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

by L. C. Hibbett

  “His own army? Come on, the guy is a total creep, but he’s no Napoleon. What would he even do with an army?” I scoffed.

  “Isabelle, I need to tell you a story from my youth, but you might not like how it ends.” I stared at my father in disbelief—impending war and childhood memories? “We talked about Dagda Preparatory school earlier, the school for supernatural students run by the Irish witches, remember?” I tilted my head slightly and raised one eyebrow. “But what I didn’t mention was that I met Mama there. She was in the year below me and I knew I’d marry her from the first time I heard her laugh.”

  My arms unfolded and fell into my lap. I’d always loved my mother’s bellow, so unexpected when it burst from her petite frame. My father gave me a tired smile. “The fae say when a supernatural meets their true love, their heart always recognizes their kindred spirit. And I knew she was the girl for me, even though I was a quiet, studious sixteen-year-old scholarship kid and she was a wealthy heiress with a gaggle of friends. Then fate played an ace for me. A student at the junior school was expelled for magical mayhem and my younger cousin Mary was offered the girl’s place. Once Mary realized I had a thing for Mama, that was it. She set her mind to pairing us up and she didn’t stop trying to sow the seeds of romance between us until we were engaged to be married. She was a force of nature, Mary, even as a ten-year-old. If she put her mind to something . . .”

  My father’s voice trailed off and I leaned a little closer to him. Blackwood did the same and my father glanced at us with a slightly startled expression, as if our interest had woken him from a daydream. He straightened his shoulders. “Yes. Mary was a very spirited girl. I suppose that’s what caught the gods’ attention, her energy, and her talent. And once Balor set his sights on a girl, they were as good as his, whether they wanted it or not. She hadn’t even graduated before they were married and she was carrying a child of the gods in her womb.”

  I pressed my hands against my heart, unsettled by its pounding, but it kept racing in my chest as my father continued to speak. “She gave birth to the baby at school on the day she should have been sitting her final school exams. But the baby was never found. She said it had died and she’d buried the body with her bare hands in her grief. Balor had every witch in his bloodline search for the child’s remains, but they never found a trace.”

  I stared at my father, horrified by the turn the story had taken. “Balor closed ranks then, drawing his bloodline close around him. Nobody was allowed to see Mary without swearing fealty to his family, not even her own mother. When rumors began to spread that Mary was pregnant again, her younger sister couldn’t bear to think of her alone so she swore the oath and was accepted into Balor’s family. My aunt never saw either girl again.”

  “The baby?” I was surprised by the urgency in my own voice. “Was the other baby okay?”

  My father nodded and turned to look at Blackwood. Blackwood exhaled and rested his back against the wall. He dug his claws into the pocket of his black jeans and my stomach jumped. Mussed-up hair, dirt-smudged face, torn shirt, clawed hands—he was still beautiful. Blackwood turned his dark green stare on me. “The baby was a girl, and she was everything Balor had been waiting for.”

  Blackwood’s words hit me like the clanging of a bell. My father sighed and rubbed his temples. “Yes. She was everything Balor wanted and everything the world should fear. A black witch. The first to be born to the Celtic gods since the Morrigan. A witch who holds the power of life and death in her hands. And Balor would stop at nothing to mold her in his image, his own personal goddess of destruction; no other family could best him with his daughter by his side, not even the Guild could master a black witch.”

  “But Balor couldn’t bring the child to heel,” Blackwood said, taking over from my father. “He blamed her mother for the child’s stubbornness, so Mary vanished, taken from the child without warning or explanation. Then her aunt too disappeared, leaving the girl alone with Balor and his family. He closed the gates of Dagda Prep to anyone who wouldn’t swear fealty to him and began to plot his inevitable lordship over the supernatural people—the whole world would kneel before him.”

  “Because the black witch was his,” my father said.

  Blackwood gave my father a grim smile. “Until she wasn’t.”

  “Somebody took her?” My hands flew to my mouth.

  “Rumor has it, she just walked out of his life,” Blackwood said. “Balor was so convinced of his own invincibility that he never considered his daughter might want a different life to the one he had planned for her.”

