The Secrets of Shadows

by Waite, Tabetha

  Until tonight.

  He’d left Dover Castle with the firm idea that he would take care of his needs himself, or else let the beast out to hunt, but when he heard Cosette’s dark thoughts, as clearly as if she was speaking directly to him, he knew he could contain his desire no longer. He absorbed her sadness, her loneliness, as surely as if it was his own, and that inner turmoil had torn his heart to shreds. In that instant, he knew he had to show her that she wasn’t alone, that someone did care.

  He laid her down on her bed, drinking in the sight of her laid bare before him, as he stripped off his clothes. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, her breasts quivering. He continued past the concave of her stomach, the flare of her hips, resting momentarily on the curls at her center, before moving down a pair of creamy legs, the last of which he hoped to be wound about his waist very soon.

  The moment his eager cock was revealed, jutting proudly from his body, he looked at Cosette to find her licking her lips in anticipation. He nearly groaned aloud, remembering the last time that delicious mouth had been near his member. No maidenly nervousness here.

  Even so, he had every intention of being patient, to make sure that her first time was a pleasurable experience. He recalled what she’d told him about the priest from the orphanage. He wanted to erase all those memories from her mind and replace them with something genuine, something that contained . . . light, because that’s what she was-his light in the darkness.

  The beast moved, shifting into position, but it didn’t consume him.

  He covered her body with his.

  ~ ~ ~

  Cosette saw the swirling night behind Davien’s eyes. She knew the beast was there, but he wasn’t going to pounce. Instead, it was as if he was watching from afar, granting them this moment together.

  The weight of Davien’s body on hers was exciting. His hair-roughened skin against her smooth skin caused a delicious friction. His chest flattened her breasts but they didn’t hurt; they only ached with the desire for more. Always more from him.

  When he pulled back enough for his tongue to find her nipple, Cosette arched upward and ran her hands up and down the crisp dark hairs on his chest. The sensation of his mouth upon her was so intense that she felt as if he were licking at other parts of her body. She suddenly wanted that above all else.

  “As my lady commands,” Davien whispered in her ear, and for a moment she forgot that he could read her thoughts.

  It wasn’t until he spread her legs and gave her what she wanted did she remember why she craved this. Craved him. In minutes she was splintering apart, fragments of her soul soaring to the heavens, the ecstasy from her orgasm piercing her with a shuddering quake that traveled all through her limbs. It was exquisite. It was all she ever wanted or needed. In this moment, Davien was her world.

  When she felt the head of his cock nudging her opening, she let her legs fall even further apart to give him greater access. As he began to slide inside, she felt her lower regions stretching to accommodate the intrusion. Her entire body tensed, not in fear, but in anticipation of the moment they finally became as one.

  Seconds passed, as he slowly moved—more, more, further, deeper—until, with a single thrust, he buried himself completely. Cosette gasped as her barrier was breeched, but the sensation of having Davien inside of her at long last was more breathtaking than any discomfort.

  “You’re mine now, Cosette,” he growled.

  She closed her eyes in surrender, for they were the sweetest words she’d ever heard.

  He began a rhythm, slowly at first, but one that soon overtook them both. With every lunge and retreat, Cosette felt something building inside of her, something even more potent and forceful than anything she’d ever experienced before. She felt the very foundation of the earth crumbling beneath them, the walls cracking around them.

  She could feel the essence of the locket flowing into her, surrounding her, absorbing into her blood.

  She opened her eyes to find a red film covering her vision. It was almost as though she was looking outside at a raging fire, the flames silhouetted against the pane and casting a radiant gleam on Davien’s face. His eyes had taken on that unnatural glow of the aswang, but she wasn’t afraid. Her hips bucked to meet his every advance.

  She stared right into those eyes when the moment of bliss finally struck her.

  She erupted, clawing at Davien’s back, riding out the pleasure, taking it all until there was nothing left to give. With a shout of release, he poured himself into her, and she took it greedily.

  After that, there was nothing except the sound of their sated, panting breaths.

  Davien rolled off of Cosette, although he gathered her within the circle of his arms. He didn’t speak. She didn’t speak. Words weren’t necessary. Everything that needed to be portrayed had been told by their actions.

  Cosette had returned to normal, the earlier haze having diminished, along with Davien’s inner beast. Right now they were simply a man and a woman who had shared an incredible experience. She was still drifting in the aftermath.

  Blackburn touched the corner of her mouth. “I assume this smile means that I wasn’t too rough?”

  That smile grew. “Not at all.” She glanced at his broad chest, lightly covered with crisp, dark hairs. She looked for his bullet wound from their attack in France, but found only a puckered scar in its place. He certainly hadn’t lied to her about healing quickly.

  “Good.” He lightly touched his lips to hers.

  It wasn’t until he turned to get up that Cosette gasped. “Your back.”

  “What?” He glanced at her in confusion.

  She swallowed, although she gestured to the looking glass on her dressing table.

