The Secrets of Shadows

by Waite, Tabetha

  ~ ~ ~

  Cosette overheard the exchange, hardly daring to believe how easily Davien had managed to turn the tables on Dashwood. He’d caused suspicion to fall on him, while relieving her of the burden of being a suspect.

  She had never met such an amazing man.

  When Davien returned to the library, Charlotte gave a low whistle. “Gor, that was quite an impressive performance, Yer Grace. Ye might just have a future on th’ stage.”

  He shook his head at her, before moving to kneel down in front of Cosette. “I managed to cast possible guilt on Dashwood, but I don’t know how long it will last. This fight may continue if he can convince more of the Brothers to testify against you.”

  She nodded. “I understand.”

  “Well I’m glad someone does,” Charlotte interceded sourly. “After that, I think it’s aboot time I know what is goin’ on around here.”

  Cosette pursed her lips together and turned to Davien to see him wearing a similar, grim expression. “I trust her,” she whispered.

  He ran a hand through his hair.

  “I’m waitin’,” Charlotte said impatiently.

  Blackburn finally blew out a breath. “Very well.” He looked at her. “But I would prepare yourself for a descent into hell.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Three hours later, after Quinn had returned to his room to rest, for he already knew the truth surrounding Shadowlawn and its occupants, Cosette and Davien sat down with Charlotte in the library and relayed the entire sordid story. From the night she’d first met Blackburn, the only part of the story that Charlotte had been aware, to the present day, they left nothing out. Cosette told her about Davien’s curse, and the one tied to her locket and everything it had caused her to do. Davien was silent for the most part, but he filled in the blanks when needed.

  When Cosette was finished, she had to admit that Charlotte had surprised her. She’d been waiting for more of a reaction. She thought her friend might have showed horror when she revealed that Blackburn was an aswang, and she was a murderer, but she stayed completely straight faced until the end of the recounting.

  Now, the only question she posed was to Davien, “Did ye ever find anythin’ in th’ archives?”

  Cosette couldn’t remain silent. “You’re not . . . upset by any of this?”

  “Wot would that accomplish?”

  Cosette laughed, almost hysterically. “Didn’t you listen to anything I said? I have hurt people.” She pressed a fist to her chest for emphasis.

  “Aye. An’ sheep, I know.”

  Cosette couldn’t find any other way to make her understand, but to put it boldly. “You have to leave, Charlotte. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you because of me.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. I’ll be fine.”

  Cosette put her head in her hands, as Charlotte waved a hand at Davien.

  He cleared his throat and answered her earlier query. “I found a paper that I ripped out from the The Lesser Key of Solomon. It speaks of summoning a creature by the power of a sigil, but we don’t know what image to draw without a seer and a wax tablet.” He shook his head. “I had both, but the night I rescued Cosette from the Abbey, there was an accident.”

  “Wot happened?” Charlotte asked.

  “I had been to a gypsy camp a few days ago. There was a woman there by the name of Vadoma.” He paused, as if it was difficult for him to speak. “She gave me the materials to make the tablet. She said after I had put it all together to bring it back and she would tell me what I wanted to know. The next night, when I returned, she had been . . . killed.”

  His gaze shifted to Cosette, and that’s when she knew that she had more than one death on her hands. “It was me, wasn’t it?” she whispered.

  Davien hesitated, as if he didn’t want to confirm what she already knew, but his silence spoke volumes. A low moan escaped her, as new tears threatened to spill. “Will this nightmare never cease to end? Shall there be no end in sight to this madness?”

  As Davien comforted her, Charlotte spoke up, “So whot happened t’ th’ tablet ye made?”

  “I left it at the camp. I was too upset about what had happened to Vadoma that I transformed into the wolf and left my horse behind with the tablet inside the satchel. At the time, I didn’t care about retrieving it, because the future looked as bleak as it always had.”

  “Then th’ way I see it,” Charlotte said. “We need t’ get it back.”

