Before Midnight (16 page)

Suddenly Etienne knew what Loupe was standing in. He raised his gaze to the knife-wielder’s eyes.

“Your Highness,” she said hoarsely. “This is not what it looks like.”

Etienne didn’t interrupt. He just stared at her, willing himself to maintain control. The temper that had been growing as his wolf faded was ready to burst. Slowly he reached for his sword and, feeling the comforting weight of the blade, drew it from its hilt.

“Prince Etienne, we only just arrived home from your ball late last night. After we awoke, we couldn’t find my stepdaughter anywhere.” Seeming to grow comfortable with her story, the woman straightened her spine and pointed at Loupe with the blade. “We finally discovered her down here in this hidden room. I swear to you, we knew nothing of her crimes until this morning.”

Her lies flowed like honey from her lips and Etienne couldn’t help but be amazed at how easily she tried to manipulate him. He glanced at Loupe, standing frozen with fear in the blood-coated tub. She stared into his eyes and his heart clenched as he realized that she was afraid of him too.

“Loupe,” he whispered.

She straightened at how softly he said her name. He gave her a tender smile, wanting to reassure her.

“Step away from her,” he said to the older woman. “And put the weapon down.”

“Your Highness, you don’t understand,” the woman insisted. “She is not the meek maiden you think she is.” She held her head high. “She is a werewolf! Come out to the stables with us and see how the horse is terrified of her. I will prove to you—”

“Put the knife down and step away from her.”

Two women standing behind the woman, presumably her daughters, glanced from him to Loupe to their mother and back again. They seemed unsure of what to do.

“Mother, perhaps you should do as he says,” the red haired one said hesitantly.

“Shut up, Arabelle!” The matron of the house glared at Etienne. “She is a werewolf. You are the prince of this kingdom, you owe us your protection! Werewolves are murderous beasts of death and destruction. The full moon will rise tonight and tear the beast from inside Loupe’s sniveling form. What will you do when she is rampaging through your village, killing your people and swallowing them whole? Women and children will die, men will be lost, and all because you wouldn’t let me put an end to her worthless—”

Her words died on her tongue as if she’d suddenly turned into a statue. Etienne could barely think he was so angry. With every word she’d uttered, every sway of the knife in Loupe’s direction, his rage grew until he was certain he would explode any second. His vision had gone red, the rush of blood in his ears nearly drowning out the woman’s voice. It wasn’t until one of the younger women behind her reached for a knife from the table of instruments that Etienne realized something was wrong.

“Your eyes have given you away…Your
Majesty
,” the woman whispered.

“He’s a werewolf too!” her daughter shrieked.

Etienne cursed as he realized that he’d let his rage go unchecked. Apparently, his wolf was not so weak that his eyes hadn’t changed when he’d started to lose control.

Loupe screamed as the woman swept behind her, placing the blade at her throat while keeping her gaze locked on Etienne’s.

“Release her,” Etienne shouted, “and I will spare your lives.”

The woman threw back her head and laughed. “Oh, you are too funny, Your Highness.” Her hand shifted and Loupe whimpered as a sliver of blood appeared on her throat. “If your sword so much as twitches in my direction, I’ll slit her throat from ear to ear.”

Nausea swam up Etienne’s throat at the images the woman’s threat conveyed. His temper surged, but he knew better than to test the woman. He let his sword fall to his side.

“What do you want?” he snapped.

“I’m so pleased you asked,” the woman said sweetly. Her demeanor had changed in an instant with the sensed opportunity for blackmail. Etienne clenched his hand into a fist. The woman was a true psychopath. “Arabelle, step closer to the prince, my dear.”

The woman not holding a knife stepped toward him, her eyes a little too wide.

“Give her your sword, Your Highness.”

Etienne glared at her as if he could set her on fire with just his gaze. The girl flinched, but didn’t move. He did as the woman’s mother commanded.

“You are going to take my daughter Arabelle to the palace,” she told him.

