Candy Houses

by Shiloh Walker

  “Gretel, you poor thing. I am so sorry for your loss.”

  “My…” Gretel looked at Mary and then back at the villager. “My loss? Whatever do you mean?”

  “Child, have you not heard?” Shocked, he looked from Gretel to Mary, and then back. “Your brother Hans was found dead last week. It must have happened shortly after you left his home.”

  Hans was dead?

  Staring at him with stricken eyes, she whispered, “Dead?”

  “Yes. He was in the forest. It would seem he was killed by wild boars.”

  Hans.

  He was dead.

  Gretel turned away and raised a hand to cover her face. Tears stung her eyes. Her heart raced. A wave of nausea struck her.

  Hans was dead.

  She did not know whether to weep or rejoice.

  The question burned inside her, but she did not give voice to it until they were safely away from the village and on their way back to their home within the forest.

  But finally, she could hold it back no longer.

  “You knew about Hans,” she blurted out.

  Mary continued to walk.

  Gretel could not move. Her very legs felt frozen, her feet too heavy to lift.

  “Mary?” she whispered.

  The other woman stopped and sighed. She returned to Gretel’s side, smiling sadly. “You have been like a daughter to me, Gretel. I’ve told you that, haven’t I?”

  “You have. And you know you have been like a mother to me. I love you. With all of my heart, I love you. But please, tell me—did you know about Hans?”

  Mary inclined her head. “I knew.”

  “How long have you known?” She could hardly see through the tears in her eyes.

  “A week.” Mary gazed at Gretel with somber, serious eyes.

  “You knew for a week, and you did not tell me?” Gretel spun away and pressed a hand to her mouth. “Why?”

  “I chose not to.”

  “You would rather I hear it from people who are but strangers to me?” Gretel cried out. “Mary, how could you be so cruel?”

  “I did not do it to be cruel.” She looked away and when she looked back at Gretel, there was unhappiness in her eyes. “I did not tell you, for I worried what you think of me.”

  “What I would think of you?” Gretel shook her head. “But he was killed by wild boars. Why would I think badly of you over that?”

  Mary said nothing. She reached up and toyed with the medallion she wore—it was something she often did when she was sad.

  There was a look in her eyes.

  That look turned Gretel’s blood to ice.

  “Come. We must talk.” Mary looked around the forest and said, “But we cannot do it here.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Come back to me.” Rip’s voice whispered in, filtering past the memories and finding me. Lost inside the memories, I latched onto his voice and let him pull me out.

  I came to and realized we were on the loveseat, with me perched on his lap and his strong arms wrapped around me, his lips at my temple. “Come back to me,” he said again.

  “I am. I did.” I swallowed and my mouth was painfully dry. I felt like I’d been asleep for days—weeks. “Was I sleeping?”

  “No. But you weren’t here either.” He pushed my hair back from my face and cupped my chin, tilting my head back. His brown eyes, warm and concerned, stared into mine. “Where were you?”

  “Remembering.” I caught sight of the bottle of water on the couch next to us and I reached for it. He rested a hand on my back and stroked up and down. I took a sip of water and snuggled against him. I tilted my head back so I could see his face. “Do you ever get lost in your memories?”

  “Not often.” He shook his head, then lowered it and pressed a kiss to my lips. “But my memories are not as dark, are not as grim as yours.”

  “Grim.” I smirked at his unintentional pun. “But you’re a Grimm…aren’t grim memories kind of required?”

  “No.” He smiled and stroked a finger down my cheek. “Some of us were lucky and didn’t have to walk one of the darker roads to get where we are.”

  There was a low, rough sigh off to our side and I turned my head, staring at the girl. She was coming out of it too, I realized.

  “She wasn’t one of them.” I moved off his lap and perched on the edge of the loveseat, watching her. She had so much pain inside her, even unconscious, I could feel it. I licked my lips and looked at him. “She’s supposed to be one of us. I think maybe I’m supposed to guide her.”