  “If only it were that simple,” Davien drawled. “The gypsies won’t let me anywhere near that encampment.”

  “Then Cosette and I will go.”

  He snorted. “You think it will be that easy to stroll into their midst and make such a request. After what happened to Vadoma, they will be on even higher alert, and her grandson, Vano, most of all.” He shook his head. “You have no idea what sort of task you are taking on. I tried for twenty years to break this curse, and you make it seem as if you will succeed with such little attempt.”

  Charlotte eyed him steadily. “Sometimes th’ hardest tasks are met with th’ smallest effort. Ye seem t’ forget tha’ Cosette an’ I come from an entirely different background than ye do. We’ve had t’ struggle fer everythin’ we have. At times, it’s been a fight t’ just survive.” She waved a hand around the room. “Ye may not understand tha’, livin’ as ye do in yer castle in th’ sky, but I can guarantee tha’ we won’t give up tryin.’ We have succeeded where others have given up.”

  “Fine,” Davien ground out. “Let’s say you find the tablet and, by some miracle, are allowed to take it with you, what then? We still have the problem of finding a seer.”

  “No, ye dinna.” Charlotte lifted a challenging brow. “Because I happen t’ know a lady who has th’ gift o’ sight. Ye don’t work at a tavern like Th’ Lion’s Share night after night without gettin’ friendly an’ chattin’ with people.” She tossed her red hair. “So are we goin’ t’ stand here arguin’ aboot it, or are we goin’ t’ get a move on?”

  Chapter 23

  “Your Miss Kingsbury certainly never fails to surprise, does she?” Davien remarked dryly to Cosette as they returned to her chamber to gather a few items for the journey to the gypsy camp.

  The plan was that Charlotte and Cosette would ride in the carriage with Quinn as their driver, now that he had recovered enough to take on the journey, under the pretense that they were a lady and her maid on their way to visit relatives. On the way, one of their horses would ‘throw a shoe,’ which their coachman would take into the nearby village to repair, leaving them stranded along the road near the encampment. Davien would remain out of sight in the form of the crow, but would be nearby in case trouble occurred.

  Cosette only laughed. “She has her moments. I rather thought it quite brilliant of her to suggest that you turn into a horse and help pull the coach.”

  “I found that far from humorous.” His gaze stalked her from across the room. “And you are a rather saucy wench for bringing it up again.”

  Cosette turned to the wardrobe in the guise of trying to select an appropriate gown to wear that evening when they set out, but really, she was just trying to suppress a grin. Charlotte’s comment certainly had gotten under his skin.

  As she lifted her hand to touch a gown in striped silk, Cosette suddenly gasped. She saw the shadows drifting in her peripheral vision, and felt Blackburn’s warm breath on the nape of her neck before he actually spoke. “You wouldn’t be attempting to laugh at my expense would you, darling Cosette?”

  Her heart was pounding, threatening to break free from her chest. It had been so long since she had been this intimate with Davien that she had nearly forgotten the intensity of the magnetism around them.

  He stood at her back, although he was careful not to stand too close. His hands slowly came around her fr
ont and began to unbutton the banyan. When it was done, he peeled away the layers just enough that he could cup her breasts beneath the thin layer of her chemise. She moaned when he flicked his thumbs across her erect nipples.

  She knew that he was just as affected as she was, for his voice was husky when he said, “I’ve missed touching you here.” He kissed the nape of her neck, causing a shiver to travel up her spine, colliding with the sensation of his mouth teasing the sensitive skin there. “I’ve missed kissing you here.” He moved to her left ear and sucked gently on the lobe. “And here.”

  He removed the banyan from her body, letting it fall to the floor in a discarded heap. His left hand continued to play with her breasts, touching, squeezing, while his right hand traveled down past her ribcage, the indention of her waist, the flare of her hip. Here he paused and brought up the fabric of her shift.

