Page 15 of The Agent and the Outlaw
As we slowed to a trot, Charlotte’s grip loosened, and she lifted her face from my back.
“What’s in Gévaudan?”
“Shelter,” I replied. I didn’t want to go into details. If she wasn’t going to trust me, I certainly wasn’t going to trust her.
She made a noise of frustration I barely heard over the clop of Tartuffe’s hooves.
She leaned closer, her breasts pressing into my back, and spoke in my ear. “But you think we’ll be safe from the soldiers? Thebêtes de sangwon’t find us or follow us? What’s to stop them?”
“Nothing,” I said, gritting my teeth to fight the rising tide of lust brought on by her excruciating closeness. The heat from her body sang through me like a siren’s song. I swallowed hard. “I’m certain they will eventually catch up to us. This merely buys us some time.”
She laughed. “How very soldier-like you think—or perhaps I should sayhow very male you think.You plan nothing out and wait for someone with more brains than you to provide guidance.”
I stiffened.
“Now, I mean no offense. It’s the fault of your sex to be creatures of action and, bless you all, sometimes you don’t have enough blood in your brain because it finds its way to other extremities. Not that I’m complaining about male virility, of course,” she carried on.
Irritation climbed up my spine. Not only had she insulted my intelligence and that of my fellow man, but she acted like I was some thick-headed soldier incapable of thinking for myself—a nerve too often struck by my father’s harsh criticisms. Even more irritating was the kernel of truth in her words—she was in this mess because I’d acted rashly back at Versailles. It didn’t mean I was some incompetent fool, though.
“It’s just that more often than not, men don’t think things through, and women must enter in some capacity to assist—yet you callusthe more emotional sex!”
A barely restrained growl climbed out of my throat. She either didn’t hear it or carried on as if she hadn’t.Probably the latter.
“Well, you needn’t worry, Antoine, I am perfectly capable of being the brains in this temporary outfit. We will travel as far as we can until late afternoon, take a small respite, then get back on the road as soon as the sun sets. If these soldiers are vampires, they will travel at night, and we cannot afford to let them catch up to us. We must stay on the move.”
“You don’t say,” I muttered darkly.
“Unless, of course, we are able to find some suitable accommodation in which to hide tonight. Then, as you say, we will arrive in Gévaudan and apparently pray thebêtesdo not follow, since you have no other course of action in mind.”
My temper flared and I pulled Tartuffe up short.
“If you’d rather take them on by yourself, by all means, Madame, take your chances with their mercies—only I can assure you, mercy is not something you are likely to receive from them. You would be lucky andsingularto escape their clutches with your life,” I warned.
She huffed her indignation.
“As for mysimpleminded plan,” I continued. “I take it you have not heard the news from Gévaudan all the way up in Versailles lately—or perhaps you’re too busy insulting everyone, or maybe too wrapped up in your own selfish affairs to bother paying attention—but the entire town is locked down. Completely closed off to supernatural outsiders. Thebêtesmay follow us to the border, but they will not be able to enter. We will be safe—for a time.”
I’d felt her bristle at my insults, but her curiosity superseded her ire.
“Closed off? Because of the blood plague?”
“No,” I bit out, spurring Tartuffe forward. “Not because of the vampires. It is another threat they fear.”
Her shock was evident in her slight gasp and the pressure of her arms around my waist. Reflexively, my mind went back to the sight of her in the bath, then dressing in that slow, torturous manner. I wondered if she acted so passionately in bed. Quickly, my senses returned, and I drew several deep breaths to calm my racing heart and stiff cock. It had beenmuchtoo long since I’d bedded a woman, but I’d consider myself desperate indeed to try and bed this hellion.
“What other threat?” she prodded quietly.
“A werewolf.”
5
CHARLOTTE
November 1, 1767
The road to Gévaudan
“What an inappropriate timefor you to develop a sense of humor, Antoine,” I said with a laugh.
