by J. C. Nelson
We glowered at each other.
“Something’s happened to Arianna?” Wyatt stood at the top of the stairs, dressed in a fuzzy green bathrobe. He walked down the stairs and over to me. “Tell me, is Arianna all right?”
I shot a triumphant glance to his mother, then fixed my eyes on him. “That depends a lot on you.”
Nineteen
MRS. PENDLEBROOK GAVE me a look of death, then turned to her son. “Now, Wyatt—”
“Mum, I want to hear what she has to say. Ms. Locks, is it? I believe Arianna mentioned you. The accountant who owns a bookstore, right?” Wyatt sat beside his mother and poured himself a cup of tea. The two of them together made it hard to look that way, with the sheer amount of magic pouring from them.
“Bookstore. Right.” I made a mental note to remind Ari to leave me out of her lies, assuming I could convince Prince Charming here to wake her up. “Ari got”—I glanced at Mrs. Pendlebrook—“hurt. She’s in a coma, and the doctors think that hearing the voices of people she’s in a ‘special relationship’ with might help.”
Mrs. Pendlebrook practically spat on me. “She means she wants you to kiss the girl, son.”
Wyatt’s face drained of color, a look of sheer terror on it. “Never without Arianna’s permission.”
“She isn’t going to wake up to give you permission if you don’t.”
He sat back on the couch, then looked over to his mother. “Mum, can you tell me what those things were?”
“Demons.”
He nodded, not the least bit shocked or surprised.
“And why exactly would a metaphysical creature have any argument with me, let alone desire to harm me?”
His mother looked at me for a moment, the pain in her eyes unmistakable.
I cut in before she could answer. “Ari. They know you could help Ari, and that’s why they were after you. To prevent you from helping her.”
He nodded. “So a kiss would possibly help her?”
“It’s as good a theory as anything else I’ve got.” I waited in the silence, trying to figure out what his answer would be.
“Son, it’s not just a kiss. Generally speaking, the prince—the person who wakes the young lady is committing to a long-term relationship with her.” Mrs. Pendlebrook put her hand on Wyatt’s, drawing his eyes to her.
He shook his head. “Kissing is a simple courtship or attraction ritual, not related to relationship bonds, legal, or otherwise.”
His mother took his other hand, and squeezed them until her knuckles turned white. “Not for princes.”
In the moments that passed, I counted the ticks from the grandfather clock in the hallway. When he spoke, I nearly jumped.
“I don’t make any decisions in haste, Ms. Locks. I prefer to meditate on matters and consider the long-term consequences of major decisions. Anything beyond breakfast is worthy of contemplation.” Wyatt stood, brushing the wrinkles from his robe.
I took a business card from my purse and placed it on the coffee table. “Please. I’ll do anything for Ari.”
Wyatt nodded. “I believe three days is an appropriate time to consider this. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to apply my nightly skin mask and record the day in my journal. It was a pleasure being saved from demons by you, Ms. Locks.” With that, he kissed his mother good night and climbed the stairs out of view.
The room grew colder in his absence, to the point where I could’ve stored meat on the tabletop. I rose and brushed myself off, but before I could speak, she interrupted me.
“Tell me about the girl.”
“Ari. Five foot three, weighs less than a bag of coffee, red hair. She’s one hell of a partner. My best friend. She was doing pretty well in college until she met your son.” I stuck with the good bits first.
Mrs. Pendlebrook nodded. “I assume his Friday-night volunteer efforts at the animal shelter were, in fact, dates?”
“Maybe. Ari doesn’t exactly tell me where she goes. She’s too coy about the whole thing. You know I’m not an accountant, right?”
She rose, walked over, and gave me a hug. “Of course not. I’m going to have to explain everything to my son now. Tell him the truth about myself. About everything.”
“Thank Kingdom. That’ll make it easier for Ari. She’s so afraid of people knowing what she is, she’d rather lie. You know he bought this line about her hellhound having mange?”
