Bedtime Stories_ A Collection of Erotic Fairy Tales Part 12

Guessing he was still asleep, Nevada headed for her bedroom. Her ribs were beginning to ache now, making each breath a struggle. I definitely have to get this thing off. I'll show it to everyone later. I-Ow! I definitely have to get this thing off. I'll show it to everyone later. I-Ow!

The corset constricted abruptly, startling and scaring her. Oh, Menos! Ow! I can't-I can't breathe! The laces . . . I-OW! Oh, Menos! Ow! I can't-I can't breathe! The laces . . . I-OW! Dropping the sack of clothes, she tried to reach the laces before the boned corset could crush her ribs . . . and Dropping the sack of clothes, she tried to reach the laces before the boned corset could crush her ribs . . . and felt felt them slither as they tightened further, entirely of their own volition. Gasping for breath, she stumbled against the wall just inside her bedroom door. them slither as they tightened further, entirely of their own volition. Gasping for breath, she stumbled against the wall just inside her bedroom door.

"Dar . . . Dar-shem . . ." Chest wracked with compressed pain and vision blurring at the edges from lack of air, Nevada went for the only thing that could help her. With the last of her strength, she stumbled to her vanity table and dragged it to the ground with her in a crashing, tumbling mess.

"EASY . . . don't move just yet . . ."

Hearing Dar-shem's voice, low and soothing, Nevada relaxed into the soft bedding supporting her. Her chest ached abominably, but she could breathe freely. Prying open her eyes, she found both him and a purple-clad healer bent over her. The healer was swabbing something along her right side. "You . . . you heard me. Good."

"I'm glad I did. I thought you were an intruder when I woke up from the noise you made-Don't move," her dark-skinned co-husband said soothingly. "That thing that was throttling you broke seven of your ribs before I could get it off. I've mirror-called for the Mage Guild to send over a team to investigate it. Cotter's on his way, too. From the looks of it, there was some sort of spell woven into the cord of the lacings; I couldn't cut them with my knife, so I had to cut through the corset itself . . . so you also have a long gouge on your side. Sorry."

"It will heal scarlessly, if if you lie still," the healer added pertly, dabbing on the last of whatever salve she was using. "And no vigorous activity for at least a full day, preferably two. I've set and spell-healed your ribs, but they'll still need time and a couple of bone-healing potions to finish strengthening." you lie still," the healer added pertly, dabbing on the last of whatever salve she was using. "And no vigorous activity for at least a full day, preferably two. I've set and spell-healed your ribs, but they'll still need time and a couple of bone-healing potions to finish strengthening."

Nodding, Nevada closed her eyes again. She knew she had almost been killed by the enchanted corset, yes, but she also knew she was safe. At least for now. At some point, she would have to find out who enchanted those laces and why. Socorro didn't have any magic, at least as far as Nevada had sensed. At the ninth rank, she was strong enough to sense the presence of a fellow mage. So it had to have been the work of someone else. The question is, who? The question is, who?

Besides, she was so nice to me . . . It had to have been someone who enchanted the clothing before handing it over to bring to me. One of the rebel faction.

She felt Dar-shem kiss her on the forehead, and let her questions go. Her ribs still ached, her side tingled from whatever salve the healer had applied, and she didn't have the strength to worry over what had just happened.

After my nap, Nevada decided. Nevada decided. I'll figure it all out after my nap . . . I'll figure it all out after my nap . . .

ALL six of her husbands rose when she finally entered the parlor. Seven, if she counted her husband-to-be. The eighth man was Sierran, and bodies nine and ten crowding her family's living room were the guardian apprentices Koranen of Nightfall and Danau of the Aquamancer Guild. After a restful, spell-enhanced nap, Nevada felt better about her ordeal, but the grim expressions on the men and woman in her home reminded her of how close she had come to being crushed to death.

Nodding politely to the apprentices, Nevada took the seat Migel offered to her. "Well. What have you found out?"

