Charm (Black Sheep of Faery Book 3)

by Harley Gordon

  My leg screams with pain and I can't get back to my feet. And I'm down to one knife.

  He transforms fully to the Beast, the belt snapping in pieces.

  Shit.

  It really would have helped if Cinderella could have made guns and bullets. My little knife is useless against him in this form. Where did he get the strength to change back?

  I scoot back from him as he stalks towards me, my leg dragging behind me, still weeping blood, my heart skipping every third beat. I can't take my eyes off him to see how Edmond and Cinderella are doing, but based on the noise they're still fighting. They're both too weak to keep this up much longer.

  I press against the wall, trapped with nowhere else to run. My hands squeeze as tight as they can around my remaining weapon. My wide eyes watch as the Beast pads over to me, shaking with rage. He reaches out and grabs me by the neck, lifting me until I dangle from his hand. He slowly squeezes, cutting off my air. My eyes bulge and my face heats as my lungs fight for oxygen. Panic darkens the edges of my vision and I scrape and scratch at his paw with the nails on my free hand.

  He doesn't even flinch.

  He says something, but I can't hear over the roaring in my ears. I kick out at him, but my feet collide only with air. The table gallops to the rescue and smashes into him. I fall in a heap on the floor while the Beast rakes claws and slams paws into the poor table. It sacrificed itself for me. No. I sacrificed it for me.

  I press a shaky hand to my throat, drinking in the stale air. I have to get up. I have to fight. Tears prick my eyes at the pile of wood that used to be a table. It's good for nothing but firewood now. I reach for what used to be the leg and curl my fingers around it. My magic has already been ripped from it, but it'll still make a useful club.

  The wardrobe shudders and muffled voices call out from the other side. The Beast's attention is distracted by the noise. He turns around and growls, like he's protecting his meal from a new threat.

  My Librarians made it.

  The wardrobe wheels out of the way and Red leaps inside in her wolf form. Her body slams into the Beast and he's back down. She growls in his face and he growls back.

  I use the wall and the table leg to drag myself to my feet, keeping my weight off my injured thigh. "Red. Help the others. He's mine." My voices rasps from my still burning throat.

  Red sinks her teeth into his arm, making him roar, and then jumps off him.

  He leaps up, staring at me oddly. "You claim me." His words are barely audible past his teeth. I long ago gave up reaching any logical part of him. He doesn't have one. He's lost in our story and has never found his way out.

  "Not for what you think." I swing the club at his head.

  He catches it in a paw and rips it from my grip and snaps it in half. I dodge the broken pieces he throws at me.

  The Beast comes at me again, claws aimed for my heart. Ignoring my wounds, I fold myself into a tumble and slash at the back of his knee with my dagger.

  He roars and stumbles, but doesn't go down. Before he can turn around completely, I slam my foot into the back of his other knee. This time he does go down.

  Belts and scarves and the garrote slither across and under him, trussing him up like a fish caught in a net. They tighten and tighten until he panics and changes back to human.

  I chance a glance at the others. They're still standing and still fighting—Red making quick work of August. But Philip has Dantès backed against the wall. The blood loss has weakened him, he doesn't look good.

  Edmond catches my eye and I nod towards the wardrobe. He rallies with a flurry of sword parries and thrusts and with Philip on the defensive, backs him across the room. As soon as Philip is close enough, the wardrobe doors fly open and Philip falls in. I slam the doors on him and he's trapped. He isn't putting anyone to sleep now.

  Cinderella keeps trying to shove Red out of the way. "I've got it, you mongrel."

  Based on the state of August, she's been drawing it out and just beating on him.

  I get it. "Red, let her finish him."

  Red whines, but she backs off.

  My chest rises and falls with short, rapid breaths and my head feels too heavy. "Any time, Cinderella."

  Cinderella doesn't take her eyes off her ex. "I'm getting to it. Give me a minute."

  August is only half conscious and nowhere is the pretty golden prince. Red trots over to stand over the Beast and growl with menace, but he's beaten and curled up on the ground.

