How Beauty Loved the Beast

chapter Thirteen



The heat of the forge roared like the mythic wildfires of Muspelheim. Hauk’s work fire, though, stayed safely contained in the hearth. He lifted the rag he kept doused in cool water and rubbed it against his sweatless skin. In the patches where the burning had gone the deepest, the glands didn’t work, leaving him vulnerable to overheating if he didn’t manually keep his skin damp. But he refused to let his scars stop him from doing something. It was why he’d chosen metalworking as his career at the Underlight—it made him face fire again.

He lifted his hammer for the next swing of the largest project he’d ever worked on. For a moment his hand faltered. He’d never seen Jolie so angry, and she’d been the inspiration for this particular piece. If she was going to leave him, was it worth continuing?

Using tongs, he plunged the thinly molded metal into a bucket. Water sizzled and hissed, some evaporating on contact. He pulled the piece back out and set it on his bench. It would fit the front cage of his left calf, making it smooth again for the first time since the fire. Metal still, but more like a leg. He was working on three others as well. Together they would cover the whole of his missing limb.

His hideous reflection stared back at him in the still-hot metal. Usually he avoided mirrors. This time he regarded the distorted visage, trying to see it impersonally. Just one more walking carcass out of the billions on the planet. By all accounts, he shouldn’t even be among the living, and yet here he was.

Whether or not Jolie stayed or went, that was his face. This was his life. Impossible to achieve as it seemed, he deserved to be whole again, within if not without. As long as he was stuck in this life, he deserved love and a chance at his old plans of marriage and a family.

He would finish the leg. He swung the hammer around in his hand, feeling its weight, and reached for the tongs to reheat the replacement skin so he could keep working.

The door creaked open behind him. Instead of into the fire, he hastily put his work back under the bench. He wasn’t ready to share it yet, not until it was done. Even then, if he didn’t show Jolie, he may not show anyone for a long time. That was okay. When he was done and had it affixed into place, he would know it was there.

“Hauk?”

He pivoted at the sound of Jolie’s voice, anxious to see if her face would tell him anything or if she’d put that mask back up. The second was always a bad sign. But instead of blank, her expression was pensive. Even more mysterious, a white leather suitcase stuffed to near bursting was clutched in her hands.

“Everything okay?” he asked, unsure what else to say. He stayed in place, waiting for her move though everything in him ached to run to her and pull her into his arms.

She bit her lip. “It’s this weekend. Whatever Ananke’s doing. It goes down then.”

Even more unexpected. “How do you know that?”

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I talked to my father. He tried to get me out of town, pretended it was a birthday present. He said you could come, too, and anyone else I wanted to bring.” She frowned. “I like to think he wanted me gone to keep me safe. But I think he wanted you gone for a different reason.”

The suitcase took on new meaning. “So you’re going?” He didn’t know what to think about that. He liked the idea of her not being here for whatever was going down, but it wasn’t like her to run.

Then again, he’d never seen her as scared as she was this morning.

Her thoughtfulness turned to confusion. “What? No. Of course not.”

He motioned to the suitcase.

“Oh.” She shook her head. “No, I’m moving in for the week. If it’s going down, then I’m here for it.” Alarm widened her eyes, and she shook her hand vehemently. “To the Underlight. I wasn’t inviting myself to live with you. They have extra rooms.”

She was staying, thank the gods. And f*ck it, he was going for broke. He strode across the forge and took her suitcase. “Well, I’m inviting you. My girlfriend is not moving in to some empty room down the hall for a week. Unless you’re radically opposed, stay with me.”

He tipped her chin up so he could see her reaction. When relief flowed across her face, he grinned, lightness filling him despite the upcoming shit-storm. No matter what was going on around them, the two of them were okay.

“Gimme a moment to put things back in order here.” He carefully set her bag down and took a couple of minutes to clean up the forge while she leaned in the doorway and watched, another thoughtful but otherwise unreadable expression on her face.

Tools in place, fire doused, he returned to her. She reached for her bag, but he picked it up first. “I got it.”

She opened her mouth as if debating a protest.

“Come on, babe. Let me carry your bag. Please.”

With a nod, she put her hand on his arm. “We’re in this together until the end, whatever that is. You and me.”

