Beasts in Winter [Tangere Tales 1] (Siren Publishing Menage Everlasting)

by Heather Rainier

  The nurse, a lovely dark-skinned woman, came around the bed and pulled a chair from the corner. “Here, sit. You look ready to keel over.”

  Angel nodded her gratitude and sat down. She did need a minute.

  The nurse perched on the end of Harrison’s bed after she made sure he was tucked in and comfortable. “Your uncle has told me quite a bit about you in the last few weeks. All I can say, honey, is I’m glad you’re home.”

  “Well…I’m…” Was the mansion still truly her home? Angel smiled when Fleur stepped carefully over Harrison’s legs and rubbed his knee with her head and then purred for the nurse as she scratched her chin and chuckled.

  The nurse took Angel’s hand. “Sorry, I should’ve started with introductions. I’m your uncle’s nurse, Patricia.”

  “And you’re…” The question she was afraid to ask hovered in the air before she spoke it in a thin whisper, “Hospice?”

  The nurse nodded slowly and offered an open smile. “Yes, ma’am. Your uncle was seriously injured while searching for you. They performed surgery and his chances of recovering from the internal injuries were fair, but he developed a serious staph infection while he was in the hospital. I was called in when his condition worsened. I’m here to see that he’s comfortable. Having someone to write out the details of what happened in his own words gave him comfort. That’s how we’ve kept busy while the search for you has been ongoing. He believed you would eventually be found but wanted everything in writing in case you returned…after his passing. Your family lawyers have seen his letter and can confirm everything I’m about to tell you. First…” She got up and locked the bedroom door. “We don’t want any interruptions. Your stepmother is currently in residence. She’s been sniffing around your uncle like an easy meal ticket. Nothing but a circling buzzard.”

  Angel chuckled at the description and waited. Her uncle squeezed her hand and in a frail voice said, “I can’t seem to catch my breath the last few days so she’s going to tell you what happened, okay? You can trust her, too.”

  “Okay,” she whispered. “Are Caresse and Elaina all right? They must be so worried about me.”

  Her uncle shook his head. “They’re still missing. The search is ongoing, but it’s been weeks. I doubt anyone hopes for more than to recover their bodies. But here you are, safe and sound, so who knows? They could turn up any day.”

  They’ve been gone all this time, too.

  Have faith in the enchantress, Fleur said through their link, but her attention was clearly on Angel’s uncle. He patted her as she minced her way within reach of his side, curled up next to him, gazing at him with her hypnotic blue eyes. He seemed to breathe easier as he stroked her head.

  Harrison nodded reassuringly at Patricia, and she removed a folded sheet of paper from her pocket and began to read. “These are things Angel needs to know when she returns. Her thankfully former fiancée, Malcolm Ténèbres, tried to kill me. It happened while we were out in Rainier National Park searching for Angel and her friends. That gold-digging hustler insisted he join the search, even though he was no longer engaged to Angel. He snuck up on me…and pushed me from a cliff. I can’t offer proof, but I believe his hope was to make sure Angel stayed lost, if by chance he was the one to find her, and to eliminate me if the opportunity presented itself.”

  Angel gasped, and Fleur inched closer to Harrison.

  Patricia patted Harrison’s ankle in an affectionate gesture as she went on. “Although I suffered multiple internal injuries and died twice on the operating table before they finally stopped all the internal bleeding, I survived the fall. After I woke in the hospital, I realized that, without any material evidence, an accusation would likely result in an investigation that would yield little in the way of justice and might even get me killed. I decided to bide my time and told everyone I had no memory of how I’d fallen—but I knew. Without any proof or witnesses, I kept quiet. I wanted to see what Malcom’s game was.”

  Angel said, “What if I hadn’t come back?”

  Patricia said, “All the information would’ve been turned over to the authorities if he’d died of his injuries. It didn’t take long for your ex-fiancé to reveal his strategy. I’ve seen it myself while staying in this…house. Honey, he’s been getting busy with your stepmother. Because Harrison is not expected to recover and has given Malcolm no indicator that he remembers being pushed, Malcolm has steered clear of this room, but your uncle has eyes and ears all over this house, including mine.” Patricia’s voice grew in strength, and it was obvious she was personally affronted.