"The lacings were enchanted with a Fortunai pattern-woven spell," Apprentice Koranen stated. "I had to consult with my twin on it, since it's not too common in this half of the world, but the spell was literally woven into the lacings when they were made."

"They were set to trigger when the wearer was alone," Apprentice Danau added, her tone grim. The pet.i.te redhead had warmed up a bit-socially speaking-after her visit to Nightfall and subsequent marriage to her singular husband, but she was still cool and unflappable when on the job.

Nevada hadn't interacted with her overly much, since the Aquamancer Guild handled a completely different set of magical needs for the city, but neither had she shunned the other woman for being born different. It was a good thing, too; combined, Danau and Koranen were at least as powerful as Guardian Sheren. Together, the two of them had enough power and knowledge to dissect the magics involved in Nevada's brush with death.

She turned her attention to the cause of her suffering. The disenchanted tangle of black threads lay on a silver tray on the low drinks table between them. Next to them on the tray lay a jeweled silver hair comb. The comb was set with beautiful, gleaming rubies. Their red glow compared favorably with the bowl of apples sitting next to the tray, for all that most of the gems were barely a quarter the size of Nevada's littlest fingernail.

Talladen had brought the apples home with him the moment he had gotten word of what had happened. He was sweet like that, remembering even in the midst of a life-threatening crisis that Nevada liked apples. The hair comb had puzzled her from the moment she had been given it; her hair wasn't long enough to use it, but Socorro had insisted she accept the gift of it anyway. The comb was the kind that Nevada remembered Althinac women liked putting into their long hair for ornamentation whenever they pinned it up.

She would would have tucked it into her hair if she'd had enough to hold it, but she didn't, so she hadn't even picked it up. Socorro had tucked it into her bag of things, along with her new fabric clothes. Now, as the shorter of the guardian apprentices continued, Nevada was glad she hadn't handled it. have tucked it into her hair if she'd had enough to hold it, but she didn't, so she hadn't even picked it up. Socorro had tucked it into her bag of things, along with her new fabric clothes. Now, as the shorter of the guardian apprentices continued, Nevada was glad she hadn't handled it.

"When we checked the bag of clothes for other dangers, we found that. The hair ornament was also tainted with magic. In specific, a spell-trapped poison, which like the corset was meant to be activated once you were completely alone," Danau explained, glancing briefly at her husband, Koranen, before returning her attention to Nevada. "Had your hair been long enough to tempt you into using it, either one could have killed you swiftly enough, but the combination of poison and constriction would have killed you before anyone could have saved you, even had they been in the next room waiting for it to happen."

Nevada shuddered. She felt Migel touching her shoulder. At the same time, Cotter reached over and touched her hand, both of them giving her comfort. Of all of them in the room, only Migel and Koranen had hair long enough to have pinned up, though Danau's hair was almost long enough. But Nevada did remember a time when she, too, had once possessed locks long enough to dress with ribbons, pins, and combs.

"Whoever planned this is a criminal under both Althinac and Menomonite law," Migel stated. He lifted his chin slightly. "Their opportunity to do so was in part my responsibility, for having had the idea to come here at all. I'll undergo any questioning you have by Truth Stone, and I'll command everyone who came with me to undergo it as well. Since the crime was committed in Menomonite territory, we will submit to Menomonite justice. All I ask is, if you're going to arrest me, let me make a mirror-call back to Althinac to let them know of my absence."

Strangely enough, it was the normally sober Danau who smiled. "I don't think arresting any of you would do our political ties any good. At least, not without solid proof first. Even the city council has been forced to admit that total isolation isn't good for us. But we will will question everyone, including yourself. Starting with you, in fact. question everyone, including yourself. Starting with you, in fact. Husband? Husband? " "

Nevada bit the inside of her lip. Danau still sounded a bit smug whenever she said that word, for all it had been months since their return from the distant island of Nightfall. The poor woman had suffered from an excessive affiliation with aquamancy, to the point where she literally had problems regulating her body temperature, making it impossible for her to be intimate with anyone. Her husband had suffered in the same way, only from his affinity for pyromancy, in the opposite direction from the chief aquamancer of Menomon. Together, they made the perfect couple, even if they were rather monogamous about it. Scandalously so, by Menomonite culture.