  “I figured as much.” He rested a hand low on my back. It managed to be both comforting and bolstering, giving me some very much-needed strength.

  “What if I’m not strong enough?”

  On the couch, she started to move around. Rip leaned in and murmured into my ear, “Don’t be an idiot.” He gave my back one last stroke and then stood. “You can’t do what you do without strength. We both know that.”

  He left the room just as the girl sat up. She took one look at me and screamed.

  I didn’t do anything.

  She stopped screaming and bolted for the door. Then I did something. I shoved off the couch and got between her and the door. “Sit down.”

  She swung out with her fist and I blocked it, caught her other hand as she tried to hit me from that side. Her arms were covered with bruises from where the orin had handled her so roughly. I was as careful as I could be, trying not to make her hurt more but the way she was fighting, it wasn’t that easy.

  Rip intervened. He emerged from the other room and wrapped his arms around her, hauling her back, with less care than I had shown. “Calm down.”

  She elbowed him in the gut. He grimaced and shifted his hold until he could pin her arms to her sides.

  “Let me go!” she screeched.

  And damn—she could really shriek. My ears felt like they were going to split open and bleed. I rubbed my left one. “If you’ll stop fighting, he’d be more than happy to let you go.”

  But she just wasn’t inclined to take our word for it. She continued to struggle, using her foot to slam down on Rip’s instep, trying to ram her head into his nose. Rip stoically took all of it while I stood there and pinched the bridge of my nose. There was a headache building behind my eyes and it was only getting worse.

  Finally, I had enough.

  “Let her go, Rip.”

  Without a word, he did so and when she lunged for me, I hauled off and punched her in the nose. I pulled it—I’m a lot stronger than I look, stronger than her for certain. I didn’t want to seriously hurt her, but I did want her attention. Blood fountained out of her nose and for a few seconds, she was too blinded by the pain and the tears to fight.

  “It’s time for you to calm down and listen to me—I don’t want to hurt you. Neither does he. But you’re not leaving here either.”

  Silence. Save for the odd hitches in her breathing, she didn’t make a sound as she sat there and held a hand to her heavily bleeding nose.

  “Rip, do you have a handkerchief?”

  He produced one from somewhere—the man could probably whip out an AK-47 and a can of whipped cream if you asked him. Prepare for everything, that was Rip. I took the handkerchief and held it out to her. She grabbed it away, glaring at me like I’d forced her to take a poisonous snake by the tail.

  “Now…are you ready to talk?”

  The answer to that question was no.

  It continued to be no for the next hour or so.

  Damn it, she was stubborn.

  “Damn it, you can’t keep me here.” She was scared, she was pissed and she looked like she was about ready to make a run for it—again. She’d already made two attempts. I’d stopped her the first time. Rip had stopped her the second time. After that, she hadn’t tried to run again.

  Somehow, I suspected she was more afraid of Rip than me. She sat in the chair, trying hard not to look at him, and trying hard not to look terrified.

  I stared at
the girl without a lot of sympathy.

  She glared at me and repeated, “You can’t keep me here.”

  “You keep saying that. And you sound so convinced,” I mused. Then I shrugged. “Maybe the correct phrase would be I shouldn’t keep you here. But I can, and I will. I can’t let you go right now. You have no idea the kind of trouble you were messing with last night and until I know you’re safe, you and me are going to be like best buds,” I told her.

  She sneered at me. Okay, the tough girl was back. “And what are you going to do…watch me twenty-four seven for the rest of my life?”

  “Not necessary.” She hadn’t completely fallen for the dark evil promises the book offered, but that didn’t make my job easier. I still didn’t know what I was going to do with her. She wasn’t too far gone, but it was still possible she’d take that final step. If that happened, I’d kill her. If that didn’t happen, I could fail and she would die anyway.

  No matter what happened, she wouldn’t need a twenty-four-seven guard. Either we’d both win, or we’d both lose. I was prepared to handle either outcome, but I was really, really hoping I wouldn’t fail. Of course, if we both lived, I had a feeling she and I weren’t done.

