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Charm (Black Sheep of Faery Book 3)

Page 11

by Harley Gordon


  "In a way." She leans back against the closed door.

  I straighten from my crouch on the floor. "What does that mean?"

  She covers a yawn with the back of her hand. "We found a place they were crashing at some point. It reeked of all of them."

  I fight a yawn of my own. We're all exhausted and running on nerves. "But they aren't staying there any longer? Did you smell the mystery person Pan is working with?"

  "No to both. I mean, I smelled them and I know it's a woman, but I have no idea who it is other than definitely Fae. All the scents were over a day old. Pan's scent was more prevalent so I think he was staying there before he broke them out. My guess is before they took Cinderella, they needed to find a place they could keep her locked up and quiet. They wouldn't have been able to hide her there. I called the Constabulary and they're going to comb over the place so hopefully they turn something up."

  I wave a careless hand. "It won't matter. We can't wait. They have Cinderella and Dantès. They could already be dead, but if they're not, then we have to get them free."

  "How? We're already doing everything we can."

  "Not everything. I'm not doing everything, anyway." I haven't been. It's time for that to change.

  Red pushes off the door. "What are you...? No. You've been trying to get us to use you as bait since the beginning. No."

  "I haven't tried very hard to get you to agree. I'm going to do this with or without your help. You might as well help me so we're successful. I have a plan and it's a good one."

  A low growl sounds in her throat. "Offering yourself up as a sacrifice isn't a good plan. He will likely kill you."

  I pick at a loose thread on my sweater. "Maybe. But I don't think he'll do it right away. That cuts his revenge way too short." He'll want to draw it out, make me pay, make it hurt.

  "He doesn't exactly have control over his temper."

  I straighten my shoulders and raise my chin. "And I'm not the terrified girl he remembers. He'll underestimate me." If I repeat it enough, perhaps it'll be true.

  Red tosses her hands into the air in a rare show of dramatics. "What exactly is your plan? To wander around the city by yourself and hope he grabs you?"

  "In a way, but not quite so simplistic. He's clearly been watching us. He'll know the moment I set foot out of this place alone. Or if not the minute, soon after. I want you to have your pack stationed throughout the city on the lookout for me or him. And I want Bo to have her animals on my track. If they can follow my trail, you can mount a rescue operation. If somehow that fails, between Cinderella's powers and mine and whatever Edmond's are, we should be able to escape ourselves." If they’re both still alive.

  Red looks like she wants to shake me. "What if you're wrong? My pack mates and Bo's animals haven't been able to follow their trail once."

  "Because there was never a starting point where one of them were in sight. And I'll leave a trail, don't worry."

  Her brow furrows. "What kind of trail?"

  A wicked smile spreads across my lips. "Follow the roses."

  Chapter 31

  With my almost empty bag slung over my shoulder, I slam from the shop in a dramatic show of temper. Red agreed to distract the others while I made my escape and will fill them in. Convincing Red was annoying enough even though she’s rarely argumentative unless it’s to protect someone, I have no interest in going over it three more times.

  This way, they'll have no choice but to go along with my plan. They'll get over it once this is all over.

  I swallow my trepidation and attempt to slow my racing pulse. A line of sweat beads on my upper lip and another slides down my spine. I never did take a shower. Doubt slows my steps.

  Perhaps this is a terrible plan. So many things could go wrong.

  I suck in a sharp breath through my nose and straighten my shoulders. My plans rarely go wrong. I ignore the niggling reminder of how similar it is to what Bo wanted to do.

  But the Beast would have killed her immediately once he realized she wasn’t me.

  A glance at the sky melts away the majority of my concerns and tension bleeds from my lower back. A flock of birds circles through the air above me. I don't catch sight of any of Red's pack, but I trust they're here, watching me.

  What if he isn't watching me? What if one of the others has the boots? What if he smells the trap?

  I slip into a cafe and buy a coffee to drink on the terrace so it doesn't seem like I'm wandering aimlessly across the city. I try to focus on my book, but Shakespeare's sonnets only remind me of Dantès and bring a lump to my throat.

