Aura nudged Snow. “Tell her.”
“Right, um...” Peanut dashed by just as Snow glanced down at the floor. His whiskers twitched as he stopped to squeak at her. “Mice! Lots of mice. In her bed.”
Bella made a face. “Ew. Count me out.”
Punzie called, “Hey, can we eat sometime before Flasher Barbie over here climbs up on the table?”
“Afraid I’ll give you a run for your money, Punzie?” Cindy spilled some wine as she stood up and jutted her hips to a tune that must have been playing in her own head.
“Oh, please. Like you could balance on a stage, let alone dance on one.” Punzie snorted.
Cindy wagged her finger at Punzie. “I’m going to ignore that partially because I’m feeling great about screwing over Trevor and partially because at the moment, that might be true.”
Snow clapped her hands. “Okay, no sense waiting for Granny any longer.”
She reached into the refrigerator and pulled out the salad and dressing. Bella grabbed the vegetables and pot roast, and Aura rummaged around in a drawer for serving utensils.
They ate in relative silence, with nothing but the tick of the clock and the scrape of cutlery on plates interrupting the calm.
It was clear they were all wondering the same thing.
Where was Granny?
The next morning, Snow was awakened by a soft rapping. She threw the covers off and climbed out of bed, shuffling to the door. Aura whispered, “Snow, it’s me.”
She opened the door to discover a frantic-looking Aura standing before her. Dark rings drew circles around her green eyes, her hair was tied into a frenzied knot, and she was wearing the same clothes she’d had on the night before.
She rushed into the room and closed the door behind her softly.
Snow yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “You look as if you haven’t slept a wink.”
“I haven’t.” Aura scurried to the window to cover it with a pillowcase and spun back toward Snow. She grabbed a small bottle from her back pocket, unscrewed the cap and gulped its contents. It had the word ‘energy’ slashed across it in pointy blue letters.
Aura wiped her mouth and Snow said, “Aura, why don’t you have a seat? You look like you could use a rest.”
Aura cracked her neck and danced in place. She jabbed the air a few times. “I’m fine—just need to stay awake long enough to get through group.”
Right, it was Monday. The first day they would all attend therapy together.
Snow felt a concrete weight settle into her stomach. She was dreading the session. Dreading seeing Jack again. Especially knowing that he had no idea who she was.
Or did he?
One problem at a time, Snow.
“What kept you up all night, Aura?”
Aura jittered around the room like a buzzing fly. She opened Snow’s closet and filtered through the few belongings hanging from the rod.
“I was waiting up for Granny. I wanted to see if somehow I could recognize her, lift a vibe from her or a memory, anything that would fill a piece of this fucked-up puzzle.”
Snow watched as Aura shut the closet, wondering what the heck the princess was doing, but understanding that the woman was already on the edge.
“And?”
Aura opened the desk drawer. “And what?” She lifted up Cotton’s blanket as he slept. He made a soft mewing sound and rolled over.
Snow tapped her foot. “Did you uncover her identity?”
Aura was on the floor now, her head lodged under the desk. “No. And do you know why?”
“Enlighten me.”
Aura stuck her head out. “Because she never came home.”
Snow’s mouth dropped. “What?”
Aura crawled out from beneath the desk and went to inspect under the bed. “Yep.” Her voice was muffled as she shimmied her narrow hips under the squeaky metal frame. “First time since I’ve been here that she hasn’t come home at all.”
A sinking sensation swept over Snow. This was bad. Very bad. She felt it instinctively. Once upon a time, Snow White hadn’t followed her instincts, and because she was more trusting of others than her own self, it got her...well, killed, actually. After that experience, she’d vowed never to ignore her gut feelings again.
Granny was involved in their predicament one way or another.
So was she a friend? Or a foe?
Aura was now rifling through Snow’s empty suitcases.
Snow said, “Do you mind telling me what you’re doing?”
Aura frowned and dropped the tweed suitcase. She planted her hands on her hips and looked around the room. “Checking for bugs.”