She stiffened at my words, stared into my eyes as if I were a crystal ball, then hissed. “She’s a princess.”
Right there, the tension crept back into my shoulders. I looked around, noting where we were. What I could hit her with if she attacked me. “Yes, through no fault of her own. And a seal bearer.”
If I’d told her Ari was a stripper with piercings and tattoos, she’d have reacted better. Her eyes narrowed, her fists clenched. “Of what family?”
“Arianna Thromson, of the Third Royal Family.”
She let out a breath of air in a long sigh. “It could be worse. Her mother was one of my chief supporters for High Queen, and one of my better friends. How is Janeal?”
“Dead. Cancer. Dad’s dead too. Died two years ago. So I suggest you be polite to Ari. And I suggest you consider what you say to your son very carefully. Because if he hurts her, I’ll make him wish the demons had caught him.”
Mrs. Pendlebrook nodded at me, her face set like steel. “My son owes you his life. Whether or not he owes your friend his love is another question entirely. Now, if you don’t mind, it’s going to be a long night and day for me.”
I walked to the door, then looked back. “If you really want to pay me back, there’s something you could do.”
“Yes, young lady?”
“Queen Mihail is the one who did this to Ari. She was angry about something that happened to her son. I need to charge her. I need to do it in the Court of Queens.” When I spoke, she shuddered.
She walked over and put one hand on the door. “Wyatt is old enough to decide if that world is one he wants to tolerate. I’ve made my decision. I won’t be going back there, for any reason. I’ll contact you when Wyatt’s made his decision. A decision I hope you’ll respect.” With that, she opened the door.
I stepped out into the darkness, but before she could close it, a thought occurred to me. “Did you know Fairy Godfather?”
She nodded, and stepped out onto the porch. “He helped me start my new life here. Imported the crystal for my barriers, arranged my wards.”
“Queen Mihail did something to him. I have a source who tells me he’s constrained. Does that mean anything to you?”
She frowned, and closed her eyes. “How much do you actually know about your Fairy Godfather?”
I knew a lot, actually. A lot about the last eight years. Some about the previous ten, and, well, almost nothing about the time before that. I had the contact number for one of Grimm’s old agents, but the hospital only allowed calls on Tuesdays.
“Some problems aren’t spoken of in polite company, but as High Queen, I had access to secrets long buried. A constraint is a limit on power. Ask yourself a simple question, Ms. Locks: What sin would a fairy commit that the others would agree to place limits on his powers? To be bound?”
I refused to allow the shock inside to show. There’d be hours in the night to pace my kitchen and think about it.
Before Mrs. Pendlebrook shut the door, she looked up at me once more. “And before you think about meddling, answer this: What sin would a fairy commit that he would agree to be bound?”
* * *
I TRIED TO make my way home. Walking six blocks, not a big deal. Getting a cab to my apartment, not a big deal. Calling the elevator, not a big deal. When the doors closed, and the elevator began to sink, my anxiety shot upward as fast as the elevator went downward.
Then it began to pick up steam, falling faster and faster. Our building had only two basements, so either the building architects had made a serious mistake or things weren’t going quite as planned. That and t
he elevator buttons all glowed bright red. Now the elevator flew so fast I floated, suspended for a moment, then pinned to the ceiling, and still it picked up speed.
I clenched my jaw and tightened my gut, forcing blood up into my head. The elevator began to rattle and shake from side to side, then with a deafening roar, brilliant red light burst from every crevice. A moment later, the elevator slowed, allowing me to stand on the ceiling and grab the handrail. A good thing too, since a moment later it lost enough speed to drop me to the ground. Then it ground to a halt, and the doors opened.
I expected flames. Instead, I got the dim orange lights of the dealing room. In the center, Malodin waited, his hands behind his back.
“Handmaiden, what have you been up to?” His voice made the floor vibrate.
