Page 53 of The Agent and the Outlaw
Van Helsing eyed the vampires apprehensively.
“I don’t suppose you gentlemen are stopping us because one of you is in need of a doctor?”
Frederick grinned, showing a great deal of fang, and cast his gaze over me.
“All in good time.”
17
CHARLOTTE
November 19, 1767
The Wild Rose,Gévaudan
After Antoine left,I stared at the door for a good long while and let the tears fall. I cried for the cutting things Antoine had said to me. I cried for the guilt about the horrible things I had said to him. I cried for the loss of my normal, human life. I cried about the shame of my former husband. I cried because I felt like I was mourning the loss of something new and beautiful with Antoine, despite all the reasons why we shouldn’t be anywhere near each other. I cried because for those precious moments in bed with him, I finally felt like I’d found what I’d been searching for with all the lovers I’d taken since my husband.
I’m only sorry that you were another wrong along the way.Was that what I was? Was that what we were? Would he only look back on our time together with regret? To my knowledge, I’d never been someone’s mistake before. The revelation smarted.
In the midst of my glorious wallow, I felt acute pangs of hunger accompanied by an unladylike rumble from my stomach. Darkness had fallen, and I found myself ravenous with a hunger I didn’t think would be easily sated. Deciding food was more important than my misery at present, I sniffed and wiped my eyes, straightened my shabby travel-worn dress, and made my way downstairs to the tavern.
The Wild Rose was busy, which suited me just fine. The din of drinkers and diners would help distract me from my ill humor. I approached the front and asked for whatever meat they had on offer, roasted if necessary but preferably rare, plus bread and vegetables. I also bought myself an entire bottle of wine, ignoring the disdainful look of the innkeeper. In times like these, I truly missed Daphne and her impressive wine cellar.
Daphne!
Dieu, I’d almost forgotten. She was just in the next town over! I needed to get to her and explain the situation. Perhaps she would know what to do about, well,everything.
When my food arrived, I ate as quickly as I could without attracting attention. I took a swig of the wine, then thought better of it and corked the bottle. I needed to figure out how to get out of town unnoticed and getting belligerently drunk—while amusing—would make that a degree more difficult. I paid the innkeeper, who continued to glare at me, and returned to my room to pack.
I didn’t have much, but I was able to stash my meager belongings and remaining supplies in my pockets and bundle up in my cloak. Only then did I fully realize that my things were the only things that remained. I knew Antoine had left, but it struck me too late that Dr. Van Helsing had, as well.
I was disappointed that she had departed without at least saying goodbye, but knew it came with the territory of being the most formidable doctor for supernatural sufferers—she was constantly in demand.
As I left the inn, I debated my options for travel. Antoine had taken Tartuffe, and I didn’t see any other horses available. The mail coach wouldn’t arrive for another few days, and I could take my chances trying to hitch a ride along the road, but because of the infamous reputation for the beast and the dangers in the surrounding woods, other riders and travelers were scarce. Unless I wanted to walk the fifteen miles to the next town where Daphne and Étienne were lodging, it appeared I was stuck in Gévaudan.
Or was I?
Last night, I’d been able to run through the woods at breakneck speed and barely feel fatigue. Did I dare try again? Could I make the journey without being seen by anyone? If I could bundle and tie my clothes to my back, I could find a secluded spot to transform and dress before anyone would be the wiser. A thrill went through me at the thought—almost like I felt when I was a child sneaking sips of father’s cognac.Positively wicked!
I reasoned I didn’t have much of a choice. If I wanted to get to Daphne and Étienne, this would be it. I hurried down the main street to the gate, nodding at the two guards posted out front.
“My husband sent word that our carriage has been repaired,” I said with a smile. “Do open the gate for me, gentlemen, so that I may depart.”
One of them grumbled something about it not being safe for me to wander through the woods at night, but they raised the gate at my request. I warily eyed the rotting wolf heads on pikes outside the town wall. I didn’t think it would be wise to tempt fate and come back to Gévaudan.
I walked quickly, pulling my cloak tightly around me, not because I felt particularly cold, but because it would seem odd to the guards out front if I didn’t. The moon was high and full, casting a beautiful silvery light on the trees and road ahead. It hadn’t rained in a couple of days, and with the winter chill setting in, I suspected the first snow of the season would soon fall. When I’d gone about a mile, I drifted away from the road and into a thicket of bushes. I undressed, bundled my clothes tightly and slung them over my shoulder, hoping my plan would work.
Taking a deep breath, I stilled my mind and reached for that place inside me—finding it at once peaceful and wild. Then came the explosion of pain. I screamed, but it came out as a howl, and despite the transformation being just as unbearable as before, it seemed to happen quicker this time.
I looked down at my claws and my chest, bundle of clothing still firmly tied, and took off at a gallop. The dark forest blurred past in streaks of green, silver, blue, and black.Dieu, but it feels so good to run!There was a freedom to it that I’d never experienced, and it was so satisfying, it felt absolutely sinful. Faster and faster I raced, reaching out with my enhanced senses to see and hear and smell everything around me. It was impossible to take it all in, and yet impossible for me not to.
All at once, I caught the scent of several familiar things that made me stop short. I guessed I’d gone about eight or nine miles south from Gévaudan, and through the undergrowth, it arose—death, rot, black powder.The bêtes.Also, herbs, wool, lime blossom.Van Helsing.More came at me—horse, leather, apples.Antoine.Then, just at the edge of my awareness—earth. Blood. Musk.The beast—or rather, the man in black.
My hackles raised of their own accord, and a low, angry growl emanated from my throat. Apparently, I’d just come upon a rather interesting little get-together. The animal part of me raged with a fierce need to protect my friend and my lover.
I listened closely and heard the distinct sounds of voices a little ways off, deeper into the woods. Creeping silently toward them, I came upon a low hill, into which was set a cave. A fire crackled at the entrance and two of thebêtesstood guard out front. Further in, I could see two soldiers standing over Van Helsing, who was bound and gagged, seated up against the wall of the cave. After a moment, I spotted Antoine—unconscious, covered in blood, crumpled upon the floor. I sensed his slowing heartbeat; he was weakening. Panic and despair unleashed something primal in me, and I fought to maintain control of my senses.
“Easy now,petite louve. If you charge in there alone, they will surely kill you.”