Snow stiffened, “I’ll have you know this space is cleaner than an operating room.”
Aura rolled her eyes, “Lighten up, Your Highness. I was talking about the electronic kind.” She tapped her ear. “Listening devices.”
They were standing in the smallest, tidiest room in the house. If there had been any such article present, Snow would have found it, and she said as much to Aura.
“I figured. I swept the house last night and came up with nothing. It’s clean. And I found nothing in Granny’s room to tell us who she really is or anything to indicate she was plotting against us. Just a whole lot of receipts from flea markets and a book inventorying all of her junk.”
“Do you have it?” Snow asked.
Aura reached into her back pocket and tossed a spiral bound notebook to Snow. She flipped through a few pages then looked at Aura. “So what do you suppose any of this means?”
Aura bent over and shook her arms and shoulders, raking her fingers through her long hair. When she stood up, she faced Snow with a solemn expression. “It means Granny’s one of the good guys. And I think—”
The realization of what Aura was proposing charged at Snow. “One of the bad guys took her.”
Aura’s eyes glistened and her lips fell into a grim line as she nodded.
Snow stood and tucked the notebook into her desk for the time being. “We have to find her.”
25
An Apple a Day Won't Keep Robin Away
Robin Hood was a creature of habit, and as a creature of habit he adhered to a certain routine. For instance, every Monday morning he wrote a list of all the workout routines he planned to do that week, followed by a strict diet, void of sugar and carbohydrates. And every Monday he kissed his wife, skipped the gym, picked up a chocolate éclair, and headed out to visit the girls of Granny’s House to ensure that they attended their anger management session. It wasn’t a perfect system, but it worked for him.
You see, once Robin was assigned a job, be it lawman, parole officer, or dog catcher, he was compelled to follow that job through to the end no matter what. He couldn’t help himself. So a little thing like getting fired by the biggest bitch in Everafter wasn’t going to stop him from doing his job. He may no longer have a badge, or a legally issued firearm, or even an identification card with his job title written on it in bold block letters, but he had his dignity. Mostly.
So when he spotted Tink’s car, which was the size of a go-cart, wedged between a lilac bush and a dog house near Granny’s home, Robin was so angry he considered crashing into her.
He didn’t. Instead, he coasted on by as if he was just passing through the neighborhood. His assessment was that she wasn’t up to a whole lot because she was fast asleep in the back seat. Her face was scrunched up against the window like a suction-cupped stuffed animal, her turquoise hair floated over her shoulders, and her thin arms were wrapped around her short legs.
She looked a little like a holiday ornament.
Robin parked his own car across the street behind a large truck and reached for his binoculars.
The house was quiet, which wasn’t unusual for this hour. The women still had some time before they had to be at Dr. Bean’s office for group. A light flickered on in the bathroom for a brief moment, then went out. He shifted his gaze to the driveway. All the cars were accounted for ex
cept Granny’s.
Odd. Granny wasn’t what one might describe as an early bird, but perhaps she had gotten wind of a barn sale or something. Robin had never known a woman to collect so much junk in all his life. Where she put it he didn’t know, because although he visited the house frequently, he never saw any new items. He didn’t trail Granny often, as the judge had never asked him to, but he liked to be thorough, and since she was in charge of his parolees, he thought it best to at least gain some insight into the old woman and her habits.
He’d discovered only three things about Granny in the short time he’d known her. The first was that she talked as if she was reading a phrase book backwards. Like she had her own language that only she understood, and her audience had to decipher her meaning from context. He often wondered if the girls she took in were given some sort of decoder ring on move-in day. The second thing Robin knew about the woman was that she seemed to be as old as time itself. Lastly, Granny loved to shop, especially if it meant a good bargain, and especially if the junk she found was as old and worn as herself.
Granny seemed harmless enough. Just a sweet old lady trying to scrape by in life.
Robin unwrapped his éclair and took a hearty bite. The creamy vanilla filling squirted his shirt and he mopped it up with a napkin.