I stepped out of the elevator, wishing I had a squirt gun with some holy water. “Just following up on the information you gave me. Turns out, there were a few demons interested in killing a prince. A prince I need intact to help my friend. You wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you?”
He parted his lips, showing the rows of shark teeth. “Now, that would be downright evil. We have an agreement. Speaking of which, where are my harbingers? Why haven’t you unleashed them to wreak havoc on the city, and then the world?” His tongue slithered across his lips, then flicked out to brush the end of his nose.
“Harbingers. Yeah. You know, the apocalypse didn’t exactly come with a user manual. How am I supposed to unleash them?” Malodin could’ve made things a lot easier on himself with good directions.
He held out his hand. “You call to them. They’ll present themselves to you. Then you provide their steeds, and they get to work preparing the end.” A puddle of hellfire blazed into existence on his palm. “Like that. I called, it came.” He flicked his wrist, and I rolled to the side as an arc of fire passed over me.
“What’s the matter, Marissa? Afraid of a few little burns? You know, in case you haven’t had time to read your contract, you’ll be spared. You’ll live out the rest of your life in what we leave.” He summoned another puddle of fire and lobbed it at me underhand.
“I’m not going to bring about the apocalypse.” I stood my ground as he approached, bringing another palm of fire up in front of me.
“You will, or I’ll unleash my armies now. You know, for a few eternities, everyone thought that a proper end of the world simply couldn’t be done. I knew better. I just needed the right person. Unleash the harbingers. Call down your plagues and finish our deal.” He held his hand up under my chin, where the fire leaped and sizzled.
I took a deep breath, running my thumb over Liam’s ring, then reached out and scooped the fire out of his hand.
His eyes widened, their vertical, snakelike slits becoming twice their normal size.
It felt like holding a warm sponge, not a primal force of destruction. Then I put my hands together and wrung it out, like I’d watched Liam do so many nights at his forge. “Keep your demons where they are.” I turned and walked back to the open elevator.
“If you need any assistance, take an elevator. I’ve made a few adjustments for you. They all lead to Inferno now, for you.”
I punched the floor for my apartment and grabbed onto the handrail. The ride back was worse than the ride down, since I knew what was coming. When the doors finally opened, allowing me to stumble down my hallway, and into my apartment, my stomach continued to do flips.
In the end, I forced myself to go to bed, and spent the night thrashing, entangled in nightmares of demons and destruction.
Twenty
THE NEXT DAY, I went into work. Now, you might be wondering, “Why go to work if the world is ending?” Truth was, I figured the world was always ending. Malodin accidentally gave me hope by admitting that so many attempts at an apocalypse failed before, even demons didn’t think it was possible to pull off. So I’d try to avoid triggering his instant apocalypse, and try to figure a way out of the coming one. In the meantime, there was work to be done.
I met Rosa at the front door, proof that she didn’t sleep in the Agency at night. “Morning, Rosa.”
She gave me the same glare she always did, then made the sign of the cross with her middle finger. I think it was meant to protect her and flip me off at the same time.
“Good seeing you too.” By the time we opened for business, I had all the previous day’s paperwork organized, reloaded three magazines for my gun, made a fresh pot of coffee, and generally speaking, felt pretty good about the state of my business. I’d at least keep doing what Grimm wanted. Helping people solve their problems, so long as their problem wasn’t that the world was ending.
In fact, I was in such a good mood that when Rosa buzzed me to come to the lobby, I hummed the entire way there. In the lobby, my enchanters wrestled, biting and scratching. I’ve got to say that whatever was under those fingernails, it would probably leave them both with skin infections.
I looked at Rosa. “Why can’t you handle this?”
“Not my problem.” She went back to playing solitaire on her computer.
I picked up the nearest fire extinguisher and sprayed them both until they were about ready to pass out from carbon dioxide poisoning. “Step away from each other. You, tell me what started this.” I pointed to one of them, I think the woman.
“She called me smelly,” he said. Oops.
“You both smell like the ass end of an ogre. If I buy you new bathrobes, will you shower?”