He touched the soft skin of her cheek. He’d revel in the feel of her for the rest of his life if she let him. “Through the end and out the other side. I’m your man.”

Her arms wound around his neck.

He smiled, a little embarrassed. “Although you probably don’t want to do that right now because I’m, as Catrina would say, a hot mess.”

She backed away, chuckling. “You do smell a little smoky.”

“To the shower it is. Anything for my girl.” To his delight, that produced another laugh.

Back at his room, he shoved clothes from one drawer to another to give her some space while she politely protested that she could live out of the suitcase. But he saw her smile when he turned for the shower and she started unpacking her things. He liked the idea of their stuff intermingling. He hoped she left things here. She could have all of the drawers she wanted.

Together to the end, she’d said. She’d meant this weekend and whatever Ananke had planned, but he’d make sure this weekend wasn’t an end, just another adventure on a life that was just beginning.

He stepped out of the shower and contemplated the pants he’d brought to change into. He’d neglected to grab a shirt. Maybe that had been on purpose.

For Jolie, moving down here, speaking in terms of longevity, being afraid in front of him, those things were hard. For him, this was hard. He pulled on his leathers and stared around the screen, chest naked. It made his soul feel exposed. The darkest parts of him open for inspection.

Jolie had her back to him and was singing again, something soft this time. Sounded sweet. She had a beautiful voice.

He let the lilting notes soothe him until he had the courage to walk out, barefooted and bare-chested. She sat on the floor, flopped forward until her chest rested against her legs. He’d seen her do that before when she was stressed. She said stretching soothed her. Looked awfully painful to him.

But he sure appreciated her flexibility. She moved into the splits and continued her stretches. Damn, the girl could move. Lust, trusty emotion, gave him more courage. He cleared his throat, all too conscious of the bright lights and his partial nakedness. If she turned and smiled, it would be okay. If she turned and did something else...

“All moved in?” he asked.

“Yup. Just loosening up a bit.” She shot him a playful grin over her knee. Then she did a double-take. Her eyes widened in curious surprise, and her legs closed. Not a good sign.

He could feel himself blushing while he debated heading back to the bathroom or forward to his shirt drawer. “I forgot a shirt. I need to, uh...”

She hopped up, practically drinking him in with her eyes. “You need to stay just that way.” After two steps in his direction she discarded her shirt. A much better sign.

He stood rooted to the spot, mesmerized by her slender waist and pale green bra. She reached behind her to unhook it, but her fingers hesitated at the clasp. “This is okay, right? You would’ve asked me to get you a shirt if you weren’t ready for this. Right?”

He nodded mutely. A wildly happy grin made her expression glow. She unclasped the strap and let the lace fall to the ground. Her arms circled his neck. Her naked skin molded against his in the most wonderful, uncomfortable embrace. She felt so perfectly right against him, but every shift of her smoothness against his marbled skin made him hold back a flinch as he wondered what she must be thinking. Once again, he wished he could offer her more than the brokenness he had.

She nuzzled his chest with a happy purr. His heart swelled with love for this woman who didn’t seem to mind. He fisted a hand in her hair and held her close.

“I have wanted this so badly,” she said. “Thank you.”

He kissed the top of her head. “You know what I want?”

Sparkling eyes peered up at him. “What?”

“To throw you on the bed and make love to you. But you probably knew that.”

Her grin turned wicked and her hands slid to his ass, pressing his hips into her. “Well, you know sex is my usual reward for good behavior.”

He nodded in mock solemnity. “You’ll have me trained in no time.”

He started to pick her up, but she pressed gently against him. “Wait.”

Uh-oh. “What?”

She licked her lips, suddenly serious. “You cannot kick me out of the car anymore.”

He sighed. She didn’t just mean the car. “It makes no sense for both of us to be in danger when it only has to be one of us.”

“It doesn’t have to make sense. If you walk through hell, I’m walking with you. That’s what the word ‘together’ means. What you face, I face. What I face, you face. We don’t do the good or the bad alone.”

Watching her in danger was going to be the death of him, but her words hit home. Six years in the Army, three combat tours and he knew exactly what she meant. His face crunched up as he tried to process and accept her demand. “If you ever, ever want to step back, even a little, you do it. I much prefer being in front of you.”