Something caught the corner of his eye as he tossed the napkins into the back seat. Two figures exited the back door of the looming house.
Robin twisted in his seat to get a better look of the back yard. It looked like Aura and the new girl, Snow, were taking a stroll. Both wore hoodies, long pants, and gloves. Odd for August, he thought. So not a stroll then. Were they going to do some gardening?
Robin adjusted the binoculars for a closer look and watched as the girls rounded the corner of the house.
That’s when he saw it. An apple tree taller and wider than the dilapidated mansion, sprawled across the back yard. Robin studied the tree carefully, then lowered his binoculars. He couldn’t recall ever seeing that tree before. Of course he didn’t often stake out the back of the property, but Tink had taken his usual spot.
Robin put the binoculars back to his eyes, watching Snow and Aura approach the tree. Granny’s women weren’t exactly outdoorsy types, so he couldn’t imagine what they were doing. They weren’t very domesticated either, from what he had observed, although, now that he considered it, he didn’t know the new girl all that well. Perhaps she wanted to bake a pie. Perhaps Aura was helping her.
Robin watched as Aura went to the back shed while Snow waited a few feet from the tree. She shuffled her feet impatiently, bit a fingernail off and chewed her lower lip, as if she were nervous just being around Aura.
“Looks, like you got the royal treatment, Snow White,” he muttered. “So what was it? Snakes in your bed? A shove down the stairs? Or just a good old fashioned sucker punch?”
Robin took another bite of the pastry and washed it down with milk.
Aura returned with a chainsaw in her hand, and the two women had a discussion. Robin wished he could read lips, but that was a talent he’d never mastered. He could, however, read faces. Snow White looked to be completely in charge as she pointed to the tree and shoved a sack into Aura’s free hand, then grabbed the chainsaw.
Aura shook her head, white knuckling the sack, but Snow wouldn’t take no for an answer. She stepped forward, blocking Robin’s view of Aura’s face. Snow was pointing, her head bobbing up and down as if she were ordering Aura to do something.
Well this should be interesting. Robin had never known Aura to take orders from anyone. He wished he had some popcorn. If he were a betting man, he would have put twenty down on Aura to take Snow out in the third round with an uppercut.
To Robin’s surprise, not only did Aura keep her hands to herself and her feet on the ground, but she stepped forward and looked up at the tree. She gave Snow a nervous glance back and Snow gave her a nod and a thumbs-up.
This was a plot twist Robin never saw coming. Aura taking orders? What was going on?
Aura reached her arm tentatively toward the tree and picked an apple. She buried it in the sack, shuddered, and reached for another. By the time she tied the sack up tight a few moments later, Robin had counted five apples.
Snow White stepped forward and patted Aura on the back. She picked up the sack and set it a few feet away. Then she fired up the chain saw, grinning. She reached into her pocket and grabbed a pair of goggles and Aura did the same.
Snow tackled the tree like a pregnant woman tackles a carton of Rocky Road ice cream. There was no precision to her cuts, no rhyme or reason. She just hacked at it from every angle as if it had personally betrayed her until, after twenty minutes, the fruit tree crashed to the ground. The women high-fived each other.
Robin set his binoculars down and pulled out his notebook to record what he had just witnessed. When he looked up again, Snow and Aura were racing to the shed, Snow holding the chain saw, Aura carrying the sack.
Robin scratched his chin. “What are you bitches up to?”
Before he could even consider an answer, someone threw a rock at his windshield.
26
Between a Rock and a Hard Fae
When Snow emerged from the shed, she heard the distinct crack of glass and swung her head to see a girl with hair the color of a lagoon standing on the passenger side of Robin Hood’s car, her tiny fists balled at her sides, her nostrils flaring.
“Who is that?” she asked Aura.
Aura followed Snow’s gaze and said, “Oh. That’s Tink of the Bluebells.”
Snow looked at her. “The pixie? She’s here too?”
