Hunted: An Erotic Retelling of Beauty and the Beast (An Adult Fairy Tale Novel) (13 page)

Oh well.  She had nothing against the girl.  Maybe, actually, after this was finished, she would see if she wanted to apprentice as a witch.  Beatrix had plenty of time to do it, so she might as well put forth the offer.

Danya was pissed.  At herself, mostly.  She'd let Everett get the best of her.  Again!  She liked him, wanted him, and desired him so badly, but she couldn't give in so easily.  She knew this, and yet she'd let him take her right in the middle of dinner.  During dinner, even.  And, gods, that was so amazing.  She didn't regret it, not exactly, but she knew she shouldn't have done it.

He needed to know that he couldn't just sleep with her younger sister and get away with it.  Or, to be more precise, he couldn't sleep with anyone besides Danya and get away with it.  Either he wanted her, which he obviously did, or he didn't.  If he did, then she required faithfulness from him.  According to Horatio, this was Everett's tragic flaw, but Danya thought she could persuade him otherwise.  She would tame this beast, teach him what he could gain from fidelity.  He said he needed, and she needed too, but she needed to know that he wanted only her.  He needed to want her so desperately that just the thought of her drove him insane.  He should have no time in between imagining their next wild encounter to even think of another woman.

That was how Danya wanted it.  She wanted Everett, but she couldn't act foolishly about this.

And, how could she teach him the consequences of sleeping around?  She would do the same to him, that's how.

When she roused herself from a quick nap on the dining hall carpet, Everett was gone.  Away again, with Alena?  Maybe, but Danya didn't know for sure.  She rose from the floor and sat at the dining hall table, picking at the roasted vegetables on a platter on the table.  Horatio came out a few minutes after she woke and offered her coffee and dessert.

"I've made a delightful bread pudding and I have some hazelnut sweet cream that should mix wonderfully with the coffee," he said.

"I'd love both," she said, smiling at him.  "Also, do you think you can show me to a closet with woman's clothing afterwards?  I want to find something to wear.  I'd like to explore the mansion, but I don't think it's proper to do it in the nude."

Horatio grinned.  "Yes, of course, mistress.  I shall see what I can do.  I aim to please."

D
anya dipped her fork into the harvest pumpkin bread pudding and pulled a piece of it away.  Dragging the morsel across her plate, running it through the syrupy juice lingering on the white porcelain, she let it soak in the sweetness before picking it up and dropping it into her mouth.

"Is the dessert acceptable, mistress?" Horatio asked.

"It's wonderful," Danya said.  "I'm impressed with your skills in the kitchen."

"Thank you," he said.  "Would you like to know the secret?"

Danya nodded.  Taking up her mug filled with hazelnut cream flavored coffee, she drank deeply.  Horatio stepped forward and bowed low, whispering into her ear.

"The special ingredient," he said, "was made from the remainder of your orgasms atop the preparation table.  I extracted the essence from the table and the kitchen tools."

Danya choked on the coffee, nearly spitting it out, barely managing to swallow it.  Not that this helped much, oh no.  She coughed, gulping down the hot liquid, sending the searing heat trailing through her throat and into her stomach.  It settled there, a thick warmth, before mixing with the regular heat of her body and disappearing from her senses.

Horatio chuckled.  "Is something the matter?"

Danya stared at the bread pudding, contemplative.  "Well, it
is
delicious," she said.

"Indeed.  I believe the Master will enjoy it.  I'm sure he'll recognize the subtle flavor, at least.  Shall I fetch him?"

"No need," Danya said, gritting her teeth.  She pushed the dessert around the plate with her fork, toying with it.

She still couldn't believe it.  Or, she knew she should have believed it, but why?  Where had Alena come from?  This was supposed to be for Danya, for her alone.  She'd followed the Beast's note and come to the hidden mansion in the woods by herself.  He'd kidnapped her and named himself as Everett and taken her atop the very dining table where she now sat, eating, but apparently that wasn't enough.

Alena, her younger sister, had intervened.  Where had Alena come from, anyways?  Danya still didn't know, still hadn't talked with her dearest darling sister.  She had quite a few choice words for her sibling, too.  Having caught her and Everett laying together, naked, on the mansion yard outside, left Danya more than a bit unnerved.  At first she thought it was some odd hallucination, but, no, it couldn't be.

