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Beauty's Beasts: An Urban Fantasy Fairy Tale (Poison Courts Book 1) Page 4
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The minute the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. Teddy dropped his stare to the ground and shoved his arms behind his back. I screwed my mouth shut, torn between an awkward apology and the memory that these people were criminals who were holding me captive. They just didn’t seem very evil—well, not geeky Mac or blood fearing Teddy anyway. The jury was still out on Blackwood.
“You’re not cleared for that information, Miss O’ Neill, I’m sorry.” Teddy directed his words at the floor, making me feel like an even lousier excuse for a human being. “I should show you to your room.”
Teddy turned on his heel and left before I could begin to hobble together an apology for calling him a freak. I pushed my hair off my face and reminded myself that these people were the bad guys, not me.
As I followed him out of the room, I caught a glimpse of my pale face in the mirror again and I wrapped my arms tightly around my body, trying to suppress the unnerving feeling that the reflection in the mirror wasn’t quite the same girl that had left her home this morning.
Chapter Five
“The front section of the house is pretty much out of bounds—we value our privacy. Alexander’s study is up front so that he can monitor the main entrance, besides that, we stick to the rooms at the rear of the building.” Teddy’s shoulders relaxed as we made our way up the stairs. He paused on the small landing at the top of the first flight of steps and inclined his head toward the arched doorway. The door that had been locked when I tried it earlier, now hung open, revealing worn leather couches and an epically awesome home cinema. “The den and the gym are through there. That’s where we hang out most of the time—train, watch TV, game, play pool, eat.”
I craned my neck to get a better view of the large room. “Is that a kitchen in there? I figured you guys would be more into take-out than cooking. Although, there’s probably nobody in town that would deliver to Blackwood Manor.”
“Are you saying we look like we eat a lot of pizza?” Teddy squinted at me and crossed his arms over his chest. If his turtleneck and skintight pants weren’t lying to me, there wasn’t an ounce of spare flesh on his perfect body. Perfect—except for the claws and fur, that is. I gave myself a mental shake as Teddy’s face split into a wide pearly grin. “Just teasing you, Miss O’ Neill. There’s a full kitchen downstairs but we don’t really use the ground floor or the rooms to the front of the building—security reasons.”
“Right,” I said. “The feud with Gastone Enterprises. Do they want revenge for the decapitations?”
Teddy’s smile vanished. “Listen, Miss O’ Neill—”
“Izzy,” I interjected.
“Izzy, I know this must seem pretty fucked up to you, everything you’ve heard about us in town, and what you’ve seen today.” Teddy hid his clawed hands behind his back. “It’s not what you think, though. I know how it looks, but we’re not—” He released a breath and looked away for a minute before capturing me in the intensity of his gaze. “I don’t want you to feel frightened here. We owe your dad a lot. We respect him and we want to do right by him. I might look like an animal, but my momma raised me to treat people right.”
I stared at the big man, disarmed by the sincerity in his voice. Teddy’s brown eyes had tiny creases around the edges as if he was used to laughing a lot. I wondered what his laugh sounded like. My throat was tight. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Teddy’s teeth were unfairly white and straight.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll try not to be scared. If you try not to sever my head from my body.”
Teddy rewarded me with a smile that spread from ear to ear. “Deal. Come on, I’ll show you to your room so you can get settled before we eat.”
I followed him up another flight of stairs and back into the wood-paneled entrance hall. My gaze traveled to the wall of photographs and I ground to a halt before Teddy could usher me down a corridor to the left.
“That’s you.” I pointed at the photograph of four young men in uniform. “You, that science guy—Mac? And Blackwood. Is that white-haired kid Jonathan?”
Teddy leaned his weight against the banister and stared at the image. He nodded. “Yeah, that’s us. The morning we left for our first tour of duty.”
“You fought together? With Blackwood. Is that how you ended up in Crescent Oaks, in the middle of his family’s mess? He wanted his town back?” I turned my body to face Teddy.