  If that turned out to be the case, she didn’t know it, but I had a feeling she was going to be in for the shock of her life.

  But none of that was going to come any time soon. She wasn’t listening, she didn’t want to listen, so until we could get her to listen, we would have to watch her like a hawk. I didn’t know about Rip, but I was hungry and I was tired. I needed to get some sleep and try to think of where to go from here.

  Across the kitchen, he stood by the back door, playing the not-so-subtle bad cop. He had his arms crossed over a wide chest. He was wearing his devastated black leather coat—he’d have to buy a new one. From the front, it mostly just looked a little battered, a little worn. But the back had a huge piece of material missing by his legs, like it had gotten caught in something. It wasn’t cold enough to need the coat, but that wasn’t why he wore it. It hid a number of weapons and other surprises. He probably felt naked without all of his toys.

  Speaking of toys…

  An idea hit me. She wasn’t going to like it, but I needed to get away from her for a few minutes. I doubted Rip wanted to play babysitter either. We both needed a break. I asked him, “You got any sort of handcuffs on you?”

  If I knew anything about the man, he’d have a dozen different weapons hidden somewhere, as well as a sundry of other gadgets and devices.

  Rip lifted a brow. Then he dipped a hand inside the coat and withdrew a pair of cuffs.

  Our guest freaked.

  “Oh, shit, no.” She lunged for the door and terror gave her both speed and strength. I ended up with an elbow in the gut. Although the injury from the bocan was gone, the area was still tender. I grimaced as pain jolted through me. Unwilling to take any more abuse, I used my foot to take her legs out from under her. She struggled to get back up.

  I was weaker than I’d realized because she almost got away—if Rip hadn’t been there, she would have. He caught her and hauled her to the table. She tried to rack him and he narrowed his eyes.

  “Try that again and I’ll get upset,” he said, his voice flat, his eyes colder than ice.

  She went still, staring at him in utter terror.

  Man, I wish I could inspire that sort of terror with just a few words, a cold look. I usually had to draw a weapon, kick a little butt before anybody showed me any kind of respect. I glared at his back as he cuffed her to the chair, running the cuffs through the ladder back rungs.

  “I’ll find something to tie her legs to the chair,” he said, straightening up and looking at me.

  “Thank you.”

  As he left, the girl started to cry. “Please…please don’t hurt me.”

  Guilt jabbed needles into my heart. There was a look in her eyes, one I’d seen before. One I’d worn before, as well. Sighing, I dropped into the chair across from hers. “We’re not trying to hurt you. We don’t want to hurt you.”

  She didn’t believe me. I’ve got to admit, I can’t say I blame her. But my options here were very limited. Silence stretched out between us. Rip was in the other room, waiting. I didn’t know whether he’d found anything to tie her legs with or not, but he’d been standing outside the room for a couple of minutes, not doing anything, not saying anything.

  “What…what happened to Joey?”

  Joey…? The memory of a young face flashed through my eyes. Young face—demon eyes. Oh, yeah. The boy the orin had possessed. This was not going to help matters any. But I’d be damned if I lied.

  “He’s dead.”

  She started to cry again, deep, ugly sobs. I rested my elbows on my knees and stared at the floor, waited for the storm to pass.

  Finally, she asked, “Why? Why did you kill him?”

  “Because he was going to hurt people,” I said flatly. I nodded towards her arms. “Don’t you remember what he did to you?”

  What little color remained in her face washed away as she lowered her gaze and stared at her arms. I could see the memories in her eyes, fighting to surface.

  “He did that,” I said. “He did it. He used you to protect himself and if he could have done it, he would have killed you to protect himself.”

  “No!” She shook her head. The cuffs rattled as she jerked against them, fighting to get free. “That’s not true.”

  “Then you’re telling me you don’t remember how he grabbed you? Held you between himself and me? You remember. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “He loved me…he wouldn’t hurt me.”

  She needed so desperately to believe that.

  Heaving out a sigh, I said, “He might have loved you. But the man who hurt you last night wasn’t the one you knew. The book saw to that.”

