Page 29 of Beast of Blood and Roses (Dark Ever After Fairytales #1)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Rosalie

Luckily, I didn’t fall down on my face in the bathroom.

The hot water had worked wonders, washing away the lingering effects of The Witch’s Heart and the strange, sticky feeling of magic that had clung to my skin.

I stepped out of the steamy shower feeling renewed, like I’d shed more than just yesterday’s grime.

My legs felt steadier now, and the bone-deep exhaustion that had weighed me down was finally lifting. Steam fogged the mirror, but I didn’t need to see my reflection to know I looked better than I had when I’d stumbled in here.

As I toweled off and got dressed, my mind wandered back to the vision the amulet had shown me. My father looking younger, well-dressed, gambling away money he supposedly didn’t have. Something about that image nagged at me, like a murder mystery novel when I couldn’t put all the clues together.

I came out of the bathroom, steam trailing behind me, and found Colette standing rigid by the window.

Her small frame was tense and alert, her shoulders drawn tight as she peered through the glass with unusual intensity.

Beast had probably instructed her to be ready to catch me if I collapsed.

The thought made me smile despite everything.

His protectiveness was both touching and slightly overwhelming.

I headed over toward her, my bare feet silent on the cool floor. “What are you looking at?”

She startled slightly at my voice and turned away from the window quickly, too quickly. When she glanced at me, I caught a flicker of something in her eyes before she shuttered her expression. “Nothing, ma chérie .”

Something in her stance didn’t settle right with me. There was a forced casualness to her movements, the kind of studied nonchalance that screamed there was definitely something to see. My pulse quickened as unease crept up my spine.

I moved closer to the window, trying to see what had captured her attention so completely. “Colette, what’s out there?”

Her hand shot out to gently but firmly guide me away from the glass. “Please, mademoiselle . Perhaps we should go have breakfast now?”

Whatever she’d seen, she clearly didn’t want me to know about it, and it made my stomach clench.

I broke away from Colette’s grasp and rushed to the window, my chest tight with fear.

Below in the garden stood a beautiful blonde woman in jogging shorts and a white T-shirt, but everything about her screamed danger.

She wasn’t just looking up at the house.

She was staring directly at me, as if she’d been waiting for me to appear.

Her green eyes seemed to glow with an otherworldly light, holding an intensity that made my skin crawl.

There was something about her that felt wrong, something dark and magical that radiated from her like heat waves.

The air around her seemed to shimmer, and I could swear I felt her power pressing against the glass between us.

A slow, predatory smile spread across her perfect features as our eyes met. She tilted her head like a cat studying its prey, then deliberately placed her hands on her hips in a gesture that felt more like a challenge than a casual posture.

Behind me, I heard Colette’s sharp intake of breath. “ Mon Dieu ,” she whispered.

The woman below held my gaze for another long, chilling moment, her smile never wavering. Then she turned and walked away with fluid, unnatural grace, but not before giving me a little wave that felt more like a promise than a goodbye.

My blood ran cold. Whatever she was, whoever she was, I knew with bone-deep certainty that she’d come here for me.

Colette’s small hand clasped my arm with surprising strength, her fingers digging into my skin. “We need to get away from the window.” I could feel her trembling against me, fear radiating from her like heat from a fever.

“Colette, what’s wrong? Do you know that woman?” This time, I allowed her to pull me away from the window, her urgency finally breaking through my curiosity.

She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, her weathered face pale as parchment. Her eyes darted toward the window as if she expected the blonde woman to materialize inside the room.

“Please, you’re frightened.” I gently placed my hands on her shoulders, feeling the tension coiled there like wire. “Tell me who that woman was. You obviously know.”

She glanced around nervously, then escorted me to the far corner of the room, as far from the window as possible. When she spoke again, her voice was so low I had to lean in to hear her. “That was Tinker Bell.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound sharp and disbelieving in the tense air. “You mean from Peter Pan? She’s a fairy?”

Colette shook her head vigorously, her gray curls bouncing. “No, ma chérie . Tinker Bell is a witch—a powerful one. She’s the head of the Moon Coven. And she has a very dangerous history with Monsieur Bastia.”

My laughter died in my throat as the cobwebs cleared from my mind. “She’s the one that cursed all of you, isn’t she?”

