“I don’t have time to explain the details, but yes, it was.” His jaw clenched tightly. “I tried to stop you, but I—” He broke off, his throat bobbing. “I wasn’t quick enough. You were too fast.”
“Fast?” Cosette knew she’d done strange things when she was under the influence of the voice, but she had never gone any further than short distances before.
When he didn’t elaborate, she knew that was all she was going to get out of him so she began to dress. Once she’d tied on her panniers and petticoat, shoving her feet into her discarded shoes, she started to throw her gown over her head. Only then did she notice that her overdress wasn’t just soiled—but drenched in blood.
Cosette dropped the garment and stumbled backward, grabbing onto the dusty fireplace mantle for support. “Oh, my God,” she breathed in horror. “Did I —?” She couldn’t even finish the thought; she felt like she was going to be sick. She must have done something truly awful to cause so much . . . carnage.
Davien gave a curse, and then snapped his fingers. Instantly, the dress changed into a dark green traveling gown, free of those terrible, red stains.
She bent down and put it on. “This doesn’t change anything.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I deserve to know what happened!” She shouted. Her hands shook as she clutched the folds of her dress. “And I’m not leaving here until you tell me.”
She could tell that Davien was fighting an inner battle, those dark eyes swirling as his jaw clenched and relaxed several times. “You attacked a nearby farm.”
Cosette swallowed down the bile threatening to rise up at those five words, but she didn’t reply, merely waited for him to continue.
“I was scouting the area in the form of the crow, looking for danger. I never thought it would come from here.” His eyes held her captive. “I saw you leave the cabin, but instead of walking, you were running, almost gliding across the fields. You came upon a flock of sheep, and claws grew out of your hands. You slit every single one of their throats in a matter of moments.”
Cosette looked down at her hands, but they looked as they always did. There wasn’t a trace of blood on them, and yet somehow she had committed this atrocious deed. “How?” It was all she could manage.
He glanced down at her neck. Instantly, she reached up and touched the chain of her locket. “The one controlling your necklace is growing stronger. Before, when you were under its power, your eyes would turn white, but this time they were eclipsed by red.”
Cosette wanted to shut out Davien’s words, to scream and shout, deny his claims. She didn’t want to believe that something that she had treasured for so long, the one constant thing in her life that had given her such hope had now become her curse.
She yanked on the chain, but it held like a noose around her neck. She heard a distant laugh in the echoes of her mind.
You can never be free of me, Cosette, for we are of one blood.
You should just accept your fate.
The voice had never come to her during her consciousness before. The fact that it did so now only confirmed what Davien said: the power was growing stronger. “Stop it!” She clutched her head. “Leave me alone!”
Cosette ran outside and looked about, almost frantically, until she found what she was looking for. She fell to her knees before a large rock, and picked up a smaller one from the ground. She set the face of the locket on top and brought the rock down. She waited to hear the crunch of broken metal, but instead, the rock flew out of her hands and smashed against a tree, dust raining down on the ground.
Tears flooded her vision as she tried again, and again, and again. But all the results were the same.
The locket refused to break.
It wasn’t until she had the fifth rock, poised and ready above her head, did Davien appear to gently remove it from her grasp. “It’s no use, Cosette.” He brought her against his chest and stroked her unbound hair.
She hit his back with her fist in frustration. “There has to be a way,” she sobbed.
He didn’t reply. He didn’t have to.
They both knew that there might never be a way to break the spell.
She was just as cursed as he was.
After a time, Davien finally rose to his feet. He held a hand out to her. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
Home. Cosette had never thought of any place as home before, but somehow, in the short time she’d known Davien, oddly enough Shadowlawn had become just that.
She put her hand in his and stood—just as a threatening click sounded from behind them.
“What are you doing on my land?”
~ ~ ~
Davien turned to face the intruder, to find a man pointing a musket at them, while the lad from earlier stood beside him. As Davien feared, he’d run off to alert his uncle of the lady in his abandoned hunting cabin. It was obvious by his wide eyes that he hadn’t counted on her having a companion.
“He wasn’t here before,” the boy whispered, although the words carried with ominous intent.
Davien held up a hand, his other still holding onto Cosette. “My wife and I were just passing through,” he said in perfect French.
The uncle didn’t lower his weapon. “Intruders aren’t welcome here. They’re usually bad news.”
“S’il vous plait.” Cosette held up her hands, and continued in French, “We don’t mean any harm.”
The man didn’t appear to be impressed by her plea. Instead, his eyes narrowed. “There are some people looking for a couple that fit your description.” He spat at the ground. “I may have to escort you into the village.”
Davien sighed. He’d hoped this confrontation wouldn’t have to get nasty. “I’m afraid that’s impossible.”
His opponent grinned widely. “Is that so?”
“Indeed,” Davien said smoothly.
