The Secrets of Shadows Page 8

  She didn’t wait for a reply, but merely seated herself. He simply appeared at her side, to take his place at the head of the table. She shook her head. She wasn’t sure she would ever get used to that part of his nature.

  “I’m famished. Aren’t you?” she asked pleasantly, taking a bite out of one of the boiled potatoes on her plate. “Mmm. These are quite exemplary, don’t you agree?”

  Cosette knew she was rambling, but she couldn’t seem to stop the words from coming out of her mouth. When he was in the role of Davien, and not just playing the part of the dark and perverse Duke of Blackburn, he was rather . . . pleasant. But he also radiated a raw sexuality similar to a panther that liked to toy with his prey. With either persona, he could be rather intimidating.

  “Cosette.”

  She paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. She glanced at him before slowly lowering it. “Yes?” she managed.

  “Do you really want to go out tonight?” His voice thrummed around her, through her, in her. “Or would you care to stay in?”

  Cosette tightened her grip on her dinnerware. “I think you know the answer to that.”

  His nostrils flared, his eyes glimmering, as he drawled, “It was an honest observation.”

  She glared at him. “You can keep any further observations to yourself, Blackburn.” She felt a temporary thrill of satisfaction when his eyes darkened, became hooded. She hadn’t called him ‘Your Grace,’ which seemed to be rather taboo where she was concerned. But at the same time, he hadn’t said she couldn’t use his actual title either.

  To her surprise, instead of reprimanding her, he chuckled. It was a deep melodic sound that shot straight to her mid-section. “I find I’m too amused with your antics, dear Cosette, to get upset by your defiance. Just remember that two can play this game, and you would do well to recall that I have infinitely more experience.”

  “Perhaps,” she lifted another bite to her mouth and slowly chewed, before she turned to him with a coy expression. “But who is to say I play by the rules?”

  ~ ~ ~

  The beast inside Davien was content. The banter between him and Cosette made him roll over and purr like a simple house cat. While she tested his patience most of the time, she was a breath of fresh air in his dark existence. She had brought sunshine and warmth into his cold, hollow soul. It was the reason he had relented that afternoon. He was starting to find that he could deny her nothing, even the smallest request.

  If she ever found out how much power she truly held over him . . .

  It would be his downfall.

  Once the meal was over, he considered leaving her on some sort of pretense until it was time to depart for the city, but instead, he did the one thing he detested above all else. He made polite conversation.

  He leaned back in his chair and watched her as she drank from her wine. “How was your afternoon?”

  She glanced at him curiously, and it was obvious he’d surprised her by his general query. In truth, it rather shocked him as well. “I went to the library.” A pause. “To read more of Calmet’s book. I was hoping I might find something to . . . help you.”

  “Help me?” He snorted. “I fear you are a bit late for that, my dear.”

  “I don’t think so,” she disagreed. “If a curse was indeed placed upon you, then there is a good chance it can be lifted.”

  Again, he expressed his doubt. “I have searched this entire world, far and wide, and come up empty-handed. I have read works by scholars and philosophers. I have conversed with intellectuals and scientists. Trust me, I have done everything possible to relieve myself of this bane with no result.” He waved a hand. “I doubt anything involved in your current studies will change that.”

  She shrugged. “There’s no harm in trying, is there?”

  Davien rubbed his lower lip with his index finger as the beast began to stir. “I have to wonder why you are so determined upon this course where you will find naught but false hope.” The beast swished his tail. “Don’t you like me as I am, dear Cosette? I find I’ve learned to adapt to my salacious nature. Rather well, in fact.”

  Instead of rising to the bait, she eyed him curiously, almost innocently. “Don’t you ever want to feel . . . normal again?”

  He tilted his head. “And what exactly do you consider to be . . . normal? Shall I preen about London in hose and buckle shoes as a man of my station ought? Should I attend balls and soirees and visit White’s?” He felt his focus begin to shift, change. “What is so wrong with me now?”

  ~ ~ ~

  Cosette stared at Davien as his eyes began to glow with that unholy light, like the vision of an animal at night. She had seen it before, of course, but this time it was different. He looked poised, ready to pounce, and for the first time since she found out what he was she was afraid.

  “I . . . I didn’t mean . . .” she stammered helplessly.

  “Have words suddenly failed you, Cosette?” His voice was hollow, empty. “You had no problem insulting my nature a moment ago.” He stood, towering over her. “Am I so hideous in this form? Is the beast so terrifying that you wish for me to be other than what I am?”

  Cosette gave a cry and prepared to leave the table, but he had her trapped in her chair, a strong arm on either side of her, before she could even move. “Please,” she whispered.

  The glow in his eyes intensified, and he growled deep in his throat, and she knew that the beast inside of him was fully awake. “I love it when you plead for me.” He leaned forward and ran his nose up the side of her neck, as if he was inhaling her scent. “If only I could make you beg for a different reason.”

  Cosette closed her eyes. She trembled, but the fear she’d felt earlier suddenly mixed with another emotion—something infinitely more dangerous. And still, she couldn’t move, paralyzed from his power. “Davien, don’t do this.”

