Loving an Ugly Beast (Fairy Tales & Ever Afters)

by Danielle Monsch

  “From what I’ve heard, no one expects Benton to return.”

  “Oh, he’ll be back.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  She looked him in the eyes and threw down the proverbial gauntlet. “Because he would never willingly leave her. Wherever Nissa is, that’s where Benton will be.”

  “Are you going to push Nissa away from me so she’ll still be available for Benton?” That was a possibility he hadn’t foreseen, and with the way his luck had been lately, it seemed more than possible.

  But she surprised him by shaking her head. “Benton had his chance and didn’t take it. If you have the balls to go after what you want, well, it will be a nice change.”

  Ouch.

  Marie nodded to his drink. “On the house today. Good luck.”

  Chapter Six

  As empty as the tavern was, it would have been very easy for the group of women to sit anywhere except where they eventually settled, which was the table right next to his.

  He had never seen so much hair flipping in his life as Benton, but this was an everyday occurrence for Byron.

  Nissa was supposed to return today, and only the thought of seeing her after missing her yesterday kept him seated around the squealing females.

  The door opened, but hope was dashed as Councilor Hale walked in. Hale walked over to the giggling group of ladies, saying, “Ladies, a pleasure to see you out today. How are you enjoying yourselves?”

  Tara smiled up at the man. “It has been an excellent day. Byron has been entertaining us and keeping us out of trouble.”

  Hale looked over at Byron, and then turned back to the women. From this angle, the sardonic twist of Hale’s lips was evident to Byron. “Well, when a man has no real obligations, he must learn some skill to pass the time.”

  The women twittered. Byron’s hand tightened around his glass, but his smile and tone were easy when he answered Hale. “Nonsense. Spending time with such lovely ladies is nothing as low as passing the time. I would call it more a true calling.”

  The laughter from the women this time was lower, more seductive, and Tara gave him a flirtatious look beneath her eyelashes. With a nod to the women and a last glance at Hale, Benton went to the bar.

  “He’s being an ignorant ass.”

  Nissa’s voice sounded behind him. He was almost getting used to being constantly surprised, but she was a very welcome one. He turned to face her. She was a little paler than usual, but no other visible sign of the upset of two days ago marked her. Her attitude was back to the easy friendliness that marked the first days of his arrival, but minus the undercurrent of nerves that he only now – when she wasn’t displaying them – realized existed. He leaned back and let his elbows rest against the bar, projecting nonchalance to put her at ease. “Who?”

  “Hale.” Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail, which emphasized her sharp, pointed features. “As sad as it sounds, he was once considered the best catch of the village. Now that you’re here, his star has plummeted. He’s not happy about that.”

  “Was he courting any of the women in particular?” Not that he cared about the answer. His only desire was to keep Nissa talking.

  “He wasn’t interested in courting as much as testing out the merchandise. He is very much enjoying his widower-hood.” She leaned closer to him and said in a confidential tone, “In my opinion, he should be a little more concerned about fatherhood. His son is growing a little wild. He needs a mother.”

  Nathaniel, the same boy who frightened Nissa on the path. “Are you having a hard time teaching the boy?”

  She sighed and nodded. “He’s disruptive, the leader of a few other boys he brought together to form a gang of bullies. I tried talking to Hale last year and throughout the summer, but he says it’s nothing more than boys being high-spirited. It makes teaching very stressful.”

  He shouldn’t have just threatened the little bastard when he had him by the scruff. “I’m sorry to hear you are having so much trouble.”

  “What makes it so hard is he was such a sweet boy before his mother died. She kept the worst of his father from him. But with her gone, he’s like every other boy – he wants to be just like his daddy.”

  Byron snorted. “It doesn’t get much worse than that.”

  “Believe me, as much of an ass as Hale is, some fathers are much worse.”

  Her voice was hard and full of experience. This was a rare glimpse of Nissa’s life from before she arrived at the village, something she refused to talk about.

