Beauty's Beasts: An Urban Fantasy Fairy Tale (Poison Courts Book 1)

by L. C. Hibbett

  I picked the parcel up and waved it in the air. "Blackwood, does Faye mind me borrowing more of her clothes? I don't want to have four wolves after me for upsetting their mate."

  Now, it was Blackwood's turn to look flustered. "The clothes aren't Faye's. I had them ordered yesterday in case you were going to be staying with us for a while, I thought you might feel comfortable in different clothes to what was in Faye’s wardrobe—they’re black."

  "Oh." I hugged the parcel to my chest. "Thank you. That’s really nice."

  Blackwood smiled and opened the door. Just before he closed it behind himself, he half-turned to face me. "I said packs mostly share one mate, but not always. Sometimes one pack member will find a different partner. Faye is with Jonathan. The rest of us are still searching for our match."

  Holy cow.

  It took a full minute after Blackwood had shut the door before my legs were steady enough to stand. I peeled the bathrobe from my body and sat in front of the dressing table to give myself a little pep talk while I tried to figure out how to use Faye's cosmetics.

  I stared into the glass. "This is an unnatural environment, Izzy. Your physical responses are heightened because of the stress. It's like some sort of Stockholm syndrome—you're imagining all these connections with the guys, but they’re not real. They’re just fellow supernaturals. Brothers. They have no interest in you, and you have no interest in them. "

  "You seemed pretty interested this morning." Faye's image appeared in the mirror in place of my own. I leaped off the chair and grabbed the bathrobe, pulling it over my shoulders and across my chest. Faye smiled sweetly. "Don't be shy, pretty girl. We're all friends here."

  Her voice was like purring in my ear, but I refused to give in to her charms, tempting as they were. There was no time for a roll in the hay with Faye until my sisters were safely out of Gastone's clutches and I had the blood my father needed to break the curse. I reached for the parcel on the bed and ripped it open. "Sorry, Faye. No time for hanky-panky—places to be, people to see."

  I emptied the contents of the parcel onto the bed and a smug grin spread across her face. "You're right. Those are the kind of clothes a man buys for his sister."

  My fingers reached for the black silk panties and the matching bra. They were expensive. Nicer than anything I'd ever bought myself. "Faye, Blackwood wouldn't know clothes if they smacked him on the ass." That fine, fine ass. "He probably went onto the first website that did next day delivery and ordered one of everything black, okay?"

  As I pulled the lingerie on slowly, I tried to get my mind ready for the work ahead, but the luxurious fabric brushing against sensitive skin made it almost impossible. Faye smiled at me from the mirror, calling for me to come and see myself in the glass. I gave her the middle finger and told her to leave me alone. Standing in front of that mirror in my underwear was a recipe for disaster. A very pleasurable disaster.

  "What the hell?" I picked up the dress Blackwood had chosen for me and dangled it in the air. It was tiny. I searched the pile for a pair of pants, thinking it might be a shirt, but there was none. Interesting.

  I slithered into the tight, stretchy dress and tugged at the hemline until it covered my ass. Faye gave me an approving grin and flitted from the mirror to the bedroom window so that I could see my own reflection. I took a deep breath and turned toward the mirror.

  My hair hung loosely in dark waves down to my waist. Stretchy black fabric hugged every curve of my body and the expensive bra pushed my breasts together so they looked dangerously close to escaping their confines. I ran my hands over the outline of my body and stared at the makeup accentuating my eyes and my full lips. I looked good, I really did—and it felt amazing.

  "Izzy?" Teddy’s voice called my name through the door and a fist thumped on the wood. He didn’t sound like a happy beastie. I rummaged through the pile, looking for a pair of shoes to match the dress Blackwood had bought for me, and I plucked a pair of five-inch stilettos from the bed in dismay. There were many things I could do but walking in skyscraper heels wasn't one of them.

  "Izzy?" It was Mac's voice this time. The banging increased in intensity.

  "I'm coming, I'm coming! Don’t pee your panties guys, I’ll be there in a minute." I slipped my feet into my faithful boots and stomped to the door. Nicole would kill me when she saw me wearing a designer dress and my biker boots. I'd probably totally ruined the look. I twisted the key in the lock and flung the door open. "Sorry, I was just getting dressed."