  “Do what?” His breath caressed her ear.

  She swallowed. “Seduce me.” Cosette couldn’t see his face, but she knew that the shadows around him were growing, shifting, tightening.

  “You would enjoy being my lover,” he coerced, the smooth timbre of his voice surrounding her.

  She had no doubt that he spoke the truth, for already her blood was thrumming through her veins. But she didn’t want to bed this . . . animal, the one that kept her locked here, a prisoner. She wanted the man beneath. “I just want . . . to be your friend.” She felt a tear slip down her cheek, for whatever reason. “Please, Davien. I just want to be . . . your friend.”

  Silence.

  The pressure and the darkness vanished as she felt him move away.

  Cosette coughed as she opened her eyes. She saw Davien standing a few feet away, looking down at his hand in rapt fascination. She wondered what it was that held in him such thrall, but then she saw it: a small, gleaming drop of wetness where her tear had splashed him.

  “Davien . . .”

  “Don’t.” His voice was harsh. “Be in the foyer at midnight if you wish to go into the city.”

  He dissipated right before her eyes.

  ~ ~ ~

  Cosette changed into her serviceable gray dress and threw her threadbare cloak about her shoulders. While she would have liked to wear her new, fur-lined one, this was more appropriate for visiting the dregs of the East End. Dressed in common garb, she had less chance of being singled out and accosted. With Blackburn by her side, she would likely have no trouble at all.

  His abrupt departure earlier weighed heavily on her mind, and she wondered at the cause of it, but she vowed not to bring it up, instead, concentrating all her efforts on trying to find Charlotte.

  She arrived in the foyer just as the clock struck the hour of midnight. Davien appeared at the last chime. He wore the same casual attire from dinner, although he’d thrown a greatcoat about his shoulders
, making him appear more menacing than before. He took in her ensemble with a dark scowl. “I should have burned that.”

  She straightened. “If you had, I should stick out like a sore thumb in Whitechapel.” She opened the door. “Shall we?”

  Cosette could tell that he wanted to argue, but he must have saw reason, for he brushed passed her and climbed into his coach, which was already waiting. Quinn sat in the driver’s seat, as silent and stoic as usual.

  Once Cosette was seated across from Blackburn and they set out, she asked, “Why is Quinn the only servant you retain?”

  “He served my father before me. I know that he is loyal.”

  “Why doesn’t he speak?” she persisted.

  “He does.” Davien grinned. “But only to me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “So it’s some sort of spell you’ve cast on him?”

  He shrugged. “In a fashion.”

  Cosette waited for him to say more, but since she could tell that was all he was willing to offer, she turned her attention out the window.

  “I’m sorry about earlier.”

  She looked back at the duke, but his face was steeped in darkness. Either the candle glow from the passing lamplights were playing tricks within the carriage, or he had shadowed his emotions from her once more. She thought it was likely the latter.

  “The truth is,” he added softly. “You were right.” Cosette didn’t speak, but let him continue. “I think I’ve been this way for so long that I’ve come to accept it. I don’t really remember being any other way. For me, this is normal.” He gave a deep breath that said more than any words truly could. “But when you cried, because of me, because of how I was—” He shook his head. “I realized that I’d only been fooling myself. The beast convinced me that I could never be free.” His voice hardened, took on a new resolve. “But I know the witch that did this to me is still out there. I’m going to find her, and put an end to this nightmare, once and for all.”

  Cosette felt her throat tighten, as she leaned forward and slipped her hand into his. “We will find her. Don’t forget that we’re in this together.”

  The lopsided grin he gave her caused her heart to thump. “That we are, dear Cosette.”

  Chapter 10

  The carriage came to a stop in front of The Lion’s Share. “I thought this would be the best place to resume our search,” Davien told Cosette as he stepped out and held a hand for her to alight.

  She frowned as she took in the faded sign of the tavern where Charlotte had worked. And the last place her friend had been seen. “What’s the point in returning if nothing was uncovered before?”

  “While you have the regular patrons that inhabit this particular establishment, you also have the ones just passing through,” Davien explained. “They are the ones we need to question, for they are more inclined to speak with the right monetary incentive, and because they carry no allegiance.”

  It made a certain amount of sense, so she nodded.

  “Good.” He shot her a grin that made her knees weak.

  Davien led her through the front door where they were instantly greeted with the sound of retching. Combined with some other, rather unsavory smells, it was all Cosette could do not to gag at the stench surrounding them. She did cover her nose with her un-gloved hand. “I can’t believe Charlotte could stomach this night after night.”

  Davien shrugged. “You get used to it after a while.”

  Cosette wasn’t so sure about that, but she followed Davien as he casually took a seat at a corner booth that became empty just before they sat down. She wasn’t sure if the two men left because of the fearsome scowl the duke shot their way, or because they found alternate entertainment in a wench across the bar.

  After they sat down, Blackburn began to scan their surroundings.

  It was all Cosette could do not to tap her fingers on the table in exasperation. She finally lowered her hand from her nose long enough to ask, “Anything yet?”