“Yep.” Aura closed and locked the shed, the sack of apples safely inside. “She works for the judge, or rather, Red Riding Hood.” She looked at Snow, one eyebrow lifted. “And she has a huge crush on Jack.”
Snow raised her own eyebrows. She stared at the young fairy as she wagged her tiny finger at Robin Hood through the window of his car. Robin got out of the Pinto and assessed the crack in his windshield. He ran his fingers through his hair and glared at Tink. Tink put her fists up, dancing all around him like a hungry mosquito. When she got close enough to take a swing, Robin straightened out his long arm and planted his hand on Tink’s forehead. She continued to flail both arms at his stomach, missing each time.
“Do you suppose she has magic?” Snow asked.
Aura shrugged as the two climbed the small hill up and around the pond. “I don’t think so. Look closely. Her wings are missing.”
Snow frowned as Tink delivered a hard kick to Robin’s shin. The lawman cried out and doubled over, rubbing the sore spot. This provided the fairy with an opportunity to pounce on his back. She dug her hands into his hair and bucked like she was wrestling a bull.
Snow supposed Aura was right, that Tink had been stripped of her glamour. But perhaps the apples would help them find magic. After all, they had to have sprung from some sort of spell, so there must be a thread that led from the fruit to a power source.
Because without magic, how in the world would they return home?
They approached the back door. Robin seemed to be losing his battle with the pixie. “Do you think we should help him?” Snow said. “After all, he is one of ours.”
Aura thought about it. “Maybe, but I kind of want to see how this plays out.”
Just as it seemed Robin might break free of his tiny tormentor, Tink stuck a thumb in his left eye. He howled.
“Why is he here, anyway?” Snow asked, still watching Robin’s feeble attempts to defend himself.
Aura said, “Babysitting. He’s here to make sure we attend our therapy.”
“And Tink?” Snow asked just as she bit Robin’s ear.
“That I’m not sure about.”
Robin now appeared to be blinded in one eye, and his right ear was bleeding. The fairy seemed to revel in his pain. She performed some sort of chop with her arm and let out a battle cry. Robin clutched his shoulder.
Snow said. “Enough
is enough. This is undignified for a man of his caliber. We have to stop her.”
Aura grabbed her arm and said in a low voice. “Okay, but just remember who he thinks we are.” She pointed from Snow to herself. “Stay in the character that the puppet master, whoever it is, has created for us.”
Snow nodded and set off to free the lawman of Enchantment.
As Robin Hood tried to fend off the fiend attacking him, he couldn’t help but wonder what evil pact he might have made in a former life to bring him such humiliation. It was bad enough that the women of Granny’s house got the better of him now and then. But at least they were strong, fierce women. To be beaten up by a girl the size of a garden gnome was just embarrassing. It didn’t get any worse than that. At least, that’s what he thought until he heard Aura’s sarcastic tongue.
“You need a fly swatter there, Cowboy?”
Tink stopped wrestling for a moment. “This isn’t your concern, Aura,” she snapped in her squeaky-toy voice.
Aura walked closer and reached her hand up. She must have been putting the hurt on Tink in some capacity, because Robin heard a squeal of pain. “I beg to differ, little one,” she said. “You see, the cowboy and I have an understanding.” Aura bent to look into Robin’s good eye. “He pretends like I don’t kick his ass on a regular basis, and I pretend he’s not violating my civil rights by spying on me 24/7. Isn’t that right, Mr. Parole Officer?”
Robin tried to roll his eyes, but it only caused him pain. He winced, and that hurt too.
Aura peeled Tink off Robin’s back.
The tiny woman glared at Aura. “Well that’s where you’re wrong. He doesn’t work for the city anymore.”
Aura set the pixie down and glanced at Snow who kept her face stone still. “Is that so?” she asked.
Robin stood up, straightening his shirt. A trickle of blood ran down the front. How was he going to explain this to Marion?
Robin wished he had worn his hat. He felt more authoritative with his hat. “A misunderstanding,” he said.
1 The Bitches of Everafter Page 12