Angelika Frankenstein Makes Her Match

He had a hint of a smile underneath the long-suffering expression. “She named me Adam, after the first man created. And also after her baby, who died. Granny Mary is quite all right. Don’t,” he added in a warning when Christopher stepped closer, itching to wrench Angelika away. “No closer.”

“Let them talk,” Will told Christopher in his calm tone. “No harm will come to her, clearly.” He indicated the pile of men. “Step back a little with me.”

“I cannot.” Christopher was unraveling before their eyes. He raked at his perfect hair, he rolled up his cuffs; he was creased and crumpled within an inch of his life. He turned on Will viciously. “You coward. You’d walk away from this? Look at her, and the size of him. Angelika. Tell me to fight, Angelika, I beg you!”

She shook her head. “There’s no need.”

His sense of purpose denied, he deflated.

Will told Christopher, “This is out of our control now. It is up to them to decide how this ends. She can handle this.” He took Christopher’s arm and dragged his unwilling frame back a few yards into the line of shadow.

“They both love you,” Adam whispered close to her ear. “But one loves you so much more.”

Angelika turned in his hold and put her hands on his forearms. “Do you need anything? Food, clothes? I can have things made for you. Anything you want.”

“Granny Mary told me to ask you for a pair of glasses. For me. Not her. Her eyesight is still perfect, thank you very much.”

Angelika laughed. “I miss her so much. When can she come back and visit?”

“Whenever she wants to,” Adam said, puzzled. “But she said not until you’re scared to death and have learned your lesson.”

“Consider this to be that moment.” Angelika took his hand in hers. She turned it over.

Pure gold is unmistakable and irresistible to fairy queens. Even on a clouded night, with hardly a moon, gold has a glow that has fueled empires and inspired unremarkable men to do extraordinary things. The ring on Adam’s beautiful, deathly hand (Will’s hand? Arlo’s?) was just that pure.

“I’m not stealing it,” she told him as she rubbed her thumbs across it, feeling the lines.

“I know now that you won’t,” Adam said, and he sounded so tender. Will continued to watch, but Christopher could no longer bear it and went off to pace the rows of apples, pulling at his hair, ranting to himself about how unbelievable and untenable this situation was.

“I can’t see it.” Frustration began to build in her. It was just too dark, and her lantern was currently smoldering in the distance near a rabbit carcass. “Adam, I can’t see.”

“There’s a candle on my windowsill,” Will offered. He turned and walked away, giving them the dignity of his trust. They followed, and he heard her begin to limp on her bare foot. Will stopped and bent low for her to climb onto his back.

“Come on, Adam,” Angelika said, wrapping her arms around her love’s shoulders. “Let’s take a look at this ring.”

The cottage came into view, a white cloud in the dark. The next thing they saw was Clara, wrapped in a coat. “Christopher, thank heavens,” she cried out, and ran the short distance to him, her breaths jarring in her chest. “I heard the most dreadful noises.”

Her desperate eyes were locked on his face, not seeing anyone else, and it reminded Angelika of herself, running to Will. Adam had performed his trick of melting into the shadows and shapes of the night.

“It’s all right.” Christopher was gratified to hear one woman cry his name. He put out his arms and she burrowed gratefully into him. “Don’t cry. Will’s got Angelika. Everything’s all right. Let’s go inside. Now, next time, you need to stay inside with your door locked.”

They really did look so nice together.

Will sat Angelika on the windowsill beside the candle and leaned beside her legs. He seemed depleted, and his breathing was heavy. “Adam?” he asked the night.

“Yes, brother?” Adam made them both jump by how close he was.

“Please, let me see your ring.”

A hand began to slide into the candle’s circle of light. There was the first spark. Gold this pure was magical. It dazzled their eyes. Adam stepped closer, and now it was done. The reflections off the gold slowed, then stilled, and everything became clear.

Well, sort of.

Angelika was initially stumped by how blank the crest was. It was just four unevenly sized squares, with nothing punctuating the smooth gold. No gemstones, no Latin engraving. It was plain and wasn’t what she would have chosen for Will at all.