  “Anyway,” Patricia said, reading once again from the paper. “I’ve put all of your plans for dividing your inheritance between charities into place, just as you specified the last time we talked about it.” Placing her fingertip on the page, Patricia looked up at Angel and said, “He had lawyers in and out of here, wearing him out, for the last couple of weeks, but he says it’s all done and now he can rest. He just wanted you to know what that black-hearted Malcolm Ténèbres was up to.”

  Angel looked down at her uncle, lying so pale and fragile, broken, on the hospital bed. “What do you think he’ll do?”

  With a shallow grin, Harrison opened his eyes and gazed at her. “Well, depending on how long I linger, and how impatient he and Dior become, he may decide to take matters into his hands once again.”

  Patricia scoffed and gave her head an agitated bob. “Not while I’m around, he’s not.”

  Harrison chuckled and then grimaced as he coughed a couple of times, which obviously caused him pain. He wheezed a bit and mumbled something like, “Sassy woman.” Then he turned back to Angel and patted the bed beside his thigh and said, “If Malcolm tries to send me to my maker before I’m good and ready, then he’ll have a little surprise waiting for him.” Angel prodded at the bedding and felt the solid form of a firearm.

  “So it’s like that?” she asked as she patted his hand. If he was strong enough to lift it, he definitely knew how to handle the weapon.

  “He whispered to me right before he pushed me from that damned cliff. He told me he’d get you back somehow if they found you and that you wouldn’t last long if he did. He’s been coming around here, seeing Dior and plotting with her, too, for when they get their hands on your money.”

  “Do they know what we did? That it’s all going to charity?”

  “They’re clueless. Blinded by greed, I guess. All of it will be dispersed just as we discussed, except the fund for you and the one that you insisted on for me. I’m bequeathing that to Patricia.” As he spoke each word his voice grew thin and reedy.

  The look on Patricia’s face said they’d had this conversation many times before. “And I told you I don’t want it, Harrison. I don’t want money that you should’ve been enjoying in your retirement.”

  Harrison smiled widely at her as if he enjoyed the back-and-forth. “And if I was enjoying my retirement, I’d hope to have a pretty lady like you to spend it with. It’s a done deal. Now hush, woman, you’re wearing out a dying man.” He took a breath and let it out, smiling up at her to take any sting out of his mild admonishment.

  Patricia firmed her lips, her cheeks blooming with color at his revelation that there was affection and maybe even love between them. “I just don’t want the headaches that are gonna come with all this inheritance mess.”

  “I know,” Harrison said, reaching for her hand. “Once it’s all said and done, you can donate it to charity if you want to.” He squeezed her hand, and she stilled her fidgeting. Her lip trembled as she stroked his knuckles. “Now, where were we?” he asked, pointing at the piece of paper.

  Patricia sniffled as she scanned the page. “All right. Instructions have already been set in place for my funeral and final expenses, my will and other documentation are up to date, and our attorney will serve as my executor.” Patricia looked up from the page and said, “He set it up that way in case you didn’t make it back in time, but also to protect everything that the two of you had
set in motion. He didn’t want there to be any way for Dior to get her hands on the money.”

  Angel sighed, thinking of Bestiale and Charmeur. Life on the other side was so much less complicated than dealing with all these money-grabbing crazy people. “It’s a good thing we set everything up after Dad passed away.” She had a feeling she wouldn’t have time to put all those balls in motion once her uncle passed. Her heart lurched, thinking all of this hinged on Harrison’s passing.

  Looking down at her hands, she spoke into the telepathic link. Fleur, do you know what happens? Will he truly pass on?

  It won’t be long now, Fleur replied softly. The enchantress has already seen it. If it’s any consolation, he’s truly happy right now, and his passing will be a quick one when it comes. And you’re right. There really isn’t time to linger here once he’s gone…if you want to return to my world, that is.

  Of course I do.