  Still naked, he walked over to see what had her so concerned. He paused, and she could only imagine that he was trying to figure out a way to contain his horror. Several welts crisscrossed his flesh in long, red streaks, as if he’d been beaten with a whip.

  Or clawed.

  Cosette covered her mouth with her hand, for there was surely no other explanation. That day at the cabin, after she’d gone out and committed such atrocities, Davien had told her that she was different, that the locket was growing more powerful. She’d almost scoffed at the idea, but now that the truth was staring her in the face, she had to admit the truth. “I don’t think your beast is the one we have to worry about.”

  Chapter 17

  Davien didn’t want to alarm Cosette, but he had the feeling she might be right. The question that begged to be answered was—exactly what sort of beast were they dealing with?

  So far he hadn’t noticed anything that might indicate she was an aswang. An unnatural female had cursed him nearly twenty years ago, while the key to Cosette’s ‘affliction’ was that damned locket. She was blighted with something infinitely different. He knew the power connected to it was getting stronger, as it was daring to breech the walls of Cosette’s consciousness, and not just the hours when she slept.

  Dangerous wasn’t even the right word he would use if that power kept growing.

  Catastrophic was more apt.

  Now, more than ever, he knew that they had to find a way to break the curse—for both of their sakes. Cosette was right. They couldn’t give up.

  But where else could he look that he hadn’t already?

  It would take some thought, but for now, he needed to reassure Cosette that he was fine. Those scratches looked worse than they felt, but she looked as if she might cast up her accounts at any moment.

  “You’re going to have to start tying me up,” she whispered.

  “While that is not without its merits,” he returned dryly, “I believe we have a completely different inclination in mind.”

  As he hoped, she blinked and then rolled her eyes. “Can’t you be serious? I
could have terribly injured you.”

  He walked over to her and took her hands. Lifting that gorgeous body to her feet. “I would, if only I wasn’t so tempted.” He brushed her hair away from her face.

  She looked down at the floor. “I shouldn’t think you’d want anything else to do with me.”

  Davien felt the shadows around him expand. “You can claw me, bite me, and draw blood. It won’t change how I feel about you.” He set a finger under her chin and lifted it, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I told you that you’re mine now, Cosette, and I meant it.”

  “But—”

  He cut her off. “You’re mine,” he said firmly. He tossed her shift at her. “Let’s go have a drink. I know we’ve both earned it after the past few days.”

  He gathered his things and headed downstairs.

  ~ ~ ~

  Cosette joined Davien in the library a few moments later. Not only had she put on her shift, but also a simple, light blue dress. She felt she needed the extra reinforcements for the conversation that was about to take place.

  The duke had changed as well, donning a pair of full-length black trousers and a black shirt. The latter was left undone, the section of his upper chest revealed to show off those crisp, black hairs that she’d enjoyed running her fingers through earlier. She resisted the urge to do so now, although she accepted the glass that he pressed into her hand. He took a seat across from her at the small table.

  She took a sip from the dark red wine, the sweetness exploding on her tongue. “Mmm. What is this?”

  “Port,” he replied cordially.

  Cosette knew this was normally a drink reserved for gentleman, and now she understood why. It was rather good.

  They fell silent, each nursing their respective drinks. Finally Draven finished his off in one large gulp before setting the empty glass aside. “I don’t think we should bother searching Calmet’s book any longer.”

  Cosette nodded. She’d already decided that it was useless to look for answers between those pages.

  “And since Paris was our only lead, and is no longer an option, there is only one avenue left for me to explore.” He met her gaze. “I need to return to the Order.”

  “Return to the Order? You’ve been there recently?”

  He tapped a finger against his empty glass. “I’m a member.”

  “I see.” She was silent for a moment, letting the importance of what he’d just admitted to sink in fully. She didn’t like this idea, not one bit. “Are you still actively . . . involved?”

  “Not since I met you.”

  Cosette swallowed, his revelation still setting uneasily on her mind. “Is there no other way?”

  He shook his head, resigned. “Nothing that comes to mind. I already told you that I scoured the ends of the earth to find something to end . . . this.” He indicated himself. “But most of the gentlemen that attend the Order are scholars. They have volumes upon volumes devoted to debauchery and the dark arts secreted in an underground chamber, some of them dating further back than the Crusades.”

  “But, is it necessary to go there?”

  Davien snorted. “They don’t allow any of those books to leave the Abbey for fear that the true nature of the Order will be exposed and come crumbling down.”

  “Maybe I could—”

  “Not a chance,” Davien cut in. “The moment you walk over the threshold of that place you’re considered fair game. It doesn’t matter if I’ve laid claim to you as my mistress. To them, you’re just another woman to bed.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Davien could tell that Cosette wanted to contest his claim, but he couldn’t take the chance that she might see Charlotte down in the bowels of the tunnels and demand that he rescue her immediately. There were prestigious men who ran the Order, like Dashwood, and freeing a possible initiate was not something a member did if they didn’t wish to be disbanded—perhaps permanently.