A corner of her mouth curved up, obliterating the seriousness. She cupped his jaw with her palm, her body stretching up against his. “And here I’d gotten the distinct impression that you liked it behind me.”

The blood for thinking went elsewhere at the memory of her bent over her kitchen table, screaming his name. Damn woman knew how to confuse him into getting her way.

“Come on, Hauk. Together. No ordering me around. Even for my own protection. Say it.”

“I call unfair use of my libido.”

She hummed a sexy, throaty noise. “This morning, I call unfair use of those big muscles you’ve got.”

He picked her up and tossed her on the bed. She squealed in surprise, and he crossed his arms. “Fine. Together. Your way.”

With a triumphant grin, she grabbed the buckle of his pants and tugged. “Then get your ass on the bed, soldier.”

Gazing from her sparkling eyes to her bouncing breasts, he felt pretty triumphant himself as he let her pull him down to join her.

* * *

“So my idiot buddy’s in the helicopter yelling, ‘Don’t forget the photographs!’ ’cause he can’t hear the bullets flying over the rotors.”

Jolie shook her head at Hauk’s story and, despite the dangerous situation he’d been in, couldn’t help sharing his grin. He thought the memory was funny. She supposed it was, if life-threatening danger was your regular operating mode. “He’d dropped you into an ambush?”

“Yeah. And I’m trying to get my squad under cover while waving up at him like a perfect target, trying to tell him to get his ass back in the air.” He shook his head and laughed. “I’m damn lucky I didn’t get my head blown off.”

They reached an entrance to the Underlight, and she pulled him against the wall by the door. “No, I’m lucky you didn’t get your head blown off.”

He kissed her thoroughly, almost easily. In many ways, their five nights together had done them good. It had felt startlingly normal to fall into new routines with him, and Jolie had never felt so comfortable around anyone. Despite the doomsday hanging over their heads, life was almost perfect.

Hauk chuckled under his quickening breath as he pulled back and faced the door. “I’d better get you inside before I do something untoward in the hallway.” His tone was teasing, but the words were more of a lie than a joke.

She ducked her head. That was the only thing marring the beauty of their relationship. Nearly a week of sleeping side by side, and he still wasn’t comfortable around her. Every time they made love, she could feel his hesitance in the way his muscles tensed beneath her fingers, the way he turned his head so he didn’t have to face her and the way he consistently redirected everything back onto her. He was a generous man, in life and in bed, but it wasn’t generosity guiding his actions. He still didn’t trust her. And they were running out of time.

Even so, she peeled the water-doused shirt from his back and answered him in faux-teasing kind. “This is clean water on you, but me? I’m in my sweaty gym clothes. You must be desperate to consider anything now. And after this morning, too.” Thus far she’d tried to ignore the problems between them, to keep moving forward like he wasn’t behaving strangely. Each time he’d been grateful.

Today was no exception. He tucked a curl behind her ear and stepped back, a relieved smile on his face. “Must be the birthday glow.”

He’d been super sweet about her birthday, starting with flowers and breakfast in bed for her this morning. She knew most of it was just him and his kindness. But there was a manic tinge to his attendance that was more than the enthusiasm of a new relationship.

The weekend had arrived. Tomorrow morning the Benoit jet would be at Austin International, ready for her and whomever she chose to get on it. But that plane would go back to Houston empty. She was staying.

Sadness swept through her. She and Hauk had just gotten started, and this could be the end if Ananke’s unknown plans were as bad as they feared. She squeezed him once then headed for the door. “Let’s get some lunch.”

He frowned, sensing her mood change, but docilely followed her into the Underlight.

A tense stillness had taken over the place. No laughter greeted them in the kitchen as they prepped salads and chicken. In the common room a lone guitar played a distracted tune. Though fake greenery draped the pipes, the flower boxes hadn’t blossomed yet, and the grand space felt empty. Even the knitting crew kept intent on their stitches without the usual banter and gossip.

Jolie swirled green tea around her mug to cool it. “Maybe we shouldn’t have said anything.” They’d told Dr. Echelson her suspicions about the timing, and he’d let The Thing know. A big announcement had followed.

Hauk shrugged. “I dunno. People like knowing around here. It’s sort of the expectation. The Thing wouldn’t have appreciated silence, that’s for sure.” But he sounded uncomfortable as if he, too, had mixed feelings.

