Beauty's Beasts: An Urban Fantasy Fairy Tale (Poison Courts Book 1)

by L. C. Hibbett

  A thick-necked man appeared at my side. “Hey baby, can I buy a—”

  “No.” I didn’t even bother to look him in the face. My nerves were stretched too tightly to deal with slimy creeps, even for a moment. I tapped the side of my glass, searching for any sign of Chesca or Nicole. The knot in my stomach wound a little tighter. Maybe I should have listened to Teddy and Mac. I was out of my depth. This wasn’t the service—I didn’t have a brief, or a file, or a team. I swallowed hard, wincing at the familiar pain in my chest. I wondered would there ever be a time when the feeling of loss wasn’t strong enough to leave me breathless.

  I knocked back the cocktail and gestured for the bartender to get me another. They looked ridiculous, but they tasted great. I wrapped my fingers around the stem of the glass and tried to quell my rising sense of unease. I stared at my reflection behind the bar with a curled lip. When I was on active service, I wouldn’t have dreamed of drinking on a job. I’d become someone I didn’t recognise. I slammed down on a wave of self-loathing and murmured into my glass, even though it was impossible for anyone to hear anything quieter than a roar over the pounding music coming from the DJ booth. “Chesca and Nicole are okay. They don’t know anything that can put them in danger. Unless he runs random genetic testing for supernatural DNA markers on his customers, Gastone has no idea what they are either. You have a plan—tell them Blackwood and his gang are jerks but everything’s all right now. Drink and flirt with Gastone. Drop your glass, prick him with a shard, and dab his blood with your napkin. Pretend to be wasted, get a taxi home, get taken back to the manor and safety by the Guild monitor people. The end.”

  I drained the glass and waved for a third pink potion. It had seemed like a more solid plan when I was fifteen miles away from Oak Crescent. I recrossed my legs and started to jiggle my foot. “Where the fuck are my sisters?”

  “Tut, tut, Izzy. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not fucking ladylike to curse? Although, those disgusting boots are a good distraction from your filthy mouth. They’d probably distract people from the apocalypse—where do you even manage to find such ugly shoes?”

  I felt a surge of warm, irritated, fizzy relief and I threw my arms around my shocked looking sister. She was the bane of my life, a blister on my ass cheek, but she was all okay. And she wasn’t being bled dry by a vampire. Win, win. I released her from the first hug we’d shared since grade school, and Nicole called for three cocktails.

  “Where’s Chesca?” I asked.

  “Cheers, sister.” Nicole lifted her glass and knocked it against mine. “Chesca’s over here.” Nicole’s lips tightened and she pushed her way through the crowd. I pulled out the wad of cash Blackwood had given me and tossed some of the notes on the bar before I tucked the rest back into my bra, grinning as I remembered the way Blackwood had turned his stiff back to me and pretended he couldn’t see where I was stashing the cash. I grabbed the third drink in my left hand and followed Nicole to the back of the room. She nodded at the men by the doors and they swept them open for us to pass. Nicole lifted her chin and spoke to me down her nose. “Chesca and I prefer the private lounge.”

  “Of course you do, Marie Antoinette.” Nicole cut her eyes at me but she didn’t respond. I reminded myself that I needed to play nice if I was going to pull this off. I jogged to keep up with Nicole’s purposeful stride. The corridor twisted to the right and we started to descend a narrow set of stairs. “The VIP area is in the basement. Cool. Cool, cool, cool.”

  Nicole cut me another look. I took a gulp of the cocktail. “So, you got my text? Ugh, those assholes from Lunar Properties were total jerks. So glad Dad won’t have to work with them again. I need about ten more of these drinks to burn the last twenty-four hours from my mind.” Nicole gave me a tight smile. The stairs ended at a metal door. Nicole pressed a button and tapped her foot as she waited for it to open. I leaned against the wall. “Are Marco and Dylan in there with Chesca?”

  It took all my self-restraint not to call Chesca and Nicole’s boyfriends by their names as opposed to the many other things I preferred to call them. Nicole’s lips twitched. “Sure.”

  “What about Julian Gastone?” I had finished my own cocktail so I started on Chesca’s. “I was thinking maybe I should reconsider that offer of dinner with him. It can’t be that awful, right? Not like he’s hideous ugly or anything.”

