Beauty Dates the Beast(45)

A tearing force ripped me out of his arms, and I went crashing into the back wall. Stars circled in front of my eyes.

Jason had finished with Arabella.

Beau snarled, a feline cry of rage, and my eyes fluttered open to see the two of them circling, forms morphing. Beau was all sleek golden curves as he changed into his cougar form.

“Run, Bathsheba! Run!” he yelled.

Jason was a monster—bulging, rippling unnaturally under the fur. He was hideous to look upon, all claws and fangs. And he was twice the size of Beau.

The ceiling began to blacken, with orange fire at the edges, yet they launched themselves at each other, claws flying in a fight to the death.

We didn’t have time for this! The burning roof was going to collapse and kill us.

The cats tangled in a mess of flying fur, rolling and scratching, teeth flashing. Jason’s gray form dwarfed Beau’s sleek golden one; Beau didn’t stand a chance.

I frantically looked around the destroyed pool room for anything to use to distract them.

A bundle of broken pool cues lay on the floor and I grabbed one to use it as a club. It was only a foot and a half long, and the wickedly pointed, jagged edge gave me a new idea. I wobbled to my feet, clutching it against me.

I knew that one bad swipe from one of them could kill me and distract Beau at a critical moment. But I couldn’t do nothing. I’d forced us into this awful scenario because I hadn’t trusted him, but I trusted him now. And I was going to save him.

All snarls and flashing claws, the cats flew across the room with catlike screams of pain and rage. Beau’s mouth clamped on Jason’s shoulder and tore a huge gouge. When they rolled toward me again, all I saw was Jason’s back and I heard Beau’s cry of outrage as he was pinned.

I charged toward them, holding the broken end of the pool cue with both hands, then lunged toward Jason’s back.

It sank in like he was made of butter.

Jason arched backward, his clawed paw trying to reach his back, but he couldn’t as a cat. He began to shift, desperate to reach the I’d stake in his lower back, under the rib cage. He turned toward me with murder in his eyes, then Beau tackled him and ripped his throat out.

My stomach heaved, and I collapsed onto the floor. The pain and smoke finally took me down, and everything went black.


“Bathsheba.” Beau tapped me gently on the cheek, and I woke up in his arms. Blood covered his face—his human face—but he was still whole. “Bathsheba, tell me where Giselle is.”



We were still in the burning house. I had only been out for a few moments.

“She’s dead. Beau, we have to get out of here.” My raspy voice didn’t even sound like me.

He moved to the balcony door. “Two steps ahead of you,” he said, and kicked it open.

He went to the railing and looked over.

Animals waited down below. Too far down below. I clung to his neck, suddenly afraid.

He kissed my forehead. “Ramsey will catch you. Do you trust me?”

I hadn’t trusted him earlier today and nearly gotten both of us killed. With a small sob, I pressed my mouth to his in one last kiss. “I trust you.”

“Good.” He dropped me off the balcony.

I vaguely remembered being caught in the heavy paws of a grizzly bear before blacking out again, this time staying down.





Chapter Twenty-three





My eyelids fluttered open sometime later. A cool sheet covered me, and something hot clung to my hand.



I was in a hospital room—clean, pristine, and white. A tray of uneaten lunch stood at the foot of the bed, and Beau sat beside me, his hands clasping mine tightly as if he’d lose me if he let go. His flannel shirt was a few sizes too big for him (Ramsey’s, I guessed).

He looked exhausted. I felt steamrolled.

I groaned and Beau instantly jerked alert. His eyes flicked over my face and body, then his intense look gave way to relief. “You’re awake.”

“I am,” I said and tried to sit up. “Where are we?”

He pushed me back down. “The doctor wants to keep you for a few days to ensure that you don’t have any bad effects from smoke inhalation.”

“You seem to be totally healthy.” The sight of him whole and smiling made relief flood through me.

“There’s a few perks to being a shifter.” I felt his heavy weight settle on the edge of the bed and he leaned over me, brushing a lock of hair off my face. “Bathsheba?”

My heart fluttered at the tender way that he said my name. “Yes?”

“Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again.”

I grimaced. “Which one? The one where I climbed out the window and stole the car, or the one where I shouted a warning and nearly had the Wendigo eat me, or the one where I nearly blew up the mansion?”

“All of them. When you’re dealing with shapeshifters and Wendigo and other supes, you can’t possibly compete.” His hand clenched mine.

Irked that he thought I was so fragile, I pointed out, “They were both twice your size. I had to do something or they would have killed you.”

“Not if that something involves sacrificing yourself,” he said, brushing my hair away from my face in sharp motions. He was rather upset, I realized. “Not if it means that I’m going to lose you.” Stroke, stroke, stroke. At the rate he was going, he was going to stroke all the hair straight off my head. “He … he hurt you.” There was a world of anguish in that tone.

I brushed my knuckles along the stubble on his jaw. “Just a few scratches. He didn’t really hurt me.”

“Two busted ribs, a concussion, and lacerations on more than sixty percent of your body,” he shot back.

“He didn’t rape me.”

The tightness left his face.

“And I’d do it again if it saved you,” I said softly.

He jerked up and walked away, and I was swamped with burning disappointment. What was I thinking, falling in love with a shifter? I’d gotten too sappy, and he was probably trying to break it off with the human liability that he’d saddled himself with—

“I can’t do this, Bathsheba.” Beau was back at my bedside, looking tortured.

My breath caught in my throat. “Do what?”

He looked at me with haunted eyes. “I’ve led the Russell clan for twelve years. I’ve led the Alliance for eight. Everyone listens to me. If I snap my fingers, things get done.” His hands tightened on mine, and he stared at my small hand as if it fascinated him. “Yet ever since I’ve met you, you haven’t listened to a thing I’ve said.

“I don’t know what to do with you. You’re independent to the point of stubbornness, and even when you’re confronted with an opponent who’s stronger and meaner, you don’t give up. You go out of your way to protect Sara, who should be just as capable as you. More capable, because she’s a shifter.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he continued on, his voice dropping low. “You even risked your life to save mine, when it could have killed you.”

Sudden tears pricked at my eyes. If this meant that I’d lost him forever, I’d …

I’d do it again. Over and over again.

I loved Beau with all my heart, I realized. I wanted to always be at his side, and protect him when I could. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He wasn’t listening. “You’re the one person in the world that I can’t bend to do my will,” he said slowly. “And that’s why I can’t let you go. I refuse to accept that you want to break up with me.”

I stared at him in surprise.

He continued, “The Alliance is a dangerous place for a human—everyone plays rougher, and there’s a code you can’t even begin to comprehend. It’s too dangerous for you. The past few weeks have shown me that.” An anguished look crossed his face. “And I can’t change you even if you asked me.”

I nodded. “I’m immune,” I said softly.

His fingers continually stroked my hand. “Everyone warns me that I shouldn’t bring you further into my world, further into the Russell clan. But all I can think of is that I need to marry you to keep you safe—”

My heart leapt in my chest, and the heart monitor at the side of the bed beeped loudly. “You want to marry me—just to protect me?”

His grim face lightened a little. “Actually, I want to drag you back to my cabin, lock you away, and never let you out into the world again. I want to keep you at my side so I can watch over you always, and kiss you every time you walk past me.” His expression relaxed, changing to something more sensual, and his voice dropped into a husky whisper. “I want to smell every time that you think of me, and I want you to think of me several times a day.”

My mouth went a little dry. “Can we have tub sex again?”