel, but she wasn’t completely sure of how strong it still was.

He straightened and looked at her. His eyes moved over her slowly. “I’ve a wish to thank you for this find.”

Her eyes flew to him when he used the tone. The tone that told her he was first, in his pirate state of mind, and second, aroused; both of which made her instantly hot. His eyes were dark again, and he looked almost dangerous. He took a few steps toward her and she felt herself step back. Why her feet were moving away from him she wasn’t sure. The way his eyes were possessively moving over her made her shiver in anticipation. Her back came up against the trunk of a huge tree and she gasped in surprise. He kept moving toward her. “Jareth...I don’t know...whether to be turned on or scared when you look at me like that...”

“Both,” he rasped quietly. He stopped so close to her that she would have felt his body’s warmth.

“Jareth...” She lowered the heavy weapon to her side with one hand and reached toward his arm. Her eyes flew to his face when she felt the warmth of flesh in her fingers. She squeezed her fingers lightly just to make sure she wasn’t having some kind of fantastic hallucination.

He looked down to her hand with his brows furrowed. “You touch me!” He grasped her hand with his. “How?”

“I don’t know,” Randy whispered, still only half-believing this was really happening.

“I have not felt the warmth of another against my flesh in all these years, Miranda.” He reached with one hand hesitantly and touched her cheek; her skin was soft and warm. “Please do not release me yet...I fear what is happening will be gone forever.”

Randy’s heart was jumping in her chest as she leaned against the tree and watched his eyes move over her. His hand stroked her cheek twice, before moving down to rest against the side of her neck. As his thumb brushed over her lips she could feel his fingers feed up into her hair. He really was as large a man as she’d thought. She swallowed and watched his head lower to hers.

As his mouth brushed hers, testing the realness of it, he felt her small hand move up into his hair. It tangled there, causing him to gasp against her lips; it felt so good to be touched.

He leaned his body into hers and inhaled her scent. Every inch of his flesh burned and revelled in the feel of her body next to his. He pulled at her hip and crushed his mouth down on hers, drinking his fill of the taste of her. Her hot tongue danced with his own, and his hips rocked into hers. To feel such contact after so long was heavenly—he was going to sample each sensation possible.

Jareth lifted his mouth from hers if for no reason than to suck air inside his body. “Miranda...” She grasped his hair and dragged his mouth back to her own. He obliged and assaulted her mouth with his own. Dropping his hand from her hip, he shoved it betwixt the rough bark of the tree to cup her bottom that had delighted him on each sight. She moaned into his mouth and pulled his head closer, biting his lip.

The warmth of her flesh quickly began to fade from him. He lifted his head and looked down at her. The look of horror in her eyes confirmed his own suspicions; his form was waning back once more. In desperation he kissed her fleetingly again, before stepping back. He would not feel the humiliation of her finding she held nothing in a moment’s time. “Blast!” He spun and looked around the field, assuring they were alone and this had not been some prank played on the both of them.

“What happened?” She took a few deep breaths. The look in her eyes reflected his own frustration and desire.

His heart ached at the sight of her, looking so recently kissed, standing there with his blade in her small hand down by her side. “That was rather like a bucket of cold water splashed on my head.”

Shaking her head, she took a quick breath. “No doubt. The timing sucked bubbles!”

He could not prevent the smile from reaching his mouth at her choice of words. “Indeed, it did.” He inhaled and still held her subtle scent in his mind. He licked his lips and still tasted her heat. “I find regret for it, but having tasted the first in so long a wait I cannot find fault in that it was of you.”

She pushed away from the tree. “Just don’t talk like that for a minute. My legs are mush and my heart is still pounding. I need a minute here.”

He gave her a devilish grin. “Had I been given longer moments I would have quite exhaustively completed what we began, little one.”

She held her hand up and looked away from him. “Not another word, Jareth, I’m serious. I have to be able to walk out of here.”