And Everett continued to leave her.  After every time the beast-cursed man claimed Danya's body in order to defeat his curse, he left her soon after.  Where did he go?  The obvious answer was to Alena.  He must have fucked her younger sister, too.  Logical, no doubt, and it helped him alleviate his curse faster, but where did that leave Danya?

She refused to let him exploit her like that.  True, she never thought she and Everett loved each other at first, but what about later?  She was the one who would help him.  She was the one who came at his time of need and accepted him and aided him in defeating the witch's curse and regaining his humanity.  Except, no, that wasn't it at all.

Horatio explained it to her before, too.  He told her about his master's proclivities towards casual dalliances.  Danya wanted to deny it, she wanted to believe that years upon years of being trapped in his beastly form had changed Everett into something better, but apparently not.  Still, that didn't make it alright for him to use her at his whim.

And where was he now?  With Alena, no doubt.  Danya intended to find them both and let them know exactly what she thought of this, too.

She nibbled on the bread pudding, thoughtful, forgetting what was in it.  Horatio stood nearby to attend to her every need.  She liked that, at least.  No matter who Alena thought she was, the servants in the mansion accepted Danya as Everett's mistress.  Or at least Horatio did.  There were more she needed to account for, and she needed to do it soon.

"Did you find out about the clothes?" Danya asked.

Horatio nodded.  "As a matter of fact, yes.  Luck is on our side.  After your most recent coupling with the Master, the mansion seamstress has returned.  Her name is Taya.  She's agreed to fit you for a dress."

"I see," Danya said.  She stuffed a large chunk of bread pudding in her mouth and chased it down with a gulp of coffee.  "Can you take me to her, Horatio?"

"It would be my absolute honor."  He held out his hand to help her from her chair like a true gentleman.  "Shall we?"

She took his hand and smiled.  "Yes."

There was trouble.

Everett smelled it, realized it, but it was too faint for him to fully recognize.  His primal senses continued to dull every time he mated with one of the sisters.  What started as a nose capable of smelling the tiniest minutiae became a still-powerful tool, but less sharp and more general; a dagger compared to a longsword.  How long had he lived like this?  How many years had it taken him to become accustomed to a new way of life?

Decades.  Too many.  He had been so lonely living in the mansion and had taken to wandering the forest in search of companionship.  The deer fled from him, though.  The wolves seemed his best option, except they, too, shunned his advances.  They kept to their small packs and refused to accept him.  And if they did, then what?  He had no way to communicate with them

Now, he barely had a way to speak with Alena or Danya.  He felt shoddy and lacking and unable to explain fully what he needed to tell them.  There was more to this curse than even he knew, and Beatrix, the witch who cursed him in the first place, must have further plans.  This was it, this year.  If she wanted to spite him, to mock him for his inhumanity, she would show herself.  Soon.

At least he knew the general direction of the smell, even if he couldn't recognize the source.  His guest home, where he left Alena.  Was it small trouble?  Was she hungry?  There was food in the cellar there, packed away for the long haul.  He would show her, feed her, keep her sated and safe.  But then what?

Everett knew he should decide between them, choose one woman as a mate, except how?  He enjoyed them both for different reasons, appreciated the nuances between the two.  Not the same, no.  Different.

He wanted them both as his mate.  He needed it.

Danya followed Horatio through the wide halls of the mansion.  They trekked along red carpets, past elegant wall tapestries, and up a winding spiral staircase.  They moved past doors and windows and fancy displays of art on fine pedestals.  She wanted to stop and sample the sights, to inspect everything that interested her, but she didn't have the time.  Also, the fact that she stood naked and without a shred of anything to cover herself besides her hair gave her incentive to rectify this before sightseeing.

Later, when she had more time, she'd explore everything in Everett's mansion, but not now.

Horatio guided her through a servant's passageway off of the main hallway, then into a wide open room.  Wire dress dummies stood on wooden stands, cluttering the floor.  They wore dresses and shirts and elaborate capes that flowed from their shoulders down to mere inches above the ground.  One dummy wore a wedding dress with a long train trailing behind it.  Bolts of cloth leaned against one wall, stacked and sorted by color and type.  Tanned skins of leather lay in piles near the cloth, smelling faintly of stinging salt and bitter tannin.

