The Secrets of Shadows Page 6

  Cosette knew, in that moment, that she couldn’t end his life any more than she could her own. “What happened?” she asked softly.

  He chuckled without humor. “Do you want the short version, or would you like to hear the entire sordid story? The latter may send you to your chamber to lock your door in true fear.”

  “I want to understand.” She swallowed. “I want to know it all.”

  “Then prepare yourself, my dear, for when I am through, you may look at me an entirely different way.”

  ~ ~ ~

  It wasn’t often that Davien allowed himself to revisit the past, but it was the only way Cosette could imagine what he truly was. So he began.

  “I was in Italy in the middle of my Grand Tour. I had just finished my studies at Oxford, and my father was taking me on a journey of the continent. I was in the blush of youth, eager to learn all that life had to offer. It was in Rome that we ran into Sir Francis Dashwood. He was a long-time acquaintance of my father.” Little had Davien known at the time, but that association, that small spark of ignorant interest that he’d shown would cause him to pay with the rest of his life.

  “Dashwood was a frequent world traveler and had been known to attend many large and important galas. He was in Rome that night for the same reason we were—to celebrate the “Young Pretender’s” birthday.” Davien learned later that it was because of Dashwood, on good terms with the Prince, who had managed to pilfer such coveted invitations. “Sir Francis and my father had similar . . . enthusiastic pursuits. They had a plan to resurrect Wharton’s Club in London and bring their debauchery to new heights.” Davien would later find out that Dashwood had other plans. He didn’t care to share the glory that would come with the new club.

  “He was rather convincing, and for a young man out to make his mark on society, eager to take part in the delights of the flesh, he made it all sound so compelling,” Davien went on. “The ball lasted late into the night, with most of the crowd dispersing just before dawn broke the horizon. After I parted ways with my father, I went to my chamber. I remember kicking off my shoes and starting to undress, but my mind was whirling. I kept thinking about all the hot-blooded females that I’d flirted with that night. They wore their fancy silks and priceless jewels and pressed against me with their flirtatious smiles and teasing glances. I kept thinking of their creamy breasts, pushed up on display.”

  Davien noticed Cosette stiffen at his recollection. Unfortunately, it was about to get a lot worse. But she had wanted to hear it all . . .

  “I thought I’d locked the door behind me, but when I heard a click, I turned around to find the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She had long dark hair and wore a provocative, red nightdress that left very little to the imagination. One arm was propped against her gently curved hip as she casually turned the lock on the door with her delicate, painted nails. Her eyes held mine the entire time. With a sultry grin, she began to come closer. I was convinced that she was a whore, a gift from Dashwood to properly introduce me into the world of carnal delights.”

  He remembered the feel of her slender finger as it trailed down his jaw, and the mesmerizing look of those eyes that would haunt his nightmares for years to come.

  “I watched as she grew fangs right in front of me, just before she pinned me to the floor with a strength I never thought she would have possessed. Her dark eyes went completely black, the pupils seeming to block out all else as she chanted something in a foreign language. A pain like no other slashed through me. It was so agonizing that all I could do was whimper in abject misery, until the blackness finally closed in and took hold. When I awoke, it was to find a strange thirst coming from within and a lust that did not even compare to what I’d felt before.”

  Davien kept his eyes on Cosette as he finished the rest of his sordid tale. “I had turned into a ravenous beast with an insatiable hunger, so I went in search of something—anything—to appease it. I roamed the streets until I found a willing whore. I pushed her up against the wall of an alley and ripped the front of her bodice down the middle. I cupped her breasts and ran my thumbs over her pert nipples. I don’t even remember what she looked like, only that I wanted those pink lips surrounding my cock. When she put her hand between us to stroke my raging erection, I pushed her down to her knees. I held on to the back of her head as she performed her ministrations on my swollen manhood. The sucking sounds of her mouth soon drove me over the edge of madness, and I ejaculated over her exposed breasts in greedy spurts—”

  “That’s enough!” Cosette stood and put her hands over her ears. “I don’t want to hear anymore.”

  Davien leaned back in his chair, appearing at ease, but his inner beast was rumbling.

  “What was the point of this?” she demanded hotly. “If your objective was to make me feel sorry for you, then you failed miserably.”

  “Are you having trouble accepting my salacious nature, dear Cosette?” he purred, knowing that it would unnerve her even further.

  Her dark eyes flashed, the color on her cheeks high. “I think you are nothing more than a devious, sadistic bastard who deserves what he has become.”

  Chapter 7

  Cosette had never spoken to anyone the way she’d just talked to Davien. Then again, she had never been so livid before either. The man had a talent for making himself out to be the villain when she had honestly started to feel regret because he had been cursed.

  Now, she couldn’t care less.

  She slammed the book shut. “You can sit here and lament your pathetic existence by yourself.”