Putting his head down he mockingly tried to express repentance, though he felt quite otherwise. “As you wish.”

She took a few deep breaths and then lifted the sword back to both hands to study it. “So was it this place, or this?” She motioned to the heavy weapon in her hand.

Finding serious thought again, he shook his head. “I cannot know for certain. As I have not once experienced any of these new...events before, I find many questions leading me to wonder if it is in fact you and nothing more.”

“What?” She loved his way with words and all that, but right now she needed it in plain, here-today English. “You think it’s me?”

He finally felt in control enough to step closer to her. “I am inclined to believe so. This place”—he waved a hand to regard the field—“brought me nothing when I last was within the walls as they still stood.” He paused. “And believe me when I say I spent many decades within at the first of this.” He pointed to the sword. “That hung in its place then, as well.” He looked from her messed hair and soil-smudged clothes down to her painted toenails. “It only brings me to the assumption that it is you, my little Miranda, testing the limits of this curse.”

She frowned at him. “But I don’t get it. Why me? I had nothing to do with the curse. How could I when I wasn’t even born until over two hundred years later?”

“I am unclear on that, as well. But the fact stands before us that you are in some way important in all of this.” He smiled at her. “It has been two hundred and forty-eight years since last I felt my own flesh, and yet with you I was given it for a few too-short moments in time.”

“Definitely too short,” she mumbled, her eyes still looking heavy with lust as she looked upon him. She took a ragged breath. “We have to get out of here.” She started walking toward the car, holding the blade in the air with one hand and her skirt up with the other.

She watched him and he had to wonder if she could tell how many thoughts were frantically circling his brain at once.

“I thought you longed to hold the sword again? I didn’t see you even go near it.”

He studied her for a moment and then shot her a heated look. “My priorities changed hastily.” She bit her lip and searched his eyes. “There was only you, Miranda, the rest paled after you.”

“We are so breaking this damn curse and soon!” She turned and walked faster toward her car.

~

Freshly showered, she looked out the window at her car. “I can’t believe it just started right up when we got in it.” She looked over at him studying the sword on her table. “How did it know to die there all the time?”

Jareth glanced at her briefly and then back to his blade. “There are many unexplained forces in the world, little one.” He paused to reflect for a moment. “Thank you once more for going slowly so I could begin to understand how to ride in a car.”

“And you didn’t even turn green this time. Are you going to look at that all day? We should check the e-mails.” She moved over and sat at her computer.

He winked at her. “I find my sanity more assuredly safe if I keep my stare to my weapon and not upon your body.”

“Okay then.” She sighed. “Do you think it will happen again?”

He hissed out a frustrated breath. “One can only hope.”

“Yeah.” She pouted. Flipping through the responses, she sat up and read the words on the screen. “I think we may have gotten a real reply.”

“Truly?” He got up and stood behind her to measure the words on the screen.

She read quickly. “This one isn’t even trying to sell her services, so maybe...”

“I find that reassuring in small measures when comparing to the other responses that have been sent.” He read the words again to be certain he felt their full meaning. “If I read this correctly, it states we must meet the conditions of the curse or return the object procured.”

Randy nodded and then groaned. “You did. So we’re back where we were. We have an unnamed gypsy bitch and a verse we don’t understand.” She tilted her head back and looked up at him. “Maybe the curse is weakening or something; it’s been a long time.”

Jareth looked down upon her. “I pray it is so, but I am not convinced.” He reached a hand to cup her head and felt only the tingle go through his skin.

“We—”

A loud knock on the door made her jump to her feet. She looked at Jareth and then back toward the door. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

He had heard her words and fully intended to stay within the small room, when he heard her tone at the front door, and was compelled to find out what was going on.

Randy stood there, her mouth gaping. “Mom?” She assessed the thin woman standing outside her door. Her cheekbones were drawn, and somewhere under all the makeup was her mother’s face. “What are you doing here?” She watched her mother flip her long, wavy blond hair behind her shoulder and paste a smile on her face.