Travis and Brayden dropped down at their table with a “Hey” and a “Yo.” To Jolie’s surprise, Catrina followed with her own plate of fruit and quiche. Travis worked as a valet at Jolie’s condo, giving him odd hours. She didn’t want to know how Brayden the hacker made his money. But Catrina—or Carlton, her birth name that she still used at work and other times when she thought it best to dress her physical gender—had a day job at an ad agency.

“Lunch break or day off?” Jolie asked.

Catrina pushed her uncharacteristically wavy hair behind an ear. She had her “androgynous” look going, not made up or coiffed like a woman but not bothering to pass as a man. Something was deeply wrong. “Oh, I didn’t feel like going in today. I figured if it’s my last day, I might as well do something fun with it.” She wrung the pepper mill until her quiche looked like it’d been dragged through the dirt, then dabbed her fork listlessly into and out of the eggs.

Travis snorted. “So you decided to go underground and sit around depressed?”

Her lips quirked, though the smile didn’t reach her eyes. She laid her head on Jolie’s shoulder. “Not all of us have someone to go underground and mate like bunny rabbits with, so yes.” A lazy bite of her concoction, and she added yet another crank of pepper.

Jolie blew Hauk a kiss. He held back a grin as he tucked into his food, feigning casual.

Brayden halfheartedly patted Catrina’s leg. “I’m always here for you, sweetie.”

She chuckled, her humor rebuilding. “Reading yesterday’s news? I’m actually considering it. I suppose I am depressed.” She picked at her food again then turned back to Brayden, suspicious eyes narrowed. “You don’t already have an engagement lined up for the post-party tonight? What happened?”

Brayden shrugged uncomfortably. “I felt like I needed to stay close to home.”

Catrina didn’t drop her gaze. “You’ve been drinking with me a lot more than usual this month. Not the reaction I’d expect from you for an apocalypse.”

Brayden stared at his food, his voice full of strained humor. “What can I say, I’d like to spend the end days with my friends.”

Jolie slapped her silverware down. “It’s not the end days.”

Brayden’s eyes widened. “I just meant—”

“No. I’ve been talking like that, too. We have to stop. We don’t know what’s happening. We’ve tackled problems before. There are a lot of us. Most Underlighters test clean of the drugs. We don’t even know what they’re planning. So what if it’s big? So are we.”

Travis and Brayden cocked their heads in unison to stare. “Woo,” Brayden said with mock enthusiasm.

“Win one for the Gipper,” Travis added.

Jolie narrowed her eyes. “You two deeply resemble vanilla and chocolate Twinkies.”

Brayden grinned. “I’d make a sexual innuendo, but your boyfriend’s right here, and I’m much smaller than he is.”

Catrina gave her half of a smile. “Well, I’m almost inspired. Thank you. And happy birthday. Can we be at your party already please? Trent, the bartender I promised you, makes an orgasmic gin gimlet. And Brayden, dearest, before you snark on what that says about my past, don’t forget whose skills you’re condemning.”

Brayden lifted his hands in surrender. “I’ll have to try one.”

Jolie chuckled. “Fine. I’m a cheeseball. But my cheeseball birthday request is that everybody acts like we’re still going to be here Monday. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I’m not giving up without a helluva fight.” Without checking for agreement, she speared more salad.

Catrina laughed, eyes once again sparkling. “If your lover gives you puppy-dog eyes one more time, I’m going to be sick. Otherwise, I will gamely attempt chipper. But only because it’s your birthday and you’re my best dancer. Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

For the next half hour, they ate their lunch in friendly chatter, discussing her birthday party at the condo, the next p-ssy Will-Oh! show and other normal things. Hauk had agreed to go to her party, probably because Jolie hadn’t been wearing any clothes when she told him how much she wanted him there. Maybe that was cheating, but on this particular she didn’t care. Attending her birthday party was a boyfriend requirement.

The fork slipped from Catrina’s fingers and clanked against the table. The rest of them turned at the noise, but she didn’t seem to notice them as she rubbed her forehead like she’d suddenly grown tired.

Jolie reached for her hand. “Everything okay?”

