The fire breathers came next. Oohs and ahs murmured throughout the hall as everyone craned their necks to see the men that ate the fire and then breathed it back out in large, flaming bursts. Even Cinderella found herself becoming enthralled at the spectacle. So much so, that for one small moment, she forgot her troubles.
The feast was winding down when the minstrels took their honored place on the platform. One held a lute and the other a harp. They began with a fanciful tune that reminded Cinderella of butterflies dancing in a meadow and the clear, fresh waters of the stream where she used to play. A handful of graceful dancers emerged from behind the curtain. Their merry laughter floated through the air as they swayed back and forth to the gentle rhythm. Then the tune deepened, becoming more dramatic. The curtain parted to reveal a dancer dressed in a rich, purple gown. Cinderella never would’ve given her a second glance had she not looked over and seen Edward’s face. He was mesmerized by the dancer, leaning forward in his seat as if he were trying to close the distance between them. Her body was slender and lithe, and there was something feline about her soft, precise steps. She might’ve been beautiful, but it was impossible to tell because her face was obscured by two large peacock feathers that added to her allure. The dancer made her way over to the royal table, where she began dancing directly in front of Edward. Her movements were slow and hypnotic, drawing Edward in. In fluid movements, she unwound the long fabric that was woven into her braid, releasing hair so ebony that it seemed alive against the flickering candlelight. Cinderella’s breath caught when the girl held out the ribbon to Edward. He accepted the offering, raised it to his nose, and sniffed. This brought a round of applause from the guests. The music grew more intense, and the girl started dancing wildly. Someone near the back of the hall started clapping. Others joined in until nearly the entire room was clapping feverishly to the beat of the music. Then without warning, the music stopped. The hall drew in a collective breath, suspended by the intensity of it. The next event happened so quickly that Cinderella thought for a moment that she’d imagined it. The girl leaned over the table and kissed Edward full on the lips. Before he could react, she scampered away and disappeared behind the curtain. Murmurs ran through the crowd. The music began again, as if nothing had happened, but all eyes turned to Cinderella. She wasn’t prepared for the jealousy that burned hot through her veins or the way her face stung.
Her humiliation was complete when Seraphina whispered in her ear. “See what thy self absorption has caused? You have been outdone by some traveling minstrel. You have spent one too many nights nursing thy broken heart when you should have been focusing on thy relationship with the prince. Do not think that his love for thee will never wax cold. The summer always gives way to autumn. The kingdom is in thy grasp, and you are throwing it away over some peasant!”
Tears welled in her eyes.
“Do not dare fall apart here in front of these people,” Seraphina hissed. “Lift up thy chin and pretend to be the princess that they think you are.”
Cinderella squared her jaw and merely nodded. Eyes were still watching her. She didn’t know how much more scrutiny she could endure in one evening. Thankfully, all attention was whisked away from her in the next moment.
A rustle of excitement, as tangible as rushing winds, fluttered through the room. All turned to see the final performer—Wisteria. Her long, silk gown was the color of deep-blue water, and a crown of sapphires shimmered in the elaborate braid that wound around the top of her wavy hair. She walked to the platform with such a commanding presence that all eyes were fixed upon her. Cinderella’s pulse quickened. Wisteria didn’t look at all like a broken-down woman whose son was locked away in the dungeon. In fact, she carried herself triumphantly, as if she’d somehow won. Did that mean that Rushton had escaped? Hope fluttered in her breast.
The minstrels began to play a melancholy tune. Wisteria took a deep breath that appeared to draw the energy in the room to her. Her arresting voice started low at first and then increased in volume. She sang of a friendless traveler in a far-away land, searching for a warm fire by which to warm his bones, a bowl of pottage to ease his hunger, clean straw on which to lay his head. It struck Cinderella how similar to the friendless traveler she was. She was a prisoner in this friendless place, forced to play a part she did not want, and all because of what? Wealth? Prestige? Caught up in her thoughts, Cinderella scarcely realized the song was over until she heard Wisteria speak.
“This next song is for my son, Rushton.”
Cinderella gasped.
