How Beauty Loved the Beast

by Jax Garren

  “Keep it simple—”

  “I know how to lie, okay?” She sounded angry, but he knew it wasn’t with him.

  “Okay. Tell Catrina to get here fast. I won’t leave you ’til she’s here.”

  Jolie had her phone out and was punching numbers. “You’ll leave when you need to leave, not based on Catrina’s appearance. Watching you get hauled off will not help my day.”

  That was his girl. Strong as a warrior goddess. He squeezed her shoulder as she started the call. Then he touched his image of Mjolnir, the Thor’s hammer he wore on a chain around his neck, as he gathered courage for what he had to do next.

  Hauk approached Cassie’s body carefully. He’d seen the girl once or twice, but they hadn’t been introduced. Still, the scene unnerved him. He’d seen a lot of violence in his life, done some of it, but fighting was different than slashing a girl up and leaving her to bleed out in an abandoned corridor. He’d seen terrible things, but nothing like this.

  He didn’t want to disturb the scene in a way that would hinder the police’s investigation or leave any evidence he’d been here. They’d run his profile and add another body to his felony record, this time one he didn’t have anything to do with. But he had to see what he could learn. There might be something he caught that the police, with their ignorance of Atropos, Ananke and the Underlight, had no shot at noticing. The woman deserved to have her killer brought to justice. He pulled on the leather gloves he kept in his coat pocket.

  Numerous cuts across her torso and the one at her throat that had killed her weren’t done with finesse or grace, as if her attacker hadn’t known how to wield a knife. Hauk checked her fingernails and found traces of skin and blood.

  Or maybe her attacker hadn’t meant to kill her. He’d used the knife to threaten her, and when she’d fought him he’d pressed too hard, cut too deep. But threaten her to do what? On a hunch, Hauk checked the side of her leg. A snapped-off needle was still embedded in her hamstring.

  Shit.

  He hated what he was about to do, but Cassie wasn’t the first citizen of the Underlight to be injected with something. His best friend, Brayden, had been attacked two weeks ago. Brayden was doing fine, thank the gods, but they still hadn’t figured out what had been administered to him. Hauk carefully pulled the needle out, hoping some of whatever she’d been injected with lingered on the end. He’d give it to Tally and LaRoche to compare to Brayden’s sample.

  “Hauk? Oh, God. Hauk!” Jolie called.

  With no better way to store the needle, he slipped it in an unused jacket pocket and hoped for the best as he hustled back to Jolie. She was pale, but her eyes were clear.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Those guys who attacked us before the show. Ric Suarez. He smelled like metal. Blood smells like metal, right? And he was wet.” She held up her jacket to show a smear of brown. “I thought I’d gotten makeup on my shirt. But it’s blood, isn’t it. He’d just done this. He killed Cassie, and we let him walk away.”

  “Oh, fuck me,” Hauk murmured. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s probably what happened. He didn’t mean to kill her. He injected her with something, probably the same shit they stuck Brayden with.”

  Jolie frowned. “The stuff that doesn’t do anything?”

  “We don’t know that. I talked to Brayden before I came here, and he said his blood still tests positive for the same chemical. It isn’t leaving his system like it should. Maybe its effect is triggered by something. Or maybe they’re still testing it out, and Brayden’s doesn’t work but Cassie’s would have. I don’t know.”

  “What am I going to tell the cops? We saw the murderer. But if I tell them that, they’ll want to talk to everybody who was outside. You’ll be involved.”

  Hauk’s jaw clenched. He hated to ask her to do this, but... “Don’t tell them. We’ll take care of this. Can you be okay with that?”

  She nodded.

  “Thanks. Gimme your jacket. Do you have any blood anywhere else?”

  Jolie unzipped her running jacket, leaving her in a thin tank top. She shivered.

  Dammit. “I’d give you my jacket, but—”

  “You can’t. I know. Chilly is the least of my problems. Do I have any stains on the back of me?” She pivoted, and Hauk inspected her for blood.

