Beastly Beautiful Read online

  She tried to find some sort of comfort to be taken from these memories. If Sir went to such elaborate lengths to keep his condition secret and to keep himself in at night, surely that meant he didn’t want to hurt anybody, that he was disturbed by his state and sought to control it. She remembered his restless dreams at night, his heavy drinking. Was he haunted by his own fears and deeds?

  She said, “If what you say of him is true, I still don’t believe he would willingly harm anyone. He has had plenty of opportunities to—to devour me, and didn’t.” It felt odd speaking in Sir of such a way, much as she would speak of some wild, senseless animal.

  “I don’t say he means harm, and I don’t say he doesn’t. All I know is my brother lies in a hospital bed, injured and nearly ripped to shreds by the attack of a man he saw merge into an enormous black cat. I know what he described to me, and I know the fear I saw in his eyes. He would never make such a story up. He saw the panther return to an upper floor apartment in the Heights complex, climb the fire escape, and disappear through a window. I think you know whose window it was.”

  Unwillingly, Teagan remembered the draft from behind the curtains in Sir’s den, the open window letting out onto the fire escape. “No,” she whispered, wanting to deny every word he spoke, even as her own traitorous heart confirmed them. She recalled how disturbed Sir had been the next morning when he came to visit her apartment, how anxious he had been to know she had carried out all her assigned duties. Had he feared then that she had failed to lock the study door, that he had escaped during the night to do some damage?

  She replayed that night in her mind. She had locked the study door, hadn’t she? She remembered taking the key out from under the silver box. She was sure she had inserted it in the lock… But had she actually heard the click? She couldn’t remember. It was beyond horrifying to imagine such a small slip on her part could’ve caused the near death of this man’s brother. But the thought struck her, if it was horrifying to her, how guilt laden must Sir feel? She knew little of lycanthropes and shape shifters, but surely to be taken over by vicious animal instincts must be very hard on any decent man. Hadn’t he said something during that restless night on the couch about control? About how he was learning to control it but sometimes couldn’t?

  Her captor had fallen silent, giving her time to think. She was grateful for that, even as she hated him for giving her such disturbing news, for holding her hostage, and now, for plotting to use her to reach Sir.

  In defeated tones, she asked the questions she needed explained, delved for the answers she must hear, even if it hurt her to do so. “Why did he attack your brother?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Why does a creature like that do anything? I suppose when the beast takes him over, he doesn’t know what he does.”

  “And does that not stir you to some pity? The idea that just maybe he doesn’t want to do violence, but doesn’t know how to stop it?”

  His unsympathetic tone was her answer. “Well, I know how to stop it,” he said. “I know how to silence the beast permanently.” The fanatical note that crept into his voice when he spoke of Sir was frightening. Teagan sensed she was dealing with a man hovering on the edge of insanity. After all she had learned, she was feeling dangerously close to that precipice herself.

  A noise from behind them broke into her thoughts. The patio doors creaking open. As one, she and her captor whirled to confront the figure of Sir stepping out into the night.

  Chapter 26

  “What goes on here?” Sir asked, abandoning the light filled room behind him to move out onto the patio. Behind him the double doors swung closed, shutting out the comforting security of light and laughter on the other side of the glass. Teagan saw recognition flare in his eyes, then something else, anger, sparked in their depths as he took in the scene before him.

  “You?” he said lowly, sweeping a contemptuous gaze over Teagan’s captor. “I thought I told you I didn’t want to see you around again, or listen to any more of your lunatic jabbering.” His gaze shifted to Teagan, seemingly dismissing the man with a gun who held her in his grasp. “Are you all right? Has this idiot hurt you?” Despite the calm in his tone, true concern stood out in his eyes, causing Teagan’s heart to leap. So the man of ice did have feelings after all. Feelings that evidently included fear for her safety. It was a reassuring discovery.

  She nodded. “I’m okay. I don’t think he means to hurt me. It’s you he wants.”

