Heart of Darkness (30 page)

“In forests such as these?”

“Aye. Mostly unknown but these three, I
welcomed and they know they are so they very rarely hide. But since
the colt's birth, they're more protective. It's only natural.”

“So they haven't always been here?”

“Until my father decided, in his arrogance
but what he would term infinite wisdom, that we no longer needed
the protection of magic. I managed to reintroduce a lot of the
creatures here by persuasion.”

A surge of emotion rushed through her, so
powerful that had she been standing, it would have knocked her to
her knees. She gulped, then launched herself at him, which
inadvertently pushed him sprawling on to the floor. Her arms clung
to his shoulders and her mouth to his. Against his firm lips, she
murmured, “You're amazing, Wolfe. Amazing.”

His tongue swept against hers and she
groaned. Grabbing his hands, she pressed them to her breasts and
together they tried to untie her bodice, until Wolfe stopped.

It was an unusual gesture. For it was more
than just a rejection, Isabeau could see that his mind was
completely elsewhere and that he was paused, as though waiting for
something to happen.

“What's wrong?” she asked huskily, her voice
redolent with the emotions that were flooding her system.

“Someone's here,” he returned in a whisper
and almost as though that were the trigger, she heard a branch
break.

Quickly, Wolfe pushed her to her feet and he
was beside her. It was only then that she realized he'd brought a
sword with him instead of his massive crossbow for protection. Why
would he have done that?

She damned herself for her failure to have
spotted the weapon and frowned up at him. When her mouth opened to
berate him, she heard the sounds of footsteps and instantly, every
part of the moist flesh within dried and her tongue felt like a
leaden weight.

Chapter Twelve

“I'm disappointed, Wolfe.”

The grim words were rough and made her
shudder uncontrollably. In the moonlight, it should have been if
not easy, possible to see the man who had spoken, but he was hidden
in the shadows of the trees.

“You always are, Jaegar. It's the reason
you'll never lead a happy life,” Wolfe remarked, his voice poised
but she saw the tightening of one hand about the pommel of his
sword and the other about the grip.

She swallowed and the dryness of her mouth
had convulsions running along the length of her windpipe. So this
was Jaegar. The man who wanted her as badly as Wolfe had.

Desperately, Isabeau prayed that she was
already pregnant with Wolfe's child. That naught could be done
about it. She wanted no other man but the one that stood to her
side, and a part of her railed against fate that she was in this
damnable position.

Jaegar laughed and it was a harsh sound, as
harsh as his face when he finally stepped out of the shadows and
into the clearing that led to the brook. It wasn't that he was
ugly, for in truth he had a similar visage to that of Wolfe, but it
was the ugliness of his soul that made her fearful.

“Always the idealist, Wolfe. And look where
that has brought you? You, my bastard half-brother, are as cursed
as I, the so-called fatalist!”

“I think you are mistaken, Jaegar. Tis not I,
who is the bastard,” Wolfe spat and Isabeau watched on in horror as
Jaegar's face seemed to twist into a gruesome mask of hatred.

While his attention was on Wolfe, she took
advantage of their crossed words to swiftly but delicately set the
wheels in motion to changing her appearance. Her hair became lank
and felt greasy against her skin, which had returned to the
sallowness of a crone's. She felt her nose become a large
protuberance that jutted out from her skull and her chin receded as
her forehead became broader. Isabeau imagined she looked thoroughly
repulsive with her oddly shaped and proportioned face and lanky
body.

“Had our father never met your whore of a
mother, then I would be the heir to all of this,” Jaegar
hissed.

“My mother was no whore. She could
barely stand our father, let alone any other man. Unlike yours. I
have it on paper that your mother was the harlot of the
ton
, so do not preach to me
Jaegar.”

“Did she cure you, then?” the other man
asked, changing the question with the speed of a cobra.

“Did who cure me?” Wolfe retorted
nonchalantly.

“The woman with whom you were just
copulating,” Jaegar remarked politely, but Isabeau could see his
annoyance had reached an almost frenzied level.

“As you can see, half-brother, I am still of
the dark.” Wolfe made a flourishing bow that would have made the
Patronesses of Almack's titter delightedly behind their fans.

“That is because she is not your mate!”

“And she's yours?” Wolfe scoffed. “Then why
did that half-bit villain attempt to slice off her finger rather
than just take her to you himself?” Before Jaegar could reply, he
continued with a hiss, “Because I wanted her and had her. And you
simply could not bear that, could you?”

Jaegar clapped mockingly. “You wound me
with your words. I only discovered why I needed
her
ten days ago...your petty jealousies and
insecurities hold no place here.”

“And what rare discovery did you make?”

“Why the entire legend. Not the half that you
planted to dupe me! Show her to me.”

Wolfe reacted negatively to that and pushed
her behind him.

“I'll kill you before I let you have her,
Jaegar. And the thought of your death hasn't upset me for a long
time,” Wolfe threatened with a growl.

“The student killing its teacher? Oh, the
irony, Wolfe! Killing me would not be an issue if I happened to
slice your throat first!”

“Stop it!” she cried and stepped away from
Wolfe's back and into the moonlight. “Why are you fighting over an
old crone?”

Jaegar reared back at her appearance and
Wolfe seemed to be rather shocked by it as well, until
understanding lit his eyes.

“You...You mated with this old hag?” Jaegar
asked with incredulity.

Wolfe nodded slowly.

“And this is the woman who if she bears our
child will save our souls? Good God!” he spat and looked disgusted
at the thought of having to do anything more than look at
Isabeau!