  Teddy, Mac, and Blackwood all stood in the corridor outside my door, but none of them spoke. Three pairs of eyes traveled the length of my body in complete silence. I tugged at the hem of the dress and lifted one of my feet off the ground. “I can’t walk in the shoes you ordered, sorry. The outfit probably looks like crap without it.”

  "No." Teddy shook his head violently and prodded me back over the threshold into the bedroom. "No, no, no. Absolutely fucking not. Take it off."

  I stared at him, eyebrows raised. "Excuse me?"

  Mac pushed his way between us and gave Teddy a backhand to the chest before he turned to me. "Izzy. Teddy is just a bit. . . We're both a bit—"

  "There's no way in hell you're going into Gastone's nest in that dress," Teddy growled. I looked down at my outfit, but I could barely see my dress because the perky globes created by Blackwood's wondrous bra blocked my view. All three men followed my line of sight and for one brief moment, we all stared at my breasts. Teddy's growl increased in volume. "Where's the shirt you were wearing yesterday? With the long sleeves and the high neck."

  "It's in the laundry. You spilled gin on it last night," I said.

  Teddy crossed the room and started to rifle in the hamper. "Perfect, that's exactly the kind of thing you should wear when you're meeting that asshole."

  Blackwood and Mac exchanged a look and Mac placed a hand on Teddy's shoulder. "Teddy, stop rooting through Izzy's dirty clothes—not appropriate."

  "Sure, it is," Teddy said, uncovering the soiled shirt with a grunt of satisfaction. He shoved it in my direction. I took it from him and tossed it over his head and back into the laundry hamper. "I'm not wearing dirty clothes when I'm trying to score a date, Teddy."

  "Come on, Izzy. There's gotta be something else. Here," he said, yanking his shirt over his head and handing it to me. "Put it over your dress, go on—it'll look hip."

  I threw his shirt on the bed, sweeping my gaze over the ridges on hard muscle on his abdomen, close enough to trail my tongue over. I pinched my wrist with my fingernails. "Teddy, I'm not wearing your shirt. I like this dress, I think it looks nice."

  "No, it doesn't look nice." Teddy slammed the lid of the hamper closed. I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at the ground.

  Mac glowered at his friend and took a step closer to me. Blackwood didn't move from his spot beside the door—the sentinel on guard. Mac's hands looked human again and his fingertips brushed my upper arm. "Izzy, what Teddy is making a really pathetic job of trying to say is that you look very beautiful. And we're afraid of what Gastone and his men could do to somebody who looks as perfect as you do right now."

  "Oh." Heat swept over my face and down my chest as I got lost on the sweetness of Mac's eyes. I tugged at my bottom lip with my teeth and glanced at Teddy out of the corner of my eye. His huge shoulders were bunched up tight and every muscle in his body was tensed. “Oh, right.”

  Teddy slumped down on the bed and hugged a pillow to his bare chest. “Yeah, what Mac said. Sorry. I just think this is a really stupid idea. I have a bad feeling about this, Izzy. You let us go get your sisters.”

  “And what then? All out war with the vampires and no cure for the curse?” I pulled my leather jacket on. “No. I’m able to take care of myself. And I’ve already texted Chesca and Nicole to tell them Dad is safe and I wanted to meet them in Gastone’s bar for drinks. I told them you guys were assholes and I needed to unwind after a terrible couple of days. And that I might reconsider their offer of a dat
e with Julian Gastone.”

  "What the hell? When did you send the message?" Teddy glared at me. Mac leaned back against the wall with a bang.

  Blackwood marched into the center of the room and caught me by the hand. "I thought we agreed earlier that we'd proceed with caution, Miss O' Neill. Contacting your sisters without informing us was rash and possibly dangerous. Who gave you a phone to use?"

  "I did." Jonathan stood in the doorway wearing bike leathers and holding two helmets. Faye's image fluttered across the surface of the full-length mirror. "I met Isabelle in the corridor earlier, looking for her father and Commander Murphy. She was worried about her sisters, I let her use my phone."

  A low growl started to build in Teddy's chest again. Mac pressed a hand down on Teddy's huge shoulder and frowned at Jonathan. Blackwood's voice was perfectly controlled and his body eerily still. "You should have consulted with us first, Jonathan."