“Sorry, sweetie,” she muttered. “I’ve been out of it all day, but something just...” She stopped talking. Shook her head like she was trying to clear it, the loose black waves of her hair swaying gently in front of her face. A deep breath, and she sat up straight, her face relaxing.

Brayden scraped the last bits of egg from his plate. “It’s been that kind of day for all of us.” He ate the egg then flicked his empty fork at Hauk. “Except for him. Color me jealous.”

“’Bout damn time,” Hauk muttered.

Brayden winked at Jolie. She grinned back.

Catrina reached a hand toward Hauk. “Can I borrow a knife?”

He blinked at the unexpected question. “For how long? You need to cut something right now, or you want something to wield over the weekend?”

“Just for now.”

Shrugging, he pulled a blade from his ankle sheath and handed it over before turning back to Jolie. “So, no birthday cake? They can make gluten-free cake. I looked it up.”

“Ooh, he uses a computer,” Brayden teased. “Very technical.”

Catrina grabbed a hank of her hair and flicked the knife, severing it. In shock, the table watched as she grabbed another lock.

“Whoa,” Jolie said. “What are you doing?”

More hair fell. Catrina’s face remained impassive as she chopped crooked layers millimeters away from her scalp. “Cutting it off. It’s too long.”

Jolie reached for the knife, but Catrina was uncooperative. “Honey, there are people who do that. And not during lunch. They’re professionals and stuff.” Despite her best efforts, Catrina’s movements didn’t falter. Panic tinged her voice. “Stop!” She reached again.

Hauk yanked her away. “That’s sharp. Her hair will regrow. Your hand won’t. Catrina, what the f*ck are you doing? Gimme my knife back.” Half her hair was already gone.

Brayden leaned in to say quietly, “Girlfriend, people are watching.”

Catrina pointed the knife at him, her face a forbidding glower. “I am not your girlfriend.”

Brayden scooted back with his hands up. “Ooookay. You’re right. I don’t have girlfriends. It’s just a saying.”

Catrina stood. With a final lop, the last lock was on the ground. Her hair stuck out from her skull in a jagged patchwork. Ice-cold eyes pierced Brayden. “You disgust me.” Dropping the knife on the table, she stepped away.

Jolie grabbed her hand. “Where are you going?”

Catrina twisted her hand from Jolie’s grip. “I have to leave now.”

Brayden blanched and his voice came out a panicked whisper. “It’s the potion. She’s been potioned. They turned it on. Shit.” He patted himself as if searching for some change in his own infected body.

Jolie grabbed Catrina again. Her suddenly crazy boss pulled back as if to swing at her. Hauk seized her elbow, rooting her to the spot. “I thought she hadn’t been injected,” he said.

“Unhand me,” Catrina warned in low, growling tones.

She sounded like a man, not like her normal self. Her posture was stiff and upright, chest thrust forward. No sway to her movements or glimmer in her eyes.

Jolie shook her head, freaked beyond measure at the change. “At the cemetery. She said she’d lost her sunglasses. I believed her. But I’m a dumbass because she wouldn’t remember if they’d gotten to her.”

Brayden stood up and backed away, shaking his hands in fear as if to ward it off. “I still test positive. What are they doing to her?”

“Him,” Catrina announced. She lunged at Brayden, but Hauk held her back.

“What the f*ck are we supposed to do?” Hauk asked.

The lunch crowd had gathered at the commotion, ringing the five of them in. Somebody called Catrina’s name.

Catrina dropped down, grabbed at Hauk’s other ankle holster and came up with a gun. “It’s Carlton. Get out of my way. I’m leaving.”

Hauk caught her wrists and jerked them upward. The gun went off. Chunks of ceiling rained down as people screamed and ran from the common room.

A twist of his hands, and Hauk had the gun away from her. He swept his foot. Catrina landed face down on the floor. He caught her hands behind her back as she yelled imprecations and flailed her legs.

Jolie gaped at her boss. Hauk caught her eyes, questions in his. He’d done what he had to for everyone’s safety, but now what?

Dr. Echelson strode out of the diminished crowd. Despite his graying hair, the fifty-something man usually seemed vigorous and youthful. But the tired lines in his eyes and weary way he dropped to his knees by Catrina showed his age.

“Carlton,” he said with the steady voice he used to bring errant students back to attention.