But then, she followed Will’s tracing fingertip.

Dividing the ring were the two deep lines of a cross.





Chapter Thirty


Angelika preferred Will’s cottage to Blackthorne Manor.

It had everything she could want: a comb to fix her hair, a little soap and water for her hands and legs, a clean shirt from Will’s doll-sized closet, and a tiny nip of his homemade blackthorn gin. It ran down into her stomach like medicine and cured her of the pain in her wrenched shoulders. The bed in here was a mere fraction of the mattress acreage she normally enjoyed, but it meant that they had to cuddle close together, knee bones clinking. One shared pillow would always be enough for her.

But it wasn’t the aftermath of her fright in the orchard that they were dealing with right now.

“My love, that ordeal was too much for you.” Angelika ran her hand through Will’s hair. “You’re scaring me a little.” He felt as heavy as a corpse in his bed—and she would know.

“I did tell you,” he replied on a long sigh. “I only have so much energy in my body.” He moved his fingers in slow, lazy circles on her arm. “I hope Adam considers taking the cottage. I can have it fixed up in no time.”

Angelika pursed her lips. “He wouldn’t even venture in past the threshold. And let’s face facts: it’s far too small for him. I think he secretly liked it, all the same. He had a little smile as he disappeared into the dark.” Angelika had already made a mental list of things she could do to make Adam’s home comfortable, and the little luxuries she could procure for Clara and Edwin. “We could make it so nice for him. And Clara. And Sarah, and Jacob. My own little village, right up here. Conqueror Lane.”

“Now that you have glimpsed the good you can do in this world, I believe you will be unstoppable.”

A grumble of thunder was heard.

She put her forehead against his. “Were you awake when you heard me scream?”

Will nodded. “I was already at the window. I had the strangest feeling. We are connected, remember?” He considered this statement. “Maybe Adam feels that same connection to you, too.”

Hearing his voice in the dark, saying things like We are connected, gave her another image. She became even more aware of her bare legs and no underwear. “There’s something wrong with this picture.”

“What?”

“I generally sleep naked.”

“What just happened was a terrifying ordeal for you. The last thing you would want is that.” His arms found enough strength to cuddle her closer.

“Mary was the one who truly saved me,” she said into his chest. “She has trained me for this my whole life.”

Tension ran through Will. “What do you mean?”

“She said I would one day be in a moment with a man I didn’t know, where I would have to act instantly. She said I should trust my instincts, no matter if it turned out to be a misunderstanding. His feelings would not count. She always made me repeat after her: no hesitation, no politeness, run.”

“And you did.” He kissed her temple, and exhaled a quiet “Thank God.”

“I never asked Mary why she had that advice for me. What has she lived through?” Frightening images began to plague her mind. Angelika put her hand up the back of Will’s shirt, and his smooth skin grounded her in the present moment.

She was safe, with the person who loved her the most.

He said, “When I see Mary again, I am going to thank her most sincerely. She helped raise a woman who trusts herself. I am so proud of you.”

“Mary’s advice also applies when I find myself with the right man. The one I choose, and would have into my body, if he wanted me that way.” She tipped her face up and saw his eyes watching her. “No hesitation, no politeness. Trust my instincts. Run to him.”

“It was my name you screamed, not Christopher’s, and I’m sure you noticed how deeply that cut him. You still choose me tonight, despite the doubts that hang in the balance? Are you positive?”

“Yes.” She rubbed her hand on his side. “And your feelings count very much, and I know you have found out something about yourself today that will change everything. I understand this may be our only night together like this.”

What would daylight bring? Might he wake, and remember his past, and leave forever?

He lay thinking in the darkness, his fingertips swirling on her arm in endless loops. “But I am not that person. Not yet, anyway.” The touch was giving her goose bumps. “You know that Father Porter will come for me. This is only the beginning, and it may be something you cannot talk or pay us out of.”

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