  If Davien were murdered, the possibility of researching these sacred novels would be for naught, for that’s how they were viewed by the Order. Only members could gain access, and even then it was with special permission by the current Abbot. Since, at the moment, that was Dashwood, Davien felt that his chances of being granted entry were good.

  And what he’d told her about being just another woman to bed had been absolutely true. Mistresses were considered nothing more than a personal courtesan. Cosette wouldn’t stand a chance.

  Thankfully, she relented. “What can I do? I can’t stay here feeling like a princess locked in a tower.”

  He’d already considered that too. “Try to control your . . . urges.”

  She paused. “Do you think there’s a way I can?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But isn’t it worth trying? I still struggle with the beast, but at least I can feel when it’s restless. Perhaps if you knew when the locket was growing stronger, you could fight against it.”

  She gave a brief nod. “I’ll try.”

  He slowly released the breath he’d been holding. “Good. I’ll make sure that Quinn is here to keep you company.”

  “He doesn’t talk,” she pointed out dryly.

  Davien grinned. “Then you shouldn’t have anything to argue about.”

  She rolled her eyes. “So when do you return to the Club?”

  “Tonight.”

  She swallowed. “So soon?”

  He tried to smile, but he had the feeling it came out like more of a grimace. “There’s no time like the present.”

  ~ ~ ~

  “Ah, Blackburn.” Dashwood’s eyes gleamed the moment Davien showed his face in the doorway of the Abbey. He was alone in the great hall, but Davien knew there were others lurking about in private rooms. There usually were, which is why Dashwood was there. As acting Abbot, he had to make sure that order was kept within the hallowed walls of the Abbey. “To what do I owe this pleasure? I thought you were . . . occupied with your new pet until the spring rites were held.”

  Davien held his tongue at the mention of Cosette being referred to as his ‘pet.’ “It’s rather quiet tonight,” he said instead.

  Dashwood shrugged. “You know that we only hold our meetings twice a month and our second one just concluded. It was too bad that you missed it. We granted a sacrifice to Bacchus and Venus. It was a rather . . . enthralling performance.”

  Davien could only imagine. “I returned because I was hoping that I might be permitted to look through the archives.”

  At the mention of this, Dashwood’s brows nearly rose to his hairline. “For what purpose?”

  Davien was relatively sure that he’d come up with a plausible excuse. “My lovely mistress and I were hoping to find some . . . different ways to play.”

  Dashwood chuckled. “If you’re looking for variety, you know that the lady is always welcome to partake in our activities.”

  “Not that sort of gratification,” Davien purred. “Although I have offered her the opportunity to further expand her personal enjoyment. We were considering something a bit more . . . provocative.”

  Again, those brows were raised. “What could be more amusing than our group orgies? I find them to be very pleasing.”

  Davien leaned closer, as if imparting a dark secret. “We are wanting to invoke the spirits.”

  “How very Machiavellian of you,” Dashwood murmured, although he seemed intrigued. “If I allow the use of our knowledge, perhaps you might share your findings with the rest of the Order, so that we might enjoy similar . . . pursuits in the future.”

  Davien kept his outward composure, but inside, the beast was moving, heavy with anticipation. “Of course.”

  “Then come with me.”

  Davien followed Dashwood past several closed oak doors, where most of the lecherous acts of the Order t
ook place. They continued down a set of narrow stone steps, which Davien knew lead into the bowels of hell. A labyrinth of tunnels connected at the base, where the true immoral acts took place. He’d been here many times.

  Dashwood took the path to the left. After a series of twists and turns, he finally paused before a set of doors at the end of the hall. He reached into his pocket and produced two iron keys. “The darkness and the light. You will need both—one to enter and one to leave. Do not dishonor the privilege you have been given in accessing the archives.” He handed them to Davien. “I hope your search proves fruitful.”

  Davien bowed lightly, as if in reverence, as Dashwood took his leave.

  Davien put the first key in the lock and heard the mechanism inside click before he pushed the door open. There was a slight creak of the hinges before a sizeable room was revealed.

  The first thing he noticed was the musty scent of old parchment and leather. He shut the door behind him and pulled on the ring. It held tight. He was locked in, which meant no one else could interrupt him.

  He pocketed the keys until he needed them again, and began to peruse the titles on the shelves. Some of them, like Calmet’s book and Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy were already in his personal collection. He moved down the line and scanned works dedicated to science, philosophy, alchemy, astrology, religion, and any other subject devoted to the study of the occult. There was a title involving Mephistopheles, and the legend of Faust who supposedly sold his soul to the devil himself. He skimmed over Nostradamus’ book ‘Les Propheties,’ and the works of Johannes Trithemius and his three-volume novel about magic, ‘Steganographia.’ Beside it was another set by one of Trithemius’ students, Heinrich Agrippa, his book entitled, ‘De occulta philosophia libri tres.’