  With one last swing of her bat, Cinderella sends August crashing unconscious to the floor.

  Bo, Hatter, and Jackie burst through the door, brandishing guns and blades.

  Chapter 37

  They skid to a halt and gape at the wrecked basement.

  "Nice of you to show up for the cleanup." Where the hell were they?

  Bo looks at me a little shamefaced. "We were searching for Pan."

  "Pretty sure he's long gone. But I look forward to trying to get all the information we need from these three." I cast a glare at our prisoners.

  Bo claps her hands. "We can take turns. It'll be such a wonderful bonding experience."

  Edmond sways and I dart over to him to shove my shoulder under his arm. He leans heavily against me. "It might be a few hours before I'm back to my usual self. I'm embarrassed how hard I had to work to beat that little shit."

  I wrinkle my nose. "It was pretty humiliating. You're the Count of Monte Cristo and you let a couple princes beat you up."

  He hangs his head. "And I had to be rescued."

  So did I. Red's arrival was timely. "We all did."

  "You scared me." He lowers his voice to a whisper.

  My brows lower. "How?"

  "He almost had you and I couldn't repay the favor and help you." He tightens his grip on me, like he's scared something else will come for me and try to take me away.

  "Which is why I came with a plan and backup."

  He grins down at me. "You're brilliant."

  "Come on. Let's get you some orange juice. You're starting to speak nonsense." I tug him towards the door, biting my lip at the flare in my leg.

  He tries to hide the pain he's still in. "I always speak nonsense."

  "No, that's Hatter." I turn to the man in question. "You have this? I want to get Dantès and Cinderella out of here."

  He nods and tosses me a set of keys. "Bo drove me here on your death bike. We'll take care of this. I've already called for prison transport."

  "Wonderful. Thank you. Who's going to call Mary Bennet for me?"

  Silence and head shakes answer my plea.

  "Assholes."

  Bo glares at me. "If you hadn't gone off on your own, I might have taken that job for you. But you deserve it."

  I scoff. "There's no way I'd give you that responsibility. We'd all be fired in five minutes."

  "Like you handle her any better. You have no filter."

  I almost bend in half at the laughter her words cause. "Neither do you."

  Hatter holds his hands up in surrender. "Ladies. Bigger picture."

  I ignore him. "My plan worked. So hah."

  So does Bo. "Real mature. How old are you again?"

  "Older than you, so respect your elders."

  Bo almost knocks Edmond to the ground with the force of her hug. "You're supposed to take me with you when you do crazy things."

  I've learned not to remind her I spent years having to do crazy things without her because she left. I'm not trying to make her feel bad when I say it, it's just the truth. But apparently, it's hurtful to keep reminding her of it. "Next time. I promise."

  "You better. Now get out of here and we'll clean up your mess."

  Cinderella leads the way back upstairs, her head held high. Outside she turns to us. "I'm going to get a cab back to my house. I hope we don't have the displeasure of this experience again."

  I grunt. "Back at you."

  She strides away like she isn't covered in blood and bruises and filth.

  Dan
tès grows heavy against me, and as the adrenaline from the fight fades, I'm not too strong myself. "Do you have enough strength left to ride?"

  "I'll manage."

  I'm not so certain. He's gray with exhaustion and pain. "Try not to fall off or pass out."

  He tosses his head. "I'm the Count of Monte Cristo. I don't fall or faint."

  "Good." The trip home isn't a short one. Maybe we should catch a cab as well. Cinderella is still trying to catch one on the corner of the street.

  Edmond stumbles a bit, his foot catching on a rock. "How romantic. We're riding off into the sunset together."

  "Dantès? The sun set hours ago. It's full dark out here."

  "Then why am I seeing spots of light?" He swoons at my feet, my hands clutching air.

  Chapter 38

  I drop to my knees beside him. "Cinderella, wait."

  She turns back from the cab she flagged down. "What?"

  "We're going to need that cab. Any possibility you know how to drive a motorcycle?"

