Belle didn’t tear up, but the pressure building behind her eyes couldn’t be ignored. She’d been yelled at before on the job by irrational patients, but Adam’s fury hit her harder than her usual layer of thick skin could fend off with a light joke. She backed away, refusing to let him see her break down. “I’m sorry. How can I fix it?”
“You can leave. Do you think this is what you were hired to do? Meddle in my things and mess up my life? You’re no longer welcome here.”
“Master, no!” Lucien begged from the top of the steps, watching with horror as the scene unfolded.
Belle’s mouth fell open, and the world seemed to go still around her. “I thought I had thirty days. Prince Henry said you would give me thirty days.”
“Henry only hired you because you’ve got a nice ass.”
Belle gaped at him, horrified that such venom could come from his lips. “Why are you doing this? Don’t talk about my body. Prince Henry hired me because I’m qualified!”
“You can’t even follow simple instructions, like ‘stay out of my space.’ Get out!” Adam roared at her. He took a menacing step forward to spook her into action, but when he saw genuine fear twisting the light and trusting eyes he’d grown to adore, guilt slashed across his chest, tightening the knot in his sternum further. She’d never been afraid of him before, but now he could see it plain as day.
Belle didn’t argue, nor did she make a move to pacify his temper. When his hand swept out to motion to the exit while he yelled again, she flinched at the gesture, worried that he meant to hit her. She fled down the stairs, ran to her bedroom and shoved as many of her things in her suitcase as she could find, leaving the many dresses and nice clothes Simone had made for her, and packing up only what she’d brought into the home. Simone tried to get the whole story out of Belle, but the tears were already starting to slide down her cheeks. She didn’t want to cry in this beautiful castle. She wouldn’t let this be a place where tears fell freely. She loved the home she’d been meticulously cleaning, and the staff that filled it with so much life.
When she whirled around, it was Audra in the doorway, sitting on her teacart with an expression of woe tugging at her porcelain features. “Please don’t go,” she begged. “The master doesn’t know what he’s saying. We can help set him straight for you.”
“I can’t stay here another minute. I’m sorry.”
“Please, Belle!”
“He fired me!” she cried, hurt that anyone would assume her incompetent, or talk down to her for something so small. “I’ve never been let go from any job ever. I graduated at the top of my class – the only nurse to come out of the West Village in seven years.”
“You can’t go out in this weather, child. The snow’s really piling up out there.”
“I don’t care. I have a nursing degree, you know,” she said as she zipped up her suitcase. “I was cleaning because I love this castle, and because I cared that he was coughing and sneezing so much from the dust. But I don’t have to put up with his crap.”
Belle ignored Audra and ran down the hallway, barely sliding on her threadbare coat before she threw open the front door, wincing as the icy blast bit at her cheeks. She hadn’t been outside in over a week, and had severely underestimated the cold. There was no turning back now, so she thrust her body into the wind, holding her hand up to shield her face from the snow that was coming down in heavy sheets. Her beaten-up old car was in the garage, which was a fair hike from the house. Her scrubs were thin. Within the first few steps, they were soaked through from the wetness of the snow that seemed mixed with a light smattering of sleet. Her coat was old, thin and had a couple holes in the sleeves.
In the distance, she heard the haunting call of the Lupine. They usually stayed away from people, but the sound of their cries sent a shiver of fear through her that rivaled the shiver of cold she was already quaking from. Still, she soldiered on, determined to run far away from the castle she loved.
13
Fleeing in a Snowstorm
Belle couldn’t feel her fingers when she finally reached her old red sedan. The heat always took at least fifteen minutes to kick in, and she knew she couldn’t wait that long. She wanted to get off Adam’s property, and away from the painful image that was his face twisted with rage.
She dropped the keys four times before she managed to shove the proper one in the ignition. The car coughed to life, groaning to Belle that she hadn’t taken it in yet to get the catalytic converter fixed. It was on her list of bills to pay and things to take care of when more paychecks started rolling in, but those plans were now over. The tears finally broke free and rolled down her cheeks, marring the fun she’d cooked up for herself in the amazing castle.
The roads were icy, and her bald tires skidded off the road twice, but she managed to make it back onto the unsalted asphalt. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened as she turned each corner. What felt like hours covered only a few miles of road as she puttered along, praying she didn’t swerve again.
She chided herself for believing she was making a difference. The fact that she was the only other person in the world who could hear the staff in the castle tugged at her. She knew that as much as she would miss them all, they would miss the opportunity to be heard even more.
A pickup truck with too much bravado barreled past her, swirling up the wind and temporarily blinding her when it kicked up too much snow for her windshield wipers to combat. Belle slowed, but the road was too slippery. She swerved again, only this time, her car didn’t stop until it took a nosedive past the shoulder and dipped over the edge, gaining unwanted speed before it veered off into the snow-covered ditch. Belle screamed when she crashed into a tree, finally able see just enough out the front windshield to make sense of the madness of the misadventure. Her head banged against the steering wheel, knocking her until she saw stars.