Fishing a white marble disc from the pouch at his waist, Apprentice Koranen tossed it at Migel. The Guardian of Althinac caught it with both hands. Missing his touch on her shoulder now that his hand was otherwise occupied, Nevada listened to him test the stone's enchantment.

"I am a sh.e.l.lfish." A quick check of the smooth-polished stone showed a blackened imprint where his fingers had pressed during his absurd statement. It faded within moments, and Migel nodded, gripping the stone again. "I am Migel of the family Althec, Guardian of Althinac, and I came here to convince Nevada of the family Naccara to wed me and help rule at my side, with the intent that the joining of our two families would convince our war-torn people to join back together. I did not not come here with the intent to harm her in any way, nor would I have allowed anyone else to come for that purpose, had I known about it at any point." come here with the intent to harm her in any way, nor would I have allowed anyone else to come for that purpose, had I known about it at any point."

Displaying the Truth Stone showed everyone it was white. His words were true. He handed the stone back to the pyromancer, who nodded and tucked it back into his pouch. "Right. One down, and almost a dozen more to go, including the crew of your ship. The first suspect is your cousin. I'll-"

The chimes for the front door rang, cutting him off. Kristh shrugged and rose, heading down the entry hall to the right to answer it. A murmur of voices lasted only a moment, then he closed the door and led their prime suspect into the parlor. Socorro greeted everyone with the same friendly smile she had sported from the beginning. "h.e.l.lo, everyone! Did you get to see Nevada's new clothes?"

"More of them than we wanted," Cotter muttered, glaring at her.

"Here, hold this," Apprentice Koranen told her, pressing the disc into her hand before she could see what he was handing her.

She blinked down at it, then looked up at him. "What's this for?"

"The truth," Rogen growled. Like her other husbands, he was still incensed at how close Nevada had been brought to death. "Did you deliberately bring clothing which was enchanted to throttle its wearer? In specific, to choke our wife, Nevada?"

Socorro blinked, her smile wavering with puzzlement. "Why would I do that?"

"Answer the question, yes or no," Koranen directed her. "Wait, you're wearing rings. Take them off first."

"My rings?" Socorro asked, glancing down at the gemmed metal circling three of her fingers. "Why?"

"We had an incident on Nightfall involving rings that thwarted Truth Stone scryings. Migel wasn't wearing any when we questioned him, but you are. Take them off or be held in contempt of Menomonite law," Danau ordered.

Shrugging, Socorro complied. Setting her rings on the table, she gripped the truth stone. "I was not aware of any particular item which was enchanted to throttle or otherwise harm a particular wearer." Unfolding her fingers, she showed the unblemished marble to the others in the room. "Is that your only question?"

"Were you aware of a plot by anyone else to harm Princess Nevada Naccara?" Sierran asked.

Socorro gave him a sardonic look. "I'm an Althinac. We've been embroiled in a civil war for the last twelve years, and I'm a part of the family doing its best to overthrow the Naccaran bloodline. Of course course I knew of plots to harm Nevada! I've been hearing of plots to try and find her and hopefully eradicate her for almost half of my life." I knew of plots to harm Nevada! I've been hearing of plots to try and find her and hopefully eradicate her for almost half of my life."

"I don't think we need to check the Truth Stone for the veracity of that that statement," Koranen muttered dryly. statement," Koranen muttered dryly.

"Well, that's what most of them were. Just plots," Socorro pointed out tartly, setting down the admittedly unblemished stone and picking up her rings from the table. "I'm sure the rest of you have indulged in idle speculation a time or two. Any other questions? No? Mind if I put my rings back on?"

Yes, I have a question, Nevada thought, distracted by an ache in her gut that had nothing to do with having her ribs crushed by a silly garment. Nevada thought, distracted by an ache in her gut that had nothing to do with having her ribs crushed by a silly garment. When is dinner? When is dinner?

