The Beast (36 page)

The door opened again and the two Hunters walked in. Pixie released a high jingle at the sight of them and flew excitedly over to Jack. She kissed his cheek while he greeted her in kind.

“Pixie? You brought Pixie with you?” Andre said, eyebrows raised.

“Stowaway.” Belle pointed at her accusingly. “Please have a seat, messieurs. I’ve ordered refreshments, but I assume you wish to tell me why you are here without delay.”

“Quite right.” Andre walked over, grabbed a log, and tossed it on the fading embers. A few prods from the iron poker revived the sleeping fire. “I’m afraid the church has decided against allowing the Prince to live.”

“What?” Sitting down quickly, Belle felt suddenly very awake. “Even after he has returned to his castle?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jack came over to sit, letting Pixie stay on his shoulder. “I believe the words used were ‘As long as he is controlled by the beast, he is a threat to us all’.”

“Controlled by the beast? So they don’t believe that he is cursed then. He’s still the devil incarnate to them.” Belle shook her head, frustrated after everything they’d been through.

“To be fair, they do not know Prince Aleksander like you do.” Andre exchanged a meaningful look with Jack. “And they do not know you like we do.”

“Merci.” She gave a smile, but it was a struggle with the worry that she now felt. “So what action do they intend to take?”

“They’re gathering all the capable men in Contefées—” Andre silenced himself as the door opened.

Servants entered with trays of food and began serving fresh coffee. Belle shooed them away, stating that they were perfectly able to pour their own coffee at this juncture. They curtsied and quickly left.

“You were saying?” Belle took over where the servants left off, first handing a filled cup to Jack.

“They’ll be outside these gates by midday.” Andre took the cup Belle offered, thanking her gravely. “Their intention is to execute the Prince and I believe they intend to kill everyone here if he is not turned over willingly.”

“They said that?” Belle set down the coffee pot.

“Not in so many words.”

“But, Belle, there was no mistaking their intent,” Jack added.

Sipping from her cup, Belle took in this new information. There was really only one logical step to take first.

“We must wake the General and Monsieur Petit.” She set down her drink and went to the door. “There is much to do and the day is already upon us.”

The door to Aleksander’s room opened. Belle glanced up from looking in the bullet chamber to see Andre entering. He was armed to the teeth, just as she was. With the cover back over the chamber, Belle put her beautiful revolvers in their hostlers.

“’Bout ready?” he asked closing the door behind him. His dreadlocks were pulled neatly out of the way.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.” Belle hated the idea of possibly fighting her family, and her people. Could she really stand against them if this turned to bloodshed? She knew she couldn’t, so she’d have to make them see reason.

“How is he?” Andre nodded to the Prince slumbering in his own bed. Since it was easier to defend him here than the royal sick rooms, Aleksander had been moved just hours ago.

“He’s holding together. His strength is coming back, but it’ll take time for all those wounds to heal.” She looked from the Prince to the Hunter. “Andre, I have to ask. How come you’re with me and not with the other Hunters?”

Tugging the glove tighter over his mechanical hand, he answered, “The church may pay us, but you lead us. I’ve sworn my vows alongside you from the beginning and I intend for it to remain that way. For Jack, it’s essentially the same.” Seeing Belle’s thoughtful look, he squared his shoulders and held out his arm. “Till my heart stills.”

Warm pride swelled within Belle’s chest. Somehow, through all of the bloodshed and loss, she had earned a steadfast loyalty from Andre and Jack. If she never earned a single thing in her life, this would be more than enough.

Belle grasped his forearm. “Till my heart stills.”

A horn sounded a long, deep keen from one of the castle battlements. Belle released his arm and placed a hand on her revolver. “They’re here. We’d better get out there.”

Andre sighed. “Here we go.”

Belle looked at Aleksander. He rested peacefully. Her heart surged as she remembered his recent declarations. She wanted to reach out and stroke his cheek but fought the inappropriate desire.

As Andre grabbed for the door handle, the balcony doors flew open with a crash. They flinched in surprise as glass scattered over the floor and frosty wind swirled around them. Belle then looked up and gasped.

Standing confidently on the stone railing of Aleksander’s balcony—like an angel of death—was the norn. Her blue and silver cloak whipped about with the wind. Her hood fell back revealing straight, silver hair. Her hand rested comfortably on an evil looking dagger strapped to the front of her lower waist. A smile played on her perfectly red lips.

Belle stepped forward to place herself between the norn and the Prince. She drew her guns. Andre moved beside her.

“Belle LeClair,” The norn spoke, unbothered by the Hunters’ protective positions. Her voice was lyrical, in a fashion, with a lacing of malice. “If I’d have known you were going to be such a problem, I’d have killed you long ago.”

The sound of Belle’s name coming from the norn gave her a sickening feeling. Andre glanced at Belle, his brow furrowed in confusion. Likely he was wondering the same thing she was.

“How do you know my name?” Belle asked.

“Oh, I’ve known you for a long time.” The norn floated down to the balcony floor. She carefully placed her hood back on her head, her solid ebony eyes not looking away from them. “I watched you kill my wolves. You were good. A real talent for slaughter. I had hoped you would solve my little Moon-Hound problem, but…”

The norn walked casually beneath the archway, cold air pouring into the room from behind her. Belle tightened her grip on her revolvers. Her mind raced. How was she supposed to stop this norn when Gastone had already put a sword through her head?