The daughter in question jerked her gaze to her mother, apparently shocked by her suggestion. She recovered quickly, her face a façade of calm when she turned back to Etienne.

He sneered at her. “As my prisoner?”

The woman’s mother laughed softly. “No, Your Highness. As your bride.”

All trace of humor left him as he stared in shock. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am. You see, I tire of living on the outskirts of the kingdom. And the hunting just isn’t what it used to be.” She smirked. “I dare say that living in the palace will be preferable.”

Etienne turned his attention to Loupe. She seemed utterly defeated standing there, helpless and bloody. Looking at her, he imagined he could feel her pain. Rage boiled in his veins as he turned back to his blackmailer.

“How can you treat her like this?” he demanded. “She is your daughter.”

“
Step
daughter,” the matron corrected him, her lip curling in disdain. “She is nothing like my true daughters. The way she cowers and whimpers is disgusting. I come from a warrior people, we do not look fondly on weakness.”

As her stepmother spoke, Loupe swayed as if she were dizzy, and he couldn’t help but glance down at the growing pool of blood at her feet. He wondered how much she’d lost already.

“At least let me bring Loupe with us so that my physician can attend to her,” he asked quietly, hating the begging note that had entered his voice. He stared into her stepmother’s eyes, searching for the faintest hint of compassion. He found none.

“Loupe will remain here to ensure your cooperation,” she said coldly. “If you do not arrive back here in the morning with a wedding certificate, I will kill the little bitch and throw her body into the castle forest to be eaten by your very own wolves.”

“There will be suspicion among the people and the court as to why there was not a large wedding,” Etienne pointed out, attempting to keep the desperation out of his voice.

“There will be a large wedding, do not worry,” the stepmother said sweetly. “That will come in due time. But I want that marriage contract signed today, and delivered to my hands by morning. That way I’ll know you can’t back out at the last moment.”

“You cannot seriously expect me to live as a married man with your daughter,” Etienne sputtered. He stared at Arabelle. “Do you seriously intend to share a marriage bed with a werewolf? A person you know was blackmailed into the marriage using your sister’s life as leverage?”

Arabelle frowned as if he’d said something distasteful. “Don’t be ridiculous! I have no intention of sharing your bed.” She shuddered as if the thought made her physically ill. “You will sleep on the floor like the beast you are.”

Loupe’s eyes widened and she met Etienne’s gaze. He saw something in the depths of her eyes that he hadn’t seen since he’d arrived. A hint of rebellion.

“I love you, Loupe,” he said softly.

Her breath hitched, the flicker turning to a spark. She straightened her spine, her gaze still locked on his. For just a second, hope flared in Etienne that his mother had been right about Loupe. Perhaps she, like his great-great-grandmother, could only be pushed so far…

“Enough of this!”

Loupe cried out as her stepmother pressed the blade harder to her neck, causing more blood to trickle down her throat.

“Danette!” her stepmother barked. “Tie her up and keep an eye on her. I’m going into town to arrange for wedding announcements to be sent home.” Her lips curved into a cruel mockery of a smile. “I want my brothers to be here for the post-wedding hunt.”

Chapter 11

Loupe watched Etienne leave with Arabelle and her heart nearly crawled out of her chest to follow him.

He’d said he loved her.

He was a werewolf too.

An entire world of new possibilities had opened up, full of hope and happiness. She wanted that world. Loupe clenched her teeth. She would have that world.

It took every ounce of her strength to keep her posture calm, her face schooled into the same mask of defeat and pain she’d been wearing all morning. The new determination inside her steeled her nerves, dulled her pain. Her mind moved above her physical circumstances until she could see the situation with a cooler, calculating mind. Suddenly her stepsister appeared less threatening, a mere obstacle in Loupe’s path despite the weapon she wielded. Loupe had a weapon too.