Guessing that no one had started it while she napped, she sat forward to reach for an apple. Her ribs immediately protested, just as they had protested when she had tried slipping her bare feet into a pair of sandals before coming out of her bedroom. At least Dar-shem had done a thorough job of cleaning up the broken toiletry bottles she had knocked off of her vanity table, so that she didn't have to. And the healer had done a good job of reknitting and strengthening the bones, though her chest would still be tender for days to come. But she was hungry. She tried leaning forward again and sucked in a sharp breath, sinking back in her seat.

"What's wrong?" Migel asked her.

"Do you need the healer again?" Dar-shem offered.

"No, no; I'm fine. Or I will be. I was just hungry, and wanted an apple," Nevada muttered, sitting back.

Talladen got up to fetch her one, but Socorro was closer and faster. Plucking one from the bowl, she turned and offered it to Nevada. The suspicious stares from Nevada's husbands made her heave an exasperated sigh.

"It is just just an apple. She wanted one, so I was going to fetch her one. But if you're worried that it's somehow poisoned-see?" Bringing the fruit to her lips, the Althinac woman took a large, crisp-cracking bite out of the ripe red fruit. Chewing, she displayed the fleshy white interior. "Af you can fee," she mumbled around her mouthful, "it'f perfectly fafe to eat." an apple. She wanted one, so I was going to fetch her one. But if you're worried that it's somehow poisoned-see?" Bringing the fruit to her lips, the Althinac woman took a large, crisp-cracking bite out of the ripe red fruit. Chewing, she displayed the fleshy white interior. "Af you can fee," she mumbled around her mouthful, "it'f perfectly fafe to eat."

Handing the bitten fruit to Nevada, Socorro folded her arms defiantly across her chest. Nevada eyed the apple warily, but not because she feared it was poisoned. Not after that demonstration. She just wasn't in the habit of eating fruit which someone else had bitten into. She turned the apple around to the unblemished side and bit into it, enjoying the sweet-tart smell.

Mere moments after she swallowed that first bite, the world went numb. It didn't hurt, like the corset had. But she was aware of a sudden inability to breathe, of the lax muscles of her arm which let her head loll back and the fruit drop from her fingers. Dimly, she heard her husbands shouting her name in alarm, felt Migel's hands touching her, scooping her out of her chair. She heard the sizzle and crackle of hastily applied spells, but she couldn't do anything, couldn't react, couldn't even see as her eyelids drooped shut under their own lax weight. Even time itself seemed muddied, bogged down by whatever spell or poison had her in its grip, until every second she lay there seemed to devour whole minutes of everyone else's time.

Am I dead? she wondered. she wondered. Or at least dying? Is that . . . Is someone crying? Or at least dying? Is that . . . Is someone crying?

Lips touched her mouth, as did the salty wetness of tears. She recognized Migel's touch, though she had only known it for a single night, and she hadn't heard him sob before now. The world swayed and the noises went away, though she could still feel Migel's presence at her side.

Someone shouted something close by, startling her. She couldn't react, but the strong voice did pull at her consciousness, bringing back pain and life as it sucked the numbness out of her. Within a minute, she could draw a deep, rib-aching breath on her own, replenishing her air-starved lungs.

Cracking open her eyes, she found herself back on her own bed, with Migel holding on to her left hand and a stranger with long, light brown hair standing at her right side. A power crystal, of the usual egg-shaped sort used to collect and store magical energy, hovered in the air above his hands. But instead of the brighter hues of pure power she was used to seeing, the crystal was being filled with a sickly, greenish darkness, a darkness that the crystal sucked up out of her body as it slowly hovered its way down her legs. The faint glow of the clock crystals on the wall showed she had been drifting in her strange state of numbness for several hours.