  The man holding her had apparently had enough of being talked past. “That’s right, I’ve come for you, you monster. Just as I told you I would.” He had switched the aim of his gun, Teagan saw, from her to Sir. Her heart leapt into her throat. Her captor continued in a tone driven by madness. “I tried to talk to you that day in your office, and on other occasions before, but you didn’t want to hear. You simply brushed me off. I gave you a chance to do what was decent and finish yourself off before you could harm another, but you chose to disregard my warnings. You preferred to keep your life, even in your vicious half-animal state.”

  Sir’s voice was cold, deadly. “If I’m the vicious animal, how is it you are the one holding an innocent woman hostage? Are you too afraid to face me alone?”

  Teagan’s captor gave a wild laugh. Something about Sir’s presence seemed to push him over the edge of reason. “What? Give you the chance to meet me alone on a full moon night, sink your teeth into me, and rip out my entrails? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Very much,” Sir said dryly. “Shall we set a date?”

  His enemy snarled. “I’ve had enough of your mockery and your arrogant lack of repentance. What you’ve done to my brother, scarring him for life, means nothing to you. What you will do to others—have already done, for all I know—means even less. Well, I mean to finish it, once and for all.”

  Sir didn’t have the stance or expression of a man threatened by a lunatic gunman. “Then why don’t you?” he challenged, stepping closer. “Why don’t you pull the trigger? Maybe because you lack the courage?”

  “Stay back!” his enemy commanded agitatedly. He waved his gun for emphasis. “No, I’m not afraid to kill you. You could say I’ve built up an eagerness for it. But I don’t want it to be like this. Not a secret killing in the shadows. I want the world to know why, to hear you confess in public.”

  Suddenly, he gave Teagan a rough shove, his hatred for Sir apparently making him forget any sympathies he may have possessed toward her. “Go,” he ordered her, pushing her away from him. “Get inside and tell the others to come out. The whole party. Our honored Mr. Rotham has an announcement to make.”

  Teagan hesitated, her gaze torn between the two men on the rooftop.

  “Teagan, don’t move,” Sir ordered deliberately, never taking his eyes off the other man. “He wants to do this before witnesses. As long as we deny him that satisfaction, he won’t harm us.”

  “Don’t be too sure,” the other man cut in. “Your destruction is my ultimate goal, and I’m not that particular about how it happens.”

  Teagan licked her lips and looked to Sir. If he ordered her to defy a crazed gunman, she would do it. Something about the coolness of his expression and the confidence in his voice lent her the courage to do anything he asked. But he didn’t. Maybe it was the seriousness of the other man’s threat. Maybe it was concern for her personal safety. She didn’t know. Either way, he hesitated for the briefest of instants, before giving a permissive nod. “Best go inside then, Teagan,” he said. “Don’t come out again. I’ll handle this.”

  Teagan’s heart plunged. When he said he’d handle it, she knew what he meant. He’d sacrifice himself to bring the gunman down. He’d allow himself to be murdered, maybe for her, or maybe because a part of him believed the madman’s suggestion it would be best to end his life. The only way to make things right. Teagan couldn’t allow that.

  An unlikely combination of fear, anger, and yes, love, sent her mind racing desperately for a solution, fo
r a path of escape. On the other side of the glass doors the banquet wore on, the faint sounds of filtered music and laughter making it plain their plight hadn’t been noticed. Other than the three of them, the rooftop was empty; no help was to be found there. There wasn’t even anything at hand that might be used as a weapon against the gunman if the opportunity arose.

  And then an idea lit in her head. The construction scaffolding. She had no notion whether she could reach it before the madman turned his gun on her, had no idea if she possessed the strength to budge it anyway, but she was out of choices. For a split second, she hovered indecisively near the doorway and then, just as the gunman turned a questioning glance her way, she made her decision.

