The Beast (30 page)

Aleksander glared at the other Hunters, his eyes sending unspoken warnings. As Belle reached for the door, he looked back to her and held her eyes until the second the door closed. She took a deep breath, settling and preparing herself, then turned around.

Gastone spoke first. Anger radiated from him. “What the hell was that?”

“Golly,” said Jack, looking at her with wide eyes. “I never thought I’d say this to a lady, but you’ve got some serious balls—”

Jean smacked the back of his head.

“You could’ve been killed,” Gastone went on like he hadn’t spoken.

“She could’ve gotten us all killed,” Nicolas added, but it was more of a matter-of-fact statement than one of accusation.

“No, I know him,” Belle piped in before anyone else could. “I knew he wouldn’t have hurt me.”

“Bull—” Gastone’s finger went up like he was about to truly give her a verbal thrashing, but he stopped himself. He closed his eyes, balling his hand into a fist.

Henri picked up where he left off. “He does not seem like the civilized prince you described to us.”

Gastone pointed at her father, indicating that he’d taken the words from his mouth.

“It is him. He’s just confused,” Belle said to her father. He was the only one she had to convince. “A lot has happened to him in such a short amount of time, but I know the man
inside
of the beast. He is a good man.”

A snort of derision turned everyone’s attention to Bishop Sauvage. “A flight of fancy from a female reaching her childbearing years, nothing more.” The comment was such a slap in the face, Belle found herself almost dumbfounded. She risked her life for the church and this was how they saw her? The Bishop preached further, “His very existence is a blight against God. You must do your duty!”

“No!” Belle shouted, starting to lose her temper. “You are wrong about him and killing him, at the very least, would be an act against the Vakrein crown. Would you risk open war?”

“If it must be done, then so be it!” Bishop Sauvage’s face was beat red at this point, spit flying with his words. Father Sinclair stood back, unease rolling off of him.

“That’s enough,” Henri interrupted, stopping the escalating argument. “I do not know what the correct course of action is, but it does not need to be decided right now. We will revisit this after we’ve all had time to think it through.” Henri’s eyes darted to each person, waiting for objections that would never come. “Bishop, Father, I’ll ride with you into town. I have some business there.”

“Merci. I believe that is best,” Father Sinclair said, speaking for the first time.

Henri let the clergymen leave first. Bishop Sauvage looked down his nose at Belle as he went. Henri, however, paused just long enough to grab her hand and stare meaningfully into her eyes. Belle didn’t know if he was trying to tell her something, but either way she knew what she had to do.

“Doc,” Belle said quietly so that her voice wouldn’t carry down the hall. The Hunters tilted their heads to listen. “For general anesthesia, do you use Chloroform or Diethyl Ether?”

“Chloroform, of course,” he said like the question was an affront, which Belle assumed was a doctor thing. “How do you know about general anesthesia?”

“She reads a lot,” Nicolas said, his eyes widening for emphasis. The others chuckled and nodded.

Belle frowned, but otherwise ignored them. “The
British Medical Journal
had an article on the use of it. I’d like to test one of those uses presently.”

The doctor curled an eyebrow, then looked sidelong at her. He unscrewed the silver flask in his hand and tipped it to his lips. After a gulp, he asked, “You wish to go into a chemically induced sleep?”

“What?!” exclaimed Gastone with all the appall of a spinster listening to scandalous gossip.

“Not just me, the Prince as well.” She glared at Gastone, imploring him to keep his voice down, in case the churchmen hadn’t left yet. “In order for us to communicate, we must moon dream. For that to happen, we must both be asleep.”

“Then wait till tonight and go to sleep naturally.” Gastone looked as though he wanted to shake her. Every muscle in his body was tightened to the hilt.

“I fear we may not have time. The Bishop is out for blood.” Belle looked to her Hunters, making her case. “He does not care if I get the answers I need from Prince Aleksander first.”

“What sort of questions?” Calming significantly, Gastone leaned against the wall and closer to her. His tone was soft, vulnerable even.

“What is he? How was he able to turn human?” Belle said quietly with a shrug of her shoulders. She didn’t want Aleksander to hear her through the door, but she was also feeling a bit vulnerable herself. “Why did he keep it from me?”

Andre reached out and gently squeezed her arm. “All very valid questions.”

“It’s dangerous, Belle,” Doc said, pressing his lips into a thin line but still looking like he was prepared to cave. “If the Chloroform is not administered correctly, there is a chance you may not wake up.”

“I have full faith in you, Doc.” Belle turned and grabbed the doorknob. “But let me speak to his Royal Highness first, make sure he’s willing.”

“One of us should come in there with you.” Gastone pushed off the wall, ready to be that one.

“No, it’ll be easier if we’re alone.” She waved him off and twisted the knob.

Gastone grabbed her hand, preventing her from opening the door. He held out his personal revolver. “At least take this. For my peace of mind.”

Belle frowned, most certainly not wanting to. She took it with a sigh and stuffed it into her robe’s pocket. It was too heavy for the garment, causing the fabric to hang oddly. Suddenly remembering the other object she had stashed, Belle reached up into her hair and extracted the mechanical pixie hiding there.

“Take her to my room, will you?” Belle said, releasing the fairy into Gastone’s calloused hands.

Gastone nodded. Pixie grasped his curled fingers, staring at Belle with wide, black eyes. A string of notes sang from her throat. Belle touched her gently on the nose, then opened the door to Aleksander’s room. He was standing in the corner as she stepped through and closed the door behind her.

The room felt too small. She remained by the door and he in his corner—a corner that barely fit him. His chest shook with his labored breathing, his shoulders slouched, and some of his wounds had reopened. Despite his display of beastliness before, Aleksander was not fully healed from his transformation. It was abundantly clear now that his excursion was catching up to him.