  “She just disappeared? The most powerful person in the world and nobody knows where she is? Nobody can find her?” My eyes narrowed on Blackwood. “The Guild knows where she is, don’t they?”

  “The Guild has their suspicions,” Blackwood said. I opened my mouth but he cut across me before I could make my accusations. “The Guild doesn’t want Destiny’s power, Miss O’ Neill. I know the Guild seems like the enemy to you, but it’s not. The people who work to protect the Guild only want to keep the supernatural world safe and at peace.”

  “Destiny. What a name,” I said, feeling an inexplicable liking for the tragic girl who was strong enough to defy the gods. “How old is she now?”

  My father smiled. “Only a few years younger than you, almost twenty-one.”

  I turned back to Blackwood. “And she’s safe and well?”

  “For now.” Blackwood’s tone was somber. “Anyone that powerful is always vulnerable, especially without a support system. Everyone wants a piece of her. Even little upstarts like Julian Gastone, because they know what they could achieve with a piece of land free from the Guilds rule and a black witch by their side. If she had the protection of the Guild, or the free witches, or one of the gods—well, she might have a chance. But alone . . .”

  “How did the Guild find her? Why hasn’t her father been able to?” I asked. My fingers picked at the comforter.

  Blackwood stared at my father and lifted his eyebrows. My father shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “The Guild had a lead. Blood is a very powerful thing for a supernatural. It can be used to cast spells, to curse, to trace the lost. Even if you don’t have a sample of the person’s blood, you could locate them using their family’s blood.”

  “Her mother was your cousin. You gave the Guild your blood to trace her?” I pressed my lips together, uncertain how to feel.

  My father shook his head slowly, glancing at Blackwood. The air in the room was suddenly warm and oppressive. I pulled at the tight bodice of my dress. My father’s voice was strained. “No, Belle. That wouldn’t work. To trace a witch, you must use the blood of a full-sibling. A brother or a sister.” I screwed my eyes up as I stared at my father. My mind moved in jolts and starts, unable to form a complete thought. “But I wanted Destiny to be safe. Your mother and I had made a promise to Mary all those years ago—we couldn’t let her down. I had to give them the blood.”

  “Whose blood did you give the Guild to trace, Daddy?” My tongue was made of lead.

  My father met my eye. “I said you mightn’t like how this story ended, Isabelle.”

  “Whose blood?” I asked the question, already knowing the answer but not its significance.

  “Yours,” my father whispered.

  Time and space had ruptured at the seams as I stared at the man I had always believed to be my father through a tunnel of memories. A lifetime of moments built on a lie. I heard the door open and Mac say Faye had returned and Chesca was waking, but my brain refused to compute the information. My body and my mind were floating independently of each other. I blinked at my father’s back as he hurried from the room, glancing back over his shoulder at Blackwood for reassurance. It was only when the door closed behind him that the bubble burst and the pain of deceit rushed over me like the tide. I turned my face into my pillow and screamed until I was too hoarse to scream anymore.

  Blackwood waited until I’d finished before he sat down in my father’s
chair. I flopped onto my back and stared at the sterile, white ceiling. “The first baby didn’t die. She gave me away.”

  “Yes. That’s what your father told the Guild.” Blackwood’s voice was low and even. “He only came forward after rumors spread that Destiny had escaped from her father’s control.”

  I narrowed my eyes at the ceiling. “And why would the Guild trust you with such confidential information?”

  “Our last mission was in Ireland. The commander tasked me with investigating some leads for her—using the blood your father had given the Guild. I was ordered to keep it from the pack for their safety, so I did. Jonathan guessed last night. I still haven’t informed the others. It’s not my place,” Blackwood said.

  I turned onto my side and hugged the comforter against my chest. “Do you like being pack leader?”

  Blackwood looked surprised by my question. He slid his chair along the floor until he was level with my face. “Sometimes. Sometimes, it weighs me down. When I see the others letting go, being free—I can’t do that. Not without putting the team at risk. And I struggle with that. I don’t want to be bitter. I don’t want to envy my friends.”

