Page 33 of The Agent and the Outlaw
The soldiers flinched and loosened their hold on the beast, whose large yellow eyes fixed on the blood dripping from Hugo’s throat.
“Antoine,” she said steadily. “On the count of three, we’re going to make for your horse and get the hell out of here. One…two…three!”
The last vampire let go of the beast and Charlotte shoved Hugo forward, precipitating a sickening collision of bone, blood, and fangs. Instantly, Charlotte and I jumped on Tartuffe’s back and kicked him into a furious gallop. Behind us, I heard the ferocious sounds of a grim battle being waged—the creature’s teeth, claws, and massive size against the vampires’ fangs, speed, and superior numbers. My gut twisted, but the only thing that mattered now was the fact that neither enemy gave chase.
I looked down at the torn sleeve and oozing gash in Charlotte’s shoulder—a shoulder that had been perfect and unmarred before I’d let my desires carry us into disaster andvery nearlydeath. How could I have been so foolish? I wasn’t a brainless adolescent! I was a man—a man who’d long ago learned how to control his baser urges and set aside fanciful romantic notions in the face of duty. Then, suddenly, this woman—thisdangerouswoman—showed up, and in the space of a few days, turned my entire world upside down.Damn it, Antoine. What has gotten into you?
Charlotte was making me lose sight of things—my vengeful action against Sade and the very real repercussions of that action, my father’s betrayal and thebêtes de sang, my future beyond the military…not to mention the fact that I barely knew Charlotte and trusted her even less. Especially now that I’d seen her in action more than once. What kind of a spy took on five supernatural soldiers at once, didn’t bat an eye at shooting a man in the gut, and knew exactly how to snap a man’s leg in two with a well-placed jump kick? No kind of intelligence agent I knew—to say nothing of the fact she was awomanand a damnedcomtesse.
That certainly didn’t stop you from pushing her up against a tree and taking advantage of her,I thought darkly. But the way she’d responded to my touch had unleashed something inside me—something I now recognized as nothing less than utter damnation. Given that we’d only just escaped the clutches of thebêtesand some unknown creature with God-knew-what motives, it was distressing that I was still fixated on Charlotte and her effect on me. I should be trying to understand our predicament, but… Well, I’d thought myself a fool for less.
My bitter oaths died on the wind as we galloped on, Charlotte clutching Tartuffe’s mane in a pained grip. I knew we were some distance away from Gévaudan, but I didn’t dare stop until we reached either the city gates or sunrise. I only hoped we could hold on until then.
“How’s your shoulder?” I said at Charlotte’s ear.
“I’ll be all right,” she called back to me. “I can dress the wound when we get to Gévaudan, but I don’t want to stop if I can help it.”
Her face was pale, and her brow was damp, but I hoped that was from the earlier rain and not the onset of shock and fever. The tattered fabric at her shoulder was dark with her spreading blood, much more than had been there moments before. If we didn’t find shelter soon… I didn’t want to consider the alternatives.
We raced on, eventually slowing to a trot. Tartuffe’s sides heaved and Charlotte’s eyes occasionally fluttered closed. Right about the time I was considering a rest, the sky began to lighten, and I saw Gévaudan appear in the shallow valley before us. Encircled by a lazy, aquamarine river, the medieval town of stonework buildings seemed to be at once charming and ominous. Surrounding the township was a wall of thick timbers that looked like they’d been built in a hurry—as did the pikes along the road that were topped with fly-infested wolf heads in various states of decay.
I nudged Charlotte awake as we approached two guards flanking an iron-spiked gate. Her face was distressingly pale and there were dark purple shadows beneath her eyes, but she snapped to attention like a solder at inspection.
“Charlotte, we’ve arrived. Hold on just a bit longer,” I murmured.
She nodded and adjusted her cloak to cover her wounded shoulder. In a flash, her weariness and discomfort seemed to evaporate, and she pasted a dazzling smile on her face. Her ability to transform her entire countenance in an instant both impressed and disquieted me.Could she turn so easily on me?
The guards nodded at us.“Bonjour.What’s your business in Gévaudan?”
“Just passing through,” I said in what I hoped was a charming manner. “My new wife and I are on our way south, but we’ve run into some troubles along the road. We’re stopping in for supplies and a couple nights of lodging while our carriage catches up to us. Broke a wheel some miles back and didn’t want to wait it out in the poor weather.”
“Any supernatural incidents on your journey here? Or particular allegiances to vampires?” The guard queried.
“Mon dieu, non!”Charlotte gasped. “Certainly not. That’s why we went out of our way to come through your fine commune in the first place—we knew we’d be safe fromparanormalinfluences.”
The guard eyed her and flicked his gaze to the sunrise over his shoulder, apparently verifying our adherence to a daylight schedule.
“Very well. There’s a curfew in effect. The gates are locked at sundown and unlocked at sunrise. Any wolf sightings orunusualbehavior is to be reported.”
“Goodness,” Charlotte blinked. “That seems quite serious.”
“Werewolf attacks, Madame. We’ve lost too many innocents not to take it seriously. But the beast only attacks at night and hasn’t breached the wall yet. You’ll be safe inside. There are three inns off the main street. You should be able to find lodging in one of them,” he said. He stood to the side and pulled a massive lever, raising the iron-spiked gate. I dismounted and led Tartuffe and Charlotte through.
Once inside, with thebêtesand the creature behind us, I felt a flutter of relief, but it was fleeting. The early sun seemed to have disappeared behind a blanket of clouds, casting a dim gray pall over everything. The hustle and bustle that I expected from an early market day was subdued and hurried, as if the town’s residents were in a state of collective mourning—anxious to return to their homes as quickly as possible.
Off the main street, I noted a bakery and a couple of stalls of produce, as well as a modest-looking tailor and draper. As soon as we could find a room and I’d tended to Charlotte’s shoulder, I’d head back out for supplies. I kept one eye on Charlotte, worried that she’d drop from Tartuffe, but though her face was strained and pale, she stared resolutely forward. It was hard not to admire her mettle, especially considering I’d seen soldiers in battle suffer lesser wounds and pass out in a dead faint.
There you go again, Antoine—mooning over this damn, dangerous woman that you swore to leave alone. Merde.I just needed some food, some rest, and some distance from her; that was all.And the truth,said a small voice in my head.It bothers you that she’s keeping secrets from you, even as you keep secrets from her, too.
“What’s the matter with you?” Charlotte asked, startling me. “We’ve made it to safety, and you look like you swallowed a lemon.”
“I do not,” I grumbled.
“Do so,” she argued. “Besides, you weren’t even injured. You don’t see me scowling at a town full of grief-stricken countryfolk.”
I exhaled wearily. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long journey and I’m eager to find an inn.”
Charlotte snorted.