Deciding not to take offense, for Jaegar's
reaction could not have been more perfect had he but tried, Isabeau
said, “This legend is just that. Not proof that I can help either
of you. Let's not draw blood over something that is probably just a
tale from the Brothers' Grimm!” she lied. Convincingly, she
hoped.

When the sharp sound of sword being
unsheathed ricocheted in her ears, she realized not and instantly
sought out Jaegar's eyes, before channeling her power through her
body and attempting to mesmerize him before anyone could be
hurt.

She felt it flood through her and felt the
force of it but did not understand why he did not fall to the
ground!

Jaegar merely looked stunned, and not in the
sense she needed. And grittily, he growled, “So you attempt to hide
the truth from me? With disguises?”

It was only then that she realized she had
somehow reverted to her natural state and before she could attempt
the mesmerizing process again, a bolt of power seemed to shudder
through the air and slam against her. It not only sent her
backwards, but it was almost as though she were flying.

The landing, as ever, was unpleasant. Her
entire body felt akin to how it had felt after her fall out of the
gallery window and she grimaced as the ring healed her aches and
pains.

By the time she was once more on her feet and
returning to the brook with a hurried if slightly limping gait,
chaos seemed to have descended upon the forest. There was a myriad
of wild animals clustered about Jaegar, snarling and biting, and
Wolfe seemed to be being attacked by some invisible force, which
her mind simply could not process.

She longed to cry out Wolfe but feared it
would interfere with whatever commands he was giving the animals.
Isabeau saw him cry out with pain as something twisted his body to
the left and right in seemingly impossible ways and she herself
cried out, “Stop it!”

Both men ignored her, but she watched with
some satisfaction as one of Wolfe's namesakes leapt out at Jaegar
and tore a chunk of his jacket and some flesh before being bolted
by one of the repellents with which she had been attacked. It
whimpered but seemed, she hoped, unharmed. It was only then that
she realized there had to be some sort of safeguard around Jaegar
that was invisible to the eye. Her cry had shocked him and had
lowered his mental defenses, causing a crack to appear in whatever
was protecting him and allowing the wolf to rush in and attack.

While she was grateful to the wolf, she
wished he had done more damage for whatever was happening to Wolfe,
was too horrific to witness. Grunts and cries escaped his throat as
Jaegar's talent lifted him from the ground and had him writhing in
the air as unseen weapons bludgeoned him. What talent he possessed,
she did not know for definite, could only assume that he could
channel and manipulate the air around them.

Had she not been Sidhe, and not felt the
change in the air around her as Jaegar made his moves, she would
not have understood the situation at all. But from the sheer blasts
of power that Jaegar was emitting, she realized that it soon would
become deadly.

“Let him go!” she cried. “I'll come with
you!”

“Isabeau, no!” Wolfe screamed and bellowed
again as Jaegar attacked him further.

She began to sob as blood started to sink
through her love's apparel. “Let him go! Let him go, damn you! I
won't run! I won't! Just don't hurt him any longer.”

Isabeau watched, feeling nausea grip her
stomach, as Wolfe was suspended in the air for what felt like
hours, until finally Jaegar released him and he sunk to the ground
with a grunt.

Running up to him, she attempted to heal him
by holding his hands and sending hot flashes of power through his
body. She was not sure how successful she'd been for two reasons:
one, that she had never attempted to truly cure any other person
with her talent and secondly, Jaegar pulled her away from him
before Isabeau thought she could do Wolfe any good at all.

Silent tears coursed down her cheeks as she
looked down at the rumpled heap of flesh and bones on the forest
floor that was her Wolfe and with hatred in her eyes, she glared at
Jaegar and retorted angrily, “Touch him no more!”

“How shall you stop me?” he asked, then in a
curious tone of voice said, “What is your name?”

“I shall stop you by not complying! And my
name is Isabeau!”

“Compliance
can
be forced, you know.”

“Rather a contradiction don't you think? You
cannot force compliance and so long as I think Wolfe is being
harmed, I won't...”

Silkily, Jaegar murmured, “Won't, what?”

She turned her head away but gasped when he
grabbed her chin with a gust of wind and forced her to look at him.
“You shall do anything I want by the time I have finished with you
Isabeau! Fear not!”

His hand caught at hers and he hissed then
pulled away and glared at her then down at his palm.

Confused, she looked down and realized he'd
touched her ring and had been...burnt or injured...she wasn't sure
which and didn't care so long as he was in pain!

Out of nowhere, men stomped from the woods
and surrounded the three of them. A group of four separated
themselves from the main body of, what she could only assume, were
men-at-arms and walked towards Wolfe.

Isabeau cried out when one of them kicked him
in the side and he grunted in pain. Her body and subconscious
reacted more to seeing Wolfe being abused than her actual conscious
did.

Instantly, power surged through her and as
she shouted, “Don't touch him!” She caught the guard's surprised
attention and watched in satisfaction as each of the four
men-at-arms looked at her and fell, stupefied to the ground.

Yells of anger and fear rang out within the
forest clearing, as the other soldiers reacted to the consequences
of her talent and she looked on with gratification. Jaegar may have
sought her merely for what her womb could provide, but that did not
mean that she could not show him her talents as well.

She spun around and faced him, then warned,
“Tread carefully, Jaegar. I go with you through choice, but go
against my will and you shall fear the consequences.”

Jaegar cocked a brow but bowed. Mockingly.
Isabeau narrowed her eyes at him and murmured, “Do not
underestimate me, Jaegar. Do not injure Wolfe.”

“I do not take kindly to threats, my lady
Hart.”

“Neither do I,” she retorted sweetly and when
one of the soldiers came towards her and grabbed her roughly by the
arm, she pulled away from him fiercely. “Jaegar?” she commented and
glared at him.