Seven Kisses: A Beauty and the Beast Dark Romance (13 page)

BOOK: Seven Kisses: A Beauty and the Beast Dark Romance
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“Stay with me,” Gabrielle said, snapping her fingers though they were nowhere near his face. “You’re not ugly. You’re fine. You’re going to be fine, Fidel. We’ll get out of this mess together. I promise.”

He laughed, thought he didn’t seem perfectly conscious. “You have boobs.”

“Uhhh… yeah.”

“Am I dead?”

“No, Fidel. Don’t say things like that.”

“I’m too ugly for you now.”

“No you’re not. Don’t say things like that.”  Sighing, Gabrielle whispered, “You’re talking to the ugliest person on the planet. You just don’t know it yet.”

“Nooo.”  Fidel tsked his teeth. His eyes rolled back. “Raccoon ate my French fries, the bastard.”

“Your French fries are fine.”  A sense of impending doom sat heavily on Gabrielle’s chest as Fidel’s life drained onto her skin. “Fidel, listen, I’m ugly too.”

“Nooo.”

“Yes, I am. I’m ugly on the inside. I did something truly terrible and I’ve never told anyone about it in my entire life.”

“With the raccoon?”

“No, not with the raccoon.”

“He ate my French fries.”

“I know, babe.” With a quick glance at his badly bleeding face, Gabrielle inhaled sharply. When Mme de Villeneuve returned with another weapon, that would be it. The end of them both.  And she’d never have confessed her gravest sin. “Listen up. I need to tell you something. Are you listening?”

He licked her shoulder. “I’m never buying this ketchup again.”

“It’s blood, Fidel.”  Sighing, she said, “Listen, I need to tell you something: when I was thirteen my mother died in a fire and it was all my fault.”  Tears burned the back of her throat, but she fought them to speak.  “I lit a candle because I wanted to… to
touch myself
… you know?”

Fidel nodded against her shoulder.  “Raccoon knows all.”

“Oh, Fidel… wait, are
you
the raccoon? Never mind. Here’s the thing: I wasn’t supposed to play with matches. I wasn’t supposed to have candles in my room either, but I thought that made it special or romantic or something. I don’t know. I was just a kid. But I fell asleep and left it lit and it caught some posters and things I had hanging on the wall. I didn’t wake up until the fire alarm went off.”

“And the raccoon was full of smoke.”

“The room was, yeah. Smoke and fire, and I had to crawl out of my bedroom. I learned that in school, to stay close to the floor. My eyes stung so bad and I could hardly see where I was going, but I knew the way to the stairs and I could hear my sisters behind me. My dad had fallen asleep in front of the TV, so he was already close to the door, but my mom always took a pill because she had trouble sleeping.”

The tears wouldn’t hold off any longer. They fell on Fidel’s face, salting his open wounds, probably doing more harm than good, but what could she do? There was no escape from this situation, and no escape from this emotion.

“It was all my fault and I never told anyone. My daddy still blames himself after all these years, but I could never tell him. Now he’ll never know. He’ll always blame himself.”

“I’m gonna get you out of here, little raccoon.”

Gabrielle laughed through her tears. “Now I’m the raccoon, huh?”

“You’re the most beautiful raccoon I’ve ever seen.” Fidel lifted his head only slightly. “Inside and out.”

As Gabrielle’s eyes filled with grateful tears, the door kicked open. Her heart stopped when Mme de Villeneuve burst into the shower chamber bearing… oh merciful god, was that a machete? Gabrielle had never seen one before, but the blade was big enough to decapitate a woolly mammoth. It would have no trouble taking them both out in one swift blow.

Madame heaved the machete over her head, howling, “Defy me and suffer the consequences!”

“No!” Gabrielle screamed as Madame’s monkey followers raced into the room.  “He doesn’t belong to you, and neither do I. You’ve got issues, lady, and killing us won’t do a thing to resolve them.”

Eyes blazing, Madame cried, “Shut your mouth you little—”

The monkeys in chefs’ uniforms jumped on the woman in latex. Swinging from her arms, biting her face, they sent her screaming into the far wall. The sound of that frightening woman hitting the tile shocked Gabrielle every bit as much as the realization that the monkeys had been on her side all along. Maybe they’d chased her from the kitchen to drive her out of the mansion and away from danger.

