The Secrets of Shadows

by Waite, Tabetha

  Cosette sighed, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “This is a disaster.”

  “Only if you allow it to be so,” Davien said softly. “The way I see it, it may just take longer to remove that necklace.”

  She glared at him. “I’m glad you’re taking this so well. Have you forgotten that I have been instructed to kill you, not only once, but twice?”

  He shrugged.

  She crossed her arms and turned her attention to the darkness outside the window. The stress of the evening, combined with the ecstasy that had transpired between her and Davien, finally ebbed away to be replaced by a weariness that she couldn’t fight.

  But in the midst of sleep, a different sort of companion appeared . . .

  ~ ~ ~

  Davien saw the change come over Cosette as if a curtain had been drawn. Her eyes turned completely white, as before, and her back stiffened. Cosette didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. He heard the voice in his mind.

  Stay away from her.

  It was a warning that would have caused a chill to travel up his spine, but the beast wasn’t so ruffled. It bristled, gnashing his teeth at the threat.

  Davien let it reply. She is ours.

  No, the voice returned sharply. She is mine.

  He tried another tactic. Why don’t you reveal yourself? Perhaps we can come to an understanding that will benefit us both.

  A coarse laugh followed his statement, like the hissing gurgle of a snake. She is not up for negotiation. I will never let her go.

  Davien knew his eyes were glowing brighter than they ever had. Neither will I.

  Then let the battle commence.

  Cosette coughed, as if the voice had taken over, not only her mind but her entire body as well. It was a reminder of what Davien could lose should he fail to defeat this . . . entity.

  “Did something happen?” she wheezed.

  “Only a brief conversation,” Davien replied evenly.

  “Is that all?” she asked, her face white, drained of color. “It . . . felt like so much more than that.”

  “We disagreed.”

  This got her attention. “You heard it?”

  “I did,” he admitted.

  “What did it sound like to you?”

  Evil. Although he said carefully, “I can’t explain it.”

  She narrowed her eyes on him, as if trying to decide if he was telling the truth or not. “Have you ever heard it before and just didn’t tell me?”

  “No.” It was the truth.

  Cosette leaned her head back against the seat. “What are we going to do?” she whispered.

  His answer was simple, precise, and although the emotions tumbling within him were restless, he kept his outward calm. “We return to Shadowlawn.”

  Chapter 14

  When Cosette asked Davien if they would be returning to the hotel to collect their things, he merely assured her that it was already taken care of. She nearly rolled her eyes at his confident response, but then, she knew things also tended to just ‘happen’ with him.

  “There is a ship waiting at Calais to take us across the Channel at dawn.”

  Again, she wasn’t surprised as Davien had a talent in making sure things went his way.

  Cosette snorted. “It’s hard to believe that we arrived this morning, only to be exiled on the same day.”

  She caught a glimpse of his grin across the expanse of the carriage. “We have a gift, my dear.”

  “Evidently,” she murmured.

  “You should try and get some rest. We have a long journey ahead.”

  Cosette nodded, although after the voice had returned to speak to her, she was reluctant to entertain another visit.

  The sharp report of a pistol suddenly pierced the air.

  Cosette cried out and instinctively covered her head with her arms as the wood framing the coach door splintered. Davien cursed as their driver returned fire, but God only knew how many marauders might be found outside that window. He could easily be overtaken. Could this day get any worse?

  That’s when the lone howl of a wolf sounded from inside the carriage. Cosette slowly lifted her head to behold a monstrous black wolf crouched down in the very place that Davien had been sitting. It was the same creature that she’d beheld in that alley in London, the one that had dispatched her assailant. It had the same long fangs and glowing, yellow eyes that she remembered. She knew it would strike terror into the heart of anyone who saw it, but at the moment she only felt a certain numb acceptance, because she now knew who was behind the façade.

  The animal turned to her and conveyed a silent message. Stay in the carriage no matter what may occur. You won’t want to see the carnage that I leave in my wake.

  With that, it bounded out of the carriage, even though it was still moving. As Cosette heard screams and the crunch of bones, she covered her ears with her hands.

  ~ ~ ~

  It hadn’t taken more than a few minutes, but when the silence descended, Cosette was reluctant to even breathe. She certainly couldn’t move, even if she’d wanted to. Her legs would never be able to support her.

  The coach had finally come to a stop, so she waited for the duke to reappear.

  She waited. And waited.

  She finally dared to call out his name. “Davien?” It was little more than a croaked whisper, so she tried again, this time with better results. “Davien?”

  Nothing.

  “Davien!” she shouted.

  Nothing.

  Cosette shoved open the door of the carriage. While she was reluctant to see what might greet her on the other side, she couldn’t sit there any longer. She had to know if Davien was alive.

  Her slipper touched the ground, and she heard the unmistakable sound of wetness. She paused. Praying that it was only a puddle that she’d encountered, she glanced down and felt her stomach heave.

  Blood.