  Then her jaw softened, and she graced him with a small smile. “Thank you for allowing me to vent a little. I love my job, but it’s nice to sometimes be able to complain about the parts that bother me.”

  “Don’t you have anyone else to talk to?”

  “It seems rather petty to complain to Marie when she’s dealing with the various indignities of pregnancy.”

  He leaned closer. She had been receptive to his company so far, so maybe he could push it a little further. “What about your friend from the cabin?”

  She caught the teasing tone and returned it, folding her arms over her chest and leaning closer to him as well. “My friend who hunts criminals for a living? Sure, let me tell him about boys who are bothering me. Maybe I should include a map to their houses and a list of their deepest fears, make it easier to extract his revenge.”

  “The extra step is always appreciated.”

  She smiled in genuine amusement, her eyes shining at the exchange. The smile faded too quickly but softness lingered on her features. “It has been brought to my attention that I might be a bit too defensive in my personal interactions with people.”

  He brought his hand up to his face and affected a look of shock. “You! Say it isn’t so.”

  “Smartass,” she grumbled, but the smile returned. “I would like another friend, and I think I’d like that friend to be you if you’re willing.”

  “I’ll take it.” He held out his hand to her. “Friends?”

  She grabbed it and gave a shake. “Friends.”

  Before he could add anything her gaze flickered to the window that showed the area behind the tavern and the happiness that had shone so brightly slid off her face. She walked to the door and flung it open, with him following close behind.

  Marco was talking to a middle-aged man, a shifty character dressed in dirty fabric and the stench of days without a bath. Before he could stop her, Nissa yelled, “Marco!”

  The boy startled, but the man’s stance and face remained calm and calculating. Nissa stormed up beside Marco, taking the side that kept her farthest from the man. She didn’t acknowledge him in any way, saying, “Marco, I need you to finish your chores in the kitchen. Joseph will be arriving soon to start preparing for the dinner crowd.”

  The boy didn’t look happy, but he left. The man left as well, but not before running his eyes over Nissa and giving the tavern a final, lingering glance.

  Nissa watched until the man was out of sight, her mouth tight and forbidding. “I told him never to come here again,” she said, her voice so low she was more likely talking to herself than to him.

  “What do you mean?” Fury simmered through him and he ground his nails into his palms to keep from showing it. When had this started, and why hadn’t she mentioned this to him before?

  She startled, confirming his earlier thought that she was lost in her own thoughts. She shook her head, downplaying the question. “I don’t want someone like that hanging around Marco and leading him down a bad path.”

  “And when did he start coming around?”

  She shrugged, turning to go into the tavern again. “About two months ago.”

  Two months? She had shrugged off Benton’s warnings and acted as though he was foolish to worry, and this had been going on for two months?

  “Don’t worry,” she continued. “”He’s opportunistic scum. Marco is smart enough to stay away.”

  Helpless, seething anger settled low in his stomach. Why was she
being this stupidly blind? Because it had to do with her ex-student? “Does Joseph know about this man?”

  “I’ve mentioned it to him. He’s keeping an eye out.”

  “On Marco or on the man?”

  She crossed her arms. “Marco has nothing to do with this.”

  He clenched his jaw tight, refusing to say any anything more. It would only lead to an argument, and Byron had no right to be angry.

  Without another word, he turned on his heel and left Nissa.

  ***

  “You are very quiet tonight.” Nissa polished the glass in her hand as she eyed Byron sitting across the bar.

  He wasn’t the only thing quiet. The tavern was empty except for the two of them and Marco, who was sweeping the floor. Joseph was currently at Marie’s side as she gave birth to their first child.

  It had been three weeks since The Incident, as Nissa had taken to calling it in her mind. Byron’s anger had been tangible, and he hadn’t come back to see her for three days, the longest they had been separated since his arrival. When he finally returned, he glared at Marco and gave her a hurt, bewildered look, as though she had betrayed him.

  “Thinking,” said Byron, and for a moment he reminded her of Benton, terse and keeping another secret he wanted to shelter her from.