“In that case.” The man kept his gaze fixated on Davien, but he spoke to the lad. “Go fetch the magistrate.”
As the boy nodded and ran off, Davien decided it was time to act. The man only had one shot, so all he needed to do was protect Cosette from the line of fire. He summoned his wings and spread them out behind him. The man’s eyes instantly widened, the temporary distraction causing his weapon to waver. But it was enough.
Davien pulled Cosette into the circle of his arms and shot into the sky.
~ ~ ~
Cosette held her breath as they flew high into the cover of the clouds. She clung to Blackburn as he soared overhead, catching only glimpses of the earth below them. Mile after mile slowly receded into the distance with each mighty flap of those large wings. She knew that he had to be growing tired, but he didn’t stop. Even when she saw the sparkling water of the sea that separated France and England, he continued on.
It wasn’t until she spied the white cliffs around Dover did Davien finally land. His wings vanished, as he collapsed against the stone wall surrounding them.
Cosette slowly wandered to the edge of the battlement and looked out across the section of land that had been called ‘the key to England,’ and the largest medieval castle to ever be built on English soil. She never thought she would ever see Dover Castle, let alone stand on top of the Great Tower.
The sky was free of clouds here, and as she looked out across the sea, she thought she could, indeed, catch a glimpse of the country they had just fled. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “It’s as if you can touch the heavens, just by standing here.”
Davien came to stand beside her, having fully recovered. “It is rather remarkable.”
She turned to him. “So are you.”
He lifted a lazy brow. “Why, dear Cosette, you wouldn’t be flirting with me, would you?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “You’ll have to figure it out.”
>
His dark eyes were dancing with merriment, the beast inside content. “Shall we explore the rest?” He didn’t wait for her to agree, just took her hand.
One minute, they were standing on the top of the battlement and the next they were inside the Great Tower.
“Should we be in here?” she asked, taking in the stone walls and arched hallways.
“Why not? No one has lived here since the time of Henry II. It’s used primarily as a fortress now.”
Excitement began to course through Cosette’s veins. “Lead the way, Your Grace.”
A slight rumble grew from his chest. “You’ll regret that later, my dear, Cosette.”
She laughed as he tugged her along behind him. For a brief moment, cursed or not, she felt . . . liberated, unencumbered by curses, unseen evil forces, and even her own insecurities. She was merely Cosette du Bouir.
For two hours, they explored every door and passage that the massive castle had to offer. She giggled more than she had in months, feeling as free as a young girl in the first blush of youth with the promise of better things to come, until reality intruded and cast her back down.
It wasn’t until they stood outside beside the gray stone, Roman lighthouse, and the crumbling church of St Mary-in-Castro, did Davien finally turn to her. But instead of words, he kissed her, his mouth moving over hers with that expert precision she had come to adore. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body closer, as his hands encircled her waist, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted more.
When he broke their embrace, she asked breathlessly, “I’m still waiting for you to teach me a lesson in manners, Your Grace,” she added for good measure.
His mouth kicked up in the corner. “It sounds like you have something in mind.”
“Perhaps.” She grinned unrepentantly.
He raised his arm, blocking her in. “Pray tell.”
“Make love to me.” It came out in a breathless rush, but she could tell by the way his eyes darkened that he’d heard her clearly enough.
Instead of drawing her closer, he pushed off of the stone and turned his back with a firm, “No.”
She shoved down her disappointment and crossed her arms. “Why not?” She started to move forward. “Don’t you . . . want me?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Davien—”
He spun around so abruptly that she retreated a step, her back coming in contact with the hard, cold stone. His eyes were glowing. “Because I don’t want to hurt you!”
She felt her eyes widen. “Have you ever . . . injured anyone before?” She hated herself for even voicing such a question.
“No.” Hard, detatched. “But I don’t want to take the chance with you. The beast is more . . . dominant when I’m with you. I can’t—” he amended, “I won’t take the chance that it could harm you.”
Her heart broke. She reached for him, but he evaded her touch. “I trust you,” she whispered.
“You shouldn’t,” he snapped.
He stalked away from her, disappearing among the ruins of the church.
~ ~ ~
Cosette was going to be the death of him. He was sure of it.
But it wouldn’t be because of a knife to his throat.
Davien ran a hand through his hair. She would kill him with words—actions that he couldn’t act upon for fear of the beast’s strength.
He looked at his hands to find that they were shaking.
Ever since he’d seen Cosette in London that night in the rain, he knew she was going to be different. He’d tried to ignore her, to push her from his mind, but he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame.
What she asked of him now was beyond the pale. To act so recklessly would not be without disastrous results. He knew it as well as he knew his own name. It didn’t matter how much he might be tempted, Davien might pleasure Cosette in every way possible that he could imagine, but he would not bed her. Not as long as she could be used as leverage, a pawn in this sick game that someone had designed to imprison him in. He still had a hint of humanity left, a spark of nobility, so he refused to condemn her to a life where there was that constant threat, determined to divide them.