  The door in front of us slid open to reveal a smiling Julian Gastone and a screen displaying video and sound footage of the doorway. Of course, it did. Ideal.

  I gave Julian Gastone a forced smile and he swept his arm outwards and bowed slightly. “Enchanted, Miss O’ Neill.” He took my hand and lifted it to his lips. I tried to breathe through my discomfort as every inch of my skin itched to escape his touch.

  I disentangled my fingers from his and stepped past him into the small hallway, doing my best impression of charming. “Thank you—may I call you Julian?”

  “Please do. And I hope you won’t mind if I call you Belle?” He asked.

  Miss O’ Neill, Belle; my stomach churned as he used both names Blackwood called me by—fucking right, I mind, you little creep. I flashed my sweetest smile, making sure my dimples winked at him. “I would love if you did. Nicole and Francesca have only good things to say about you and your friends.”

  Gastone smiled and opened the door into a small cocktail lounge with dim lighting, velvet couches, and cheesy ambiance music playing in the background. Nicole led the way and settled herself on an empty couch close to the bar. I scanned the small room for Chesca, but I could barely make anything out in the dim light.

  A group of people sat chatting on the opposite side of the room but if Chesca was there, she made no effort to greet me. Just as the door clicked shut and I heard the whir of an automatic locking system, my eyes focused on a blond haired man sitting in the corner. Hair so blond, it was almost white—the color of an Arctic wolf’s fur. My gut spasmed and I spun around, straight into Julian Gastone’s chest. “And tell me, little Belle, what does Alexander Blackwood say about me?”

  Jonathan. I tried to twist my body so I could glare at the werewolf, but Gastone grabbed my wrists and held them tightly enough to send darts of pain up my arms. I clenched my teeth and refused to cry out as the lights brightened and Gastone’s people gathered around us. I glanced at Nicole, ready to calm her, but my sister was sipping her cocktail and watching the scene unfold with interest. There was no trace of surprise on her face. I glared at her. “Nicole, where’s Chesca?”

  Gastone crushed his fingers even tighter around my wrists. “I’m afraid your sister needed a little nap. She’s what we vampires call, a sensitive—a little too soft for this kind of business. I suspect her genetics are paying homage to the fae blood in her ancestry. That’s always been the Irish witches’ downfall; they never could resist the taste of the fairies.” He leaned closer and placed his lips against my ear. “A little bird told me you’re not immune to the fairy touch. I have my own fairy here, you know. Play your cards right, and you and I might spend a little time with her tonight when all this is over.”

  “Where’s my sister?” I strained to escape Gastone’s hold, twisting my head to face Nicole. “Nicky, where the fuck is Chesca.”

  “She’s safe.” I recognized Jonathan’s voice and a surge of adrenaline gave me the strength to wrench myself from Gastone’s grip.

  I lunged at the werewolf but several more sets of hands grabbed me and held me back. “What are you doing here, Jonathan?”

  The shifter had the good grace to look shamefaced. “I did what I had to do, Isabelle. You’ll understand someday when you find your own true love. You’ll do whatever it takes to keep that person safe.”

  “Not this,” I spat. “I would never work with somebody who wanted my family dead. How long have you been Gastone’s dog, Jonathan? Did you help him put the curse on Blackwood?”

  “No, of course not.” Jonathan looked genuinely horrified and I felt like screaming in his face that traitors did
n’t have the right to feel offended.

  Gastone spread himself out on one of the velvet couches and gestured for his cronies to place me beside him. I squirmed and kicked but there were too many of them. Gastone lifted me as if I was a doll and twisted me so that I was kneeling over his lap, one bare thigh on either side of his hips.

  I pulled my skull back to head butt him but he lifted one finger in warning. “Now, now, my pretty little Belle, think of your sister. You remember the story of sleeping beauty, don’t you? An enchanted sleep is difficult to wake from, only the fae can break the spell. I have a fae who can rouse her from sleep. Or not. Whatever I decide. But this isn’t a fairy tale, little beauty, in the real world people age whether they slumber or not. And I can choose whether that sleep is sweet and peaceful or an eternal nightmare.”

