Текст книги "A Beauty So Beastly"

Автор книги: RaShelle Workman

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 10 страниц)

Four
Snapping Her Neck

The night called to me. I raised my head and roared at the full moon, surprised at how free I felt. How happy. It was a sensation I’d never experienced. Joy seemed to bubble along my veins and out each of my pores. I ran through the thick trees, climbing higher into the mountains, stalking something.

The scent drove me onward. When whatever I was tracking moved, my body instinctively compensated. It stopped. I did too, but only for a moment, and then crept forward at a slower pace. My body was stealthy. I knew exactly where to step and how much pressure to use. My ears turned back and forth as I listened. I sniffed the air, allowing the breeze to caress my whiskers, almost tasting what I was after, seeing with my senses everything that was around me. To the right was a small stream used by my prey to get water. That’s where what I tracked was heading. It didn’t even realize I hunted it.

The snap of a leaf straight ahead told me it was moving again. I picked up speed, knowing I would catch it at the stream. My heart raced with excitement.

The trees opened slightly. A deer stood at the water’s edge, her ears turning, listening for sounds of danger. Finally she dipped her head and began lapping at the water.

My throat burned with need. I was starving. I dug my front paws into the earth, preparing to attack. Then I ran. One. Two. Three. I leapt on the doe, my claws digging into her back, my teeth grabbing hold of her neck. I shook, snapping her neck until she was still. When I knew she was dead, I let go, roaring in triumph. Leaning over, I went for her stomach, but that’s when I noticed my reflection in the water.

I was . . . I was . . .

I jerked myself awake. “A monster.” I’d fallen asleep at the makeup desk in my closet. Lifting my head, I glanced in the mirror, and noticed whiskers. “Impossible.” I tightly shut my eyes. Counted to five. Opened them. The whiskers were gone. “Thank goodness.”

A white china plate had been placed on the edge of the table. Two seasoned steaks sat in the middle. To the right of the plate was a steak knife and a fork, a white linen napkin underneath. The meat smelled rotten. Not fresh like the deer in my dream. I poked at the meat slabs. They lay there, dead.

“Cold.” Frustrated, I picked up the plate, determined to give Mrs. Dotts a piece of my mind. Why hadn’t she wakened me?

Juices the color of blood swirled along the edges. They made my mouth water. My stomach gurgled. “Gross,” I said, aloud. But picked up the steak and took a large bite, tearing off a piece with my teeth. I chewed a couple times, swallowed and took another. My hunger increased as I ate. I couldn’t get it inside me fast enough. As I shoved the final piece in my mouth I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. And froze. My teeth were long and pointy. A piece of meat hung in my mouth. Some of the juices dribbled down my chin. One droplet hung and quivered and then fell onto my shirt.

I screamed, horrified and dropped the plate. There was a laugh. It sounded like Fizban. I couldn’t stop to deliberate what it was though. I ran to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before I puked.

“Miss Beatrice. Is everything all right?” It was Isaac knocking on my door.

My body shook. I wiped my mouth and flushed. At the sink I turned on the water, closing my eyes to avoid the mirror, and rinsed my mouth.

“Miss.” Isaac knocked again, harder.

I spit. Cleared my throat. “I’m fine, Isaac.” I thought about the plate and the juices staining the thick white carpet in my closet. It should be cleaned up. “Come in.” I walked to the window, peering outside. It was dark. A glance at the clock told me it was after midnight. I’d been asleep nearly twelve hours. That was unnatural for me. The moon shone three quarters full, a waxing gibbous, if memory served. There were no clouds. Millions of stars twinkled brightly. A satellite blinked across the sky, slowly making its way around the Earth. A shooting star shot across its path.

Most people believed in wishing on a shooting star. Not me. I didn’t need wishes. I always got what I wanted.

Except love, a voice inside my head whispered. It sounded like Fizban again. Or Greg. Their words filled my mind: For your vanity, your cruelty and your cold, unfeeling heart, a curse I leave upon you . . . A year shall not pass before your true form will be revealed. You are Vaktare, daughter of royalty, born to deliver your people, created to save your species from the extinction they so rightly deserve . . . You, your father and your mother have been sentenced to die . . . Unless you can learn to give love unconditionally. Only then will your species have a chance.

Isaac had walked in and paused just inside. “What do you require?”

I heard Isaac speak, but his voice sounded so far away. The curse burned itself on my heart, my soul, and each and every fiber of my being.

“Miss Beatrice? Are you ill?” He came forward and touched my arm.

I flinched, turning away. With my back to him I answered. “I dropped my plate in the closet.” I pointed in its direction, too afraid to go in there myself. I didn’t want to catch a glimpse of my reflection, worried I might see the changes on my face.