“Oh Belle, I never thought you’d fall for a—hellhound.” She snickered at the term. “But you did something to him, Belle. His resolve was weakening, he was just about to give in to Fenrir.” The amusement dashed from her face and she glared at Belle with nothing short of hate. “Then he did something he shouldn’t have been able to do. He fought the curse!”

The scream bounced off the walls, sounding like she had the full force of Hell behind her. Belle’s nerves jumped. She didn’t know what was more terrifying. The norn calm and collected, or angry.

There was a bang on the door. Jack called to them from the other side, but the sound was muffled. He pulled on the door. It didn’t budge.

“No one will open that door unless I want them too.” The norn smiled again. “You’ve presented me with the perfect opportunity, Belle. I tried to kill you once, but that handsome Hunter of yours got in my way.” She chuckled and positioned herself squarely before them. “Now he’s turned against you, distracting everyone else…and Fenrir has seen fit to let me kill you and your prince.”

As though it were a cue, Andre whipped four knives at her. With unimaginable reflexes, the norn held up her arm and caught one through her palm and two in her forearm. The fourth stuck between her ribs, but these wounds didn’t bother her. In fact, it looked as if she’d wanted the knives to injure her.

“Did you forget who I am?” She glared at them both and slowly, painfully, began pulling the knives from her flesh. The skin healed as each blade was removed. “My name is Skuld. I am a norn; the embodiment of fate. You
cannot
hurt me.”

Skuld, as she called herself, pulled the last knife from her torso, and Belle felt a sickening terror grow within her stomach. How could they stop her? Nothing would kill her. Briefly Belle considered lunging into the norn, sending them both over the balcony, but she doubted even that would kill her.

Not facing the same dilemma as the Hunters, Skuld gathered the knives in one hand. As though she were an expert, she flung them. All four flew between them, missing them both completely. Belle might have laughed at the poor aim if it weren’t for the heartbreaking whine that followed. She turned to find the beast, Aleksander, on his knees just behind them. He’d climbed from his bed, no doubt to fight alongside them. Now he was wounded; stuck with all four blades.

Belle couldn’t prevent the small cry that escaped her and she dropped to her knees before him. “Oh, God.”

Prince Aleksander’s pained eyes watched her meaningfully and she wished desperately that he could speak to her. He still seemed so weak, his breathing labored, and yet he had tried to stand with her. Without warning him of the pain to come, Belle stashed away her revolvers, grabbed the knife in his shoulder, and ripped it free. He half whined, half howled but didn’t move. She pulled another from his side and dropped both knives with a clatter to the floor.

Blood made her hands slippery as she grasped a third knife in his stomach. She was vaguely aware of gunshots firing when she removed the blade. Then Andre was thrown, he slammed into the great doors and landed in an unconscious slump. There was no time to react before Belle felt Skuld’s cold hand on her shoulder and she was cast away from Aleksander.

For several feet, Belle was airborne, then she slammed into the marble floors and slid many more. Pain sliced through her hip and up her side. On shaking arms, she fought to push herself up. Skuld towered over Aleksander.

“I saved this death just for you,” the norn said and from her waist she pulled the long, silver dagger. It glinted in the light, revealing strange and intricate markings.

She slammed the bayonet into the norn’s shoulder and dragged it down with her. A foot-long wound tore in its wake. The weapon dug into her muscle, causing Skuld to pull back with it. She screamed in outrage and, somehow, pain.

Skuld jerked herself forward, yanking the revolver out of Belle’s hand and sending it to the floor. Belle backed away as the norn’s angry attention turned to her. Belle’s eyes flicked around the room trying to find some way to fight this otherworldly being. Then she saw Aleksander hunched over, still breathing, as he grasped the final throwing knife lodged in his muscle. At least there was this. At least he was still alive. Maybe somehow, he could fight back even if it was too late for her.

Eyes still on her prince, Belle didn’t react fast enough when Skuld reached for her neck. Her fingers went around Belle’s throat. They squeezed painfully.

“What are you?” she said through clenched teeth and lifted the Hunter from the ground.

Sharp pains stabbed at Belle’s lower back. Frantically, she pulled at the norn’s fingers. They were cold and immovable. No air could make it to Belle’s lungs. She looked into Skuld’s eyes in this moment. They ate up her distress as though her pain was nourishment.

“Adieu, little Bellerina,” she said with a sickening smile. Holding Belle aloft, like she was nothing more than a feather, Skuld carried her to the balcony. She stopped just below the archway, her expression changing. “No, I don’t think I will throw you to your death.” She smiled at her delightful idea. “I think I’ll let you suffocate instead. That’s a more befitting death.
Slow
.”

Belle’s brow creased in shock of such evil. Her heart raced and she reflexively gulped for air. When none came and her lungs began to burn, she thrashed. She kicked the norn several times, but Skuld paid it no mind. Trying desperately to calm herself, Belle reached for her left revolver. It was gone; likely lost when she was thrown before.