He closed his eyes and summoned Quinn. The quicker that they returned to Shadowlawn, the easier it would be to distance himself from Cosette, and remember that nothing had changed.
He was still a monster.
Chapter 16
It was dusk by the time Cosette heard the unmistakable sound of an approaching carriage. After Davien had deserted her, cast her aside, she’d reluctantly returned to the Great Tower. She climbed to the top once more, and just sat there, looking out over the Dover Narrows, thinking about their current circumstances, and what she might be able to do to fix things. Unfortunately, their only lead, that voice calling to her about Paris, was no longer an option to explore. They couldn’t return to France without being arrested. Or worse.
Even if Davien had been able to recover Calmet’s book from the hotel, as much as she’d researched that volume, she had begun to realize that it was a dead end. She also didn’t want to admit that Davien was right, that he truly had investigated every source at his disposal and there really was no way to break his curse, but it was starting to appear that way.
She reached up and touched the chain of her locket. It had always helped her to comfort her, or solve problems in the past, but it would seem that old habits died hard. Now, it was only a reminder of what she stood to lose should that voice start to control her completely. She would be no better than Davien—a cursed woman with a future as bleak as her past.
She let her hand fall to her lap.
A black crow landed on the wall in front of her, cocking his head to observe her with those familiar, beady eyes. “Is it time to depart?” she asked.
For answer, it only cawed, before hopping off and flying away.
Cosette sighed, but she stood and climbed down, the lovely scenery of the day slowly fading, along with the dreams in her heart.
~ ~ ~
Cosette wondered if there was some sort of spell over the carriage, for it seemed as if they were back at Shadowlawn in just a few short hours in a journey that should have taken much longer. Then again, she likely slept for most of it. She’d been left to her own devices, for Davien had kept his feathered form. At times, she would see him sail past her window.
However, the moment the coach rolled to a stop, the duke was there in human form offering her a hand down. She considered ignoring his offer, but decided against it. There was no reason both of them should be unreasonable.
Inside, she went upstairs, and directly to her chamber. She walked over to her wardrobe and flung open the doors. As suspected, all of her things were back, placed in their perfect order. She stripped off the gown she was wearing and threw it over the back of a nearby chair. Her undergarments quickly followed. Someday soon she might just have a big bonfire to rid herself of those bad memories. Even though Davien had worked his magic to change her dress, she knew what it had looked like before that.
She walked over to the privacy screen where she knew a hot bath would be waiting, for the steam was already fogging up the windows. She dipped a cautious toe inside, and then quickly immersed the rest of her body. She took a deep breath and slid her head underneath to get her hair wet, and wondered, for the slightest moment, if she shouldn’t just stay there and allow herself to succumb to a watery grave, to finish what the voice had started the day she found herself at the edge of that pond.
At this point, she had nearly given up hope of ever finding Charlotte, and remaining as a prisoner at Shadowlawn wasn’t truly living, however much she might think of it as home now. So what else was there to live for? It was obvious she was a terrible mistress, for she couldn’t even seduce Blackburn properly. But
the damage had already been done, any respectable door would be closed to her after this. There would be no more seamstress positions. She would be forced to sell her body to survive, the one thing she’d sworn never to do. But what options were left for a poor orphan with no family, no connections?
If nothing else, putting an end to it all would finally stop these terrible blackouts. Whenever she thought of those poor sheep she’d unknowingly slaughtered she thought, What if it had been a person instead, someone like that little boy? She wouldn’t be able to live with her conscious knowing that she’d murdered an innocent human being.
She opened her eyes under the water. She could see the elegant ceiling above her, but it was distorted, the clear ripples wavering in her line of sight.
It would be easy. Painless. If she just closed her eyes, let the water overtake her . . .
She couldn’t control anything in her life—except this. If she released the air in her lungs, she could end her suffering, end it all right now . . .
Cosette caught only a glimpse of Davien’s face, as his rough hands pulled her from the tub. She stood, naked and dripping all over the carpet at her feet, but his thunderous gaze didn’t waver from hers. But when he spoke, there was no anger, only an emotion so tortured and distraught that his voice was hoarse because of it.
“How could you even consider something so—” He broke off and tried again. “Don’t ever think of such things again. Do you hear me? I . . . need you, Cosette.” He lifted her into his arms. “And it’s time I showed you exactly just how much.”
~ ~ ~
The beast was moving inside of him. Davien could feel it, he could sense it, as if they truly had morphed into one entity. He had done everything in his power to keep this from happening. He’d reminded himself time and again to stay away from Cosette, to keep his distance. He’d even convinced himself that he had the control to do so.
The Secrets of Shadows Page 13