  My stomach dropped as I listened to Gastone’s threat and I stared over my shoulder at Nicole. She took another delicate sip of her cocktail and the pit in my stomach deepened. Gastone trailed his fingers over my jaw, turning my face back in his direction. “I’m afraid there’s not much use appealing to your sister. She’s angry with you, you see. She’s not at all happy that you conspired with your father to keep her potential from her.”

  I shook my head. “That not what—”

  “Oh, but it is what happened, Belle. You discovered the truth of your existence and you chose to conceal it from your sisters, just as your father had concealed it from you.” Gastone gave Nicole a sad smile.

  “No, I would have told her. I was going to tell her later.” I spoke to Nicole over my shoulder. “I didn’t want to panic you. I only found out today and by then, I knew you’d already gone to Gastone, and I was afraid if I told you the truth while you were here, he’d find out and keep you as his personal witch. Or want to, anyway.”

  “And I do want you.” Gastone gave Nicole a lingering look and her breath visibly quickened. He turned his stare on me. “I want you all. My own personal coven for my own little magical republic—you must remind me to thank Blackwood for his family’s generosity in creating a Guild free magical republic, what a treat! I couldn’t have done it without him.”

  I shook my head. “They’ll find out. The Guild knows I’m here. There’s no way they’ll let you get away with keeping my sister and me here like prisoners. Blackwood and his men won’t let you. My father and the Guild commander won’t—”

  “They won’t do fucking a thing.” Julian Gastone tightened his hold on my bare thighs, digging his thumbs into my flesh. “Alexander Blackwood let you walk into my lair, even though he’s too afraid to come here himself. The Guild used him as your jailer so they could manipulate your father into doing their bidding. And Blackwood and his pack did nothing. If you think the Guild’s lapdogs are going to come rushing to your aid, you’re very mistaken.”

  Gastone worked his way up my thighs, tracing small circles on my skin. “No, they don’t have the balls to fight for what they want.” He eased his fingers under the hem of my dress. I froze, every muscle in my body rigid. “And now, they’ve handed me my own personal coven of witches, because they weren’t man enough to come and rescue your sisters themselves. I win, little witch. This whole county will be my magical kingdom and you and your sister will lie at my feet as I rule—you’ll lie anywhere I tell you to, and you’ll beg me for more.” He ran his hands up over my hips as he spoke, reaching around to grab my ass.

  “I’d rather eat shit than lie with a megalomaniac like you.” My palm cracked against his cheek and his hands shot from my buttocks to my neck.

  The room began to sway as he crushed my windpipe. “You’ll pay for that tonight, you little slut, I’ll take you in front of your boyfriends smoldering corpses and when I’m done with you, it will be a week before you can—”

  “Julian!” Jonathan pressed his hand down on Gastone’s shoulder. “Stop. We need a witch to break the spell on the forest and eliminate the pack. We don’t know which of them will be able to activate their latent powers before sunrise—we need all three alive to increase our chances of success.”

  Gastone hissed and released his grasp on my throat. I slid from his lap onto the floor, heaving air into my lungs. Jonathan glanced down at me but he couldn’t meet my eye. Good. Traitorous dog. Gastone stepped over me and kicked my stomach with his heel. “Fine. Throw her with her sister in the cold room.” He held his hand out to Nicole and she rose to her feet and sashayed to his side. “We’ll try to access Nicole’s power first. I suspect her magic will be the most powerful, anyway.”

  The smug smile Nicole gave me as she followed Gastone to a booth in the corner of the room stung more than Gastone’s kick.

  Rough hands dragged me off the ground and behind the bar. Jonathon held the door of the cold room open so that the brute carrying me could throw me inside. I glared at Jonathan and he mumbled at me as he closed the door, “I never wanted this.”

  The lock engaged. I let out a roar and pounded my boots against the door but it was futile. I spun to examine the space and my breath caught in my chest at the sight of Chesca’s still body propped against a pile of boxes. Her face was so pale it was almost blue and her skin was icy to the touch. I pulled her into my arms and tried to share my body heat with her as I assessed the situation. The temperature wasn’t cold enough to cause an immediate threat, but it was low enough to impair our thinking and slow our physical reactions.