“We’re like brothers. If Xander needs us here, that’s where we belong. It’s not a hardship. It’s what you do for family.” Teddy looked down at me and I felt a spark flash between us. There was no bond quite like the one you shared with the people who fought by your side. The boys in the picture were a team—and Alexander Blackwood had brought them here and turned them into criminals. I clenched my teeth.
Blackwood.
As if he’d read my thoughts, the door closest to the front entrance opened and Alexander Blackwood stepped into the hall. He was even more unjustly handsome in the lamplight, and I realized that his hair wasn’t brown at all, but rather a dark shade of strawberry blond. We glared at each other across the hallway, neither of us dropping our eyes until Mac stepped between us and blocked Blackwood from view. Mac gave me a tentative look. “Izzy, we talked to the Guild and your father about your requests—”
“They said no.” I flicked my glare in the direction the unfamiliar voice had come from; Jonathan, I assumed. Pale blue eyes met mine and then looked over my shoulder at the wall behind me. “You can’t access your father’s work—his agreement with the Guild forbids our people from revealing information to you that your father has deemed unsuitable.”
I took a step to my right, trying to place myself in Jonathan’s line of vision. “What? That makes no sense. Let me talk to my father; he’ll tell the Guild it’s a misunderstanding. I know about this—” I gestured toward his clawed hands and feet. “Situation, now. The cat—dog—is already out of the bag—it’s pointless trying to hide anything now. I’ll ring my father; he’ll want my help with his research.”
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and unlocked the screen. Mac scrunched one eye shut. “Your phone won’t work here, Izzy, we’ve got our own mast. All other networks are blocked.”
“Fine.” My lips narrowed as I shoved the phone back into my jacket. I stretched my hand out toward Mac. “Give me yours.”
He looked over his shoulder at Blackwood and then back to me. “I can’t do that either, Izzy. I’m really sorry.”
I crushed my fingers inside my fist and turned the force of my fury on Blackwood. “You! You’re the one who won’t let me contact my father—you and your shit-for-brains Guild. I swear to God, if you don’t let me see that my father is safe, right now, I’m going to tear your head from your shoulders with my bare hands.” Bolting across the room, I shoved Blackwood in the chest with my full strength. He didn’t budge from his spot but I could tell from the way his brows twitched that he’d felt my punch. “Let me talk to my father, Blackwood. Now!”
“He doesn’t want to talk to you.” I spun around and glared at the blond haired man standing beside Mac. Jonathan. Just like before, his pale eyes slid from my face and onto a spot on the wall behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, but there was nothing there besides a large antique mirror.
Teddy threw the blond man a warning look. “Jon, man—”
“It’s true, Theodore. The Guild has made contact with Dr. O’ Neill. He sent a video message for his daughter along with strict instructions that if our kind were to reveal any of the information; the Guild would be in breach of contract.” I had an overwhelming urge to smack Jonathan over the head with the mirror he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from.
Teddy twisted his neck to look at Mac and the shorter man nodded. “That’s what the Guild said. Xander has the video message.”
“Bullshit. This is such bullshit.” I crushed my fists together and fought like a demon against the stinging sensation at the back of my nose. My eyes burned as I glowered at Alexand
er Blackwood. “Show me the message my father sent.”
Blackwood lifted his chin slightly and addressed Mac. “Can you send the feed to Miss O’ Neill room?”
“Yeah, I’ll do it now.” Mac made for the corridor to the left of the stairs.
Teddy brushed my sleeve with the tip of his claw and bent his head in Mac’s direction. “Room is this way, I’ll get you there eventually, Miss O’—Izzy.”
“Thanks, Teddy.” I forced the words out, loud and true. I refused to give Blackwood or Jonathan the satisfaction of hearing how close I was to breaking. Blackwood stepped into my path as I followed Teddy, his lips parted as if there was something he wanted to say. I tensed my shoulders and walked straight through him, leaving him standing in the entrance hall with his arms spread and his mouth slack.
My arm was going to hurt like a curse when I let myself feel the pain but it was worth it.