“I’ll take care of it.” He went in my closet. I heard him pick up the plate. Then he reappeared. In one hand he held the plate and in his other was my cell phone. “It seems you have several missed calls from your friends.” He handed me my phone.

“Thank you.”

Isaac raised his eyebrows in shock. His features contorted in surprise. I figured that was how my face must seem as well. Words like “thank you” weren’t part of my vocabulary. I didn’t owe him my thanks. My family paid him handsomely for his service. That was all the thanks he required. The words had just slipped out, probably because of my crazy dreams or whatever. “I’ll have the Nelle come in right away to clean the carpet.”

I nodded. “Have Adam’s rooms been prepared?” I asked, quickly glossing over my comment.

“Yes, miss. And the contract has been faxed over as well. All is ready for Mr. Haddox’s return in the morning.”

“Good.” I said, sitting on the window seat, my body thirsting for the moon’s light like a fish needed water.

“Is there anything else you require?”

I stood. “Will you wake me at ten in the morning?”

“Of course.” He went to the door.

“Oh, and please . . .” Another freaking word I didn’t use. “Have Cook prepare me a rare steak for breakfast.”

Isaac glanced at the empty plate. I could almost hear him questioning my need for so much red meat. He didn’t ask though. “Very well.” He left the room, closing my door.

“What is my problem?” If I were suffering from some kind of drug-induced dementia, it was lasting a long time.

For the first time in my life I was scared. I felt like a little girl. And I was alone.

Ask Fizban. She said she’d help, my mind said.

“No!” I growled, flopping onto the cushioned window seat. The moonlight on my skin was like a salve. I’d never been a night person. In many ways it’d scared me, made me unsettled. “What’s happening to me?” I curled my small frame into the window seat, pulled on a blanket and closed my eyes.

Five
Practically Drooling

Mrs. Dotts bustled into my room carrying a tray and humming. “Good morning, Miss Beatrice. How did you sleep?” She busied herself, setting the tray on my desk.

“Fine,” I said, feeling slightly more like my old self today. I yawned and stretched.

Mrs. Dotts walked over and picked up the blanket I’d used last night. She folded it and placed it back on the window seat. She then picked my clothes off the floor. It was Nelle’s job to tidy my rooms, but Mrs. Dotts was one of those who saw a need and handled it.

I glanced down and realized that at some point while I slept I’d removed everything except my underthings.

“It’s ten o’clock. Mr. Haddox will be arriving shortly. You’d better come and eat.”

I glanced over at the tray. As I requested there was a steak, along with some orange juice and fresh fruit, which up until yesterday had been all I ate for breakfast.

Determined to get my life back, I picked up a strawberry and popped it in my mouth, excited for its sweetness. I could barely taste it. I tried another. If anything I tasted the second one less. I took a sip of orange juice. In the past I’d loved the flavors of the juice and the strawberries mixed together. Just like the strawberries, the juice was completely bland.

I cut into a piece of steak. It was rare, way too rare for my previous tastes, but I put it in my mouth anyway, practically drooling. It was delicious. Ignoring the fruit, I quickly took another bite.

“Chew it well. You don’t want to make yourself sick.” Mrs. Dotts spoke as she went into my bathroom.

I took another bite and tried to chew more slowly.

The shower in the bathroom turned on. Mrs. Dotts returned with my clothes and towels in her hands. “Your shower is ready.” She gave me a once-over before her eyes found mine. “Will you need me to help you with your hair?” Her eyes kept a steady gaze on my face and not my almost naked body.

She was doing Celeste’s job. My hair was long and could be unruly. I had a hard time dealing with all of it. Celeste had been a master. Now she was gone. “Yes, p—” I paused, changing my mind, remembering I’d told Adam he would do it. “Adam will do my hair when he arrives.”

I watched her work to keep a smile off her face. “As you wish.”

“Th—pl—” I let out a strange growl. “Send Adam up to my room when he arrives.”

“Yes, miss.” She left, taking the tray and my clothes and somehow managing to close the door behind her.

I went into the bathroom, took off my underclothes and got in the shower. When I finished, I got out and spent extra time brushing, flossing, and sterilizing my teeth, tongue, and mouth. I left the towel on my hair and went into the closet.

My phone rang and I dashed out. “Hello.”

“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you and calling you. I’ve left tons of texts. Why haven’t you returned any of them? I mean you just left your party and we haven’t seen you since.” It was Ashley. The girl knew how to have a one-way conversation. “Bea? Are you there? Bea? Bea?”

“I answered the phone didn’t I?” I put my phone on speaker and went back into my closet. I needed something totally hot, yet casual, so Adam wouldn’t think I was trying to impress him.