  Fleur’s purring increased in volume. Goodie! I’m relieved. Is there anything you want to take back with you? Keepsakes? Memories?

  Angel remembered not to nod. Yes. It won’t take but a minute.

  “I am curious about one thing, if you don’t mind me being nosey,” Patricia said to Angel. “Where did you come from? I just looked up and you were there…with a big white cat.” Fleur lifted her head with a wide kitty grin as Patricia scratched under her chin.

  “It’s a long…kind of weird story.”

  Angel tried to hold it together as he coughed again, and the monitors he was hooked up to beeped in an unsteady rhythm before slowing down again. “I had a dream the other night that Caresse and Elaina would be fine and you’d come back in time.”

  Patricia helped Harrison take a drink from a cup with a straw. “He’s been worried sick about all of you, having that dream a lot and calling out for you. It’s good you’re here.”

  The drink evidently helped because Harrison was able to draw a breath and said, “You know we’ll see each other again someday. All that stands between you and your heart’s desire is that bastard Ténèbres. I’ve been assured he’ll get what’s coming to him.”

  “I regret ever letting him into my life. I should’ve seen him for what he was from the beginning. Then you would never have been hurt. Uncle, I’ve been on the most amazing…adventure, I guess you would say.”

  “I know,” he murmured. “If it’s anything close to what I dreamed, it’s fantastical. A castle. Magic creatures. Snow…roses…and a beautiful enchantress.”

  Angel froze, wondering what to say, and felt like a liar when, as a distraction from his line of thought, she asked, “Is he on medication for his pain?”

  Patricia held his hand between hers. “He’s been refusing the heavier meds, preferring the pain over the muzzy head. He wanted to keep his wits about him with that man constantly in the house. I think he was trying to protect me.”

  “I was. And he’d come after you and try to con you if he knew I’d left anything to you. No, I wanted Angel to have the satisfaction of dealing with that bastard.”

  Angel blinked in surprise. “Me? Deal with him? How did you imagine that working out?”

  “The enchantress promised me justice would be served.”

  Angel didn’t fancy leaving justice in the hands of the enchantress, but she’d made everything else possible, both the good, like meeting and falling in love with Bestiale, Charmeur, and of course Fleur, and the bad, like the curse they lived under, which she thought was a little harsh. But she’d also allowed her to come back to Harrison, so that was another tick in the “good” column.

  Patricia patted Harrison’s hand while she smiled down at him, and Angel decided to not even try to explain.

  Harrison grimaced in pain and began coughing again. A sheen of perspiration covered his forehead, which Patricia patted with a soft cloth and whispered comfortingly to him. He finally stilled and relaxed under her care. Patricia watched the monitors and then looked up at Angel.

  It’ll be soon, Fleur whispered silently. We need to hurry.

  “Patricia, there’s something I need to get from my suite down the hall.”

  “You want me to come with you? I don’t know if Malcolm is in the house right now. You might be safer if you have a witness with you.”

  Angel shook her head. “No. I want you to stay right where you are, with my uncle. This won’t take very long.”

  Fleur jumped down from the bed and into Angel’s arms. You’ve got me with you, so you’re safe…I think, Fleur said in her head. The enchantress told me we’d be safe as long as we stuck together.

  Good enough, Angel replied as she opened the door and peeked out into the hallway where all was quiet. She looked back at Patricia and Harrison and whispered, “I’ll be right back.”

  As always, the house had a sterile, lifeless feel that was even more noticeable as she stepped out into the wide corridor where some of the bedroom suites were located. Dior’s suite was located on the other side of the mansion. About the only good thing that had ever come of her father buying the massive dwelling was that it was easier to avoid her. Evading detection right now would make her exit a lot easier.

  Fleur, let me know if you hear anyone coming, Angel said as she set Fleur down once they were within her darkened suite.

  Sure. So this is your room? she asked as she ran over to the bed and leaped up to settle onto the fluffy throw.

  Up until recently, no, but yeah, this is—was my space in this house. The place she called home had been a one thousand square foot cottage she’d shared with her dad before his investment had blown the roof off of their bank account. It was supposed to be a boon, but it had wound up being more of a burden.