Chapter Six
I didn’t want to be impressed by any part of Blackwood Manor. I wanted to hate the sight of it as much as I abhorred its owner, but—damn it—when Teddy unlocked the door to the guest wing, my heart just about skipped a beat. I’ve never been a girly girl. Chesca was the princess. She liked flowers, pretty clothes, and perfume. I liked working out, winning, and doughnuts—maybe not in that order. And Nicole, well, she liked winning too. Game, set, and match. So, I shouldn’t have been overwhelmed by the beauty of the bedroom in front of me, but I was.
“Holy crap.” I stepped over the threshold with my hand pressed against my mouth. Think, full-on sixteen-year-old pink princess, then half the IQ—that’s the expression I was wearing. I traced my fingers over the satin sheets on the four-poster bed and inhaled the sweet aroma wafting from the open window. A breeze fluttered into the room and a thin silk robe rustled on its hook on the back of the door. “Whose bedroom is this?”
Mac’s fingers froze on his cell and his face snapped in Teddy’s direction. Teddy moved slowly across the room, his eyes darting from the full-length mirror to the gleaming window panes. He crossed his arms over his chest. “It belongs to a lady of the house, but she’s not here right now.”
“Lady of the house? Alexander Blackwood is married? I thought he was only my age.” I sat down on the bed, testing the mattress, and began to poke through the pile of magazines on the bedside locker. Not a Sudoku puzzle in sight—pity. “Or is it his sister? Not his mom though, I remember hearing his parents had passed away when I moved back here.”
Mac tapped the screen of his cell with his claws and I marveled at the way he managed to manipulate the small electronic device in his unwieldy grasp. “Yeah, Xander’s parents are gone. No sisters or brothers, no wife; he’s just got us.”
I narrowed my eyes at the tone in his voice. If Mac thought he could guilt me into feeling sorry for Alexander Blackwood, he wasn’t as smart as he looked. Mac’s lips lifted at the corners as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. He gave the cell one final tap with his claw and pushed it back into his back pocket. My stare lingered on his pert buttocks for a nanosecond. I snapped my hands together and stood up. “So, who is this lady of the house, then? If she’s not a Blackwood. And where’s she sleeping if I’m in her bed?”
“She’s a family friend. The Blackwoods opened their home and the forest to many people, Jonathan, Mac, and me, included. They kept themselves to themselves after Alexander’s granddad died, kept a low profile, but Blackwood Manor is never empty.” The jaunt of Teddy’s chin told me he wasn’t going to tell me any more about the girl whose bed I was going to be sleeping in, and I didn’t push him further. There’s more than one way to skin a cat. Beast. Whatever.
“Okay, that’s all set up. The remote is on the bedside locker and the video will be on-screen when you power it on. We’ll let you have some space. You can watch it as many times as you want. Come on down to the den when you’re done, we’ll cook something up. Whatever you like, we’ll fix it for you.” Mac nudged his shoulder against Teddy’s arm and gave me a gentle smile. He stopped at the door and caught my eye. “Your dad said she was beautiful and smart too, you know.” I raised my eyebrows and Mac dropped his chin, looking at me through his tousled hair. “His wild daughter, your dad told me great.”
I swallowed hard to dislodge the lump in my throat. Man, I really hated when cute guys were sweet to me.
Mac disappeared down the corridor but Teddy stalled on the threshold. “There are clothes in the closet if you want to shower and change—probably aren’t your style, but they should fit.” He looked back at me, his broad shoulders almost filling the doorway. “Go easy on your old man, Izzy. He’s got his reasons for keeping you out of this work and knowing Dr. O’ Neill these past few months—I don’t think he’d ask you to sit still without good reason. There’s not much precious left in this world, can’t blame a man for trying to protect what is.”
I stared at the empty doorway for a moment after Teddy had gone before I exhaled. Whatever I had expected from the men who had chained my father to their basement floor, it definitely wasn’t this.
“All right, Izzy, get yourself together. Let’s figure out what the hell is going on here.” I closed the door with my heel and turned the key twice for good measure. I grabbed a chair from under the exquisitely carved dressing table and deposited it in front of the huge screen, twisting it backward so I could lean my elbows on it. My fingers rested on the remote control. “Come on, Dad. Don’t let me down. What kind of mess have you gotten us into.”