And she’d thought the worst of them…

“Samuel! Gerard!” Hope broke across Gabrielle’s heart when the monkey butlers entered the chamber. “Oh, thank goodness for you. Fidel’s badly injured.”

“Eee! Eee! Ooo! Ooo! Eee! Eee?”

You think I can’t see that?

Gerard crammed an ancient bottle of iodine between his teeth and climbed their naked bodies, coming to rest on Fidel’s shoulder.

“Get off me, foul beasts!” Madame screamed.

Gabrielle turned as much as she could, but she could only see out of the corner of her eye as Mme de Villeneuve struggled under the monkey hordes. They beat her with their tiny fists and lifted the machete out of her ancient hands.

“Oh my goodness!” Gabrielle cried.

“Is it the raccoon? Use vinegar.”

“No, no raccoons, bud.”  Gabrielle bit her lip as Samuel climbed their bodies, all the way up to where their tender wrists were locked in place. When he spit a key into his hand, Gabrielle’s heart jumped. “Samuel! You brilliant primate! I could kiss you.”

Fidel laughed dreamily, then jerked upright as Gerard splashed a stream of iodine on his face.  “Balls!”

“Hurts, huh?”  Gabrielle was just so relieved to see him alert and alive.  As the monkey chefs brandished the machete over Madame’s head, Gabrielle said, “The monkeys were trying to help me before. They’re on our side.”

“Eee! Eee! Eee! Ooo!”

Take Madame out!

“Ooo! Ooo! Eee! Eee! Ooo!”

No you take her out.

“Eee! Eee!”

I’m not sure I can live with murder on my conscience.

“Ooo! Ooo! Ooo! Ooo! Eee! Eee! Eee!”

It’s for the greater good! Just do it, Gary!

“Well, yeah,” Fidel said, though he obviously couldn’t see that they were moments from slicing Madame’s head in half. “You should hear what they say about her behind her back. For monkeys, they are some catty bitches.”

Gerard slapped him in the side of the head.

“Oww! Brain damage over here.”

As tenderly as she could manage while a team of monkeys perpetrated a homicide within earshot, Gabrielle said, “I don’t think there’s any kind of damage you couldn’t overcome—to your body, your mind or your soul.”

“Nobody overcomes anything at Loindici Manor. You’d think that raccoon was being paid by the hour.” Fidel tried to lift his head, but Gerard blocked his view.  “What’s going on over there?”

Gabrielle’s heart shivered. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

He’d lived with Mme de Villeneuve so long. However contentious their relationship had become over the years, they obviously shared some kind of connection. If Fidel spotted a gang of monkeys holding her down like Gulliver among the Lilliputians, ready to take her out with a machete, who knew how he’d react?

“Fidel,” she said. “I will love you for the rest of my days.”

“Haha. You love a raccoon.”

“Oh, shut up about raccoons and kiss me.”

“Whatever you say, talking banana.”

Launching herself at the damaged plane of his face, Gabrielle pressed her lips to his.  She kissed Fidel so forcefully he released a moan that shook the foundations of Madame’s ageless building.  She tasted blood, but she wouldn’t let go. She clung to the man who’d once struck fear in her heart. He’d released her, and now it was her turn to save him from disaster, though she knew not how.

Above them, Samuel screeched a warning and Gerard swung down Fidel’s shoulder. As Gabrielle lost herself in their kiss, the chains loosened overhead. She couldn’t escape the metallic tinge of Fidel’s kisses, even as the building trembled viciously. If they died like this, surrendering to one final kiss, she would on some level die happy.

But this kiss was something special. With Samuel’s help, it broke the bonds that held them. They collapsed to the floor, Gabrielle’s legs clinging to Fidel’s. The still point in this crumbling world was their kiss. Even as the tiles broke from the walls and the ceiling crumbled upon them, Gabrielle couldn’t pull away.