  He cast her a dry look. “Growing impatient already?”

  She didn’t even try to act coy. “Yes. I don’t particularly care to stay here any longer than necessary.”

  He chuckled, at the same time a buxom maid came over to take their order. She had a considerable gap in her teeth when she smiled at Davien, while completely ignoring Cosette. “How can I help ye, sir?”

  “A pint of ale and two glasses,” he returned with a devilish smirk.

  The maid put her hands on her hips and dared to sidle closer to Blackburn. “Can I interest ye in anythin’ else?”

  Cosette dropped her hands to the table. Was this woman actually propositioning Davien right in front of her? Had she no shame?

  “As a matter of fact . . .” His voice was so smooth and enticing that Cosette couldn’t resist the urge to kick his shin under the table. He didn’t even react, but kept his focus firmly on Cosette’s competition. “Shall we retire to somewhere more . . . private?”

  “I know just the place,” the wench replied saucily.

  Davien pitched his voice. “I shall return shortly, my dear.” He stood and Cosette felt her jaw go slack. But when she would have demanded to know what he was doing, he turned those dark eyes to her. They seemed to convey a secret message. Trust me.

  While she wanted to rant at him for leaving her alone, she reluctantly snapped her mouth closed and remained silent. Nevertheless, Cosette glared at both of them as they walked away, the serving wench blowing a kiss at her as she departed.

  Cosette clenched her fists as she contemplated what she should do until the duke returned. She was alone, in a rather raucous pub, so mingling on her own wasn’t an option. She realized then just what Davien had saved her from when he insisted that she wasn’t to leave Shadowlawn without him. While Cosette had lived in London for the past seven years, she was rather naïve. She had kept to the workhouse and Madame Louvre’s shop for the most part, so she wasn’t as familiar with the more unsavory parts of the city.

  She kept her head down, and pretended a great interest in the wood grain of the scratched and chipped table in front of her, when she suddenly felt a tremor pass through her. It was unsettling, and unlike anything she’d ever experienced before, even with Davien. What she felt around him was desire, even a bit of fear when the beast showed itself, but this—this was terrifying.

  When it happened a second time, Cosette groaned as her hands started shaking uncontrollably. She quickly put them in her lap. She doubted that anyone was paying any attention to her, but all the same, she didn’t wish to make a scene.

  Unfortunately, when the third blast shot through her, nearly doubling her over in pain, she knew she had to leave, to flee somewhere she could be alone.

  But the moment she stood up, an unseen force pitched her forward, upending the table and sending it crashing to the floor.

  Instantly, all eyes in the tavern turned to her.

  Cosette didn’t meet any of them, but ran blindly out the door. Once she was in the chilly, night air, she collapsed against the side of the building. She gulped down several breaths, starting to feel more like herself when everything abruptly went dark.

  ~ ~ ~

  Davien knew something was wrong the moment he returned to the main room. He hoped that Cosette had understood his reasoning for taking the serving wench somewhere to be alone. She was new, and the beast had scented something different about her.

  As usual, his instincts had been correct.

  He just hoped that the sleeping enchantment he placed on her would last long enough for him and Cosette to escape.

  If only he knew where Miss du Bouir had gone.

  He felt a frustrated growl rise up in his chest, as he pierced the occupants in the room, but . . . nothing. Cosette was nowhere to be found.

  That’s when he felt it. A
surge of magic so powerful that it caused the beast to shy away from it. Strangely enough, it seemed almost . . . familiar.

  And that’s when it all clicked into place.

  The locket.

  The one time he’d been close enough to touch it, the night he’d brought her to Shadowlawn, it had nearly singed him. He realized now that the single adornment from her childhood was much more than that. He had to find where it was leading her.

  Davien focused all his energy and concentration to identify that single source.

  It was coming from outside.

  Not a single person stood in his way as he headed for the door. He burst out into the night—to come upon emptiness. He clenched his jaw and waited for another spark to flare, but this time, it was too light to follow. He gave a curse, and then ran into the alley. He transformed into the wolf, knowing the beast’s keen sense of smell was his only hope in locating her. He just prayed he wasn’t too late.

  Instantly, his nostrils flared and tingled. With a howl, he bounded out of the alley and took chase after this phantom.

  Over cobblestones, through countless twists and turns, he wondered how Cosette had managed to cover so much ground when he’d only been away from her a few minutes. Either way, he now knew it had been a mistake to take her with him tonight. He should have broken her heart, her growing thread of trust in him, and firmly refused, no matter how much it might hurt if she turned away from him.

  Now he might have lost her for good.

  If he couldn’t hold Cosette in his arms again, if he couldn’t talk to her, look at her—the thought was unbearable. His heart felt crushed, as if it might actually bleed to death from the pain.

  Davien searched all night. Mile after mile he circled the city until the sun started to break out over the horizon, the smoke from the countless chimneys causing a distinct haze to close in around him. At night, the fog was asleep, dormant, but with the dawn it was suffocating—just like his fear. Each time he felt as though he was growing close to the source of the locket’s power, it switched and moved in another direction, almost as if it was taunting him.