  It seems like eyes burrow into my skin from every corner and shadow. I don't know if it's my imagination, Red's pack members, Bo's animals, or the Beast himself.

  My first gulp of coffee burns my mouth and throat. I wince and set the cup back on the table. I prefer tea, but living in London for so long gave me an arrogance about anything other than a British cuppa. I reach past the roses in my bag for my pipe. It might be my last chance to indulge for a while. I pack it with the vanilla scented tobacco and light it, breathing in the sweet smoke and rolling it around my mouth before blowing it back out. I've considered quitting, but Bo's teasing about me wanting to be just like Sherlock makes me contrary. I have cut back a fair bit though.

  My phone dings with a message from Bo filled with mostly expletives. I delete it along with the other messages I don't want Pan or the princes to read.

  I drink in the sight of my beloved city's streets, glowing beneath the golden sun. The ghosts of dead artists and writers I used to know flit between the Frenchmen and women bustling down the sidewalk. It's been far too long since my fingers held a pen or they flew across the keys of a typewriter. I used to pour words onto the page, but I haven't in years. The longing has returned since Bo turned her bakery into a haven for Fae and artists on Sunday nights. My job as Head has kept me too busy for much fun.

  Perhaps Dantès had a point. With morons like Mary Bennet in charge of the FTA, it's not the wonderful organization it once was.

  With a hesitant sip, I try my coffee again. It's cooled off enough to drink, no longer almost boiling. I sit back with Shakespeare ignored in my lap and alternate between coffee and pipe while I soak up the sights and smells of the city. A part of me wonders if this is my last meal. If it is, I'll be damned certain to take the Beast with me. And Pan. And the other two princes.

  Since the Beast is unlikely to snatch me from the terrace of a cafe, I finish off my coffee. I gave him plenty of time to find me. Now I just need to lead him somewhere more secluded.

  This must work. I'll never hear the end of it from Bo if it doesn't. And we also have no other ideas for how to rescue Edmond and Cinderella if they're still alive.

  I can't wait to hear Mary Bennet's response when she finds out what I've done. Maybe it'll strike her speechless.

  After I pack my pipe away, I haul the straps of my bag over my shoulder, and set off again. I thread through the streets, trying to seem like I have a destination.

  I turn down an abandoned side street, missing the usual flowers bursting from window boxes creating a sort of canopy overhead. Almost two more months before they return. The Beast hasn't ruined all flowers for me thankfully. Only red roses.

  They're trash.

  Hands grasp me from the shadows, jerking me into a chest.

  "At last, I have you again, Beauty." The monster side of him is audible in the growl of his voice. And then we're in the air, frigid wind whipping us.

  My body hardens to stone and my heart tries to flutter from my chest at the sound, the scent, the feel of him.

  This was a terrible idea.

  Chapter 32

  With the drum of terror beating in my chest, I barely keep my head enough to remember to release drops of rose oil as we fly through the air. The tiny bottle is easy to conceal and I already spread the scent over myself so the Beast doesn’t notice the smell. I hope I don’t run out before we get to wherever he’s taking me.
<
br />   The seven league boots don't actually give the wearer the ability to fly, but there is a sort of floating involved. You travel seven leagues without touching the ground. It's why we mistook it for teleportation.

  The Beast doesn't say anything, he merely grips me by the back of my legs, my stomach grinding into his bony shoulders. His strength is surprising for such a slight man, but the beast side of him grants him strength.

  He smells the same. Of wet fur and pine. My stomach rolls with nausea and I choke back bile. I'm desperate enough I consider burying my face in the remainder of the roses.

  Panic and his stench cut off my air and my head spins. I thought I could do this, I thought I could beat him, but I can't. He's too strong. I couldn't win against him before, it'll be the same this time. I tricked and escaped from him all those years ago. He'll be ready for it, prepared for it this time.

  I can't do this.

  Dantès and Cinderella are doomed. And so am I.