  My fingers fumbled with the weapons Blackwood had given me. There hadn’t been many people in the private lounge, maybe ten total. If I was quick and used the element of surprise to my advantage—a thought struck me like a kick in teeth. They were charmed to be effective against vampires. They’d be useless against Jonathan. Or Nicole.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and wrapped my arms and legs around Chesca, pressing our bodies together. “It’s going to be okay, Chesca. Everything is going to be okay.”

  I pretended to myself that the words were for her, but really they were for me.

  The single electric light inside the cold room flickered and died. My heart pounded inside my chest. “For fuck sake, I need a light.” I crushed my hands inside my pockets, struck by sudden inspiration. “You idiot, your phone. Use your damn phone.”

  I pulled it out of my pocket and could have cried with relief when I pressed the screen and it burst into life. “We have battery!” I stared at the screen and the bubble of relief burst. No signal.

  Muffled sounds from outside drew my attention and I shone my phone at the door. The thickly insulated walls made it impossible to hear anything clearly but the noises were getting louder. Maybe Nicole had tapped into her magic. Maybe they were getting ready to leave and attack Blackwood Forest. And the boys wouldn’t know. They wouldn’t escape in time. And my father and Maeve were probably still there, waiting for me to bring the girls back. Waiting for Gastone’s blood.

  Something heavy thumped against the other side of the door and I dragged Chesca behind my back, pulling the blades from my pocket. Maybe I couldn’t kill them all, but I wasn’t going anywhere without a fight.

  The door smashed open and a thick wave of smoke billowed into the cold room. Amber light flickered across my face and the sound of shouting and fighting filled my ears. I raised my arms to fight, trying to focus on the huge figure in front of me. Acrid smoke filled my lungs and blackness begin to creep around the edges of my vision. I lunged, hands lightning fast from years of training, and my knife connected with solid flesh.

  A growl of pain cut through the thick air and a giant arm grabbed me by the waist and pulled me against a rock hard stomach. A burst of white light in the room outside lent a moment of illumination and dark eyes burned down at me. Dark, crescent-shaped eyes. “Teddy!”

  I flung my arms around his neck and pressed my face into the crook of his neck. Large hands held my waist so firmly, I was sure they’d leave imprints on my skin, but I didn’t care. The relief at seeing his handsome face was so strong that it had become a physical ache in my chest.

&n
bsp; “What are you doing here, Teddy? The Guild, I thought you couldn’t openly attack Gastone?” I said.

  Teddy’s eyes flashed in the dim light and his breathing thickened into a growl at the mention of the vampire’s name. “The Guild is gone. They got their proof that Gastone broke his oath to the Guild, now we fight them on an even field. The Guild can’t openly aid us, but they won’t interfere.”

  “Proof? How did—Jonathan!” I crushed my knuckles against my lips. “He isn’t really working for Gastone?”

  “No, he isn’t. We couldn’t tell you what he had planned. I wanted to, but Faye insisted nothing we said would make you stray from your intention and telling you what we planned in advance—it wasn’t safe. And we had to keep you safe, Isabelle. We need you. We want you.” Teddy's voice was hoarse as he pressed his hand against my cheek and it took all my strength not to turn my face and press my lips against his palm. Emotion coursed through my body like wildfire, riding on a flood of adrenaline.

  Another burst of light exploded outside the door and flames, unlike any I had seen before, licked the walls. I stared into the fire, mesmerized by the pink and purple flames. The thick smoke smelled sweet, like blossoms, but my lungs fought to expel it from my body in a violent fit of coughing.

  Teddy swooped down and scooped Chesca’s sleeping body from the floor, putting her gently over one shoulder, and then lifted me with his other arm. I opened my mouth to protest at being carried, but my voice wouldn’t come. Teddy plunged into the burning room as unconsciousness claimed me.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Chesca! Teddy?” I dragged myself into an upright position and flung the blanket covering me onto the floor. My throat was raw and my lungs burned. My head was spinning wildly as I blinked to adjust to the bright fluorescent light. The room was windowless and bare except for a single hospital bunk and an IV stand. I followed the line into my arm and started frantically scraping at the surgical tape, but my fingers were numb and unresponsive. I slid off the bed and tried to yank the line out but my legs refused to support my weight and I pitched toward the floor.