“This is outrageous!” she heard Seraphina say.
“Wherever you are, wherever you go, I hope you will find happiness and that which you most desire.”
A thrill of elation ran over Cinderella. Rushton had escaped! She felt giddy and a little dizzy. No wonder Wisteria looked triumphant. He had escaped!
She looked at the royal table. Queen Loreena’s face was cherry red, and she looked furious. King Aalexander had his hand on her arm and was whispering in her ear. It looked like he was trying to calm her down, trying to prevent her from causing a scene. She looked at Edward. He seemed equally distressed.
Cinderella’s gaze went back to Wisteria, and she was shocked to see Wisteria staring at her. In some inexplicable way that she didn’t understand, Wisteria seemed to be stripping all of her carefully crafted pretense away. She was gazing into her soul—weighing it out and finding her lacking. The condemnation emanating from her knowing eyes was so tangible that it almost burned. Cinderella met the gaze full on, jutting out her chin. Wisteria had been the cause of all of the trouble—the reason that she and Rushton would be forced to live separate lives—lives of desperation and loneliness. The resentment that boiled up inside of her left her feeling nauseous.
“This next song is entitled, My Daisy,” Wisteria said, her piercing eyes never leaving Cinderella’s.
The music began to flow. Wisteria’s voice was rich and haunting. The lyrics were invisible hands that reached out in one fell swoop and carved out Cinderella’s heart.
I walked in the meadow alone
Beneath the bright azure sky
And the light on her so shone.
My beautiful daisy, please don’t cry
Petals made of gold, a delicate hand to hold
Petals open, petals close, petals are the day’s eye.
Love so pure. Love so true, only love can be this bold.
My all-consuming breath.
I’ll love thee e’en till death.
To die. To live.
All for thee shall I give.
No more tears, my love.
For I shall be watching thee from up above.
The music trailed off, leaving a melancholy ember smoldering in the evening air. Princess or not, Cinderella could no longer control her emotions. She sat there, looking straight ahead, seeing nothing, tears rolling unabashed down her face.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Accident
Goosebumps rose on Elle’s flesh as she sat on the front steps, hugging her arms tightly. Winter was just around the corner, and there was a bite in the air. She wished she’d opted to wear a coat rather than the lightweight jacket she’d thrown over her sweater on the way out the door this morning. She looked up at the sooty clouds that were churning overhead. It looked like the bottom could fall out any minute, dumping either sleet or snow.
Her strange conversation with Adele kept rolling through her mind as she looked at the front yard and street, which wasn’t busy this time of day. She’d only seen a handful of cars passing by in the time she’d been sitting on the steps. A large blackbird, flying overhead, caught her attention. For a moment, she let her mind get lost in the swift strokes of its wings as it caught the air and soared upward to the clouds. Then, it surprised her by circling around a few more times before landing on a lower branch of the large cottonwood tree beside the front window of The Chocolate Fountain. She had the uncanny impression that the bird was somehow watching her, bu
t then she shrugged off the thought. She was really starting to lose it!
There was so much she wanted to talk to Adele about. She ran through all of the jumbled pieces, trying to somehow fit them together so that they made sense. There was the mirror—or rather, the girl in the mirror. Who was she? Was she a friend? Some hidden part of herself? And then there was Adele’s magic. Her chocolate had the power to make one remember or forget, and there was the part about starting a fire with the flick of her finger. Also, Adele could read minds. A tremor went through her as she thought about the one thing she wished she could forget—the shadow crawler! Would it attack again? How was she going to protect herself? And then there was the strange vision about Rush and the castle—the feeling of having known Rush forever. The feeling of being swept up in a love so strong that it had the power to consume her.
That sick feeling of impending doom was getting stronger by the minute, and it didn’t help to have Adele, confirming those feelings! In the past, she could pass off Adele’s eccentricity to the ramblings of an endearing crazy lady, but now … Now, she was starting to believe her! That was the scariest part of all. Despite the cold, a sweat broke across her forehead, and she had to will herself to take deep breaths to calm down. In … out … in … out.