  With a wild dive, she threw herself into the scaffolding, sending the flimsy structure tottering. For a long, terrible second, it seemed to wobble uncertainly, and then, as Teagan held her breath, it descended, falling with a crash over both Sir and the surprised gunman. He hadn’t anticipated her action in time to get out a shot.

  Now as both men scrambled to free themselves from the rubble, Teagan feared her action had been a pointless gesture. Sir was on his knees, the same as his enemy, and the gunman still had his weapon. Or did he?

  As the lunatic searched frantically through the surrounding bits of wood and metal, Teagan caught sight of a small black object glinting in the moonlight among the debris. She wasn’t the only one who saw it. Sir made a lunge for the weapon, arriving a moment too slowly. The other man was already snatching it up from the floor. Sir kicked viciously at his hands, sending the gun flying from his grasp and sailing out over the edge of the nearby railing to disappear into the darkness below.

  Its owner, however, was unwilling to give up. Even unarmed, the psychotic gleam in his eyes and the violent intent emanating from him like heat from the flame made him a formidable opponent. He may have lacked Sir’s size, but his desperate fury lent him strength. Barehanded, he launched himself against Sir, tackling him to the floor, where they grappled. Briefly Sir had his hands on the other man’s throat, but the smaller man managed to throw him off.

  With surprising persistence, he attacked again, lashing out with a kick to the midsection Sir easily avoided. Apparently failing to see he fought a battle he couldn’t hope to win, or perhaps simply not caring, the smaller man lunged again, once more knocking them both to the floor.

  Teagan had seen enough. As the men wrestled atop the snow-covered bricks, she looked around her for something with which to join the fight. A sculpted centerpiece atop one of the near tables provided the only weapon in sight, and seizing it up, she leapt forward, planning to dash it over the head of their enemy. Only she was too late.

  During the split second she had looked away, Sir managed to gain the upper hand over his opponent, and to wrestle his way free of the lunatic’s grip. Teagan looked up just in time to see him grab the other man by the throat and toss him with a heavy crash into the railing along the edge of the roof. The rail groaned under his flailing weight and then unexpectedly, gave way.

  Chapter 27

  It all happened so fast, Teagan had no time to react. With a sharp snap the railing collapsed, and both it and the screaming gunman disappeared over the side of the building. Teagan scrambled to the edge to look after them, but by the time she reached the edge of the roof, they had already plunged into the darkness below. It was a long, long way down. Too far to hear the sounds of their crashing to the pavement of the street, but it was a scene Teagan could imagine all too vividly.

  She hadn’t felt weak all the time she’d been in action. She’d been concentrating too hard on how to save Sir and herself for the horror of the situation to fully take hold of her. Now, however, she became aware her knees were shaking, and not from the cold. Her legs felt as if they might collapse beneath her at any moment. Then Sir’s comforting arm was around her, propping her up.

  “It’s all right,” he said. “It’s all over now.”

  For the space of a breath, Teagan allowed herself to believe it truly was. And then the glass doors behind them crashed open and a flood of questioning, shoving party guests descended out onto the patio.

  What had happened? A scream had been heard! One of the table servers had looked out through the glass just in time to see two men grappling and one of them crashing over the side of the building. The police and an ambulance were being called at this very moment. There was such a commotion of questions and exclamations as the curious guests caught sight of the broken railing that Teagan was at a loss for words. Luckily, no one was looking to her for an explanation.

  Every eye was fixed on Sir, the man who had been seen wrestling with the poor stranger who’d fallen to his death. The agitated crowd of ladies and gentlemen surged forward, so that Teagan was pushed back against the wall close to the doors. Glad to be forgotten and too emotionally drained to care how Sir dealt with the barrage of questions, she sank to a seat on the cold ground.