  “You’re clean.”

  Catrina’s voice came calling down the hallway, “Hauk? Jolie?”

  “Here!” Jolie answered. Hauk needed to leave. He didn’t want to.

  Jolie’s boss came timidly around the corner, her shoulders tight with tension. “Cassie?”

  Jolie pointed. “There. You don’t want to see.”

  “Goodness. No. I don’t.” Catrina’s oversized eyelashes batted furiously as she fought tears. After a moment she sniffed and leveled a businesslike expression at Hauk. “The police are on their way. You need to move.”

  Hauk sighed. “You two stay here. The murderer is long gone, so you’ll be safe. But I’ll have my phone just in case. I’ll stay nearby.” It was times like this he was glad Jolie had disobeyed the Underlight’s no-tech policy and given him a cell phone before she left the hospital. Like Jolie or anyone else entering the underground with phones, he’d have to power it down whenever he went home. The headquarters’ location was a secret that GPS would pinpoint in an electronic second, so he’d stay topside and be ready, just in case.

  He felt so fucking useless, leaving like this. But when he turned to go, Jolie stopped him with a hand on his arm. Falling against him, she burrowed her face against his chest and clutched his jacket with stiff fingers. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, giving her what strength he could.

  “Be careful, babe,” he said as he ran his fingers through her hair. “They’re coming for us. I’ll keep you safe as best I can, but be so careful.”

  She nodded, rubbing her nose against his chest and squeezing him. Once her rigid muscles unclenched, she leaned back on her heels. “Can I still come over later?”

  He huffed a highly inappropriate laugh before he caught himself. “Yes. Please do.” Every night. It was the only way he wouldn’t worry about her when he should be sleeping.

  “You be careful, too. As you said, they’re out to get us. And they’re gunning for you, dead or alive. You’ve escaped them twice now, and they hate you for it.”

  “I escaped them once.” He tapped her nose. “The second time, somebody rescued me.”

  That brought on a tiny smile, the first glimmer of anything positive he’d seen since they’d found the girl. “I know you gotta go,” she said. But she tugged him down as she stood up on her toes. He leaned the rest of the way to give her a kiss goodbye, not a hungry one like they’d shared earlier, or a tentative one like he’d given her on the dock. A caring kiss. A kiss that forgave him for leaving.

  Hauk stroked her cheek, the one that wasn’t bruised from the force of Ric’s attack, and cursed himself for letting the murderer go. Ananke was stepping up their game, bringing the fight to the Underlight with a violence they’d never displayed before. Hauk wanted nothing more than to get Jolie out of the blast zone before whatever bomb they were planting went off.

  But he had a terrible feeling it was already too late.

  Chapter Four

  The old-fashioned charm of the Underlight soothed Jolie, relieving some of the emotional armor she’d surrounded herself with during the police’s endless questioning. Here in the great room four fireplaces crackled, spreading light and warmth from the tiled floor to the cathedral ceilings. Above her head, a message hissed as it zipped through the maze of clear pipes in the strange communication system of the Underlight.

  Even at this late hour, night owls sat at the community tables, playing board games or working on projects. A couple took down faux icicles and other wintry décor to replace them with spring greenery. Soon the Underlight would be blooming with flowers grown underground through some light invention of Tally’s. Jolie hadn’t been here to see it last year, but she l
ooked forward to the impossible new life. Miracles like that seemed a regular occurrence around here.

  The Underlight was cheer and warmth in a way she’d never felt before. It made her feel jaded and yet so grateful that a place like this could exist.

  Hauk returned with two mugs of coffee and slid an arm around her. She leaned in. His touch was exactly what she needed right now.

  Behind them, the voices of the knitting crew rose in excitement. As the daughter of one of Ananke’s officers, Jolie had had a hard time gaining the confidence of the Citizens of the Underlight. But the knitting crew had been enamored of her relationship with Hauk even before it existed. After she’d rescued him two weeks ago, they’d become her biggest cheering squad.