  The longer he remains silent, the larger my dread grows. I keep dropping roses, the others coming for us, the only hope we have. I despise being a damsel, but I was a fool to think I could do this alone. I forgot. The years have faded the memories of being held captive by him before. But with him dragging me off to his lair again, they're sharp and clear and stampeding through my mind.

  His rage and teeth and claws. The dungeon he threw me in when I refused to love him. The scars that faded from my skin, but still remain beneath the surface.

  The Eiffel Tower shrinks smaller and smaller as we speed away from the city. No wonder we haven't found them. I can't see the birds any longer, but I hope they're close.

  The rose oil gone, I drop the bottle itself and with it, my last hope.(and here she could drop the bottle itself)

  The dramatics inside my mind knock me back to myself. I'm being utterly ridiculous. For years I've been claiming I'm no longer the same girl from my story and from my first years on Earth. But one minute with him and I forget everything I've accomplished? I relinquish who I am? No. I will not let him take everything I've built and I've become from me. He won't scare me this time, I won't let him.

  I will make him fear me.

  Every memory and fear and worry, I roll into a ball and shove it deep down. According to Bo, I'm a pro at stuffing down my feelings. Time to put the ability to good use.

  The Beast lurches to a stop, barely keeping us upright. Before I can take in the house, he shoves me through the door where the princes wait for me.

  Chapter 33

  I lunge for August and try to wrap my hands around his neck. He doesn't have the boots on this time, he can't get away from me.

  He squeals and stumbles back, but hands grab me from behind and shove me to the floor. The fury washing over me keeps the pain from slamming into the wall at bay. I grasp for any object to bring to life and send it shooting into faces, but the Beast hauls me to the tips of my toes by my arms, tightening them painfully behind my back until my shoulders almost pop from their sockets.

  "None of that, my love. I have some people I'm sure you want to see." I hope he means Dantès and Cinderella.

  The princes adjust their clothing and sneer at me. I spit right in August's face. He gasps and shrieks, scrubbing his face with a towel. The Beast jerks me away from them and through a door with steps leading downstairs.

  The walls close in on me and some of my anger fades, replaced by fear. My breaths shorten and my vision blurs. There isn't enough air. I know where he's taking me and the flashbacks flicker through my mind and I can't, I can't, I can't.

  The trip down the stairs takes forever and is over too soon. The Beast pushes me through another door and I'm in a dungeon. They converted the basement into a bloody dungeon. Clichéd villains.

  Thankfully, it's nothing like the one he kept me in before. It's a basement with a large kennel assembled in it, but it's still a dungeon. It still reeks of terror and mold and unwashed chamber pots. It's still freezing and dim with pathetic gray light casting a weak glow.

  My eyes take a moment to adjust as I search the faded light for Dantès and Cinderella. My breath hitches when I see two lumps in the far corner I pray are them.

  Are they dead?

  The Beast adjusts my hands until they're pressed together like they're clasped in prayer behind my back. He wraps something hard and plastic around my wrists, a zip tie. Good. I know how to get out of those. I read it in a book. And watched the video. It's something I sent all the Librarians in case of this situation. He thinks he's nullified my powers. I look forward to sending something sharp and pointy directly at his face.

  He opens the kennel door and pushes me inside. With my hands tied, I fall to my knees on the concrete floor. I wince and hiss as pain radiates through my bones. I've lost my bag somewhere, but I don't need it. I expected them to confiscate it. It would have been nice to keep my book with me.

  "I trust you'll be in a more grateful mood when I come back for you later." He slams and locks the kennel door.

  I struggle to my feet and glare poison at him. "Grateful? For what? You kidnapping me? Again? Oh yes, let me bow and kiss your feet in worship. You couldn't make me love you before and you certainly won't make me now."

  His eyes travel up and down my body, making me glad I'm in in over-sized clothes. "We'll see. You know we are destined. We were written and made for each other. It's why you've never found more than fleeting happiness here in this life. You were waiting for me."