  She dared her gaze to travel past the edge of her stained shoes, but the gruesome sight only continued. All down the lane, there trickled rivers of bright red blood, along with more than half a dozen broken bodies. She quickly turned away from the sight of those twisted necks, some with their throats completely ripped out, but she knew it would still haunt her for years to come.

  “Davien?” This time his name came out on a sob.

  Cosette covered her mouth with one hand as she picked her way through the worst of the carnage. Tears of anguish and panic began to fall down her cheeks. She was starting to fear the worst.

  That’s when she heard it—the light groan of a man in pain.

  She instantly went toward the sound, slipping and sliding on the red, muddy ground beneath her.

  There, in front of the carriage, lying next to their dead coachman was Davien. He was in human form once again, in the fancy clothes that he’d worn to the theatre, the same as she. He was covered in blood, but she knew that most of it wasn’t his.

  However, the large gash in his right side that was oozing between his fingers definitely was.

  “Oh, my God.” Cosette forgot about everything else as she knelt down beside Davien. “You’ve been shot.”

  Those dark eyes stared at her. “I thought . . . I told you . . . to wait in . . . the carriage.”

  “Yes, well, I suppose I never was very good at doing what I was told. I thought you might have figured that out by now.” She stood up and ripped a large, clean strip of linen from her petticoat. She balled it up and pressed it against his wound, gaining a grimace from him. “You’re losing too much blood. I should go for help. You need a physician.”

  He shook his head. “This was a . . . premeditated attack. There will be . . . others to finish the task . . . when they don’t . . . return.”

  She was afraid to ask,
but she had to know. “Do you think it was the king?”

  He shook his head. “No. This was . . . a warning from . . . another source.”

  Cosette stilled. “You think ‘the voice’ is actually controlling other people in order to do what I . . . refused to do?”

  His gaze was steady. “I’m sure of it.”

  She swallowed heavily, and then glanced around, as if there might already be another threat visible in the distance. “Do you know where we are?”

  “Just outside of . . . Thiers.”

  She clutched her forehead. “We’re just past the city. We’re not even close to Calais. We’re going to miss our ship.”

  “I’m certainly not in any shape to . . . fly us home.”

  Cosette would have punched him for that remark if she wasn’t so worried. As it was, she considered their options, however slim. She knew that they had to get off of the main road, but not so far that it would drain the rest of his strength and weaken him even more. Then she had to figure out how she was going to remove that bullet before infection set in. Either way, they had to move.

  “Do you think you can stand?” she asked.

  “I’m not an invalid,” he muttered, as he struggled to a sitting position. He finally made it to his feet, but only after sweat had broke out along his forehead. Already his breathing was labored and he hadn’t taken a single step. Cosette knew this didn’t bode well, but she wasn’t about to leave him behind.

  “You can lean on me if you need to,” she said, standing on his opposite side.

  “You’ll use any excuse to touch me, won’t you?” His dark eyes twinkled with humor, and the pain he was trying so hard to conceal. “But I can’t say I mind all that much.”

  “Just be quiet and walk,” she snapped, although her words weren’t as harsh as they might have been.

  The smile he offered was more of a grimace as he threw an arm around her shoulders and they began to make their way across the grass-covered field beyond.

  ~ ~ ~

  “I think that’s a cottage up ahead,” Cosette panted. Dawn had settled over the land about an hour earlier and her eagerness to get somewhere out of sight was foremost on her mind, along with giving Davien some time to rest. She just prayed that he would wake up when his eyes finally closed.

  It was a morbid thought to be sure, but even though he did his best to act unaffected, she could tell that the strain of his wound and the blood loss were steadily drawing his strength. Not only that, but the longer that bullet remained lodged in his side, the better his chances that infection would set in.

  Blackburn’s dark eyes accessed the area around them. “It looks like a deserted hunting cabin. Let’s hope that’s the case.”

  Cosette could have wept in relief. Her shoulders and back ached from carrying Davien’s weight, although she would have never complained. She was just glad that he finally decided that this was a safe enough place that they might stop and rest awhile. They’d passed a cave, tucked out of sight some time ago, but he didn’t trust the looks of it, so they’d moved on.

  The moment Cosette shoved open the door of the cottage, she gave a yelp when several unknown varmints went scurrying away to parts unknown. At least, she hoped that was the case and she wouldn’t have to worry that they would make another appearance.

  It was obvious that the nearly dilapidated hovel was in desperate need of repair. There were sections of the roof where she could see daylight, and any furniture that might have remained was broken; the leftover pieces of a table and chairs in the corner were good for nothing but firewood now. It would have been a blessing—if she knew for certain that the chimney was even free of debris, which was doubtful.

  In this state, it wasn’t fit for an animal—let alone a man in need of medical attention.

  But just when Cosette was about to suggest that they keep moving, Davien snapped his fingers and suddenly, the entire place was free of dirt and debris. The roof was repaired and a cheery fire burned in the grate. Even the table and chairs were repaired.