Once the last of that darkness left her, Nevada felt disturbingly light-headed. The last time she had felt this way, she had spent too much of her magic on tasks for the Mage Guild, yet all she had done was lie here, almost dead. The stranger with the light brown hair and the oddly familiar features muttered something to end whatever spell he was using and fitted a thick-padded silk bag around the crystal, moving with deliberate care to avoid touching the hovering, malevolently dark green orb. Before she could summon the strength to ask him who he was and what was happening, he gave her and Migel a polite nod and left her bedroom.

She licked her lips. "What . . . ?"

"We thought you were dead at first. But the healers found traces of life still in your body. You were soul-sickened by a combination of poison and spell, one specifically targeted to the Naccaran bloodline," Migel told her. His voice was rough and his eyes red, his touch gentle but trembling as he caressed her cheek. He gave her a wavering smile. "The Guardian of Menomon discovered it was a poison meant to bind to your magic and suppress it, mimicking death. But you weren't dead dead, just very deeply asleep. Almost in stasis."

"Sounds . . . pleasant," Nevada murmured.

"You would have slept for a hundred years while the poison worked its way through your magic, if Menomon's Guardian hadn't remembered a description of something similar happening to another mage long ago, in some of the city archives, the story of a beautiful young woman being poisoned by an older rival and cursed to sleep for a hundred years. Guardian Sheren arranged for her apprentice's twin to come all the way out from Nightfall Isle and clean it from your system, since she isn't quite as confident of her powers as she used to be, and this other mage apparently has enough power and control to extract the poison without killing you or risking himself.

"But while this Morganen fellow did save your life, he had to drain you of all of your excess magic and a good portion of your life energy, too," Migel murmured. "I'm afraid you won't have any energy reserves for at least a week, if not longer."

"And I'll be . . . ravenously ravenously hungry," she managed, already feeling her body beginning to shake from hunger. hungry," she managed, already feeling her body beginning to shake from hunger.

"Never fear, we have just the cure for that," a voice from the doorway proclaimed. Cotter came over to the bed, sitting down at her side, a bowl of what looked like mushed peas and other things cradled in his hands. "Raw vegetable pease-pottage, otherwise known as the ultimate in baby food for starving, power-exhausted mages. You're lucky that most of these fresh, ripe vegetables you'll be eating for the next three days were ones our kind mage guest brought. Otherwise they'd have cost me two weeks' pay, given they're outside the Menomonite harvesting cycle. Open up now, there's a good mistress . . ."

Too hungry to care what it tasted like, Nevada complied. The mush on the spoon was as messy in taste as it was in appearance, but her body recognized the nutrients it craved even as her tongue rebelled at the texture and flavor. Eating each spoonful her first husband fed to her, she listened as Migel cleared his throat and continued.

"It, ah . . . it turned out my cousin has been hiding the fact that she's a mage all this time. She had built up a false personality to wear like a sh.e.l.l, which allowed her to successfully lie while using the Truth Stone-as well as some very tight, camouflaging shields to disguise her aura-some of the Althec family mages discovered her apt.i.tude as soon as it manifested, and chose to train her in secret, to hide her abilities so that they could have a hidden weapon in the civil war. Someone no one would suspect as a mage, because she'd never displayed her powers as a mage where anyone outside of a rare few in the family would see them."

Migel caught a bit of mush that had landed on the edge of her lips and gently scooped it inside. Nevada managed not only to accept it, but to nibble on his finger a little. He blushed, and Cotter cleared his throat.

"Now, now, children; she's not in any shape for such activities. And certainly not while I'm in the room, thank you. I may be married to her, but I'm not interested in ogling her charms. Time for a sip of water," he added.

Migel helped Nevada sit up a little more, allowing Cotter to bring a gla.s.s of water to her lips. The Althinac mage shook his head as Cotter resumed feeding her. "I shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't have put your life at risk . . . It was a stupid plan, and I'll not hold you to any of it."

He got up from the bed. With her mouth full of mush-laden spoon, Nevada couldn't speak. Mutely, she glared at her husband. Cotter nodded, understanding what she wanted.