“Okay so talk. Tell me what’s going on? Eva said you slept with that guy she liked. Greg. She’s pissed because she saw you walk down to the wine cellar with him. After that she couldn’t find him and he never came back. She thinks you have him stashed in your room.” Ashley sounded pouty. She constantly worried that I was mad at her. It drove me insane. Her personality made me mad at her.

I contemplated what to tell Ashley. Obviously as soon as we hung up she would call Eva and tell her what I said. Should I make Eva mad? Should I lie and say Greg and I did hook up, even though it didn’t happen? It depended on what I wanted.

“Beatrice!”

“What?” I pulled on matching underthings.

“Are you sad because your mom and dad left? That’s impossible. I’d be beyond glad if my parents, especially my mom, would leave me the hell alone. Today she told me . . .”

I spaced out. Ashley’s stories could last a while. I found a Free People slip dress with the tags still on. It was a bright blue and reminded me of Adam’s eyes. I removed the tags and slid the dress over my head. I had the perfect shoes to go with it, my Sam Edelman sandals. They went all the way up to my knees, zipped in the back and were black.

“ . . . I mean isn’t that the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard?”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I can’t believe it.”

“I know. I mean if she’s going to go to Lake Powell with some random dude the least she can do is find out if his parents are rich.”

“Your mom?” I asked, confused.

“No. Cassidy. Have you heard a word I’ve said?”

I opened my accessories drawer and slid a set of Natasha Couture bangles on my wrist.

“Yes, of course.”

She sighed. “When are you taking me for a drive in your Ferrari?”

I shrugged, sitting in my makeup chair and flipping the mirror up so I wouldn’t catch my reflection. “Soon. I’ll call you.”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

There was a knock at my door.

“Adam.” His name left my lips before I could stop myself.

“Who’s Adam?” Ashley asked.

“I’ll tell you later. Gotta go. Bye.” I hung up and ran over to my window seat, grabbed a magazine and pretended to be reading. “You may enter.” I internally snorted at my words. I sounded like an idiot.

Isaac walked in. Adam trailed behind him. I noticed he was slightly taller than Isaac and broader. Today he wore a pair of tan chinos and a crisp white shirt. His hair curled at the ends, touching his collar. The sunlight struck his hair and it shone, golden. And his eyes? They were the brightest blue, like the sky on a clear winter’s day.

Not for long, I thought, irritated.

“Adam Haddox is here, miss.” Isaac carried papers in one hand.

“Is that the contract?” I asked, closing the magazine and setting it on the seat.

“Yes, miss. Would you like me to place them on your desk?”

I could have said yes. Let Adam sign them right away. But that would be too nice, too easy. He needed to suffer. The buzzing came back at those thoughts. I growled within, forcing it to stop.

“Take the contract to the office. Adam must first prove to me that he can do my hair and makeup. If he can’t, it won’t do to have him as my personal servant, now would it?” I allowed the sneer to show on my face.

“Very well, miss Beatrice.”

I could tell Isaac was unhappy with the decision. That hadn’t been part of the deal. But I was a Cavanaugh. I would do whatever the hell I wanted.

Isaac closed the door, leaving Adam and me alone.

He faced me. I couldn’t read his expression. My stomach was letting off fireworks again. In the bright sunlight his blond hair, blue eyes, and completely drool-worthy body seemed more perfect than yesterday.

“Come on.” I walked into my closet and sat at my makeup desk. He followed. The mirror was still flipped up so it was horizontal. I didn’t move it. “Use this to brush my hair out and be careful.”

“Yes, Miss Cavanaugh.” He took the brush from my outstretched hand. One of his fingers touched mine. A tingle shot up my arm. I ignored it. I did not tingle.

“Do you mind if I remove the towel from your head?” Adam’s voice seemed to flash through my body like lightning.

I crossed my legs and cleared my throat. “No. Go ahead.”

He carefully unwound the towel, letting my hair fall down my back.

“Just put the towel in the hamper over there.”

“Yes, Miss Cavanaugh.” He tossed it from where he stood behind me. The towel landed in the hamper. If they had been a basketball and a hoop, there would’ve been a swoosh.

I didn’t have time to be impressed because he took some of my wet hair in one hand and began brushing. He was tender, even more tender than his mother had been.

Once he’d finished with the ends he worked his way up. We didn’t speak. I had nothing to say and Adam seemed too intent on his work. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to enjoy the sensation. When my hair was completely tangle free I heard him set down the brush. I opened my eyes, preparing to say something, but Adam began running his fingers over my scalp, massaging it.

My body responded immediately to his touch. Every nerve ending from the top of my head to the tips of my toes came alive. My skin prickled and I shivered.

“Are you cold?” Adam asked.

“A little.”

He reached behind him and pulled a shawl from one of my shelves, then wrapped it around my shoulders.