  Faye pressed her hands against the glass and I saw a cloud pass behind her eyes as she stared at her lover. Jonathan kept his focus on Blackwood. "Isabelle has a right to choose what she wants to do. She's a free woman."

  Mac tugged at his messy waves. "But there are risks that a human can't understand—"

  "She's not human. And there are risks to her not going. Risks to us. If she wants to try and help us, let her," Jonathan growled. The four men were locked in an exchange I didn't fully comprehend, eyes flashing and mouths set into thin lines.

  Teddy was the first to look away. He threw himself off the bed and smashed past Blackwood and Jonathon, knocking them both aside. He turned at the door and gave me a long smoldering look. Then he was gone, shedding his clothes as he ran.

  Mac was next to leave. He turned at the door and came back to where I stood. He caught hold of my hand and stroked my palm with his thumb, leading me a few feet away from the others. He lowered his voice. “Izzy, about this morning—I wanted to, you know. I just didn’t want to be selfish. I didn’t want to drag you into all this. If anything happened to you because of us . . .” He stared into my eyes and bit his lip. “Just be careful, Izzy. Okay?”

  I nodded and watched him go. Faye tapped her fingernails against the glass. “And then there were three.”

  “Four, including you,” I said. For once Faye didn’t have a smart answer, she just smiled at me sadly.

  Jonathan lifted the helmets in the air. “Commander Murphy and your father are waiting for you at the door. I’ve been charged with accompanying you to the edge of the forest. The Guild have people who’ll watch you until you get into the club, but once you’re on Gastone’s property, you’re on your own.”

  “I can handle myself, don’t worry.” I patted the inside of my jacket.

  Blackwood clenched his jaw and lifted his shirt to reveal a weapons belt and a mouth-watering torso. I focused on the weapons. He pulled throwing stars and two blades out and passed them to me. “Spelled silver. None of your other weapons will cause harm to a vampire during the moonlit hours.”

  I replaced the knives inside my jacket with Blackwood’s weapons. “Good to know. Anything else?”

  “You’re an unaligned witch.” Faye answered my question before Blackwood had a chance to speak.

  I turned to look at the fairy. “Yes, apparently so. And?”

  The fairy pressed both palms against the glass. “An unaligned witch is a dangerous thing, my child. Not bound by the rules of the Guild, not tied by family loyalty—dark supernaturals of all natures long for a free witch to do their bidding. Be wary of friend and foe. Be wise.”

  “We’ve got to go, your sisters will get suspicious if you take too long.” Jonathan gripped my elbow and maneuvered me onto the corridor before I could say another word to Faye.

  Blackwood followed us with a dark look on his face. He clamped a hand down on Jonathan’s shoulder. “Tell Dr. O’ Neill and Commander Murphy that Miss O’ Neill is on her way. Ensure the Guild monitors are in place on the highway and Miss O’Neill motorcycle is in a suitable condition for the drive.”

  Jonathan nodded and hurried down the corridor. Blackwood and I walked on in silence until we had almost reached the entrance hall. “Miss O’Neill, if you’ve changed your mind. If you don’t want to go through with this—”

  “Blackwood?” He met my stare and my heart beat a little faster, a biochemical response to the hard line of his jaw and the brooding green stare. “I’m going to get my sisters and bring them back with some of Gastone’s blood. I’m the reason my sisters got dragged into this mess, I’m going to fix it. But will you do me one favor?”

  Blackwood’s brows lifted in surprise. “Of course, I’ll assist you in any way that I can.”

  I nodded. “Good. Can you please stop calling me Miss O’ Neill?”

  A slow smile spread across Blackwood’s lips. “I can do that. Belle.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  I snapped my visor down and accelerated onto the highway, leaving Jonathon behind me at the edge of Blackwood Forest. He'd told me the Guild would make sure I got as far as Gastone's club safely. Awesome, thanks, Guild—as if getting to the club was going to be the hard part.

  The wind whipped against my bare thighs and I grinned at the memory of Blackwood's expression when I'd climbed onto my Kawasaki—short dress plus motorcycle equals very little left to the imagination. Thank fuck my father had gone back inside with Maeve before I'd put on that unintentional display.