  Angel went through the bathroom and into the large closet and found a backpack. She pulled down the hoodie her father had purchased for her at a Seahawks game when she was a young teenager, before everything had changed but after her mother had left them. She used it to wrap the framed picture she’d taken with her dad at that game, which always sat on her bedside, and stuck it in the backpack, along with a photo album that included pictures of her dad and uncle as well as Caresse and Elaina.

  Looking around the room, she didn’t see anything else that wouldn’t break her heart if she left it behind but then returned to the closet. She opened her jewelry box and retrieved the jewelry her father had given her over the years. As she was tucking the items into a small pocket in the backpack a white furry flash streaked into the closet, surprising her.

  Someone’s coming! Fleur said, and with a swish of her tail, they were plunged into darkness.

  “Nice trick, kitty,” Angel whispered as she crouched down, and Fleur drew close to her.

  Silently, ange, Fleur said through the mental link and then bopped her head against Angel’s bare knee.

  Feeling around blindly, Angel found the door and eased it back open so she could hear. It’s probably just the maid, coming in to dust or check on things.

  Eww, what is that awful smell? Fleur said silently as she peeked around Angel’s shoulder. It smells like burnt piss.

  Angel cringed and held back a snort as she retreated farther into the closet and carefully closed the door. That’s Malcolm’s cologne. It’s what he always wore. I can’t believe I tolerated that stench.

  He may call it cologne, but if evil had a smell, that would be it. What are you going to do? Hide here undetected, I hope. That’s what you’re going to say, right? Right?

  Before she could reply, they were distracted by noise in the bedroom.

  “Ooooh, baaaby! Ooooh yeeeeah!” Malcolm groaned and made a fake growling sound from the bedroom, and Angel had to work to suppress the urge to vomit. How could she possibly ever have found him attractive? I must’ve been out of my mind!

  Fleur growled low and said, What is he doing? He sounds as though he’s dying or yacking up a fur ball.

  Angel wasn’t about to explain her ex-fiancé’s sex voice to an impressionable teenaged feline. Sweetie, you need to cover your ears so
you can’t hear him, and pretty soon, cover your eyes, because he’s got some explaining to do, and I’m not listening to that while I hide in this damned closet.

  But Bestiale and Charmeur would not want you to expose yourself to Malcolm.

  It’s more likely to be the other way around, judging by all that caterwauling.

  But Bestiale and Charmeur—

  Wouldn’t worry because I’ll be armed. Malcolm won’t be able to do a damned thing but listen. Besides, he doesn’t have the element of surprise. I do. I need a little bit of light.

  Just enough illumination appeared for her to unlock the safe, and she eased the handle open. Within, she grasped her .38 revolver and loaded it from the box of shells farther back in the safe, taking extra care not to drop them when her hands shook a bit.

  A loud female moan joined the noisy sex taking place out in the bedroom, and a shrill voice like nails on a chalkboard said, “Oh, Mal-Mal, give it to me, you big beast!”

  Fleur gagged.

  Angel said, And that would be my stepmother, Dior. Cover your ears and close your eyes, Fleur.

  Gladly.

  “That’s right, baaaaby!” Malcolm said in a put-on growling voice. “I’m gonna come!”

  “Not before me, you bastard!” Dior shouted. “Make me come, Mal-Mal! Make me come!” she screeched in syncopated syllables as Malcolm evidently gave it his best shot. “Don’t you fucking stop, I’m gonna come!”

  “You better fucking hurry, slut! My balls are about to explode!”

  “Little bit more! Little bit more! Harder! Harder!” Dior whined.

  No longer concerned with secrecy, Angel flipped on the light switch and then marched through the dim bathroom with the loaded revolver in one hand, the backpack on her shoulder, and Fleur perched in her other arm.

  “What is going on in here?” Angel demanded as she flipped another light switch and revealed her former fiancé nailing her stepmother, Dior, on her bed.

  Dior screeched as she writhed against him and squinted. “Who’s there! Don’t stop, Mal-Mal, I was about to come!”