“This day could not have possibly turned out any better,” her stepmother breathed, excitement lending a hush to her voice. “Who knew our prince was a werewolf? Oh, I should have seen it. They were always so awfully protective of wolves.”

“How were we supposed to know?” Danette muttered. “I’ve seen them all on a full moon, completely human. I thought werewolves couldn’t stay human during a full moon?”

“Apparently our information was incomplete,” Madame Tessier mused. “No matter though, this will be perfect.”

“Unless the prince decides Loupe isn’t worth the trouble,” Danette pointed out, glaring at Loupe.

“I know a besotted man when I see one. He will do as we’ve said. Besides, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to send for my brothers so we can have a proper wedding feast. On the next full moon, we’ll insist that the prince and his lovely new bride come to visit us.”

Loupe’s eyes widened at the excited light in her stepmother’s eyes. Madame Tessier stepped toward the tub, staring Loupe down, her gaze like a physical force.

“There will be a tragic accident. In the middle of the night, under the light of the full moon, my wicked stepdaughter will lose control and change into a monstrous wolf. Poor Etienne will have no chance.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant,” Danette breathed.

Madame Tessier nodded. “And afterwards, I will only be too pleased to take the perpetrator to the king and queen, offering up the life of my stepdaughter—the
loup garou
that killed their son.”

A moment ago, hearing those words on her stepmother’s lips would have petrified Loupe. Now, she used that threat to fuel her anger, strengthen her resolve. She thought of all the years she’d taken their abuse, cowered from their cruelty. They’d frightened her for too long with their easy violence and complete lack of human decency. Well, if she was going to die, then she’d do it defending the man who’d been there for her when she needed him. The man she loved.

Not wanting to give herself away, Loupe kept her eyes down, her brow wrinkled with worry. She’d stand a better chance of escape after her stepmother left.

Madame Tessier climbed the ladder in a whoosh of skirts. “I’m going to send for the rest of the family. With any luck, they haven’t sailed too far yet.” She glanced back at Loupe. “Keep an eye on her, Danette. If she tries to move—stab her.”

Fury crackled and sparked over Loupe’s nerves, energizing her in a way she’d never felt before. It took every ounce of her self control not to let it show, to keep her head lowered and her eyes on the floor. After Loupe was certain Madame Tessier had left the house, she whimpered loudly.

“Oh, will you shut up!” Danette snapped. “It’s bad enough I have to sit here babysitting you without having to listen to you moan.”

“If I could just clean my foot and bandage it properly, I’m sure I could remain silent for you,” Loupe whispered, keeping her eyes lowered to the floor.

“No.”

Loupe gritted her teeth against the urge to snarl at Danette. “I’ve lost a lot of blood, Danette,” she said, trying to be reasonable. “If I don’t bandage it soon, I could die. What leverage would you have then? What scapegoat would you have for the prince’s death?”

Her voice broke on the last word, but Loupe held herself together. Etienne would not be injured. Not while she still lived.

“Oh, fine,” Danette grumbled. “Let’s get on with it then.”

Loupe quietly led the way up the ladder to the kitchen and the medicine cabinet. After gathering the herbs and bandages she would need, she filled a bowl with warm water. As she cleaned her wound, she glanced up at Danette.

Her stepsister was staring at the wound in fascination. “Wow, I really shot your toe clean off. What a shot. There isn’t even any bone from the toe left, just a hole. I must have taken it off at the joint.”

The fact that her stepsister could stare at the wound, talk about it with no trace of guilt or pity in her voice, only strengthened Loupe’s resolve to do anything necessary to escape. The anger that she’d kept such a tight leash on for so long loosened. If the wolf escaped, so be it. Let her stepsister pay the price for her cruelty.

No, she told herself firmly. I cannot give up control. Not until I’ve found Etienne and made sure he’s safe.

Keeping her concentration on cleaning the wound, Loupe tried to think. Her strength had returned with the rush of her anger, but she didn’t know how long that would last. If she was going to make a move to get her freedom, it had to be now.