“We must tell monsieur that she was here.” Colette opened the door with trembling hands.

Beast was already waiting in the hallway, fully dressed but still damp from his shower. His green eyes immediately locked onto our faces, reading the fear there with alarming accuracy. He scowled, his entire body going rigid. “What’s wrong?”

“Tinker Bell...” Colette’s lower lip trembled uncontrollably, and she had to swallow hard before continuing. “She was here. Outside, looking up at Rosalie’s window.”

The blood drained from Beast’s face, then flooded back in a wave of pure rage. I instinctively stepped back, unsettled by the sudden shift in his demeanor. Without a word, he bolted down the stairs, taking them three at a time with inhuman speed.

“Wait!” I called out desperately, but he didn’t even slow down. The front door slammed open so hard it rattled the entire frame.

Panic shot through me like lightning. I hurried down the stairs after him, my feet barely touching the steps.

“No, mademoiselle , you mustn’t!” Colette reached for me with desperate fingers, but I twisted away from her grab, my determination overriding her fear.

Whatever history they shared, whatever vendetta she held against him, I couldn’t let her destroy him or Marcel and Colette. My chest burned with fierce protectiveness. I had to protect him, even though I didn’t fully understand what I was protecting him from.

Beast was ahead of me, moving like a freight train barreling down on its target.

His powerful strides ate up the distance between him and Tinker Bell, who continued jogging at a leisurely pace as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

But I could see the lethal precision in her movements, the way she held herself like a coiled snake ready to strike.

She turned around quickly, her blonde hair whipping behind her as she narrowed her green eyes at Beast. The air around her seemed to crackle with barely contained power. What if she was going to cast a spell on him? Or seriously hurt him?

Terror slid down my throat as I realized he was too far away for me to reach him in time. What if my magic could reach him from here? I skidded to a halt and aimed my palms toward his retreating form, not sure if my magic would work from this distance, but knowing I had to try.

Protect him, I commanded silently, pouring every ounce of desperation into that single thought.

I held out my palms toward Beast’s distant figure, my hands shaking as I desperately tried to draw on whatever power lived inside me.

I wasn’t even sure how to do it. My magic had worked instinctively against the wolves, but I’d never tried to project it this far before.

I couldn’t lose him. The intensity of that need surprised me, but I didn’t have time to examine why the thought of him getting hurt made my chest feel like it was tearing apart.

Something small fluttered in my chest like a feather caught in a breeze, a tickle of sensation that grew stronger and more insistent, as if something ancient and powerful had been awakened by my desperation.

The feeling spread outward like wildfire, tingles rolling down my arms in waves before concentrating in my fingertips until they burned with electric energy.

The air in front of me began to ripple and shimmer, then raced toward Beast like the expanding rings that form when a pebble hits still water. I watched in amazement and terror as my magic—raw, untrained, but fierce with protective intent—rushed to shield him.

Panting hard, I collapsed onto my knees on the rough gravel, my legs giving out completely.

Every muscle in my body felt like it had been wrung dry, leaving me shaking and weak.

I wasn’t sure if my desperate magic had been enough, but through my blurred vision, I could make out the faint outline of a transparent shield shimmering around Beast like a soap bubble made of starlight.

Tinker Bell’s predatory smile faltered as she stared at the protective barrier. Then her green eyes slowly shifted away from Beast and focused directly on me, and my blood turned to ice. Recognition flickered across her perfect features, followed by something that looked disturbingly like hunger.

Wind began to whip around her with supernatural force, making her blonde hair stream behind her like liquid gold and her white T-shirt and jogging shorts ripple and snap in the unnatural gale.

A brilliant golden aura began flowing around her like liquid light, growing brighter and more menacing with each step she took toward me.

The power radiating from her made the air itself feel heavy and electric.

Beast let out a thunderous roar as he pounded his fists against the inside of my shield with desperate fury. I could see his mouth moving, probably shouting my name, but the barrier muffled the sound.

Tinker Bell approached me with deliberate slowness, the wind continuing to swirl around her in an impressive display of magical power.

Each step she gained made my heart hammer harder against my ribs.

I had protected Beast, but I didn’t have an ounce of strength left to protect myself.

My magic felt tapped out, like a well that had run completely dry.