“I came to see you, Randy. Why else would I come back to this hole?” She walked past her daughter and into the house.

Randy released the door to close it, only to realize she hadn’t pushed it hard enough and leaned over to push it shut. “This ‘hole’ is my home, thanks.” She turned back to look at her mother, who was trying to hide a too thin body under the too tight, expensive pants and silky blouse.

Beth Story turned and smiled at her daughter. “I know, sweetie, I’m sorry. This place just”—she shivered—“it still gets to me.”

Crossing her arms, she gave her a doubtful look. “You could have called; then you wouldn’t have had to come here.”

She dropped her bag beside the door and stepped in farther. “I just needed to get away for a few days...”

Randy looked at the size of the bag she had dropped. “Problems with Bryce?”

Her mother laughed. “Bryce was over a year ago, silly. I’ve been with Dalton for six months now.”

“Oh, right. Problems with Dalton, then?” She glanced over to see a not-so-amused Jareth standing in the other doorway. She feigned a snarl at him and rolled her eyes before looking back to her mother. “Never mind, go in the kitchen and put the kettle on. I just have to pop upstairs for a sec and I’ll be right back down.” Her mother smiled and turned to go into the kitchen.

Huffing out a breath, she shook her head at Jareth’s curious look as she fled past him to go grab the sword. She picked it up and ran toward the stairs.

She didn’t pause until she was standing in her studio room. Setting it on the floor, she quickly closed the door behind her, then dropped down and flipped the carpet back. Sliding her hand over the floorboard, she found the small groove and pried up on it.

“Miranda, what are you doing?”

Crawling over, she pulled a towel off the chair and wrapped his sword lovingly in it. She glanced up at him and whispered, “Hiding it. Things tend to vanish when my mom is around.” His eyebrows shot up. “She’ll leave as soon as I listen to her crying and hand her some money.”

“I find I am appalled that she would steal from her own child... You give her money? You are presently without a job.”

Nodding, she put the board back in place. “I know,” she whispered. “She went downhill after Dad left...” She flipped the rug back down and got up. She looked at the door and then to him. “Just please don’t make me look like I’m talking to myself in front of her.”

Jareth smirked. “I would not—”

“Don’t feed me that,. I can see that troubled look in your eyes,” she hissed “I am a pirate. It is my nature.”

Raising her hand she pointed one finger at him. “Just behave...please.” She sighed and turned toward the door. With her hand on the doorknob, she stopped and looked at him.

Placing a hand over his heart, he raised the other. “I shall work vigorously to curb my nature...for you.”

She nodded and went out the door.

~

Jareth propped his back against the wall beside the door in Miranda’s quaint little kitchen. Truly he was not leaning, as there was no contact, but he still preferred to pretend he was close to normal. He had never quite taken the time to look around this room. It was shining with pots and metal objects that sparkled. It was quite an appealing room. He looked back to Miranda and her mother, a woman who sobbed like no other he had ever had the fortune to encounter.

He ascertained that he might not know all regarding Miranda, yet he was certain she was slowly losing her sanity and patience listening to the ghastly tale her mother was pouring out. He might not be from this era, or any time close to it, yet he could feel the thick layers of rubbish she was adding to her tale.

Randy tried not to look at Jareth, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to jump up and scream...or laugh, she wasn’t sure. Seriously, couldn’t her mother just say, “I’m in a bind; can I borrow some money?” Not that she’d ever pay it back. Randy’s eyes moved to Jareth while her mother’s head was bent down as she continued to whimper. He looked annoyed and bored. He looked at her and then winked. She stifled a smile and put her head down so her mother wouldn’t think she was laughing at her.

Jareth smirked as she dropped her chin down. He’d had no choice but to wink at her; she looked in need of something light-hearted. An odd sensation went through his back, he straightened. He was becoming solid again! He glanced to Miranda, she looked at him, and he rubbed a hand over his arm and ducked quickly out of the room.