  She bends down to the window to tell the driver to hold on and jogs over to me. "Of course I know how. Why? Oh." She sees Edmond through the twilight.

  I hand her the keys. "Be careful with her. Or you will buy me a new one."

  She rolls her eyes. "Good luck with that. Come on. I'll help you get him in the cab."

  I take his shoulders and she takes his legs. With grunts and groans, we get him over to the car and pile him in the back. I slide in with my thighs under his head, and Cinderella closes the door.

  She peeks her head in the open window. "He had a little too much to drink."

  The driver shrugs and pulls away after I give him the address to my home. I try not to worry too much over what Cinderella's going to do to my bike. If she wrecks it maybe I can finally have a Ducati.

  My wound no longer bleeds, but it still hurts. I look down at Edmond's face, hoping he's all right, and brush his hair from his face. I'm so glad he's alive. Cinderella too. She'd actually make a pretty decent Librarian. She'll never join, and I'll never ask, but she would.

  I turn to face out the window, watching the city reappear, my heart lifting to see what I wasn't sure I ever would again. It's really over. We won this battle. And somehow, no one died.

  The driver turns onto my street, so I shake Edmond. "Wake up. I don't think I can get you inside myself."

  His eyes flutter and open, sending sharp relief through me. "Belle?"

  "Yes, it's me."

  He frowns. "I fainted, didn't I?"

  I smother a smile. "I'm afraid so. And I let Cinderella take my bike, so you better hope she doesn't get a scratch on it, or you owe me a new one. A Ducati. Blue."

  "Fair enough."

  I grin. Part of me hopes Cinderella messes it up. I've lusted after a Ducati for a long time. "We're almost to my place. Can you sit up?"

  "You're bringing me home with you?" His eyes light up.

  "I don't think you should be by yourself until you're better. And I also have no idea where you're staying. Now, sit up." I sound like a worried mother hen.

  "But I like my current position." He snuggles deeper into my lap.

  "You're clearly feeling better."

  He smiles and with a grimace, pushes himself off me, leaving me chilled.

  I scramble from the cab first, and turn to help him. Once he's on his feet, he's able to stand on his own, if he's shuffling along a bit on the slow side. My body still pulses with a dull pain from my bruises and claw marks. We'll probably both be healed by morning, but it's going to be an uncomfortable night.

  Dantès and I lean on each other as we stumble through my shop and upstairs to my flat.

  "I might be too weak to wash alone. We should shower together for safety." He wiggles his eyebrows at me.

  I snort. "Nice try, Dantès. I'm not about to give you a sponge bath and I certainly don't want one from you."

  "I told you to call me Edmond."

  I open one of my guest room doors. "There's some extra clothes of Hatter's in there you can probably borrow. Edmond."

  His eyes drift closed for a moment and when he opens them they blaze with a fierce light. I gulp and scurry to my own room like a coward, not ready for anything other than to wash this utterly disgusting day off myself.

  Chapter 39

  Dantès isn't in the guest room when I wake up the next morning. It doesn't even look like he stayed here, the only sign of his presence is it's neater than it was last night. A disappointed sigh escapes my lips. I'd been looking forward to seeing him in Hatter's clothing.

  Will he return, or is he already on a plane, heading for the next job now that his business with Philip is finished here and Pan is long gone?

  Cooking noises and scents trickle from the kitchen, Bo and Hatter must have come back here. I assumed they'd return home now the threat is gone. With Dantès in the room they've been staying in, where did they sleep?

  With sizzling bacon wafting through my flat, I follow my nose to the source, a book tucked under my arm. My shoulder catches on the doorjamb with surprise. The sight of Dantès wearing a silver and lavender button up shirt and bright orange trousers makes it easy to ignore the pain. Mirth bubbles up inside me and spills from my mouth.

  Hatter somehow makes his ridiculous clothes work. Dantès doesn't quite have the same skill.

  He looks up at my laughter. "Jerks who laugh at their guests don't get bacon."

  I lean my hip against the counter beside him, after putting my book inside one of the cabinets where it'll be safe. "You wouldn't be so cruel."

