“That doesn’t make any sense!”
His eyes glowed with that unholy light, making them shine in the darkness, before he said quietly, “Have you done any reading today, Cosette?”
She shook her head, puzzled at the abrupt change in conversation. “No . . . I . . . was too distracted.”
“Indeed.” His mouth twitched. “In that case I think you’ll find a certain area of the study to be to your particular interest.”
“What are you talking about—?”
But her words fell on deaf ears, carried away by the wind, for he was gone.
Cosette wasn’t sure if she was relieved, or frustrated that he’d left. But at least he had left a clue for her to follow.
She headed for the library.
The book she had admired by Calmet was lying innocuously on a table in the middle of the room.
Instantly, a sense of foreboding covered the area. With each step that brought her closer to the book, her breathing became more shallow. As she reached out a hand, an unseen breeze opened the book and flipped through the pages until it abruptly stopped. She cautiously leaned forward and read several paragraphs dealing with evil spirits. She felt as if the floor dropped out beneath her feet.
Was this what Blackburn wanted her to see?
She swallowed but picked up the volume and began to read.
~ ~ ~
Late into the night, she felt his commanding presence surrounding her once more. She glanced up and saw Davien sitting in a chair a few feet away from her, his hands steepled before him. For several moments, all she could do was stare. She tried to imagine that the horrific things she’d read about could be connected to someone so handsome and intriguing, but then she realized that it could very well be true.
She calmly folded her hands in her lap. “So what are you trying to tell me? That you’re a werewolf? A vampire?”
“If only I possessed the gift of immortality,” he said dryly. “Unfortunately that isn’t the case. I am what the good people of the Philippines refer to as an aswang, but I have many qualities. Although a good slice through my jugular and I fear I’m done for.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Why are you telling me this? Aren’t you afraid that I may act upon it?”
“Shall you creep into my chamber and kill me in my sleep, dear Cosette, now that you know that you live with a monster?” That dark aura around him seemed to grow and shift. When he spoke again it was hollow, almost unnatural. “Perhaps I might wish for an end to this hell on earth.”
Cosette knew, in that moment, that she couldn’t end his life any more than she could her own. “What happened?” she asked softly.
He chuckled without humor. “Do you want the short version, or would you like to hear the entire sordid story? The latter may send you to your chamber to lock your door in true fear.”
“I want to understand.” She swallowed. “I want to know it all.”
“Then prepare yourself, my dear, for when I am through, you may look at me an entirely different way.”
~ ~ ~
It wasn’t often that Davien allowed himself to revisit the past, but it was the only way Cosette could imagine what he truly was. So he began.
“I was in Italy in the middle of my Grand Tour. I had just finished my studies at Oxford, and my father was taking me on a journey of the continent. I was in the blush of youth, eager to learn all that life had to offer. It was in Rome that we ran into Sir Francis Dashwood. He was a long-time acquaintance of my father.” Little had Davien known at the time, but that association, that small spark of ignorant interest that he’d shown would cause him to pay with the rest of his life.
“Dashwood was a frequent world traveler and had been known to attend many large and important galas. He was in Rome that night for the same reason we were—to celebrate the “Young Pretender’s” birthday.” Davien learned later that it was because of Dashwood, on good terms with the Prince, who had managed to pilfer such coveted invitations. “Sir Francis and my father had similar . . . enthusiastic pursuits. They had a plan to resurrect Wharton’s Club in London and bring their debauchery to new heights.” Davien would later find out that Dashwood had other plans. He didn’t care to share the glory that would come with the new club.
“He was rather convincing, and for a young man out to make his mark on society, eager to take part in the delights of the flesh, he made it all sound so compelling,” Davien went on. “The ball lasted late into the night, with most of the crowd dispersing just before dawn broke the horizon. After I parted ways with my father, I went to my chamber. I remember kicking off my shoes and starting to undress, but my mind was whirling. I kept thinking about all the hot-blooded females that I’d flirted with that night. They wore their fancy silks and priceless jewels and pressed against me with their flirtatious smiles and teasing glances. I kept thinking of their creamy breasts, pushed up on display.”
Davien noticed Cosette stiffen at his recollection. Unfortunately, it was about to get a lot worse. But she had wanted to hear it all . . .
“I thought I’d locked the door behind me, but when I heard a click, I turned around to find the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She had long dark hair and wore a provocative, red nightdress that left very little to the imagination. One arm was propped against her gently curved hip as she casually turned the lock on the door with her delicate, painted nails. Her eyes held mine the entire time. With a sultry grin, she began to come closer. I was convinced that she was a whore, a gift from Dashwood to properly introduce me into the world of carnal delights.”
He remembered the feel of her slender finger as it trailed down his jaw, and the mesmerizing look of those eyes that would haunt his nightmares for years to come.