They gave up glaring at each other and glared at me instead.
“We could curse you,” said the enchantress.
“Already done.”
“Be nice, and we’ll grant you a blessing.”
“All stocked up. I want you two showered and changed. You can conjure in Agency robes today.” I pointed to the staff door, and they shuffled away.
The entrance bell rang, and Beth practically bounced into the lobby.
“Ms. Locks! You won’t believe what I can do!” She twirled, and took out her kazoo. Then she began to hum. Behind her, a ball of furry white evil pranced into the room. I took a closer look.
“That’s not the test one.”
Beth held up her palms. “I found him in an alley, eating the face off a cab driver. I’ve been practicing all night. Roll over.” She hummed, a note that shimmered with power.
The poodle’s eyes glowed red as it rolled over. Its jaws quivered, and it drooled and shook with rage as it rose and bared its teeth.
“Sit.” She hummed again.
It dropped to its front legs and gnashed its bloody muzzle.
Beth leaned down to the poodle, so close that flecks of blood from its muzzle flew onto her cheeks. “Play dead.”
It leaped for her, grabbing her by the hair, clawing at her with its nails as it tried to find a way to tear her throat out.
Beth threw it to one side, and then followed up with a hum that split the glass in the front door. “Down!” The poodle collapsed in a heap.
I walked over and stood Beth up, checking her head. Blood trickled from one ear where the poodle ripped a piercing loose. “You need to be more careful. Those aren’t toys. They’re terrors, and I’d rather you didn’t wind up as a pile of meat.”
Beth shook as she rocked back and forth, holding her arms across her chest. “Stop staring at me.”
“Sorry. Anytime I see that many hooks, I want to hang a shower curtain from them.” I waved her on back to a practice room, where animal control had left four more poodles caged. All of them collected from the scenes of grisly murders.
“I was able to control them, I swear.” Beth pulled at her ear where the poodle had nipped her.
“I’m sure you were. It’s going to take time and practice. Remember—you let your guard down around these, and they might gnaw your intestines out through your nose.” I sat down in a chair and watched her go through the first few notes.
Beth hummed, and they sat. Hummed, and they rolled over. One particularly sharp note kep
t them from devouring a sausage stuck in through the cage.
Rosa slammed her fist on the practice room door, the closest she ever came to a polite knock, and marched in with a stack of papers. “It can’t wait.” She smacked them down in front of me, then skittered out like a cockroach under a kitchen light.
I glanced at the top of the pile and resigned myself to necessity.
“She really can’t stand you.” Beth held her kazoo while she shut the door.
“She really can’t stand anyone. You know, as surly as Rosa is, Fairy Godfather told me once she’s married and has six kids. She’s right, this can’t wait.” I pulled the top sheet and read it over. “Inspection Report,” it read. When I finished it, I clicked my pen and signed my name, authorizing payment.
Then I went on to the next one, and the next. After a few minutes, I realized Beth hadn’t played a note in quite a while. She watched me take another form, so I passed one in her direction. “These are reports. Fairy Godfather funds a chain of drug-recovery houses for women, and orphanage/foster homes. Fail to meet code, or his requirements, and the operators probably don’t get a paycheck.”
Beth sat down in the chair beside me. “I was in foster care. Bounced from home to home, because of the rats. I wonder if it was one of yours.”
“I can find out. Don’t recall ever having a rodent-related inspection failure, and I’ve reviewed these for the last five years. Didn’t you say you had a mom and dad?”
Beth looked down at the table. “They adopted me when I was fourteen. Dad never said anything about the rats, and Mom just set traps everywhere. I ran away when they started getting sick from the rats.” She frowned as a thought fought off silver poisoning to make it through her brain. “Why do you need orphanages?”
We got that kind of question a lot. “Fairy Godfather is powerful, but one of the most common wishes is one that can’t be granted by magic. People want kids. They want a baby and think you can wish one into existence.”
“You can’t?”