Catrina returned his gaze with an angry but noticeably calmer expression.

“Where do you need to go?”

She struggled once, but Hauk held her steady. She glared back at him before turning back to Dr. E. “It’s not any of your business.”

Dr. E smiled, almost chummy, and cajoled, “Well, now, we can be reasonable. I’m sure you’d like a new outfit to go about in. Something less feminine. We can accommodate that. In exchange, let me know where you’re going.”

Her outfit wasn’t particularly feminine, not compared to what she normally wore. But at the word, Catrina shuddered and relaxed. Her eyes shifted down, as if she were coming up with a lie, before she smiled innocently back at Dr. E. “Home,” she said. “I’m going home.”

Dr. E looked past her shoulder and nodded.

On her other side, LaRoche held a syringe. He dropped to his knees, the whites of his eyes round and startling in his dark face, and injected her.

She yelled once, struggling futilely against Hauk’s hold until she relaxed into unconsciousness.

Hauk released her gently. “You didn’t use mine, did you?” At Hauk’s request, LaRoche had designed a sedative capable of dropping him when he’d gone berserk, just in case it was ever needed. They’d only used it once, an occasion Jolie vividly remembered as he’d been fully under Odin’s control and carrying her back to his room.

LaRoche dropped to a crouch to check Catrina’s vitals. “No. Your sedative would take her out for a week. Or permanently. This is an earlier version I designed that didn’t work. Fast-acting, but too weak for your amped-up metabolism.” He sat back on his heels. “She’s okay.”

Tally wound her way through the crowd. “They’re clearing out the shop for her.”

“The shop?” Jolie asked.

“It’s the only place down here with a lock.” She handed LaRoche a clean syringe. “Here you go.”

He took it and drew a vial of blood while Tally soothingly stroked his braids.

“Anything new?” Dr. Echelson asked.

LaRoche shrugged. “The closest thing I have to compare it to is Hauk’s blood. He’s got that tattoo, and there is something similar in the magic. Please understand, we’re not talking normal chemistry here, so a lot of what I’m going on is hypothesis. I thought maybe the similarities were what made it magical, but after what Catrina just did, I think it’s more than that. I think the formula is a variant of the tattoo.”

A few gasps sounded from the remaining crowd.

Jolie said, “Last time I was at their temple, they had these sticks that could break magic. They ended Hauk’s rages and the effects of their tattoo. But it only temporarily worked on the Hands of Atropos because the tattoo would ‘reboot’ it, so to speak. If we got ahold of one of those wands, would it break the, uh, potion or whatever?”

LaRoche stood up and brushed off as he considered. “It would probably break it temporarily. The formula works virally. It can self-replicate, which is why it doesn’t flush out like normal chemicals would. Unlike that tattoo, though, if we could kill it or completely remove it from somebody’s system, there isn’t anything to make more—like the magic in the tattoo would. But I’m not a magician. I’m a scientist, and I have no idea how to do that.”

Having seen the results of Tally and LaRoche’s “science,” Jolie had a hard time believing there was no magic in it. For them it seemed inadvertent, though, unlike Ananke’s ritualistic spellcasting.

“Shop’s ready,” somebody yelled from the hallway.

With a worried glance back at Jolie, Hauk carried the unconscious Catrina out of the common room.

Jolie sat back down as she watched them leave. Brayden and Travis joined her. Amidst all the goings on that horrified her, the only thing she could voice was the inconsequential. “She was bringing the bartender tonight. No orgasmic gin gimlets.”

Brayden’s face was frozen into a panic she’d never seen there before, but his voice was calm. “I can man the bar. Hauk’s a better bartender, but he wouldn’t like that much attention.”

She shook her head. “It’s okay. My building’s concierge will find somebody.” Her shoulders slumped. She cared more about Hauk than anybody, and yet she’d barely cracked the surface of who he was, what he liked, what he was good at. “Hauk’s a good bartender?”

“Yeah. He can even do the little curled peels and shit.” He puffed an amused breath. “And he does great flaming drinks. Go figure.”

“I didn’t know.” There was so much she didn’t know about him. So much she wanted to learn. Jolie wasn’t the praying type, but just in case anyone was listening, she whispered her hope that she and Hauk would have enough future to learn each other right.