It was several minutes before Belle found the wherewithal to straighten her neck, fearing the horrible cracking sound it made. Her lower lip trembled, and she fumbled for her purse. She cursed her low battery and dialed roadside assistance, and then her father, who wasn’t picking up.
Her engine died, giving up its grand fight to the death through thick snow and thin budget. She shivered, not even having much of a chance to relish the warmth from the rickety heat vent.
When her phone rang, and she scrambled to answer it with clumsy fingers. “Papa?” she sobbed. “Papa, I spun off the road and crashed into a tree, and the car isn’t starting. Roadside assistance said it would be hours before they could get to me because I’m all the way out by Adam’s place, and there are so many accidents because of the snow. I’m cold and I can’t feel my fingers. Can you come get me?”
When no response came, she broke down in audible tears. “Papa? Please, hurry! I hit my head on the steering wheel, and it’s just… I’m having a bad day!” She wept for a few seconds before she croaked out a desperate, “Tell me it gets better than this.”
“It gets far better.” It wasn’t her father’s voice that responded, but Adam’s. She hadn’t checked the caller ID, but assumed it was her father returning her frantic call. The usual note of aggression was replaced by worry. “Belle? Where are you? I’ll come get you.”
“Adam? Sorry, I thought it was my papa calling me back. Never mind. I’ll try him again.”
“Can you see any cross streets?”
Belle blinked, but the snow was quickly covering her car. “I have no idea. I slid off the road a few miles from your house on the main road that leads to the freeway. It’s fine, Adam. Roadside assistance is on their way.”
“You just said they were backed up, and wouldn’t be able to get to you for hours!”
“That’s when I thought you were my papa. But you’re you, so I don’t need any help. We don’t know each other anymore. Your issues aren’t mine to deal with, and my problems have never been yours to handle.”
“Stay in the car. I’m on my way.”
“You don’t leave yo
ur home,” she countered stubbornly. “Do you even have a valid driver’s license?”
“Probably. Keep the heat on.”
“My car won’t start!” she fretted, knowing how quickly one could lose digits to frostbite in weather like this. She groaned when her vision started to swim. “My head hurts.”
“Are you okay? Is anything broken?”
“My car is broken.” She touched her forehead to keep the world from spinning. “I hit my head on the thing.”
“I’m coming, alright? Stay on the line and tell me something. Anything. Tell me how mad you are at me. Just don’t fall asleep.”
“I don’t have a concussion,” she argued.
“How would you even know that?”
“Because I’m a nurse. I know all the things.” She let out a high-pitched whine of distress when she realized she couldn’t bend her fingers anymore.
“You veered off the road on the right, correct? I’m looking for you on my right?”
Belle heard the roar of his engine, scolding herself for the relief that flooded through her unbidden. “Sure.” She gazed out the window, only able to make out a few feet on either side of her car.
“Belle, I’m on my way. Five minutes. You can…”
Belle gasped, hoping she was seeing things. It wasn’t Roadside Assistance or Adam, but a wolf who found her in the snow. Only this was no ordinary wolf. Staring at her with glowing yellow eyes standing out in the sheets of white was a member of the Lupine. He howled, alerting the others of his find, and Belle’s heart dropped. “Adam, listen to me. You have to call the police. You can’t come out here. It’s them. It’s the Lupine.”
But Adam didn’t respond. Belle pulled her phone from her ear, panic welling in her throat when she saw that her phone was dead.
14
Hunted
Mere minutes ago, Belle had been cursing her rickety old car, but now she clung to the insides as if they were her steel fortress. The Lupine she’d seen through the snow was drawing closer, stalking with a certainty that sent chills down her spine.
Then the one wolf was joined by a second, and a third. Then even more came through the snow, eyes fixed on their prey. Like the rest of the magical community, Belle had been taught to fear the Lupine from a young age. They were made up of a mix of cursed men and women. Belle shuddered, knowing that Adam was destined to become one of the violent wolfy castouts in less than half a year’s time.
Belle clung to her useless phone, and then began to rapidly flick through different options in her mind if it should come to hand-to-paw combat. She didn’t think her Pulse would do much good in this situation, since pulsing discernment into the wolves would involve getting near enough for them to bite her.
A flash of hope raced through her mind when she remembered that she’d bought a can of pepper spray that she kept in her purse. She’d purchased it after Sheriff Aston had taken her away for the weekend. She never considered she’d have to use it on oversized wolves. Her fingers were stiff as she fumbled in her suitcase for her purse, praying the can wasn’t frozen.
Belle pursed her lips to hold in a scream when the first wolf launched his body into the window. Another climbed atop the dented hood and began butting his head against her windshield. Belle groaned at the long fissure, courtesy of the car’s crash into the tree. It bespoke of forthcoming doom, and Belle prayed the windshield would hold. Her fingers scrambled against the crack, frantically adding resistance.
More Lupine the size of mid-grown bears joined in their quest to either bust out her window by force, or tip the car over. Belle bit back a scream each time the glass rattled, clutching the pepper spray in her fist and searching the car for anything else that could be used as a weapon. The snow scraper wasn’t as handy as a baseball bat, but Belle refused to go down begging for her life. She would fight for each last breath, and they would get damaged enough in the fray to regret their choice to single her out.