  Poor Dad. He looked like a shell of himself. Part of me wanted to wrap my arms around his tired old shoulders, but another part of me wanted to shake him for the decisions he'd made. I narrowed my eyes on my mirror as a red sports car roared up the road behind me. It overtook me out just as we passed the city limits and a cloud of fumes surrounded me. Jerk.

  The Crypt, one of Oak Crescent's most popular clubs, was situated on the outskirts of town. When I was a kid the old building had been a chapel but once Gastone Enterprises bought the property they transformed it into an exclusive casino and late night club—just what every small town needs.

  Nicole and Chesca frequented the place often with their boyfriends, but I’d never foot inside the gate. Pizza and beer were more my style. Maybe I was as boring as Nicole said I was.

  I pulled up to the valet and smirked at the look of surprise on his young face. Guess he didn't get too many half-naked girls on motorbikes tossing him their keys. I yanked my helmet off and shook my hair over my shoulders before I slid off the bike.

  "You want me to put it around back?" The valet was cute in an 'I'm ten years too young for you' kind of way. I wondered if he was a vampire. I’d asked Blackwood would I know which of Gastone’s punks were vampires, you know, with my witch powers. He’d given me his signature stare and told me I’d only know if I happened to have a mobile genetic testing lab I was planning to bring with me. Smart ass.

  "Sure, park it up," I said. I ran my hand over the Kawasaki and patted it gently. There was every chance I mightn't see it again if we had to make a quick escape. "Look after her, kid. She's a lady."

  The valet stared at me like I was crazy as I walked to the door. He was probably right, my grasp on reality seemed to get weaker by the second.

  There was a large queue outside the doors already, even though it was barely dusk. I clenched my back teeth and by-passed the crowd, heading straight for the door. If I was going to pull this off, I had to play the game from the start.

  "Hi, guys." The two men on the door were enormous, almost as big as Teddy, but nowhere near as handsome. I unzipped my jacket to the waist and ran my finger along the low-cut neckline. Both men moved to greet me at once, but the blue-eyed dude with tattoos on his shaved skull was the first to reach me.

  "Hey, girl," tattoo scalp said. He rested his weight against the wall and tried to look casual as he clenched his stomach and butt muscles. Bummer that I was at The Crypt on business—I would have gotten a kick out of roasting a guy that vain—not in a good way. He ran his tongue over his lips slowly and I battled against my ga
g reflex. "How can I help you, baby? Never seen you here before, you must be looking for a good time."

  I leaned a little closer to him. "Oh, I am. I've had the worst day and I need to relieve some of this awful tension, you know?" He nodded, practically swallowing his own thick tongue—looked like Nicole had been right about the power of good underwear and a skimpy dress. "My sisters are waiting for me inside. Is there any way you could sneak me in so that I can start . . . unwinding? Maybe you could join my sisters and me when you're finished here? Nicole and Francesca O' Neill—you might know them?"

  Tattoo-scalp opened the door and swept me inside before I could say another word. His demeanor had transformed—back rigid, lips pulled tight, no more attempts at sultry eyes. “You should take a seat at the bar, ma’am. Your sisters are in the VIP area. I’ll have someone let them know you’re here.”

  He vanished through the crowds so fast there were practically sparks under his heels. My pulse quickened as I took a seat at the bar. I asked for a beer out of force of habit and then changed the order to some pink bubblegum cocktail. I had never met Julian Gastone in person, but from everything I’d heard, he struck me as the kind of misogynistic prick that wouldn’t be too impressed with a girl whose drink was a large beer.

  I took a sip of the fluorescent concoction and twisted on my barstool to examine the club. Even though it was only early evening, the joint was heaving. I begrudgingly acknowledged that the interior of the old chapel had been decorated with impeccable taste. The white sofas that lined the walls looked like Italian leather and the tables were sleek minimalistic black glass creations. The center of the building held a dance floor, and on either side of the opposite wall, there were two sets of large double-door, each manned by men in elegant dark suits. Plush velvet curtains draped the walls and spotlights hanging from the exposed roof beams raked the crowd. My gaze wandered back to the two doors. I guessed one led to the casino that Gastone had built as an addition to the old church, which meant the other probably led to the VIP area.