  “You’re a good leader, Blackwood. They love you. Even though you’re an ass.” Blackwood’s grin exploded across his face like the sun after a rainstorm. My chest tightened and I tugged at the corner of my lip with my teeth. “I wasn’t a very good leader. I’m selfish, Mac’s right. Always wanting to be the one who carries the heaviest load and takes the first blow—it sounds like the noble thing to do, but it’s not. Not really. Not if you take on so much your team will have to sacrifice themselves to save you.”

  Blackwood bent his neck so that he could look into my eyes. “Your father told me what happened to your men, Miss O’Neill. It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t possibly have known there was an attack coming. You did everything you could to get your team out. They made a choice, and they made it freely, and you brought home the intelligence that saved hundreds more lives in the field. Your men didn’t die in vain. You should be incredibly proud of them, just like I’m sure they’d be proud of you.”

  I tried to turn my face away, unable to bear the depth of his compassion, but he pressed his clawed hand against my cheek so I couldn’t look away. I froze, and Blackwood tried to pull his arm back as if he hadn’t been aware that he was touching me. On impulse, I grabbed hold of his hand and held it against my skin. The fur was softer than I expected and I felt a surge of emotion as Blackwood relaxed under my touch. I closed my eyes and dragged his rough palm from my face and down my neck onto my bare shoulders, feeling my body respond to a man’s touch for the second time that morning.

  “Miss O’Neill.” Blackwood’s breath was labored as his hand hovered just above the swell of my breast. I tilted my face toward his and opened my eyes. He groaned as if he was in pain, lifting his hand away from my body. My disappointment was so sharp my gut ached. Blackwood dug the heels of his hand into his temples. “Miss O’Neill, I’m sorry—”

  “Don’t apologize. It’s my fault.” I shook myself into action, pulling the comforter up to my armpits and swinging myself off the bed. Whatever Mac had given me had done the trick and my legs supported my weight without a tremor. “There’s something about this house, the forest, the pack—I’m not myself. I’m sorry. I thought I felt a connection with the pack. With you. I was mistaken.”

  I tried to step past Blackwood, but he shot from the chair and swept me across the room so that I was pinned between his hard body and the wall. My body responded with such intensity that I couldn’t breathe. Every cell in body contracted and expanded as I watched his lips inch closer to me. His pupils were so wide I could barely see the ring of green surrounding them. My mouth opened and I inhaled in anticipation. Blackwood dug his claws into the wall on either side of my head.

  He stared into my eyes unmoving as if he was fighting an internal battle, but I couldn’t wait another second. I snaked forward and wound my arms around his neck, pulling his soft lips against mine. His body stiffened as I slid my fingers down his ripped shirt and traced the fly of his jeans with my knuckles, and he moaned into my mouth. With Herculean effort, he pulled himself away from my grasp and retreated to the other side of the room.

  I glared at him in confused frustration and he held his hands out in a pleading gesture. “You’re right. There’s no mistake. You stomped into my basement and put your mark on me. On the pack. We want you. Need you.”

  Blackwood leaned his weight on the back of the chair and ran his eyes over my body. “When I saw you in that dress on the bike last night . . .” He bit his lip and exhaled slowly. “But it’s not safe, Belle. You’re not safe here. It’s not safe with us.”

  “Gastone knows who I am, doesn’t he? He wants to use me to track my sister and create his army. That’s why he’s here, in Oldham County. Not for you. For me,” I said.

  Blackwood’s jaw was hard enough to break stone. “Yes. I think he’s been chasing your birth mother’s family tree, searching for children around the age Destiny’s older sibling would be. In your father’s offspring, he struck gold, three children, all possibly the right age. And when he realized that you lived in my family’s territory, I don’t think he could resist the ultimate challenge—find the black witch and destroy the Blackwood legacy.” Blackwood dragged his hands through his hairs, breathing hard as he stared across the room at me. “If he discovers you’re my mate, I can’t bear to think what he’d try to do.”

  My lips parted and my heart pounded as Blackwood repeated what Mac had suggested. “Your mate?”