“Thank you,” I said, taking the edges and pulling them close.

“You’re welcome, Miss Cavanaugh.” He began massaging my head again.

“What are you doing?” I asked, trying to shake off the feelings.

“I’m sorry, Miss Cavanaugh. I learned that a scalp massage stimulates the hair follicles.”

“Fine.” I pulled the shawl more tightly around my body.

After several minutes, he ran his fingers through my hair. “Now what?” I asked, irritated that my body had never been so relaxed.

“I’m going to braid your hair. The video I watched instructed I separate your hair into three pieces.”

“Oh. Well hurry up. I haven’t got all day,” I barked.

“Right away.”

I didn’t respond. Instead I closed my eyes again, unable to stop myself from reveling in the wonderful sensations. If braiding was all he knew, I wouldn’t mind. He could do this every day for the rest of my life. I sighed contentedly. He must’ve taken the sound to be impatience. I felt his fingers move more quickly.

“There. I’m finished. Would you like to see it?”

“No.” I kept the bite in my voice. “Get started on my makeup.”

He turned me in my chair. I realized I was very low and he was tall. My chair could raise and lower with the press of a lever, but I didn’t say anything. I wanted to see what he would do.

“Hang on.” He went over to my makeup and began going through my things. For such a large man he was very agile. He didn’t bump the bottles into each other. It was almost sensual watching him touch my perfumes, handle my eye shadow, pick up my liner pencils. His eyes caught hold of my lip balm and he smiled. That snapped me out of my daydream. Adam was supposed to be suffering.

“Get your grubby hands off my things!”

“Sorry, Miss Cavanaugh.”

“And stop smiling for goodness sake. This is serious business.” He stood straight, putting his hands to his sides, making his face stoic.

I huffed. “Better.” I pulled my makeup bag over and opened it. “What do you need?”

He didn’t meet my eyes when he spoke. “I need a light foundation with SPF in it, if you have it. Your skin is already flawless without it but a little would be nice.”

I felt my cheeks warm at his compliment.

“Some powder. Your makeup brushes. A pink shade of blush. Some brown eyeliner and some eye shadow in shades of brown and pink. Mascara in brown, if you have it. And then, if you don’t mind, I’ll apply lip balm to your lips.”

So that’s why he smiled. The lip balm was something he recognized.

I took out the things he’d asked for and set them on the desk. “There. Anything else?”

“No, Miss Cavanaugh, that should do it.”

“Great.” I closed my eyes. “You may begin.”

My chair began to rise and I was glad my eyes were closed. I felt his body come close to me. His breath caressed my cheek. It was warm and smelled like mouthwash. The effect was disconcerting.

“Don’t breathe on me,” I said through clenched teeth.

“Sorry.” He put some of the foundation on first, using only his third and fourth fingers. He was extra tender. And I had a strong desire to lean into his hand. With the powder, he brushed it over my face in an upward and outward motion. On my cheeks, he ran the blush brush in exactly the right spot. “I’m going to line your left eye first.”

“Good.”

He lined my lids and then did the shadow. I heard him pull the mascara wand from the tube. He touched it to my upper lashes and brushed it on several times. Repeating the same process on the other side.

“Now for the balm and then you’re finished.”

For some reason the idea of him touching my lips made me nervous. “I’ll do the lip balm, thank you very much.” I opened my eyes and came face to face with Adam. He must’ve been holding his breath because I didn’t realize how close he was.

“Oh,” I said, breathing in, catching hold of the scent of his body, like cedar wood and something sweet yet earthy—pineapple.

“Would you like to see how I did?” He kept his features composed.

“Sure.” I guessed I needed to now. I took a deep breath and held it.

Adam turned me toward the mirror and pushed it so I could see myself. I was too high though. Adam realized this and pressed the lever to lower my chair.

I kept my eyes forward, slowly watching my reflection come into view. First impression was, wow. My face glowed with freshness. The makeup wasn’t overly done. I pulled my braid over my shoulder. Each of the three sections was exactly the same.

“How did I do?” Adam asked. I bent down so that I could see his reflection in the glass as well.

I let out my breath. “You did a—” the word awesome almost left my lips, but I clamped a hand over my mouth. “Acceptable.” I shrugged, pressing some lip balm against my lips. “I guess.” I stood. “Let’s go sign that contract.”

“And then you’ll free my mother?”

“Yes. I said I would.” I kept my features blank. Inside I was glad he’d done so well. Glad! And happy! I remembered the bird singing while I lay out next to the pool. It’d been only two days ago, but it felt like a lifetime. I’d wanted to know what it felt like to be happy enough to sing. And suddenly I knew. Knew the feeling soaring through my chest was happiness. But it couldn’t be. And I sure as hell wouldn’t let Adam see it.