  Benton. Six weeks since he disappeared, and every day it seemed a little more certain Benton was not coming back. Earlier today she had gone to his cabin, but it was still locked tight.

  Of all people, she never believed Benton would abandon her. She had begun to think maybe he was attacked, but when Joseph had looked around the cabin and the surrounding woods and said there were no signs of foul play, she was both relieved and in one tiny corner of her heart, disappointed. If he wasn’t taken from her by someone else, that meant he had left her of his own will.

  Marie was at long last proved wrong. Benton didn’t love her. If he did, he couldn’t have left, not like he did. Because if he loved her, he would be walking around right now with a hole in his chest, an ache that nothing could calm.

  She eyed Byron again. He stayed with her every night, refusing to let her be in the tavern alone. There was a strength of spirit to him she never would have expected him to possess those first moments she had seen him. He was a good man, strong and dependable, and a whisper of shame flitted over her heart when she recalled those first unkind thoughts.

  The door opened, and four men walked in. They were unwashed and unshaven, but not in the way that told of decent people who had been traveling hard and wished for a night’s rest and refreshment. No, these were men who thought of bathing rarely, who were used to living with filth and rot, who reveled in it. As they glanced around the room, it was avarice and not curiosity that lit their gazes.

  Nissa turned to Byron, but he was looking at Marco with fire in his eyes. And Marco met his gaze with a defiant twist of his lips, a ghost of a smug smile in his countenance.

  Benton’s warnings came back to her, the many times he warned her to watch Marco. Her sweet Marco, such a good boy who always helped her with the other children.

  That Marco was not present. Here was a young man who would take and use, and who had no concern if it was his by right or not.

  The largest of the rowdy group looked over at her and called out, “Mead for all, and bring it now.”

  “Yes sir,” she called, to buy time as much as anything.

  Nissa turned to Byron. He was half out of his seat, an uncomfortable position that suggested he felt the same warning as she did. “You should leave—”

  “I will not leave you.” His voice contained a harsh finality, a strength he’d never shown before. He sat down, but pushed his chair out so that his legs were clear of the table.

  Arguing would be pointless and would only focus the men’s attention on them. Nissa didn’t spare a final glance toward Byron. She hurried behind the bar to fill their order and within moments was in front of the group.

  As she began to place down their drinks, the leader looked up at her and gave a half-leer, showing blackened teeth. “Aren’t you an ugly one?” he asked, voice as even as someone speaking of the weather.

  “That I am,” she agreed. The drinks distributed, Nissa turned to head back but was stopped by a hand that grabbed her wrist.

  The leader stood, bigger than she had thought. Only Benton would have rivaled him for size. “Here now, I didn’t say that you couldn’t entertain us because of that.”

  Tremors raced through her body. His smell was overpowering this close, her gag reflex controlled by sheer dint of will. Don’t show fear, don’t show fear, don’t show fear, don’t show fear, don’t show fear… “I need to stoke the fire if you wish to eat.”

  He laughed, the cruel edges of the sound shredding her hope of escape. “We’ll eat well enough without the fire,” and his words were followed by a leer that scraped over the contours of her body. “No curves except for the fat, but we’ve done without for so long that hole between your legs is all we need.”

  Nissa bolted in hope that the sudden movement would startle the man enough that she could escape his grasp, but his grip was firm. She turned back to face him and with the nails of her free hand clawed the back of the hand that held her. “Get off me! Get off me!” She couldn’t, she couldn’t, she’d rather die and she had to get away and Benton, why aren’t you here?

  Byron ran into the man, his fists hitting the bandit’s torso. The surprise move didn’t lessen the grip on her wrist. The bandit laughed and grabbed Byron’s head in his hand, thrusting him aside with no more effort one would use to push away a child. Sprawled on the ground, Byron couldn’t get up fast enough to escape two of the other bandits from grabbing him, one on each arm, and pulling him up.