"If you set one foot outside this bedroom, Guardian, I'll be forced to challenge you to an Arcane Duel," Cotter warned the other man just as he started to open the door.

Spinning on his heel, Migel eyed him askance. "You? Challenge Challenge me me? Even adjusting for the differences between Althinac and Menomonite gauging standards, you're less than a third my rank!"

"Yes, and I'm barely even half of her rank," Cotter agreed, unperturbed. "But I am am her husband, and since she's not in any shape to protest this asinine idea you have about leaving her-save your strength, dear," he warned Nevada as she swallowed, preparing to speak-"it's up to me to champion her and knock some sense into you. Especially since you were trying to make a unilateral decision about leaving her, when you came here to become one-half of a her husband, and since she's not in any shape to protest this asinine idea you have about leaving her-save your strength, dear," he warned Nevada as she swallowed, preparing to speak-"it's up to me to champion her and knock some sense into you. Especially since you were trying to make a unilateral decision about leaving her, when you came here to become one-half of a team team. Besides, it's not always always about sheer, raw, magical strength." about sheer, raw, magical strength."

Migel snorted. "In an Arcane Duel, yes it is!"

"Not if you're a sneaky son-of-a-squid like me: I cheat cheat." Popping another spoonful into his wife's mouth, Cotter winked at her. "And I'd involve my co-husbands. Even if they aren't mages, they won't let you leave without a fight. You're the husband our Nevada actually wants, and as far as we're concerned, whatever Nevada wants, Nevada gets." I'd involve my co-husbands. Even if they aren't mages, they won't let you leave without a fight. You're the husband our Nevada actually wants, and as far as we're concerned, whatever Nevada wants, Nevada gets."

"So, what, I have no say in the matter?" Migel demanded, hands going to his fabric-clad hips.

"Not if you know what's good for you. Moreover, we took a vote just now, and it's decided. Rogen and Dar-shem will be staying here, because they're needed for the work on the desalinator. The rest of us, Baubin, Kristh, Talladen, and myself, will be accompanying you back to Althinac. That way you'll know Nevada has four bodyguards who are unswervingly loyal to her . . . and by extension to you. But only so long as you keep her happy," Cotter warned Migel, his expression sober. "Stabilizing the politics of Althinac is an important task, and having a Naccaran back in power-or rather, in co-power with you-will help with that. So no more talk of leaving her behind. Or us. Not even if she does divorce us. Not until the situation in Althinac is firmly stable. Then Then we'll consider moving back." we'll consider moving back."

"Why?" The question came from Nevada, and even she was a little surprised to hear herself ask it. But she was curious and wanted to hear Cotter's answer.

"Because without you, we we wouldn't have found our own happiness in one another. Even if it took us some relationship juggling at first. Migel makes wouldn't have found our own happiness in one another. Even if it took us some relationship juggling at first. Migel makes you you happy, and you make him happy. It's a good match. Now eat your mush." Cotter looked at the other man in the room. "One more question, Guardian. Do you love her?" happy, and you make him happy. It's a good match. Now eat your mush." Cotter looked at the other man in the room. "One more question, Guardian. Do you love her?"

"Of course I do! Why else would I want to avoid endangering her, even at the expense of Althinac's future tranquillity?" Migel asked.

"And do you love him?" Cotter prodded, tucking another spoonful between his wife's lips.

Not wanting to choke on a puree of pungent, raw vegetables, Nevada merely nodded.

"Good. All else is just a matter of logistics. Here, you you feed her," Cotter ordered, holding out the bowl. "I'm putting you in charge of overseeing her recovery. Rogen and I need to go start getting our co-husbands organized for the move to Althinac." feed her," Cotter ordered, holding out the bowl. "I'm putting you in charge of overseeing her recovery. Rogen and I need to go start getting our co-husbands organized for the move to Althinac."

With a polite nod to both of them and an air of smug satisfaction at having settled everything for them, Cotter left the bedroom.