  The cool air hit her legs, causing Cosette to suck in a breath, but it wasn’t from the chill, but the anticipation of what Davien might do next. She could feel his manhood, eager and ready, where it pressed against her backside, but he made no move to enter her. Only let his fingers travel across her exposed stomach, and down, down, until he reached that bundle of nerves at her core.

  At the first flick of his finger, she sighed. “But most of all, my dear, Cosette,” he rasped against her ear. “I’ve missed being inside of you.”

  With that, he plunged a finger into her depths.

  Cosette splayed her hands out on the wood of the wardrobe, helpless, a slave to her desire for Davien. He continued his assault on her senses, thrusting and retreating, teasing and tormenting, until finally, she came apart in his arms. She shook as warm pleasure traveled through her limbs, her torso, turning her blood to liquid fire.

  When the storm had subsided, Davien removed his hand and let her shift fall. Only then did he allow her to turn around. He placed a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose, and then he started to move away.

  She grabbed his shirt. “Where do you think you’re going? We’re not done.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Davien felt his cock kick eagerly in his trousers, straining to be free. “I don’t want to hurt you, Cosette. I felt your pleasure and that is enough for me.”

  Her dark eyes shone. “But you’re not the only one in the room.”

  She laid a hand on his chest, and began to lead him backward. When his legs hit the edge of her bed, she didn’t stop until he was sitting down. She lifted the hem of her shift and drew it over her head, tossing it aside.

  “Cosette—”

  She laid a finger over his mouth. “I want you, Davien,” she said softly. “Please don’t deny us this moment.”

  There was nothing she could have said that would have made him react—except this. He reached down and undid the front of his trousers. His manhood stood proud and erect between them. “Put your arms around my neck,” he instructed.

  She obediently did as he asked. When he lifted her hips and placed her on his rigid length, she looked at him uncertainly. “Like this?”

  As her tight center slid onto his length, he groaned. “Oh, yes. Just like that.”

  When he bucked his hips, grinding their bodies together completely, her eyes widened, darkening with arousal. “Hold on for the ride, Cosette.”

  He grasped her hips and set a pace that was rough and reckless, but he could tell it was what they both wanted, what they both needed. She tilted her head back, exposing that creamy neck, while her dark hair flowed to his fingertips. Her breasts quivered in time to his every movement, her wet core drenching his cock, as he drove deep, again and again and again.

  When she cried out her pleasure a second time, he absorbed each pulse of her body. As she was drifting back to earth, his muscles contracted, preparing for the release that was building inside of him. When it came, it brought a powerful force that seemed to go on for an eternity. He let it flow through him, around him, and poured every inch of himself into her beautiful body.

  It was heaven on earth.

  ~ ~ ~

  That night, Cosette and Davien walked downstairs hand in hand. He was dressed in his same black attire, with that contrast of white, while she was fully attired in a sackback dress in blue and ivory stripes. After a bath, where the warm water had done wonders for her sore back, she had donned full undergarments, wincing only slightly as she tied the laces of her stays.

  Silk stockings graced her legs and her feet were adorned with blue buckle pumps. Her hair was styled around her head in a pile of dark curls, and a fashionable straw bonnet graced the top with several white ostrich plumes as an adornment. She looked like a duchess tonight, but she felt like it as she looked into Davien’s dark eyes. They smoldered, a reminder of what they had shared only a short time ago, but it was the smile that graced those masculine lips that took her breath. It wasn’t his usual smirk, or even a sly grin, but it was as if he was genuinely . . . happy.

  “You are stunning, Miss du Bouir,” he had said upon seeing her.

  She didn’t know it, but a smile had lit up her entire face at the compliment. “Thank you.”

  But now as they reached the foyer, she turned to him. She bit her lip anxiously, for something had been bothering her, yet she’d been reluctant to give voice to it before now. “Earlier,” she said. “It wasn’t like . . . the last time. I wonder why.”