  “I do apologize if my tale was too much for your virginal ears.” She picked up the closest thing at hand and threw it at his head. The vase missed him by a decided margin. “Tsk tsk,” he chided. “Throwing things about in such a manner. That’s not very polite of you, Cosette.”

  His voice slithered through her brain.

  “Go to hell,” she snapped hotly.

  His grin was pure evil. “I’m already there, my dear.”

  Cosette didn’t wait to hear anymore. She fled to her chamber, closing and locking the door behind her. She closed her eyes and leaned against the hard wood. She kept picturing the sordid details that he’d told her. They replayed over and over in her mind like a dark, continuous symphony—one she couldn’t escape from.

  Just as she couldn’t escape from him.

  She banged her head against the door in frustration. She supposed there was nothing left to do now, except try and get some sleep, although she had a feeling it would be a long time in coming.

  ~ ~ ~

  Come to me, Cosette . . .

  The voice was soothing, enticing. She wanted to obey.

  She tried to reply, but her voice refused to comply with the command.

  Come to me now . . .

  She rushed toward the voice, but it was starting to dissipate. She wanted to scream, to shout: Don’t go!

  But it was already vanishing into the mist . . .

  “Cosette. Awaken.”

  Instantly, her eyes popped open. The first thing she noticed was that she was drenched in sweat, her chemise clinging to her damp body, leaving little to the imagination. The second—she was outside near the edge of a pond, her feet mere inches away from stepping into the abyss.

  “Where am I?” she whispered to the calm waters before her.

  Davien’s even voice came from her left. “You were sleepwalking.”

  Cosette swallowed hard. It had been seven years since her last episode . . . “The blackouts. They’re back.”

  “It would appear so,” he concurred. “The question is why, and how did they begin?”

  She turned to him then. Those dark eyes were regarding her steadily, without censure or judgment. He was dressed in the same clothes he’d worn in the library, although he’d removed his jack
et—the one with the bloodstains. She wondered if he ever slept. Or if he even needed to. “You’re not the only one who carries secrets from the past.”

  He frowned lightly. “I thought you said you were an orphan.”

  “I am.” She reached up and fidgeted with the chain of her locket, which she never removed. “But that isn’t where my story ends.”

  “Indeed.” A pause. “Shall you confide in me, dear Cosette, even knowing what I am?”

  Cosette was still furious with Davien for baiting her like he had, intentionally going into full detail about his former liaisons while at the same time trying to coerce her to become his mistress. She certainly didn’t trust him, but when she considered the watery grave he’d saved her from, she decided that if anyone could help her solve the riddles surrounding her blackouts, it might be him.

  She gave a brief nod as her only confirmation, and began to head back to the manor.

  “It’s a long walk back.”

  To her surprise, a pair of giant bat wings spread out behind him. He didn’t even give her the chance to refuse his services before he wrapped her in his arms and took flight into the night sky with a large flap. Cosette didn’t even look down at the grounds they passed that surrounded the estate, but stared in wide-eyed amazement at the wings protruding from his back, for that was truly a sight to behold.

  “I might become self-conscious if you keep looking at me like that,” he said dryly.

  Cosette felt her lips twitch. It was hard to believe that this was the same man who had been so vicious and cruel with his words just hours ago. This man—the one carrying her so tenderly—was the one she could find herself eventually falling in love with.

  It made her wonder if his heart wasn’t entirely without redemption.

  They landed with an easy grace on an open balcony, the doors leading into the room beyond flung open to let in the cool, night air. Davien’s wings disappeared as he walked inside. He didn’t say anything as she followed him. She might have spoken herself if she’d had the appropriate words. As it was, knowing that he had brought her directly into the demon’s lair—his bedchamber—rather took her ability to speak.

  “Care for a drink?” he asked, as politely as his title would suggest.

  She managed a single nod.

  He brought over some sort of amber colored liquid, holding out the crystal tumbler to her. She accepted it, careful to not allow their fingers to brush. She took a delicate sip. “It’s sherry.”

  He lifted a brow. “Were you expecting something else?”

  She shrugged. “Brandy, perhaps.”

  “I never cared much for it.”

  Cosette snorted.

  “You find that humorous?” he asked.

  “Actually, I do,” she returned, daring to walk further into the room. “It seems rather ironic that an aswang—” She nearly choked on the word. “—would have an aversion to brandy when he has a taste for animal blood.” As she spoke, she sipped from her drink and inspected the brown and emerald green furnishings—careful to avert her eyes from the large, four-poster in the middle that mirrored the one in her chamber.

  She paused as she spied his dressing table. Sitting on top were implements for shaving and personal grooming. While Davien was still a man—a duke—these things were just so normal compared to what she now knew about him.

  “Brandy is something I eschewed long before I was cursed.”

  Cosette reached out and picked up the straight razor. It was like nothing she’d ever seen before with a gold, inlaid blade and a blond horn casing. “I never did ask how long you’ve been . . . cursed.”

  “Nearly twenty years.” No emotion in his voice, just a detached sort of acceptance.