  He dropped into one of the chairs, clutching his side as he did so.

  “That’s why you don’t have a need for servants at Shadowlawn,” she murmured.

  “Indeed.”

  Cosette shook her head and set about searching the small area to try and find anything that she might be able to use to remove the bullet from his side. She returned empty-handed, only to witness another marvelous sight. Davien was gone, but the black crow was in his place. He had the same patch of blood on his raven-colored feathers, but with his beak, it burrowed into the area and eventually withdrew a tiny, silver ball, that it spat out onto the surface of the table.

  It cocked its head, those beady bird eyes staring at her. And then she heard his voice in her head. I thought it might be easier to dress the wound in this form.

  Cosette didn’t say anything. She simply tore off another strip of her petticoat and gently dressed the bird’s midsection. It observed her the entire time, but when she finally tied a neat knot to hold it in place, it whispered in her mind.

  You should get some sleep.

  “But who’s going to stand watch if something happens?” she asked.

  For answer, the bird merely gave a caw and flew out the window.

  She stared after it in stupefaction. “I suppose that’s my answer.” She went on to grumble something about an ‘ungrateful man-bird’ before she removed her soiled gown. She would have given anything to not have to don the same garment again, but since she had no other choice, she laid it over the back of the chair. She kicked off her shoes and undid her panniers and tossed them to the side. She removed what was left of her petticoat, although she rolled it up into a ball to use as a makeshift pillow.

  Clad in her shift, stays, and stockings, Cosette curled up near the fire. She didn’t know how she would ever go to sleep, her mind was racing so, but it wasn’t long before exhaustion took over.

  ~ ~ ~

  Cosette woke up with a cramp in her leg, only to find that her arm had also fallen asleep from lying on the hard wood floor. She tried to rub out the sensation of pins and needles, the blood trying to flow back into her limb, when she heard the sound of the crow.

  Afraid that it was a warning of approaching danger, she quickly ran outside—to come face to face in broad daylight with a boy of about ten years of age. They both stopped and regarded the other, waiting to see if there was a potential threat. He was the first to recover as he took a bite of his half-eaten apple. The sound of that crunch had Cosette’s mouth watering. She’d ignored most of her supper the night before, and she found she was suddenly famished.

  “What ye be doing in my uncle’s cabin?” the boy asked.

  Since she couldn’t very well tell him the truth, she decided on a small, white lie. “Je eu perdu.” Claiming that she was lost sounded much better than being pursued.

  He took another bite of the red fruit and her stomach let out a growl. “Are ye hungry?”

  He reached into his knapsack and pulled out another delicious apple. He tossed it to her. She caught it in mid-air and took a hearty bite. Juice trailed down her chin and she wiped it away with her hand. “Mercie, monsieur.”

  “So what’s your story?” he asked.

  “Mon recit?” she echoed.

  “Yea.” He shrugged. “What are ye doing in—?”

  A rustling in the nearby bushes caught his attention. Cosette held her breath praying that if it was Davien he hadn’t transformed into the wolf. She didn’t want the boy to be scared out of his wits. But what appeared was something completely different.

  “Is that your cat?” the boy asked, as the feline sauntered closer.

  “Uh . . .” Cosette frowned, although her gaze didn’t waver from the animal. She watched as it curled around the boy’s legs, purrin
g. She tried to ask Davien if he was getting ready to play some nasty trick, but there was no reply. Obviously he was the only one who was capable of conveying silent messages through the mind.

  As she feared, the cat suddenly reached out and hissed, attacking the boy with his claws. “Hey, now!” the lad shouted, but the fur of anger at his feet was relentless. It wasn’t until the cat finally breeched the boys trousers did he run off.

  Cosette watched him go with a sigh. When she turned back around, Davien had his arms crossed, leaning against a tree, once again the arrogant, human male. “Was that necessary?”

  He lifted a dark brow. “He might have been a lad, but he is still a threat.” He pushed off the tree and strode past her.

  “I see that your pleasant demeanor has returned.”

  He didn’t reply.

  “How is your wound?” she asked.

  “Healing.” Clipped. Cold.

  “Shouldn’t I take a look—?”

  “I said it’s fine. My wounds repair quickly.”

  Ice slithered through her veins. “How many times have you been injured?”

  “Enough.”

  Davien tossed her gown, petticoat, and panniers to her, and then turned the cabin back into the disorganized shape it had been in when they’d arrived—dirt, debris and all. Thankfully, there were no woodland creatures present. “Get dressed,” he ordered.

  She stared at him. “Have I done something to upset you?”

  He finally turned to her with a fierce expression. “No, but after what you did, I think I would be more concerned about leaving France in one piece. As it is, it’s going to be a miracle to get you back on English soil.”

  Chapter 15

  Cosette instantly stilled. “What are you talking about? I was in this cabin the entire time, sleeping—” Abruptly, she broke off, clutching her pile of clothes to her chest. “It was another blackout, wasn’t it?”