  The tide was definitely turning in her favor, something that had mattered deeply to her a month ago. At this moment, though, she had Hauk, and that was what mattered most.

  “How are you holding up?” he asked.

  “Much better now,” she said, practically into his chest.

  His heartbeat picked up and his body tensed. She’d bet their public contact made him nervous. He’d been solicitous but shy as he escorted her down to the Underlight, tripping over his words and hesitant in his touches. Now he stood, feet pointed toward his room and heels rooted to the ground, as if he knew where he wanted to go but was unsure of his right to proceed.

  It made her heart a little softer for him. Few guys had ever been able to turn her insides mushy, but the biggest, toughest badass she’d ever met had that effect on her.

  She decided to help him out. “I’d really like a shower. Cake makeup plus extended creepiness equals a desire for soap. Do you mind?”

  He chuckled and took a step forward, pulling her with him out of the great room and into the shadowy hallways toward his quarters. “You naked in my shower? Let’s put that on the list of things I don’t mind at all. Anytime you want to, just show up.”

  She squeezed his hand. “I like that policy. Just show up. My place, too. No invitation necessary.”

  He shot her a startled look. They arrived at his door, and with that same wide-eyed expression he pushed it open, no key necessary. Thievery wasn’t a problem in a small community where everyone knew each other.

  She wrinkled her nose. The key thing did pose a problem to her invitation. It surprised her to realize she didn’t mind Hauk having a key-card to her place, but handing one over so early in the relationship was a little forward, even for her. To stall out any awkward conversations, she winked and marched into his room with an extra swish in her step. She could feel his eyes riveted to her as she sauntered past his bookshelves toward the wood-cut screen blocking off a tiny bathroom.

  Like the rest of the Underlight, Hauk’s room was lit with candlelight and lamps, a romantic consequence of living off the city grid. Flickering light touched wood-carved and wrought-metal furniture. The room was a palette of burnished fall colors: browns, deep greens and sunset orange. Though definitely masculine, it was a comfortable room.

  At the screen, Jolie turned back and caught Hauk watching her derriere. She smirked.

  He smiled, chagrinned at being caught with his eyes down. “I like it when you do that walk.” His laugh was self-deprecating. “Or when you do other walks. Or stand still. Or sit. You’re nice to look at in general.” His eyes were always handsome and warm, but there was something truly special about their deep blue glow when he smiled.

  “Spin,” she demanded.

  He wrinkled his forehead in confusion but did as she asked.

  “Hot damn, Hauk, your ass and leather are a combination made in my dreams.”

  He rotated back to her with a smile that was less embarrassed and more hungry. She crooked a finger at him, and he crossed the room with a grace that belied his size.

  “Give me ten minutes.” She tugged on the belt loops of his leather pants.

  His glance shifted to his dresser drawers, and she knew he was debating what he should cover his skin with. The ten minutes would give him time to change without her in the room. He didn’t yet trust her enough to be naked. That was okay. They’d get there.

  Standing on tiptoe, she kissed Hauk’s cheek. His chin jerked, as if he was startled by the touch, but he exhaled and recovered his calm.

  Commenting might embarrass him further, so she ignored it and smiled seductively. “You’re welcome to come into the bathroom whenever you want.”

  With a light slap to his ass, she headed for the shower. She could feel his covetous eyes on her the whole way around the corner. He didn’t follow immediately, but she’d be surprised if he didn’t show up after he’d changed. Tonight was going to be interesting, balancing the need they both felt with Hauk’s sensitivity to touch.

  Interesting, and a whole lot of fun.

  His bathroom was tiny, with just enough room for a sink, toilet and shower stall, but the appointments were all exquisite—a hammered copper sink, thick green towels and a handmade glass shower door with a smoky texture.

  She turned the water to hot and dropped her clothes on the floor as she thought over the research on burn scars that she’d done since meeting Hauk. At first she’d hit the internet out of curiosity, but over the last two weeks she’d had a more intimate purpose.

