Kiss Me Deadly: Tales of a Paranormal Romance

“You wish to save your unicorn,” said Elise. “I wish this as well. Enyo should not die like Bisou. My cousin has spilled enough blood. We have several hours until the hunt. Let’s form a plan.”

Gita nodded. Elise sounded very determined, but her hand trembled hard against Gitta’s, like a heavy bow held for far too long.

* * *

Now Gitta knew why Elise had been so quick to draw the unicorn to her side. The girl had never been trained as a unicorn hunter, but she knew the taste of the hunter’s God-given magic. It was marked onto the very earth where she’d walked every day of her life. The lines on the walls were made with unicorn blood—their power reaching out through the ages to the two girls who stood in the chamber and plotted in whispers to prevent more blood from being spilled. Now Gitta knew who Elise was, beneath the powder and the stays and the springtime- colored silks. She was a warrior, just like her. She was a sister-at-arms, if not in vows, and Gitta would help her in any way she could, as any woman in the Order would step forward for the sake of another.

* * *

Before the dawn broke through the trees, Gitta released Enyo into the forest. She crouched low over the unicorn and whispered words of reassurance and love into her aged ears. Not this time, my dear one. Not this time.

Enyo disappeared into the darkness. Gitta turned and started hiking back to the tree where Elise and the hunters would meet for the ritual. The forest smelled wild today, as full of magic as Elise’s painted caves. She carried her knife and bow, but neither helped her when she was set upon by five armed men.

They bound her head and foot and stuffed a rag in her mouth to muffle her screams as they dragged her deep into the forest.

“He said to keep her until after the ceremony,” one said.

“Did he say what we could do then?” said another.

Gitta closed her eyes and reached out to Enyo in her mind. There was no response from the old zhi —she was either too far to hear, or she heard another call. Elise’s perhaps. Had the hunt begun? Was Gitta too late?

“Is this one as good with a sword as they say?” a man said above her.

“Dunno. But good enough for Dufosset to want her out of his way.”

She begged for the unicorn to save her. She prayed to God to protect His devoted daughter. She called upon every scrap of miracle or magic she’d ever known.

The reply came from the very heart of the woods.

* * *

Elise de Commarque, the last daughter of her line, led a procession to the tree where Gitta had told her to wait. The aristocrats behind her carried old weapons and sang snatches of even older songs about unicorn hunts. The mood was merry and light. This was the start of a party. A wedding party.

When they arrived at the tree, Elise sat down at the base, and the hunters dispersed among the brush at the edge of the clearing, lying in wait as the maiden called the unicorn like all the stories said. Many minutes passed until the woods settled around them again, and Elise felt as if it was time.

She wore her finest gown, which was getting stained by wet leaves. Her softest slippers were already a mess of mud. Her neatly powdered hair was keeping her from smelling the woods. And the stares of the men arrayed around her, bearing spears and bows and knives trained upon the spot where she sat, was breaking her concentration.

She peered up through the leaves, hoping to catch a glimpse of Gitta. The hunter had said if Elise could not call Enyo, she’d step in and do it herself. But Gitta was truly hidden among the leaves, no doubt trying to make the experience as authentic as possible for the aristocrats who’d come to partake in a traditional unicorn hunt.

Elise took as deep a breath as she could beneath her stays. She could do this. She must.

Enyo! Her mind cried. Come to me now!

But there was nothing. No hint of magic flooding through her system, no flash of wilderness, of rain and rot and stone and fire. Everything was perfume and dye, stitches and stays, poetry and prattle, lyrics and lies.

Elise’s hands slipped to the earth, and she stabbed her fingers into loamy moss.

And then, it was as if every man in the clearing inhaled at once. Elise opened her eyes, and Enyo was there by her side. Her clouded orbs peered deep into Elise’s, and she nudged her head softly beneath the crook of Elise’s arm.

“Enyo,” Elise whispered. “You’re here.” She stroked the unicorn’s mane, for once not caring about the dirt or the tangles. Enyo was warm, and real, and alive. The unicorn’s heart beat softly against Elise’s side. Breath from her nostrils warmed Elise’s arm. Elise traced each bump and twist of the creature’s long horn, then scratched at the base. Enyo sighed in pleasure.

“Are you ready?” she whispered. She drew from her pocket a wooden blade. “Play Dead.”

The unicorn let out a cry and slumped against her. An instant later, an arrow flew from the woods and slammed Elise into the tree. She gasped, but could not find breath to scream. The arrow was embedded in her shoulder. Pain shot through her arm and chest, pain such as Elise had never known. The unicorn started in her arms.

“Gitta,” she whispered weakly. Who had shot that arrow? Why wasn’t Gitta jumping down from the tree to help her?

Adolphe leaped out from behind a bush and came running. The unicorn had ceased its feigned death throes and was licking her face. Tears streamed from her eyes as she struggled to breathe. Adolphe drew near, and she hugged the unicorn to herself, surprised she even had the strength.

“Stop, Adolphe,” she said, as if she had a voice in the matter. He mustn’t kill the unicorn. Elise had promised Gitta.

But Adolphe did not stop. In fact, he drew out a long, silver knife. And then she almost laughed.

Of course. He wasn’t here to kill the unicorn. And he’d been the one to shoot the arrow. He did want her dead. This hunt had been his best chance.

Where was Gitta? Where were the de Veyracs? Was she to die alone, surrounded by men and beasts sworn to protect her?

“Now, my dear cousin,” said Adolphe, leaning in so no one could see what he said. “We shall have no more disagreements between us.”

“You’re right,” Elise replied. “We shall not.” And she set the unicorn free.

Enyo knocked Adolphe onto his back and then, with a growl, plunged her horn into his chest. Adolphe’s expression went from triumph to despair. His skin turned purple, and he never breathed again.

She heard a rustle from the other men, and lifted her good hand. “Stay.” The Vicomte rose from his hiding place and seconded her command with a gesture to the other men. She appreciated his help, but she no longer needed it.

Elise struggled against the tree and felt the arrow break loose from the bark. She stood, bleeding, the shaft still embedded in her arm, and addressed the aristocrats in the bushes. “My friends,” she said. “Adolphe Dufosset tried to murder me here where I stood, and you men—all of you men, and armed— weren’t able to stop it. Since the death of my father, I’ve counted on you for protection. Today you have failed.” She cast her eyes about the clearing, but the only face she could see was the Vicomte’s. Not even Bernard had come forward. “I think I shall have no further need of you.”

“My dear,” the Vicomte said. “You’re injured. It’s a wonder you’re not overcome. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do, my lord,” said Elise. She swayed on her feet, and Enyo came to her side, standing against her until her legs stopped shaking. “I will not be getting married to your son today. Nor any day.”

Now Bernard stood. “Elise! Think of what you are doing!”

Elise ignored him.

“It isn’t your choice,” said the Vicomte. “I have a contract.”

“I have a unicorn,” said Elise.

“You have more than that.” Gitta stepped out of the woods. At her back were a half dozen creatures out of legend. These were not small, goat-like unicorns as Enyo was, but tall, majestic horned monsters, their bearing as elegant as stags, their coats shining whiter than chalk. Their eyes were black as they looked upon the men in the