Davien didn’t return to Shadowlawn until nearly dinnertime. He’d been up all night and day reading tome after tome of the Lemegeton, the books of Solomon. He felt as if he was close to . . . something, but it was always just out of his grasp, teasing, taunting. Thankfully, Dashwood had approved his request for one more visit to the archives, which he planned to do at the earliest convenience. For now, he wanted to check in on Cosette. The truth was, he’d missed her, and he wanted to find out if she’d had any other issues regarding the voice. He also had further instructions for Quinn.
However, the moment he walked in the front door he was greeted by a chill in the air. It was almost . . . unholy. Instantly, he was on guard as the beast inside let out a warning growl and began to prowl around for the threat. Shadows followed in his wake, as he grew closer to the library. Whatever was in there was filled with rage.
He walked over the threshold—and stopped. He hardly dared to believe that what he was witnessing was real, only that there wasn’t any another explanation for what was right before his very eyes.
Cosette was there, standing before the mantel, but only in human form. Her dark hair was blowing around her shoulders by some unseen breeze as she murmured some sort of incantation. But it was the fire shooting out of her fingertips a steady stream of flame filling the grate that caught his gaze, because it wasn’t the normal glow caused by a wood burning flame. It was completely white.
“Cosette. Awaken.”
She instantly whipped her head around to him and he felt his stomach sink to see that her eyes were once again filled with that terrifying red haze. “Nice of you to join us, Your Grace.” It wasn’t Cosette who spoke, but the voice. “She is not very pleased with you for hiding Charlotte’s whereabouts.”
Davien clenched his jaw. That would explain the rage he’d felt. Cosette felt betrayed, disheartened, so it had been easy for the locket to assume control. “How did she find out?”
“That is not your concern.” The sound of the voice slithered through the air like an invisible snake, gliding on the wind.
He ignored the entity. “Cosette, I know you’re still in there. Listen to me! You have to fight. I didn’t mean to lie to you I was only trying to protect you from the truth. You have my word that I’ll do everything in my power to free Charlotte. But you have to fight now!”
“I grow weary of your pleas, human. I’m tired of waiting. She is coming with me now.”
“Over my dead body,” Davien snarled.
He felt a sly pleasure steal into his bones. “As you command, Your Grace.”
Davien felt the presence behind him a moment before he turned, causing the knife that Quinn held to slice open his upper arm, rather than plunge into the middle of his back. Davien felt his fangs lengthen and grow as he faced off against his coachman. They scuffled for the weapon only a moment before he eyed the jugular at the man’s throat. With a howl, he sank his teeth into the flesh.
~ ~ ~
Blackburn has used you ill.
How long will you heed my warning before you dispense of him?
You are not meant to be with him.
You are mine.
Cosette shook her head, fighting against the demons inside of her head. “Davien,” she whispered, and then stronger, more confident, “Davien.” She kept repeating it over and over until it was a shout breaking free. “His name is DAVIEN!”
After that, all was still. The voice was gone, the haze diminished, the flames shooting from her fingertips evaporating into smoke.
It took her a moment to finally come to terms with her surroundings, but once she did, she gasped at the sight that greeted her. Davien had Quinn bent over his arm, his fangs puncturing the side of his throat until the coachman’s eyes were starting to roll back in his head. “Davien! STOP!”
Instantly, he raised his head, but those weren’t his dark eyes staring back at her, but the glowing, yellow ones that belonged to the beast. “Release him. Please.”
For a moment, those eyes narrowed. She had a moment of fear that he might let Quinn go only to lunge for her, but instead, the fangs slowly retracted, as Davien’s eyes returned to normal. Blood still dripped from his mouth and covered the front of his shirt, but he allowed Quinn to slide to the floor in a lifeless heap. “Cosette?”
He started forward.
She did too.
They met halfway, clutching each other as if afraid to let go, both of them scared that another horrifying experience like that would be the last one to finally rip them apart.
Davien’s hand trembled as he held the back of her head, his hand thrust in her hair. His other grasped her waist in an iron grip. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Charlotte. It was selfish of me to ease your worry.”
She shook her head, her face buried in the curve of his neck, her arms wrapped around his midsection. “I forgive you,” she sobbed, the tears flowing freely. “I did the moment I saw Quinn behind you, bringing that knife down . . .”
“Shh.” He stroked her hair. “It’s all right. I’m fine.”
Cosette closed her eyes against the sight of the coachman’s still body on the floor. “Is he—?”