Belle’s eyebrows pulled together as she clung to the wheel to keep her steady as the car rocked. Why were they targeting her? She was no one important in the magical community. Sure, she was one of the few with a degree in the West Village, which was largely illiterate, but that was no reason to illicit an attack.
“Why?” she demanded without a hint of despair. She refused to beg for her life, but she would ask for answers.
No matter what they wanted to say, she wouldn’t be able to understand them anyway.
That’s okay, she thought. I just want them to think it through. Think before killing. If it doesn’t save me, then maybe it’ll get their conscience going, and the next person they go after will be spared.
Belle gripped the snow scraper with trembling and numbing fingers, adrenaline pumping in her veins as the wolves on her hood bashed their thick bodies into the glass. Her head spun as she tried to hold onto lucidity, fighting through her head injury and the cold in her bones to stay in the moment. She prayed her father knew how much she loved him, and that he would remember to take care of himself after she was gone. Her chin trembled when she thought of how quickly he might deteriorate without her.
Each slamming body against her car rocked the metal frame, which oddly erased her fear that much more. It was inevitable now, and she wouldn’t meet her end in tears. She wiped off her icy cheeks and steeled herself against any further woe-is-me sentiments.
The next thud spread the crack on her windshield to the very edge, and she knew she was almost out of time. She made eye contact with the creature on the hood, her mouth in a tight line to let him know that she wasn’t about to cower.
The wolf on her hood was gray with patches of black throughout his snowy fur. He had several scars marring his maw, no doubt from throwing himself into unnecessary fights like this one. He snarled at her, crouched down with his hindquarters raised, and geared up for the final push. Belle knew she should shield her eyes from the possibility of shattered glass, but she couldn’t look away. They could take her life, but she wouldn’t forfeit her grit to the beasts.
The wolf slammed his body into her windshield one final time, and finally crashed through, his neck bleeding as his jaws snapped. His back legs were still on the hood as his body thrashed and fought to make the hole bigger.
Belle couldn’t help the scream that erupted from her as she cracked the wolf across the face over and over again with her snow scraper, and then used the sharp end to jab at the monster’s eyes. Soon the wolf’s cries were joining hers, floating out into the air in hopes the snow would carry the sound away.
Suddenly a loud bang shot through the snow, drowning her cry of distress. The wolf yelped in agony, and then seconds later, went limp.
“Belle, hold tight! I’m coming!” Adam called to her through the blizzard.
She couldn’t see him, only the wolf that was now dead, slumped halfway through her windshield. “Adam, run!” she warned, worried when the wolves on the sides of her car were no longer focused on rocking her vehicle.
Another shot blasted through the snow, and another. Belle was frantic, worried that he would get hurt coming to rescue her. She knew she couldn’t have that on her conscience. Despite the fact that she was wearing thin scrubs under her worn jacket and didn’t have proper snow boots on, she flung herself out of the car the moment she was able to kick herself free from the jarred steely frame that had bent from the crash. Belle ambled through the two-foot deep snow, calling out to Adam so he didn’t shoot her in all the confusion.
The wolves were moving toward his tall figure, and though she couldn’t make out the details of his features, she could see the gun in his grip that aimed and took fire again and again, dropping the Lupine that had haunted his nights for months.
Adam kept firing until the bullets ran out. Then the wolves took their opportunity and charged him, not bothering to strike for a kill, but sinking their sharp teeth into his skin just to hear him howl. Adam’s roar thrust Belle forward through the snow until she was able to crack one of the four remaining wol
ves over the head with her snow scraper. It was plastic and not all that heavy, but the sharp end used for breaking off ice from a windshield cut one of the wolves on the back of the skull, drawing blood that brought Belle a small burst of satisfaction.
“Run, Belle!” Adam growled.
But Belle knew there was no way he could make it to safety like this. His thigh was badly bleeding, and the wolves were taking as many bites from his arms as they could. It was clear they didn’t want to kill him, but punish him and remind him that they owned his future, and he certainly wouldn’t be anywhere near the ranks of the alpha in their tribe.
That was when she heard him. Though she had only the basic knowledge of wolves and Lupine culture, it was rumored that when you heard the howl of the alpha, you knew it. The baritone bark was elongated, so it sounded more like a foghorn than a call from an actual animal.
The wolves all turned their heads in the direction of the call, some of them lowering their haunches to submit to the voice, though Belle still couldn’t see the head wolf through the thick curtains of snow.
The low-toned call of the alpha shook Belle’s trembling bones with a power she didn’t understand, and instinctively feared. The wolves looked at each other, as if deciding via pack-speak whether they should continue their assault on Adam, or go to the alpha. When a few turned back to Adam, Belle knew it was all about to go south.
Belle took her window of opportunity and stumbled forward, unleashing her pepper spray on the wolves, aiming downward so she didn’t blast Adam in the face. Their growls quickly turned to whimpers of agony as they fell away – all but one, who rammed into her, knocking the can from her hand as she fell backwards in the snow.
Beauty's Cursed Beast Page 10