  “I can’t even imagine how awful that must feel,” she said softly, as she returned his razor to its former resting place. When she turned to face him, his dark eyes were swirling, glowing. For a moment, she imagined that she saw the swish of a long tail behind him, before it vanished. She prayed it had merely been a trick of the light.

  “I didn’t think we were here to discuss my past again,” he purred. “Although if you would like a recounting of events—”

  She held up a hand. She didn’t wish for that side of him to make another appearance. She was just getting used to having a civil conversation. “That’s not necessary, I assure you. I heard quite enough earlier. I would be grateful if you never mentioned it again.”

  A smirk touched his lips, but he remained blessedly silent on the subject.

  Cosette turned her attention to the fire. She allowed her thoughts to pull her miles away, and as she stared into the flames, memories flooded her brain, and she began to speak. “I was found on the doorstep of the Heavenly Heart Catholic Orphanage in Paris when I was an infant. You already know about my locket.” She absently reached up and touched the comforting presence of the chain. “I didn’t start suffering from these strange blackouts until I was seven years old. Because of these . . . spells, I was viewed as some sort of witch. They were always trying to get me to confess to worshipping Satan, but no matter how many times the sisters took the cane to me, I wouldn’t admit to being evil.”

  Cosette hugged herself. “Naturally, I spent most of my time alone, for the rest of the girls looked at me as some sort of . . . anomaly that should be shunned. Either that, or they didn’t speak to me for fear that the nuns would take the whip to them. But that all changed when Arien Clayburn arrived. She was a five-year-old orphan from Ireland, whose parents had recently perished in a diphtheria epidemic.” Cosette’s throat burned with emotion. There wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t think of her. “Arien soon became my best friend. We used to have these late night talks, even though bedtime was strictly enforced.”

  She swallowed heavily. “Unfortunately, not long after her arrival, my blackouts started to become more frequent. I would wake up in different areas of the orphanage, even outside, as far away as the entry gates. Since the punishments didn’t seem to be doing any good, I was sent to . . . Pastor Isaacs.” Cosette shuddered, faltering over his name. The very sound of it still sent terror straight to her heart, even though it had been nearly eight years since she’d last seen him—the day she became of age and left the orphanage and all its terrifying memories behind.

  “Arien knew as well as I did that the head priest was the true demon of the Heavenly Heart. Only two weeks before a thirteen-year-old girl by the name of Amelia had been dismissed after it was discovered she was with child. We all knew who the father was, for there was no one else it could have been, but he’d merely sat back and allowed her to be cast out on her own.” Cosette felt her chest grow tighter, not only for the fate that had likely befallen poor Amelia, but because of her own distress.

  “I’ll never forget the day I was brought to his chamber. The nuns left me alone with him, even though I begged for them to stay. He claimed he was going to perform an exorcism to rid my soul of the dark one. But once they left, he . . . he tried to . . .” Cosette shook her head. “I was lucky enough to get away from him before he was able to properly cleanse me, but that didn’t mean I didn’t pay for that moment of defiance. I was beaten and sent to solitary confinement for three months. When I was allowed to join the others, Arien was gone. I was told she’d fallen ill and had died. My only regret is that I never got to say goodbye.”

  Cosette still felt the overwhelming grief from that day, the hole of Arien’s loss still piercing the middle of her chest. “I couldn’t help her all those years ago, only to wish that she found peace at the . . . last. But I can do something to help Charlotte now, should she need it, for whatever might have happened to her. As far as the blackouts,” she added. “They dissipated somewhat over the years at the orphanage. When I made it to the workhouse I would go months without an attack, suffering only severe headaches. Until tonight, the last
one was almost two years ago.”

  When she was finished, Davien finally spoke. “You don’t know what triggers them?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then as I see it, there’s only one thing we can do until we find out why they occur.” She glanced at him. He’d joined her at the mantle, but she had the feeling his focus had been on her the entire time. “You should stay in here, with me, where I might keep a closer watch on you.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The beast inside of Davien murmured his consent, even though Cosette’s eyes widened perceptively. There was only a small, devious portion of him that had an ulterior motive for inviting her to sleep in his bed. In all honesty, her story had piqued his interest even further. There were more layers to Cosette du Buoir than he’d ever imagined, and he was determined to peel every single one of them away to learn the truth of the woman beneath them all.

  Only then would he be able to rid himself of this obsession with her.

  “I don’t think so.”

  Her adamant refusal caused him to grin. “Come now, Cosette. We know it’s going to happen eventually. Why fight the inevitable conclusion to our association?”

  She crossed her arms. “Is that all you think about?”

  The beast inside smiled coyly. “For the most part.”

  “You’re a despicable bounder,” she spat.

  He barely refrained from rolling his eyes. “I thought we’d already established that. So what will it be? Shall you dare to entertain the demon in his chamber, or return to yours where you might wake up in the bottom of my pond the next time you venture out on one of your late night walks?”