  Their laughter was tinged with viciousness. “Look at the brave pretty boy. So nice to rescue the lady, isn’t he?” The third bandit walked up to Byron and punched him in his stomach.

  Byron doubled over, a small ooff of distress escaping him. “No,” she screamed and reached for him, but her efforts were as ineffectual as a snake held fast under the heel of a boot.

  “Are you sweet on him, love? Sorry to see his pretty face in trouble?” Still holding her wrist, the leader moved to Byron. His fist was a slab of meat, thick and unforgiving as he punched Byron in the nose. Blood gushed, the bone cracked, and Benton’s head snapped back with a sickening crunch.

  Marco ran up to them. The sneer was gone now, his eyes and face all round in little “Os” of horrified realization. “You said you weren’t going to hurt her. You said, just the money.”

  The leader didn’t look at the stricken teen. “Leave now, boy, or you’ll suffer right along with this one.” Another punch, this time against Byron’s forehead, and his eyes rolled upward.

  This couldn’t be happening. Not to her. Not to them. “Byron, Byron, please, please.”

  Another of those flesh-peeling laughs came from above her, and the leader said. “Don’t worry about him, girl. If he wants you after we’re done, we’ll give him his turn.”

  The bastard was skimming his fingers down Nissa’s cheek, dirt caked throughout his fingernails and the lines of his hands.

  Byron blinked away the blood in his eyes. Nissa’s head hung down. She was moaning, low moans of despair. “Not again. Please, not again. Not again, I can’t survive this time. Not again.”

  Not again?

  Tears streamed down her cheeks. The leader grinned at her distress, his hand clutching the fabric at her chest, the cloth starting to tear.

  Not again?

  Byron was useless. This piece-of-shit form of couldn’t protect her. It couldn’t withstand a few hits. It couldn’t rip these bastards apart for touching her, for making her cry. He was helpless, as helpless as Nissa.

  But Benton could protect her.

  Not again?

  That meant…

  She had been helpless like this before.

  Benton could kill them all. Benton would ensure her safety. And afte
r he killed these men, Benton would visit the monsters in her past and skin them alive for what they had done to her. “Nissa, look at me!”

  She didn’t acknowledge Byron, her moans the only sign she was still conscious. He had seen this before, soldiers retreating within themselves to escape the hell they were going through. He had to break through before she was lost to him.

  “Nissa, look at me, look at Byron. Nissa! Remember your kids at school, remember teaching Benton to read. Nissa, look at me! Come back to me, Nissa!”

  She was fighting his words, but slowly she was being pulled back to awareness. The leader laughed. “Good, good, I like it better when they fight.”

  Byron ignored him. Now he had to reach Nissa. “Think about school and your kids. Nissa, come back to me.”

  Her eyes raised and locked with his. She was back in her right mind, but it wouldn’t be for long. Fear already shot through her beautiful eyes as her situation pressed upon her, and he spoke before fear took her away again. “Nissa, I’m Benton.”

  Confusion stopped fear’s movement, halting its progress. “What? Byron—”

  “I’m not Byron, I’m Benton. A fairy godmother granted my wish and made me this. I’m Benton, your Benton.”

  Her eyes were clear as they locked on his, and he saw… acceptance. She believed him. She believed him. “Benton?”

  “Enough of this,” the leader interrupted. “Shut him up, let’s get to our fun.”

  The leader grabbed her chin and forced his mouth on hers. Nissa’s head twisted violently as she struggled to get away, and the other bandits watched with laughing interest.

  None of them were paying attention to Benton, the two holding him so loosely their contempt of him obvious.

  Pain ripped through his body, sharp and stabbing, ten times greater than what he had experienced to turn into Byron. His teeth nearly bit through his lower lip as he held back screams.

  After long moments both the transformation and the pain were finished. In a swift movement he leapt to his feet, freeing himself from both of his captors. He grabbed the one on his right and broke his neck, grabbing the dagger from his belt and tossing the body aside before his jailer on the left bothered to look in his direction.