A woman sat at a large sewing station, humming to herself.  She spun thread on a sewing wheel with artful mastery.  When Horatio walked in, she smiled and greeted him.

"Horatio, hello.  Is this her?  She's rather fetching," the woman said.

Horatio grinned.  "Taya, meet Danya.  She is the Master's new mistress.  I believe she requires some clothing.  Shall I leave her to you?"

Taya laughed.  "It certainly looks like she needs something to wear, doesn't it?  Yes, I'll handle her.  Go, go, tend to your duties and I'll tend to mine."

Horatio nodded.  "Here you are, mistress.  Taya knows what she's doing.  You're in good hands."

"Thank you," Danya said.

With that, he left her in the seamstress's care.

Taya finished up what she was doing and stood.  Danya expected someone far older, but this woman couldn't be more than a few years older than herself.  Pretty, too, and probably with a lovely form, but she hid it beneath a frumpy smock.  Taya's dark blond tresses lay curled beneath a cap with an assortment of needles fixed into it.  Sewing needles, Danya recognized; all sorts and sizes for all different types of jobs.

Taya stepped up and took Danya's measure with a penetrative gaze.  "You're tall, but not so tall.  Quite a nice bust, too.  Wide hips, good.  Thin, but not too thin.  You do eat, yes?  Fairly well, I'd say, but you keep fit?  Is that right?"

"I've eaten more lately," Danya said, remembering her last meal with Everett.  He'd forced her to eat soup while he slavered on her breasts with his gritty tongue, then fucked her from behind while demanding she slice and eat the slab of pork on the plate in front of her.  Then dessert later without him, but she hadn't had a meal that amazing in forever.  Usually she cooked food for her sisters and her father, but it was more simple, easily managed fare.

"Don't go eating too much, or there's no use fitting you; you'll just outgrow it all.  I'd say this is a good look for you, though.  Hearty and comely.  Good breeding stock, you might say.  Nice child-bearing hips.  I imagine Everett enjoys you."  Taya winked at Danya.  "Is it true what Horatio says?  You're here to help revive the mansion?"

Was that it, she wondered?  Was her only purpose here to act as a partner for Everett in order to return these people to their previous lives?  She wanted so much more from all of this, and it upset her to think that maybe there wasn't any.

"I don't know for certain," Danya said.  "It all happened so suddenly.  I'm still trying to figure it out."

"Understandable," Taya said.  "Come, come here.  I'll get my measuring tapes and see what sort of measurements we're working with."

Danya followed Taya through the room to the corner where the seamstress had been working at her spinning wheel before.  She stood, unsure, while the slightly older woman fetched through a teensy desk in search of the tapes.

"This has happened before," Taya said.  "Just so you know.  You aren't the first."

"What do you mean?" Danya asked.

"Do you love him, is that it?  Everett, I mean.  The Master is a kind man for the most part, but he's callous and disregarding, too.  I doubt he understands what he does most of the time.  A pity, really."  Taya swooped over with a measuring tape in hand and tapped on Danya's arms.  "Up you go.  Yes, just like that."

Danya raised her arms in the air and held her chin up high.  No matter what this woman said, she wanted to believe something else.  Whatever everyone thought of Everett, it couldn't be true.  Or, it couldn't be true now, right?  Except she'd seen him with Alena.  Their sweat-soaked bodies pressing together, clearly in the aftermath of some erotic encounter.

"He's bedded women more than once in the past.  Common women from the village nearby, which I imagine is where you're from?  The upper class, too.  He adores holding parties and passing out wine freely, then whispering lovely words into lovely ears.  That's how we came to this mess, I'm told."  The seamstress began taking measurements.

"There's stories," Danya said.  "I don't know how truthful they are.  I haven't asked Everett."

"Truthful enough, I'd say.  There was a witch, Beatrix.  A nice, kind woman, for the most part.  She helped us plenty around here.  Lives in the woods awhile away, or she did.  She magicked up the mansion, the whole lot of it.  There's magic everywhere.  Still works, too."