  Shadows skittered across her face. “What are you talking about?”

  “You know what I’m talking about. The book.”

  “You burned my book…and besides, it’s just a book.”

  “No.” I held her gaze and repeated, “No. It’s a lot more than just a book and I think you know it. Your friend wanted power. Well, he got it and it killed him—and make no mistake, that power is what killed him. The power comes from the demon that takes over your body and once that happens, you cease to exist. Your friend was dead long before I showed up.”

  I pushed up from my chair and left the room. I caught Rip’s gaze and shook my head. I didn’t want to mess with the rope for now. She couldn’t get out of here without making noise, and if we heard her, we’d stop her. Right now, she needed to think and I needed to get away from her pain before it choked me.

  It was going to be a long day.

  Three hours later, I was back in the other room. I’d lain down for a little while for a nap, not that it had done me any good. I’d also showered, and that had helped. I no longer felt like I had the stink of demon death clinging to me.

  Now if I could just get through to the girl.

  “If you’re not going to hurt me, then just let me go,” she pleaded.

  “Why?” I leaned back in the chair. Yeah, I felt bad for her. I didn’t like scaring people or freaking them out. But I didn’t feel bad enough to let her go either. Even if I didn’t have this gut-deep knowledge that she was one of us, I couldn’t let her go. Not until I knew she was safe from the orin, which meant convincing her those books were bad, bad news. Which meant convincing her of her own strength, her own worth.

  “Why should I let you go? So you can go back to what you were trying to do the past few nights?”

  “I wasn’t hurting anybody.”

  “Not yet.” I cocked my head and studied her. “But if you had succeeded, you would have. Or at least the things inside you would have, would have used your body to hurt quite a few bodies.”

  She stared at me blankly. “What are you talking about?”

  “Look at your arms, girl. A human couldn’t do that to yo
u—not so easily. Humans just aren’t that strong—how badly do your arms hurt? Have you ever hurt like that before? He almost shattered your bones just by holding you. Humans can’t do that. But he did. Remember his face. Remember how his eyes looked…he wasn’t human anymore, and that book is part of the reason behind it.”

  She shook her head. “That’s insane.”

  “Is it? Apparently you believe in stuff like witchcraft, magic. Why is so hard to believe in monsters? Demons? Soulstealers?”

  “Soulstealers?”

  I nodded. “Yes. Soulstealers. That’s what took your friend over—that was what killed him. That was what you were summoning the night I found you. You were getting ready to help them manifest and the first thing they would have done was set up housekeeping inside you and you… Well, you would have ceased to exist after a while.”

  “That’s not true.” Her voice shook as she said it and she wouldn’t look at me.

  “Yes, it is. They didn’t tell you that part…but then again, why would they? They promised you power, didn’t they? Let me guess…you just want some power so you can have a little more control over your life. Make good things happen instead of the bad things.” I lifted a brow. “How close am I?”

  She shook her head. “You’re wrong. Nobody promised me anything.”

  “And I bet the book just dropped right out of the sky, didn’t it?”

  She flushed and looked away. Abruptly, the passive and submissive prisoner disappeared. She snarled at me and jerked against the cuffs. “Let me fucking go!” she shouted.

  Rip chose that moment to join us. I gave him a faint smile as I eyed the rope in his hands.

  “Took you a long time to find it.”

  Rip shrugged. “I was kind of hoping we wouldn’t need it. But she’s not listening, is she?”

  “No.” I had no idea where he’d found the rope, but then again, I hadn’t been in the house that long. For all I knew, the landlord could have had some stashed down in the basement.

  She tried to kick him as he crouched down in front of her. He shot me a look. Rolling my eyes, I joined him and crouched down out of kicking range, and forced one ankle back, held it still. He tied it and then we repeated the process on the other side. I had to fight a wave of weariness when I stood. Leaning against the table, I let him finish up—using more of the rope just above and below her knees. Rip might have been the original boy scout. He believed in covering all the bases.