Bowl in hand, Migel sat down on the edge of the bed. He stared at the smeared contents and sighed. "Do I have have to be husband number seven even after we've returned to Althinac?" to be husband number seven even after we've returned to Althinac?"

She managed a small chuckle. As unappetizing as the uncooked mush was, it had given her a smidgen of her strength back. "No. You and I will marry, and they and I will divorce . . . and they'll still come along. As friends friends."

"They do make good friends," he allowed. Scooping up a bit of vegetable paste, he offered it to her lips. She made a face. Migel wrinkled his nose as well, but didn't remove the spoon. "I know this stuff is awful, but you still have to eat it anyway. That Nightfallite mage was very strict about your diet and recovery schedule."

"Migel . . . what will happen to her?" Nevada asked after she swallowed the next mouthful.

"Socorro?" He shook his head. "Sheren and I worked it out. She'll be tried here in Menomon for attempted murder and tried again in Althinac for murder and for breaking the truce, and then she'll be jointly punished. Even if her surface personality didn't know there were poisons and spells in the things she gave to you, her true personality planned and executed everything with the intent to kill. We'll find out who her accomplices were, who trained her, what she has done in the past, and all of them will will be dealt with," he promised. "Even if they're my own kin. I'm not proud of what my family has done, particularly since I'm the one left cleaning up be dealt with," he promised. "Even if they're my own kin. I'm not proud of what my family has done, particularly since I'm the one left cleaning up their their messes." messes."

"You have new kin," Nevada reminded him, pausing to breathe between sentences. She felt as limp and mushy as the vegetables being spooned into her mouth, but she would regain her strength. "You can be proud of them instead."

"Ah, yes, six co-husbands," Migel muttered.

"And a wife-give me a kiss," she demanded as he lifted the spoon to serve her another mouthful. "I need something sweet to clear the taste from my tongue." a wife-give me a kiss," she demanded as he lifted the spoon to serve her another mouthful. "I need something sweet to clear the taste from my tongue."

"You mean you just want to torture me by sharing it," he murmured. He leaned down anyway, brushing his lips against hers. "Don't ever leave me again, Nevada. You broke my heart when I thought you were dead."

"Not of my own free will, Migel," she promised, and kissed him back as thoroughly as her weakened body would allow. "Never of my own free will."

Sleeping Beauty.

Author's Note: My editor and I weren't sure if this series would be called My editor and I weren't sure if this series would be called Sleeping Beauties Sleeping Beauties or or Bedtime Stories. Bedtime Stories. Since I needed an eighth story to put on the list-yes, I know it's placed as number five in the book; just go with it-I decided to toss this one in to be on the safe side. Once again, I'm going to flip this over to the science-fiction side of things, because it's fun to do this tale in sci-fi. And, being a rabid equalist at heart, I've decided to flip the story a second time, too. Enjoy! Since I needed an eighth story to put on the list-yes, I know it's placed as number five in the book; just go with it-I decided to toss this one in to be on the safe side. Once again, I'm going to flip this over to the science-fiction side of things, because it's fun to do this tale in sci-fi. And, being a rabid equalist at heart, I've decided to flip the story a second time, too. Enjoy!

THE computer controlling the derelict laboratory and its defenses was not actually mad. Leo Castanides patiently reminded herself of this fact yet again as the projections from her headset showed a surrealist's fusion of security codes and bramble vines. It's not insane. It's merely under the mental control of one of the greatest electrokinetics to ever come out of a Gengin lab . . . or rather, to never leave that lab. It's not insane. It's merely under the mental control of one of the greatest electrokinetics to ever come out of a Gengin lab . . . or rather, to never leave that lab.

Lifting her gloved hands, she tried prying two of the bramble vines apart. Once again, the vines writhed and sprouted wicked thorns, trying to scratch and pierce her electronic intrusion, cutting into her code. She reached again, but the protection protocols thickened under the instincts of the dreamer she had been hired to awaken. Beyond the three-dimensional projection overlaying her view of reality, she could see the defensive turrets of the lab's security lasers swiveling her way, and backed off physically as well as electronically.