I gripped the chair and pressed play. A ceiling was the first thing that came into view. Yellowing, stained, and in need of a good paint, I recognized it as the ceiling in Dad’s lab from the purple splodge that had been the result of an unfortunate pie incident.
“Daddy, you need to make the camera face you. Move the little ball, there you go.” Chesca’s soft voice filled my ears as the camera focused on Dad’s worn face. I dug my chin into my shoulder—he was only in his fifties but my father looked old. Life had aged him prematurely into an elderly man.
“Thank you, darling.” Dad patted Chesca’s hand gently and Nicole came into view behind him, standing shoulder to shoulder with her twin. “Belle, it’s your father.” I pressed the back of my hand against my mouth and gave a watery chuckle. Dad smiled wanly, realizing his foolishness. “You know that, of course, you can see me. Izzy, I’m home with your sisters. I’m very upset about what you’ve done.”
There was a long pause as my father stared at the desk in front of him. Chesca kissed the top of his head and rested her arm on his thin shoulder. He nodded and continued speaking. “But I understand that I put you in this situation. I should have been better prepared for my deadline. Should have known how you would react if I didn’t return when I was expected, but I thought I had time to make a good excuse—time to protect you from the implications of this project.” He lifted his eyes to stare into the camera. “I’m sorry, Belle.”
The wobble in my father’s voice was like a blow to my solar plexus. Nicole leaned over Dad’s shoulder. “Izzy, Daddy doesn’t want you working on the project. He says it’s dangerous and he doesn’t want you meddling. Are you listening to this? He can’t do his work unless he knows your safe, so, for once in your life, do what you're told and stay put. No fighting, no breaking shit, no hacking into the system or whatever you did for the army—just be good. And don’t be a goddamn whiney bitch about having to live in a castle for a few weeks, sleeping with the enemy. I said I’d go but you insisted—”
Chesca appeared on screen and elbowed her twin out of the shot. “Izzy, we’re sorry we can’t ring, but Dad doesn’t want us encouraging you.” She looked down at my father and he nodded. “Dad’s perfectly fine, and so are we, so please don’t make things any worse by making a big fuss and a drama, okay? We love you Belle.” The screen went blank—video over.
I stared at the empty screen for a moment as the rage build in the stomach. What the hell was going on? None of it meant made any sense—that’s not how my father was.
It’s not how he treated me. It was all messed up. I flung the remote against the wall and screamed, past caring who heard me or what they thought. When my lungs were empty I sprang to my feet and started pacing the floor. I froze, the feeling of being watched creeping over my skin again.
I prowled the room, searching for any hidden surveillance equipment, but coming up cold. My head pounded as I pressed my hands against my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. A shiver of movement in front of the mirror. Spinning to face the glass, I whipped my Beretta from my holster. My trigger finger twitched and it took every ounce of my training to keep me from blasting the mirror into a hail of glass.
I lowered my gun slowly and stared at the image in front of me. Same room, same bed, same dressing table—but the face staring at me from the glass was not my own.
My eyes widened and my mouth fell open, but the reflection in the mirror remained still and calm. I lifted my hand slowly; the girl in the glass didn’t move a muscle. I squinted at the glossy surface and took a tentative step forward. The details in the image were so like the room I was standing in that it was unnerving. The same four-poster bed, the same silk robe hanging on the inside of the door, the same curtains. I leaned closer to the dressing table. “The same magazines on the bed? How is that even possible?”
“It’s not a painting.” I scurried backward with such speed that my skull cracked against one of the bedposts. The girl in the mirror reached out a sympathetic hand, long copper waves cascading around her full chest as she moved. “Oh dear, are you quite all right? I’m afraid I startled you.”
My first instinct was to scream for Teddy and Mac, but as soon as their names were out of my mouth, I sealed my lips shut in horror—I didn’t need two strangers to help me. I didn’t need anyone. Needing people only left you with a hole in your heart when they were gone. I squeezed my eyelids together and counted backward from ten under my breath before shaking myself into action.