  How does he know I’ve been alone? "What? Are you insane? I will never love you."

  "We'll see." He turns to leave and slams the basement door behind him.

  I snap my gaping mouth closed and hurry over to the lumps on the ground. "Please, please, please." I ease to my still aching knees, but I can't touch them.

  I don't know how long it'll be before the Beast or one of the princes returns to gloat, so I don't want to free myself yet. Maneuvering with grunts and curses, I position myself on my ass and use my foot to pull back the blanket off the closest lump.

  Cinderella. She's unconscious, but her chest rises and falls. Hope and despair battle for dominance as I scoot towards the second lump. Sweat coats my brow and I finally pull the other blanket away. Edmond. He looks awful. Battered and bloody and swollen. My boots slip in the blood pooling around his body. I scramble to my knees and bend over him, my cheek above his lips. His breath brushes against my skin, but it's weak.

  "Edmond. Edmond, wake up." I nudge him with my knee.

  He doesn't respond.

  I turn to Cinderella. "Cindy, wake up." My voice is sharper with her, panic lacing my words. What did those assholes do to them? "Cinderella. Come on."

  Her eyes flutter and finally open. I slump in relief. Her hands are tied too, and it takes her several minutes to sit up. I lean back helplessly and watch her.

  Her eyes try to focus on me. "They got you too?" Her voice is raspy, like she's been screaming.

  "All part of the plan."

  Her eyes clear and she sits up a little straighter. "You did this on purpose?"

  "Yes." Though the doubts crowd back into my mind.

  "You're a fool."

  "Probably. But that doesn't matter right now. What happened to Dantès?" I look back down at him. Is he paler?

  Cinderella scoffs. "Your ex happened to him. He went all beast and slashed him up in a jealous rage."

  My eyes fall closed and I try not to release the scream.

  "What happened to you?"

  She shrugs and winces. "Nothing. Nothing too bad anyway. I'm bruised, but I'll survive."

  "Why were you unconscious?" I frown.

  She puts her nose in the air. "I was asleep."

  "Really?"

  A harsh sigh spills from her lips. "Okay, fine, I fainted. They haven't fed me anything and being trapped here with a dying man doesn't do the best things to my head."

  "I'm not judging you. I almost passed out on the steps." I try to find a more comfortable position. "What about Pan
? Where is he?"

  "I don't know. I haven't seen anyone but the three princes."

  No. He has to be here. "Have they mentioned him or the woman he was working with?"

  She shakes her head. "Not a word. And I listened. It's that little shit's fault they're free."

  "Damn." He's going to bloody well escape the net again. How does the slippery bastard manage it?

  A little of her fear slips through her angry mask. "I hate them. They're pathetic and awful and we need to enact a death penalty in the FTA instead of prison."

  "Right now, I can't find an argument against that." I check on Edmond again. He's still breathing, but it's shallow. He's fading.

  This is the Beast's revenge.

  He's going to make me watch Edmond die.

  Chapter 34

  "So, what exactly is the plan?"

  I can't look at Edmond anymore. "The plan is, Bo and Red will be able to track us and they'll mount an assault outside while we cause trouble in here."

  Cinderella looks at me like I've lost all sense. "We're tied up so we can't touch anything and use our powers. And the Count isn't going to be much use whatever his power is. He's been like this since they threw him in here. Only weaker."

  I swallow a sob. "I can get us out of our binds."

  Cinderella frowns, confusion in her eyes. "But there's nothing for us to touch even if you do release us."

  "We have the kennel, the blankets, hair pins, boots, shoes, belts. That's a lot of things you can turn into weapons. And a lot of things I can animate." There's little in the basement other than us and the kennel, but I'm certain we can unearth something.

  "All right. All right. But they could come back at any time. What if they catch us?"

  "First, we're going to try to help Dantès. If he loses too much blood he won't be able to heal." If he hasn't already.

  "How?"

  "I don't know." I have no clue how to help him without the use of my hands. But I can't sit here useless and watch Edmond bleed out and die.

 

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