  He points a pair of tongs at me. "I might if you don't stop finding humor in my misfortunes."

  "Clashing clothes are hardly misfortunes."

  He gestures at himself. "You can see me, right? What would you call it?"

  I run my eyes up and down his body. The clothes are ridiculous, but they certainly show off his muscles. "A disaster."

  His eyes crinkle as he loses the battle to remain stoic and offended. "How the hell does Hatter pull it off?"

  "I don't have the slightest clue. You might have been better off borrowing something from my closet."

  He plucks the bacon from the skillet and places them on a paper towel lined plate. "Yours aren't quite my style either."

  "Not enough leather?" I steal a slice and shove it into my mouth, wincing at the burn. I grab another, hissing at the heat.

  He shakes his head and hands me a plate. "Exactly. I want people to know how badass I am just by looking at me."

  I flap the bacon at him. "Definitely not getting that vibe right now."

  "I could always finish making your breakfast naked."

  "That might be dangerous considering how much grease the bacon is producing." I raise a brow and eye his midsection.

  He cracks a few eggs into a bowl and after adding a splash of milk and seasonings, gives them a brisk whisk. "I certainly wouldn't want to take the risk."

  "Have big plans for it later?" The third piece of bacon finally doesn't burn. His cooking is almost as good as Bo's. I can make enough dishes to keep myself alive, but it was never a talent of mine.

  "Indeed I do." He pours the eggs into the pan with a hiss. It's ridiculous how attractive I find him in this moment, despite the clothes. It's probably because he's feeding me.

  "So what's next?" I need to change the subject away from flirting and innuendos.

  He adds chopped vegetables and cheese to the eggs. "What do you mean?"

  "Do you have another job lined up?" I avoid his eyes, not wanting him to see the longing on my face. I want him to stay. Or I want to go. I haven't been free in a long time, and I finally feel like I am. Maybe I should have confronted the Beast long ago instead of letting the fear hold me back.

  "No. No jobs." He cuts the omelet in two and slides the halves onto our plates. My eyes widen with false innocence when he frowns down at the lone piece of bacon left on the plate.

  What does it mean he has no jobs? "All right." I take a seat o
n one of the barstools and dig into the omelet.

  He slides onto the stool beside me. "I'm staying here."

  I choke on the piece of his delicious omelet. "What? Why?" Not for me. As much as I want him to stay, I don't want him to do it for me.

  "Pan."

  My fork scrapes my plate from my surprise. "I doubt he's still in France."

  He shrugs. "Perhaps not, but I'm hanging around until he's dealt with. I have a feeling he'll be back now that you've foiled him again."

  "I thought you didn't want to be a part of the FTA?" I'm not sure I want him to either. Not with my new decision.

  "I don't. I'm not drinking the Kool-Aid, though if you want to hire me as a contractor, I wouldn't say no to the money." He nudges me knee with his.

  I snort. "Of course not."

  "When are you handing in your resignation?" The corner of his lips quirk.

  I set my fork down and take a breath before answering. "As soon as Pan is dead or in prison." Dantès is the first person I've told. It didn't feel real until this moment.

  His silverware drops from his hands onto the counter. "What? I was joking."

  I take the last bite on my omelet before trying to explain. "I'm done dealing with the Mary Bennets and the rest of them. I love being a Librarian, but being the Head is not nearly as enjoyable." I want to be out in the field and I'm tired of being fussed at every time I do.

  He smirks. "You decided to listen to me after all."

  I elbow him in the ribs. "Don't flatter yourself. It was my own choice and has nothing to do with you." It's not completely true. He is the one who made me take another look at my life.

  He takes our empty plates over to the sink and rinses them off. "Too bad. I could use a partner."

  I ignore the slight temptation gnawing at me. That's not my path either. I don't know what is yet, but there's something exciting about not knowing. "I have no desire to be a mercenary."

  He turns around from the sink, a dish towel slung over his shoulder. "A shame. We make a good team."

  "You do seem to need an awful lot of rescuing."