  “Perhaps we were given a reprieve,” he returned, although she could tell by his distant expression that he had wondered the same thing. “It doesn’t matter,” he murmured. “Don’t give it another thought.”

  She nodded, although she knew it would be easier said than done.

  “Are ye two aboot done moonin’ over each other so we can go?” Charlotte stomped down the stairs. Quinn had gone down to the stables earlier to prepare the coach. Since Davien was missing one of his four horses, he’d also had to go in search of another.

  But when they opened the front door, the unmarked, black coach was ready and waiting to depart. As luck would have it, Quinn had managed to procure another black stallion, so the team didn’t look any different than before, even if the new one was slightly restless.

  Cosette remembered the day she had nearly been run down on the streets of London that fateful night. It seemed like a lifetime ago that Davien had stepped down from this coach with that silver headed cane, taking on the appearance of Lucifer himself. Now, here she was, willingly stepping into that very carriage, while her lover was that same dark prince.

  She looked at him and realized that no matter what happened from this point on, she would never regret a single moment of their time together.

  He seemed to read her thoughts, for he winked at her and took to the skies in the form of the crow.

  ~ ~ ~

  The double caw that Davien sounded overhead was the signal that they’d been waiting for. After riding in the carriage in nervous agitation for the better part of three hours, at least on Cosette’s part for Charlotte appeared as carefree and composed as ever, they were finally nearing the gypsy camp.

  The coach came to a stop as Quinn slowed the horses. Cosette felt the coach list slightly to one side as he jumped down from the driver’s seat. She listened as he unhitched the rogue horse, and led it off into a nearby cover of trees. He would be needed when it was time to return to Shadowlawn, hopefully with the tablet in tow, but for now, he had to remain out of sight. One false move and their carefully laid plans would turn to dust.

  Cosette clasped her hands in her lap and tapped her thumbs together. A bead of nervous perspiration rolled down her back, and irritated her healing whip marks. Thank God it was still mid-February. If it was summer, she would likely roast like a chestnut. “How long do we need to sit here again?”

  “Just long enough fer th’ gypsies t’ know we’re here.”

  “And then?” Cosette asked.r />
  Charlotte shrugged. “They’ll find us. We certainly canna go lookin’ fer them, or they’ll know fer sure it’s a trap.”

  Cosette nodded. Just that slight reassurance was enough to appease the butterflies in her stomach.

  Even so, it felt like an eternity before the approaching sound of hoof beats reached their ears. “It’s show time,” Charlotte said, as a trio of three men reined in their mounts outside the coach.

  “Have you run into trouble, doamnelor?” one of them asked. He was a pleasing young man with shaggy hair and an open smile. He didn’t fit the description that Davien had painted of Vano.

  “Aye,” Charlotte returned. “My mistress an’ I were headin’ t’ visit m’lady’s aunt when one o’ our horses threw a shoe. Our coachman went t’ get it fixed, but he hasn’t yet returned. I fear fer our safety.” She sniffed, holding a handkerchief to her eyes for true, lady in distress effect. Cosette could only applaud her performance.

  “What’s your name, frumoasa?” the second man asked, peering forward slightly in order to get a better look at them.

  Charlotte shot her an amused peek from the corner of her handkerchief. “It’s Aine.” She nodded at Cosette. “This is my mistress, Lady Adelaide.”

  “Aine?” the first man replied with a hint of skepticism. “Isn’t that the Irish goddess of love? You sound like you’re from the Highlands.”

  “My mother was Irish, but my father was Scottish. I was raised in th’ Highlands, so I suppose I adopted some o’ their mannerisms.” She fluttered her lashes for good measure. “I just dinna know what we’re goin’ t’ do out here all alone an’ defenseless like we are!”

  It was all Cosette could do not to laugh, but two of the gypsies seemed to readily take the bait. But it was the third occupant that held up a hand. That’s when she knew that this was Vano, and his word was law. This is when the true test would come.