“Aleksander, it’s time you gave me the truth,” she said plainly.

The Prince met her stare unblinkingly. With a deep breath, Belle made her proposal.

In the time it took for the Doc to retrieve his necessary equipment from town, Belle had donned the blue dress from her visit to the Observation Room and pinned her hair up in a simple bun. It wasn’t her best look, but at least now she was somewhat decently dressed for the company of men—and beast.

Also, somewhere in that time, a tension had formed between Belle and Aleksander. It was mostly coming from her, she was certain, but there was nothing for it. The moment she’d stepped into Aleksander’s room to explain the Chloroform idea, she’d started to feel it. Belle didn’t want to be near the Prince. She didn’t want to look at him, talk to him, or have anything to do with him. The feeling was uncomfortable like it was a substance inside her that just didn’t belong and forced everything out of place.

She couldn’t wait for this to be over and she prayed their relationship would return to normal. Belle wanted it to feel comfortable again, safe. She wanted the fear of what he might soon tell her to finally go away.

In Aleksander’s room, all of the furniture had been overturned. A chair was in pieces and there were jagged scratches marking the metal walls. Had he tried to claw through it? Even the bed had been flipped and landed several paces from its place. They’d had to right it, just so the doc could work.

Aleksander sat quietly on the bed. From time to time, his eyes turned to her and they connected with just a look. Like they did now. Belle marveled at the way his eyes had changed. The soft, light blues were gone and these wolf eyes were intense, focused. Like iridescent half-moons resting within each eye. They pulled her in, the ferocity of his gaze was like a magnet holding her in place. She couldn’t move; could barely breathe when he had her. They terrified and fascinated her all at once.

With a snarl, Prince Aleksander broke their connection and glared at the doc. Blinking, Belle took deep breaths.

“Sorry. So sorry.” Doc squirmed but continued fixing one of the stitches at Aleksander’s side.

Belle understood Doc’s flustered reaction to the Prince. She was feeling the same. He went against everything she was taught and she at times struggled to reconcile that it was Aleksander behind those wolf eyes.

“How much longer will you be, Doc?” Belle opened her watch necklace to check the time.

“I’m done,” he said, carefully taping a bandage in place. “Now we just have to administer the Chloroform.”

“I should ready myself then. You’ll be all right without me?”

The doc nodded and waved her away as he removed some apparatus from his medical bag. But, to Belle’s surprise, she hadn’t been talking to the doctor. The query had come out abruptly, with no thought behind it, and had been meant for Aleksander. The Prince understood this and nodded in a way that was too human for a wolf.

With no more words necessary and fully aware that Aleksander watched her closely, Belle opened the door and left. Outside of the room, she suddenly felt like she could breathe again. Like somehow Beast-Aleksander sucked all of the air straight out of the room. Her heart and instincts were completely at war with one another. Her heart recognized Aleksander. It saw past the terrifying exterior and even the brilliant eyes, and found the man within. The man who had her questioning all she knew. Her instincts, however, couldn’t seem to tell the difference between Aleksander and the hellhounds she hunted.

Heading into her room, Belle changed back into her nightclothes and robe. She then slid into bed and waited for the doctor. Pixie fluttered about her, singing a strange melody that Belle suspected was being made up on the spot. Weariness was just starting to weigh heavily on her when there came a knock at the door.

“My apologies for making you wait.” Doc slipped into her room and shut the door behind him. “It took a bit more Chloroform to put him down than I expected.”

Belle raised an eyebrow and frowned.

Pausing in his step, the doc had the good grace to look sheepish. “Apologies again, poor choice of words.”

“So he’s asleep then?” Belle tucked the blankets nervously around her waist.

Now that she was moments away from talking to Aleksander properly, butterflies were moving into her stomach. It was silly for her to be nervous at the idea of talking to him. She’d spent more than enough time with him over the weeks and was quite comfortable in his presence. Or, at least, she had been before. Now, dare say, things were different. The course of events that were to come depended entirely on their impending conversation. Moreover, Belle’s heart sat in the balance.

“Just nearly.” Doc was saying, but Belle hadn’t really been listening. “I have Andre watching over his treatment. Now please, lie down.”

Belle scooched herself into position and Pixie watched from her perch upon the headrest. The doc held up the device he’d been readying. The bulk of it was a glass cylinder attached to a foot long hose. It was a duplicate to the one she’d seen in Aleksander’s room.

“Here’s how this works. This part here goes over your nose and mouth.” Doc held up a hand-sized, concaved object that was connected to the other end of the hose. “You’ll breathe deeply. Air will be pulled into the inhaler, through the Chloroform, up the hose, and into the mask. This will give you a blend of both oxygen and Chloroform, which should regulate your dosage safely.”

“How long before it begins to take effect?” Belle asked, starting to feel nervously sick.

“Not long,” was the doc’s deadpan answer.

“How long will I be asleep?” Perhaps she was stalling now.

“Depends. Most likely about forty-five minutes to an hour.” Not waiting for her to ask another question, Doc reached forward and placed the mask over her nose and mouth. “Take hold. Now long and slow breaths, if you will.”

Grabbing onto the mask, so that the doctor could let go, she held it against her face. It was cold, and she hated the harsh feeling of it against her skin. Stealing herself, she inhaled. A sickeningly sweet smell filled her nostrils. Belle scrunched up her eyebrows, immediately not wanting to breathe anymore in.

Doc’s stern gaze held her firm. “Slow and deep. Just relax.”

Belle chose to focus on his stare, ignoring the wretched scent and her nervous energy. In and out, she let her chest inflate with his. In and out. Slow and…deep…