She heard the hum of a motorcycle engine before she saw it. Then, she looked down the road where it came into view. It was Rush and Jack, and they were going fast—too fast! Rush was leaning forward, his body taut as if he were solely focused on the road in front of him. She stood and shoved her hands into her pockets. Later, she would remember every excruciating detail. How the bike hardly slowed as they turned into the parking lot adjacent to the front steps. The scream that tore through her throat as she watched the bike slide across the gravel. The sharp pinging as rocks sprayed into her face, mixed with the horror of seeing Jack go flying through the air before landing in a crumpled heap, facedown in the gravel.
She would vaguely remember running over to Rush and helping him to his feet. He ripped off his helmet and dropped it to the ground. The murderous look in his eyes was not what she expected to see. She caught his arms. “Are you okay?”
“Where did it go?” he demanded through clenched teeth.
“Where did what go?”
“The dragon!”
A sense of horror overtook her as her body began to shake. Their whole world was spinning out of control! Her voice cracked. “There’s no dragon. You had a wreck.”
He swore under his breath. “It was right there—the same fire-breathing dragon that destroyed an entire company of men! The dragon that crushed my bones in its talons and took me prisoner.”
“You had a wreck,” she repeated.
He blinked and then focused on her as if seeing her for the first time. “What happened?”
“You had a wreck,” she repeated a third time in a shaky voice. She pointed. “Jack’s not moving! We have to help him!” They hurried to his side as the front door to The Chocolate Fountain flew open and Rae and Adele ran out.
Rae took one look at Jack on the ground and burst into tears. “Oh, no!” she cried, putting her hands over her mouth.
“We heard the commotion and feared the worst,” Adele said, catching Elle’s eyes.
Rush knelt down beside Jack and turned him over. Jack’s eyes were closed, and his breathing was labored. A river of blood was pouring out from underneath his helmet, and the fabric of his jeans was ripped from one leg, revealing a large wound of torn flesh that resembled hamburger meat. Elle fought the urge to wretch as a wave of dizziness assaulted her.
“Come on, man. Wake up,” Rush urged. Elle could hear the hysteria building in his voice. “Come on, man!” He began shaking Jack’s arm. Rush looked at her, panic etched over his face. “Call 911!”
She retrieved her phone from her pocket and hurriedly placed the call. “Hello!” she yelled into the phone. “We have an emergency! There’s been a bike accident, and Jack has been knocked unconscious.” Even as she answered questions from the dispatcher, her eyes went to Rae who’d knelt down on the other side of Jack.
She was weeping while repeating the same phrase over and over. “Wake up, Jack! Please, wake up. Please!”
Tears welled in Elle’s eyes. It all felt surreal—like a nightmare. “He’s bleeding from the head!” she yelled into the phone. “Please! We need help!”
“Is he wearing a helmet?” came the voice over the line.
“Yes!” She gripped the phone tighter.
“Help is on the way. Please remain calm. Do not attempt to remove the helmet. Do not attempt to move him.”
“Don’t remove the helmet, and don’t move him!” she yelled to Rush.
“Keep me on the line until the paramedics get there,” the dispatcher instructed. “Is he breathing?”
“Yes, but barely.”
“Every time he breathes, I want you to say now.”
She crouched down beside Rush. Time seemed to stand still as she watched Jack’s chest. Her voice sounded small in her ears as she yelled out the words to the cadence of his shallow breaths. “Now … now … now!”
Jack’s eyes fluttered, and he made a motion of trying to talk. Rush put a hand on his arm. “Help is on the way.”
Sirens sounded in the evening air.
“They’re coming!” Elle breathed, going weak with relief. “Please, hurry!”
Rush had taken off his hoodie and was pressing it to Jack’s head to stay the bleeding.
“You need to get something to stop the bleeding,” the dispatcher said.
“We already did!” she yelled into the phone.
The paramedics stepped up behind them and took over.
“They’re here,” she said into the phone. “I’m going to let you go. Thank you!” she breathed as she ended the call.