When the earth shifted under Loindici’s base, the monkey holding the machete tumbled forward by the force of the quake. The unwieldy knife split Mme de Villeneuve’s head like a melon. Before she had time to cry out, her body stopped writhing under the weight of her minion monkeys. The ones near her face looked on in a horror Gabrielle equally shared. She’d never witnessed such a thing. It was different on TV. This live gore made her want to be sick all over the shattered tiles.

Pulling away, Gabrielle said, “Come on, Fidel. We need to get out of here. This house is coming down on our heads.”

“Snowflakes!” he cried, trying to catch a falling tile on his tongue.

“Not snowflakes!”  Gabrielle tried to wrap her arms around Fidel, but she couldn’t get them down. They were stuck above her head.  “Can you stand?  We need to leave. We need to go.”

“Where’s the raccoon?”

Gabrielle felt her gaze stray to the sickening sight on the floor, where blood-spattered chef monkeys loomed over Madame’s corpse.  “Raccoon’s staying here, bud. We gotta go. Come on. Up on your feet.”

Her entire body shrieked with pain. As they stumbled to the door, a troupe of frightened monkeys darted past their legs, leading them down the darkened hallway.

“Oh boy,” Gabrielle said.  “I have no idea where we are.”

Everything came down all around them: paintings fell off the walls, glass smashed to shards, plaster tumbled from the walls and the ceiling.  Every step was trepidation—either her foot would find a frightened monkey or an ancient floorboard would split in front of her. Darkness and disaster surrounded them, but they were together, running naked behind a steam of clothed monkeys.

“I don’t know where we’re going,” she said, tears streaming down her face.

Stumbling beside her, Fidel nonchalantly mumbled, “Doesn’t matter to me. We can eat wherever you want.”

“Oh, Fidel!”  As they followed the trail of monkeys into the darkness, Gabrielle managed to lower one arm enough to wrap it around the man whose love she would die for.  “Come on, bud. Follow the yellow brick road.”

Where was the exit?  The house wouldn’t hold long enough for them to find it—Gabrielle could tell by the tremble underfoot. The gates of hell were about to explode, sending up the underworld’s inhabitants like confetti.

And then it happened: an explosion took the house in its grips, shooting Gabrielle and Fidel and the monkeys clear across the lawn. They landed together on a pile of rubble, with Samuel and Gerard between on them. Dust filled the air.  She couldn’t see her hand in front of her face. She could scarcely make out Fidel beside her, but she knew he was alive because she could hear him moaning. And then she heard another sound—more a scream than a moan. After a moment, she realized it was coming from her mouth.

Bolts of pain streaked through her body. At first, she couldn’t tell where they were coming from. Then, when the dust began to clear, she spotted something gleaming in front of her. What was it? A dark mirror? No, it was highly-polished wood—the writing desk from the library. It had landed on her foot.

“Oh, Fidel, please get it off!”

Fidel sprang into action, but let out a blood-curdling scream to match hers.

“Your arms!” Gabrielle said. “I think your shoulders are out of their sockets. Oh my goodness, we need an ambulance. We need help. Help! Help!”

Fidel raised his voice in harmony. “Help! Somebody please help us!”

Little white polka dots appeared on the dusty horizon. Gabrielle blinked hard, and when her eyes adjusted to the hazy darkness, she realized the monkey chefs had surrounded the desk.

“Eee! Eee! Eee!” they cried, collectively.

Heaving on three, they lifted the desk from Gabrielle’s foot and a new kind of pain took over—the kind that required immediate medical attention.

“Thank you,” she said, again and again. “Thank you, all of you. Thank you for everything. I don’t know what we’d have done without you.”

And then a ghostly motion caught her eye. When she gazed across the clearing haze, she realized the statue garden was no longer where it had been. Gerard clung to her hand, shaking with fear as the marble statues descended from their podiums and wandered across the lawn.

“It’s okay,” she said, consoling the little monkey.  “I talked to them before. They were nice to me.”

Stepping down from her podium, the Victorian nurse smiled serenely. As she turned toward the ravine, her garments changed from ghostly white to vivid pink. Her hair was coiffed much the way Madame’s had been, but it was chestnut brown without a trace of grey.

“Bye,” Gabrielle said, barely pushing the word past her lips.

As the young nurse disappeared into the trees, she heard the words, “Thank you,” and her heart swelled.

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