  Her head spun. How had this happened? A few minutes ago she had been inside in the light and the warmth of a grand party. People had been laughing, eating, dancing the night away. And now, so suddenly all that was forgotten. Death, violent and unexpected, had replaced normality with chaos. And Sir was at the heart of it all. Lycanthrope, the man had called Sir, and he had not denied it. But Sir, a werebeast? It seemed so impossible…and yet something inside her had to accept it. With that final answer, all the pieces of the puzzle began to fall together.

  As if from a distance, she heard Sir’s voice in the background. The shouts and questions fell silent as he began to speak. Everyone, save Teagan, crowded close to hear his story. At first, she tuned out his explanation, lost in her own dazed fog. And then, scattered pieces of what he was saying began to register in her mind.

  A terrible mishap. A strange, confused man appearing out of the gloom, intent on ending his life by throwing himself over the side of the building. Sir had tried to stop him, had tackled him even, but in their struggling, the unfortunate man had managed to free himself and had dived into the railing and plunged to the street below. He kept using words like “accident” and “mentally unstable.”

  What was he talking about? This had been no accident. In disbelief, she listened to his story, and stunned by his lies, watched silently as the men and women around them moved in to offer him comforting words after his ordeal, and to praise him for the heroic thing he had at least tried to do in attempting to save the lunatic bent on self destruction.

  Sir was very generous. He insisted they mustn’t judge the poor man too harshly. They could have no idea what he had been through or what desperation had driven him to take his own life.

  His tone was so steady, his demeanor so calm, Teagan could almost believe her mind had invented the whole terrible scene that had played out before her. Certainly, no one else was questioning Sir’s explanation. Even the table server who had witnessed, through the window, the end of the struggle was ready to allow his first interpretation had been mistaken. He now understood what had seemed at first like a fight was really only the frantic efforts of one brave man trying to save another.

  Teagan pressed her hands over her face. She was hardly aware anymore of the icy wind cutting through her dress or of the cold shivers rippling over her. Werewolves, violence, lies… This whole evening had been a nightmare. Surely if she waited, any minute now she would wake up and find herself safe in her bed where she belonged.

  The sudden crunch of a footfall beside her, and then a soft, light weight descended to blanket her with warmth. Looking up, she found herself gazing into the face of Sir. Without meeting her eyes, he busied himself with settling his tuxedo jacket over her bared shoulders.

  “Snow’s falling again,” he said quietly. “Be a shame to get that nice dress wet.”

  He was right. All around them, fat white flakes, temporarily interrupted, had again begun to drift down, driving many of the excited party back indoors. Most were jabbering about calling for their cars now that the banquet was
as good as ended. A few planned on rushing down to the street to watch the scene unfolding. Even now, wailing sirens could be heard in the distance.

  A sudden thought struck Teagan. Sir seemed to think of it at the same time. “He won’t set them straight on what happened,” he reassured. “Nobody could survive a fall like that and live to talk about it.”

  “No, you made sure of that, didn’t you?” Her cold question came out weak and shaky.

  A flash of anger lit his eyes. “And you would’ve had me handle him differently? Through reasoning, no doubt?” His tone was sarcastic.

  “Was that so out of the question?”

  “Yes. You were there. You saw him. There’s no reasoning with a lunatic.”

  “Maybe you didn’t care to try because it was in your interests to silence him. Dead men tell no tales and all that.” They were cruel words, but she wasn’t certain he didn’t deserve them. She shuddered, remembering both the burning hatred in the dead man’s eyes as he confronted Sir, and then how his expression had turned to one of horror as he’d plunged off the side of the rooftop.

  Sir must have misinterpreted her shivering, for he tucked his coat more closely around her. “You don’t know what you’re saying,” he said in a more patient tone than she could ever remember him using with her before. “You’ve had a difficult night, being threatened by a crazed gunman and then witnessing a violent death. And to think only yesterday I was promising you a magical evening.” His easy tone only disturbed her more. How could he be so casual about all this? Then again, if the words of the blue-coated man, who now lay dead below, were true, Sir had already had ample opportunity to accustom himself to violence.