She watched as the paramedics checked Jack’s vitals. “His blood pressure is plummeting, and he’s lost a lot of blood! We’ve got to get him in the ambulance … NOW!” They lifted Jack onto a stretcher and placed an oxygen mask over his face. Rae was right by his side, holding his hand.
One of the paramedics shot Rae a sympathetic look. “I’m afraid we’ll have to take it from here. We’ll do everything we can to help him.”
She nodded, a stricken look on her pale face. They watched as the paramedics put him into the ambulance and then sped off, going full speed with the sirens blaring.
Adele put an arm around Rae. “Let’s get you inside.”
“No,” Rae protested, her eyes wide. “I have to get to the hospital!”
“Me too!” Rush said, raking both hands through his hair.
A police officer stepped up. He was surveying the scene and scribbling notes on a clipboard. He looked at Rush. “I need to ask you a few questions.”
Elle cringed at the look of raw fear that twisted over Rush’s face as he nodded. Then the implication of what was about to happen pelted over her. Rush had been involved in another car accident before coming to Tower Heights—an accident that had left a guy dead. This was not going to end well.
“Is that your bike?” the officer asked.
“Yes,” Rush said.
“And I assume you were the one driving. Is that correct?”
Time seemed to be suspended as Rush looked at her. Anguish was written over his face. He was about to speak those fateful words that would change his world forever. An admission of guilt might land him in jail, considering this was his second offense with the same crime. Then for some inexplicable reason, Elle’s gaze was drawn to Adele who seemed to be trying to convey some critical piece of information. She remembered Adele’s words earlier about courage and how she was stronger than she thought.
“Were you driving the bike?” the officer repeated, a trace of impatience in his voice.
Elle stepped up, forcing the words from her throat. “No, I was.”
* * *
Even though Edward kept asking his dad to explain the shadow crawler or whatever that thing was, his
dad kept telling him that it wasn’t the right time. His dad irritated the heck out of him sometimes! That thing was wicked! He’d tried to explain that to his dad, but it fell on deaf ears. His dad even had the audacity to suggest that maybe the shadow crawler had gotten all of the information it needed and wouldn’t bother him again—whatever that meant. And what was all of that crazy talk about Rush being his dad and Wisteria’s weak spot? The whole thing was nuts, like they’d left reality and stepped into some strange sci-fi world or something.
How was Rush connected to his dad? His mind went back to that horrible vision of blackness where Rush was his tormentor. Anger rose in his breast. He was really starting to hate that guy! Everywhere he turned, Rush seemed to be in the way. An image of Elle with her lush blonde hair and expressive eyes rose up before him, and he could almost feel her touch and smell her light floral perfume. The hurt that wafted over him blindsided him, leaving a sick feeling in his gut. He still couldn’t believe that she’d outright dumped him! After all they’d been through together, and she didn’t even have the decency to tell him in person. He’d told himself when it first happened that they were through—that he never wanted anything else to do with her. But strangely enough, it was Elle that he most wanted to talk to right now. She would understand what he was going through because she’d experienced the shadow crawler too. Also, he had a feeling that Elle knew more about this whole thing than she was letting on. Before he could talk himself out of it, he picked up his phone and pressed her number, his heart in his throat, as it rang. He briefly wondered if she might hang up on him the moment she heard his voice. He’d laid it on pretty thick with Lynessa today at the locker, and he could tell that it made Elle furious. A smile played on his lips. Did that mean she still had feelings for him? Maybe. He scowled when it went to voicemail. He thought about leaving her a message, but the words got caught in his throat, so he ended the call and threw down the phone where it bounced on his mattress. He and Elle had a history together. Heck, they’d been an item since elementary school. This thing with Rush Porter would blow over. He knew Rush’s type. Elle was smart enough to eventually see through the tough-guy, rebel-without-a-cause facade. And when he left her high and dry with her world crashing down around her, she’d come running back to him the way she always had before. But could he wait? Could he find it within himself to forgive and forget? She’d hurt him, after all. Deep down, he already knew the answer to the question. He couldn’t imagine not being with Elle. She was a part of him. Of course he would see it through. Whatever it took, he was up for the task.
Love Spell: Book 2 of The Grimm Laws Page 26