  The recovery process for burn scars was so painful and took so long that many patients came to associate all physical contact with pain, sort of like a touch-induced PTSD. Add to that, the scarring could deaden sensation, creating patches of feeling and no feeling across the area. She could touch Hauk somewhere and he wouldn’t feel it; then when she shifted slightly, he’d be startled to realize her hand was on his thigh or whatever. It was also likely Hauk was protective of his new skin, both appreciative for it in ways other people couldn’t be and hating it for the way it changed his life and his self-image.

  She stepped into the shower and let the hot water soak her hair and skin. A physical relationship with Hauk was a little intimidating, and patience wasn’t normally one of her virtues. But Hauk was the kind of man who didn’t come along every day. Hell, she’d never encountered anyone like him and doubted she ever would again. He would risk himself, body and soul, for the people he cared about.

  Now she had to convince him to take risks for himself.

  They would take things as slow as he needed, moving one step at a time. But she could make sure every step rocked his world and left him panting for more.

  As far as plans went, she thought it was a pretty good one.

  * * *

  Hauk pulled a short-sleeved shirt on and shut his dresser. The sound of pelting water changed from the steady staccato on the floor to the uneven rhythm of a body blocking the flow.

  It was amazing to have her here. He shuffled toward the screen like a man hypnotized, imagining her red hair and soft skin naked and soaked.

  He wouldn’t have to imagine it anymore.

  At the screen he heard her voice, low but clear, singing some pop song he barely recognized. She was a shower singer, huh? He liked knowing that about her.

  As he stepped around the corner, her voice came through clearer, singing raunchy lyrics without a whit of self-consciousness. He almost made a joke but stopped cold at the sight of her naked back through the textured glass. It wasn’t a clear image. The shadowy swirls distorted her just enough that his imagination still had to engage. But she was naked. In his shower. And her hourglass shape was worthy of a painting.

  Her hands lifted her hair, massaging shampoo into the thick mass. Water trailed down her back, tracking paths he’d give anything to follow with his tongue. Her ass swayed to the rhythm of her song. Long, muscular legs led to her bare feet, something he rarely saw. She stood in his shower like an opened gift, so defenseless and yet content. And she’d invited him to see it.

  He should probably say something, tell her he was there.

  As he opened his mouth to speak, she twisted around to rinse her hair. The words died before he could form them.

  She was still
blurred. But even so he could make out the pink of her nipples and the smooth skin, absolutely smooth, all the way down to the cleft of her sex. Based on the costumes she wore for the burlesque, he’d guess she was waxed bare, but seeing it live blanked his brain.

  She continued to sway as she sang, moving sensually to the rhythm of her words as lather washed down her body. She smoothed back her hair, and her eyes opened. Seeing him, she smiled and finished the last line of her song, singing it to him.

  He briefly considered walking into the shower and pressing her up against the wall. But after the scare she’d received, he didn’t know what she wanted tonight.

  Whatever it was, he was going to try to give it to her.

  “I neglected to get a towel,” she said. “Would you mind handing me one?”

  Not the sort of thing he most wanted to give her, but he could start there.

  He pulled a clean towel from beneath the sink, and she continued talking. “I see I still have a toothbrush.”

  He’d given her one the first time she’d stayed here, after she’d been attacked and knocked unconscious. In a berserker frenzy—literal berserker; the Norse god Odin occasionally liked to play soldier with his body, a relationship they were still working out—he’d rescued her then carried her down without permission from the Underlight’s governing body. It was the only reason the daughter of Reginald Benoit had been considered for membership, and the best decision his volatile alter ego had ever made.

  She opened the shower door a crack and reached through. He handed over the towel, and a moment later she stepped out, wrapped in green. Water droplets dotted her skin, occasionally slipping down the slope of her shoulders or swell of her thighs. She squeezed her hair out over the shower floor then popped back up, a friendly grin lighting her face.

  Friendly. Okay. He could tamp down his hormones. If she wanted a friend after tonight’s trials, he needed to be her friend. Her friend that she slept next to. Hopefully.