  “Yes.” Blackwood’s voice was quiet but certain. “The pack’s. Theodore and Simon feel it too.”

  I frowned. “But how does it work—I don’t want to break your pack, Jonathan loves Faye—”

  “And we don’t, not like that. Jonathan made his choice. And I didn’t understand it. I was angry when he first told me he loved Faye.” Blackwood’s eyes blazed as he looked at me. “Now I understand. It’s like your father said—it’s not something your head understands, it’s just something your heart knows.”

  I felt a tug inside my chest strong enough to bring tears to my eyes. The jarring jolt of something so true that it resonates within your very core. I swallowed hard and opened my mouth to speak but the words were knocked from my mouth by a petite figure bursting through the door and hurling herself into my arms.

  “Izzy!” I stared down at Chesca and squeezed my arms around her tightly. I didn’t give a damn what anybody said, she was my sister in every way that counted. She pressed her two hands on either side of my face and I realized there was something different about her eyes. Something clearer, less timid. She squeezed my shoulders and stared into my eyes. “It’s time, Izzy. They’re coming.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I don’t like it. It’s a bad plan,” I said. Teddy looked like he wanted to kiss away my fears, but he resisted the urge and continued strapping the weapons belt Blackwood had ordered me to wear onto my waist. I pressed my fingers against the hooded cape I had secured tightly over my hair and crushed my lips together. “Nicole’s not an idiot, she going to see through the disguise in two seconds flat.”

  Chesca strode across the den wearing my jacket and boots and gave my hand a tight squeeze. “If we get Nicole and Julian Gastone close enough for her to see that I’m not you, we’ll have done what we need to, Izzy.”

  “I don’t like it any more than you do, Isabelle, but there isn’t any other way. Gastone’s men have surrounded the forest and Nicole’s magic has activated the final part of the curse—if we can’t break it, Gastone will burn the forest and every living creature in it.” I stared at the man I couldn’t stop thinking of as my father. He was right. The pack couldn’t escape now, even if they were willing to accept the curse of losing their human side. Gastone had set his eyes on his prize and he wasn’t going to leave Blackwood Forest without the means to find his black witch. My baby sister.

  Burn th
e pack, take the black witch’s sister—I was damned if I was going to let the bastard do either of those things.

  “Okay. Walk me through it one last time.” I wrapped my hands around the handles of the magic-infused blades resting on my hips.

  Blackwood ripped his torn shirt from his body and threw it on the table, gesturing for the others to join us. Mac stood between Teddy and Jonathan, and Faye’s image shimmered in the mirror Jonathan wore on a chain around his neck. Chesca linked her arm through my father’s and pulled him close to her side. Blackwood rolled his head and flexed his shoulder muscles before he began to speak. “Their plan is to burn us out. They’ll attack from all sides, wielding magical fire. They know we have a powerful fae, and that the forest streams and ponds are full thanks to the rain last week, so they’ll try to avoid the wet ground.”

  I nodded, remembering what Mac had told me a few moments before about the strength of Faye’s ability to enchant those she set her sights on. Virtually irresistible, he’d called her. Blackwood paced to the other end of the table. “They’ll have figured out that Isabelle is their primary target, and they’ll know Dr. O’ Neill will be aware of this too. They’ll expect him to keep her close. And we’ll give them what they expect. She’ll stand with him on the steps of the manor.”

  “I don’t see why Chesca has to pretend to be me—why are we putting her at risk?” I gripped the blades’ handles tighter.

  Chesca turned her gaze on me. “Izzy, you need to be strong now. Sometimes running is the bravest thing anyone can do.”

  “Your sister is right.” Mac’s voice was quiet. “You need to be able to run if something goes wrong. Get over the border of the county and the Guild will find you, but you can’t wait, Izzy. If it looks like Gastone is going to beat us, if we can’t eliminate enough of their men, if we can’t get close enough to cut Gastone, if your father can’t break the spell—you need to go. You can’t try to save us. The stakes are too high. What Gastone will do to us is only a taste of what he could do with your sister’s power in his control.”