The Grimm Files Collection Boxed Set

by Selene Charles

I knew I had to keep focused and think not with my heart but with my head. Lifting an eyebrow, I said, “Yes. The seal was definitely his. I just want to verify he actually did write this letter, and then if we learn that, why? Unlike Midas, I’m not very familiar with Humpty at all.”

  “Is he really an egg? That’s what I’ve always heard of the male. That he was an egg. A rather rotund one at that. And I’d like to know this so that I might not offend when I am finally confronted with the legend.”

  I chuckled. “No, I don’t believe he is. Though he suffers from a condition that makes his skin as fragile as an egg’s shell. Thus his moniker. He lives his life mostly in a bubble to protect himself. But I can understand why Midas and he might be drawn to one another. Though for all intents and purposes, I hear that Humpty isn’t the most attractive sort of fellow.”

  “Hm. ”

  The tunnel opened, and immediately, we found ourselves in the middle of a busy and elegant Victorian-themed town. Brownstone homes with inviting front porches and encased in thick, elegant black gates sat at even intervals—save for one. A creamy egg-white-colored brick face stood out boldly. The home was understated but refined, affluent without being overly gaudy.

  “That must be his place, no?” Maddox jerked his thumb at the white-bricked home.

  I shrugged. “That’s my going theory, anyway.”

  Women wearing elegant rider bustles and satin corsets in every color of the rainbow sashayed slowly by on the slick cobblestone street, their white-lace parasols held aloft to help ward off the slight drizzle that fell from the gray skies above.

  A few of them gave Maddox long appraising looks before passing by.

  He grinned as one pretty blond, bolder than the others, winked and pursed her coral-pink lips at him.

  I licked my front teeth, feeling quite like kicking that trollop’s arse right now. “Should I question Lord Humpty alone, Maddox? In need of a tart to warm your bed this evening?”

  He frowned and turned on me. “Whyever would you say that?”

  He sounded genuinely scandalized, which mollified me a very little.

  Walking in the direction of the white home, I shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the way you undressed her with your eyes. You lit up like a pine tree at Yule.”

  He frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  I snorted.

  And he grinned. “Is this jealousy, Elle?”

  Scoffing, I walked through the open gates and marched up the five steps with purposeful stomps of my booted feet. “You wish, Detective. I can’t feel anything right now, anyway. I’m high on spells.”

  But his grin, rather than grow smaller, only grew wider. “You are jealous.”

  “Gods’ sake,” I snarled and rapped sharply on the door with my knuckles, though there was a perfectly good wrought-iron door knocker in the shape of a demonic gargoyle resting on its front.

  “Deny it,” he said in a low voice.

  “Don’t push me, Detective,” I hissed.

  He chuckled softly.

  I knocked again, this time picking up the heavy knocker and giving it three hard booms. But after almost a minute and still no one bothered to answer, I stepped back and frowned, shoving my fists into my jacket pocket.

  “Is no one home, you think?” Maddox murmured. “But surely a butler should be, especially at an address like this one, no?”

  “Indeed.” Getting a rather strange feeling, I studied the house again. It was a gothic Victorian, with large windows with well-constructed shutters upon them and flower boxes that bloomed with large, gorgeous red flowers. I looked at the lawn—Well maintained and manicured.

  I pursed my lips and looked back at the gate. It had been open, which hadn’t much bothered me at the time.

  “Who lives in a community this affluent and leaves their gates just hanging open that way?”

  “They don’t,” Maddox said instantly. “Lord Humpty,” he called out, placing his hands around his mouth, “we are Grimm PD. Please open up. We have a few questions to ask you.”

  When there wasn’t even a rustle of sound from within, he raised his fist and banged on the door with the side of it. “Lord Humpty, we’ve been sent by Midas to check up on you. Open.”

  It wasn’t true, but Humpty might be more willing to speak with us if he felt that we had come on Midas’s request.

  But still… nothing at all.

  That bad feeling in the pit of my gut only grew stronger. I shook my head. “I’m walking to the back, Maddox. You keep banging, okay?”

  He nodded but continued his banging and calling out to Humpty.

  I jogged rather quickly around the side of the house, noting how everything seemed to be orderly and in place. But that gate was open. In communities with such wealthy patrons, there was an almost obsessive code of conduct that manifested from one realm to another. The wealthy didn’t like to mingle, not even amongst themselves, though they often did in order to lord their wealth and accomplishments over one another.

  When I got to the back of the house, I saw there were no lights on in the windows, and the nut trees in the grove behind me were creaking in the rising stiff wind. A terrible feeling of foreboding crawled over my flesh.

  “Lord Humpty,” I called out as calmly as I could, lifting my voice just a little but keeping my tone moderate. “We’ve come only to ask a few questions. Please open up.”

  As I said this, I quickly peered into the windows and noted the tasteful décor of each room: the sitting room, the drawing room, the study, etcetera. Then I moved to the last room, and I saw legs poking out from behind a massive mahogany desk.

  Unmoving legs.

  “Maddox! Come here. Come quickly.”

  “Elle!” he cried, then I heard the rustling of grass and the heavy breaths of his run, and he was suddenly there, wide-eyed and harried and looking at me. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

  I pointed at the window, noting the paint chips on the sill and the small crack in the base of the wooden frame. As though someone had forcibly opened the window.

  Frowning, I stared back at the trees behind us. Then I spotted a pair of beady black eyes. “Maddox, there’s a crow.” I pointed.

  At my words, the bird cried out loudly and shot from the tree, winging off powerfully.

  Maddox growled. “Do you think— ”

  “Yes. Yes, I do. That was a watcher. They were here and not long ago at that.”

  Protocol said we couldn’t enter a domicile uninvited unless we were certain someone within was incapacitated and in need.

  “It’s going back to its leader. Shouldn’t we stop it?” he asked.

  But I shook my head. “You and I cannot fly. That shifter is long gone.”

  Banging on the window with my fist, I called out, “You there! Are you okay?”

  I waited a good two seconds. No response.

  “That’s it. I’m crawling in.”

  “Let me go first.”

  I snorted. “Don’t play hero, Maddox. I’m smaller than you. This will be far easier for me than for you.” Then I set my hand upon the frame and tried to move it. It did move but only a little. It got caught on something inside.

  There was just enough room for a bird to comfortably slip through or a petite child to wiggle through and pray they’d not get trapped.

  Thankfully, I was a very petite female.

  I shrugged out of my jacket then turned and handed it to Maddox. He crushed it in his large hand, staring silently at me.

  I nodded once. “You see anything, Maddox, and I swear to the twin hells, you’d better warn me.”

  “Elle, I don’t bloody like this.”

  “And we don’t have time to discuss this further.” I grabbed hold of the sill and hopped up, arms already trembling because the damned window was a bit higher than I’d expected it to be.

  Hatter shoved on my bottom, helping to push me through. I groaned as my head popped through.

  “Bloody hells, that pulled out hair,”
I snarled as my scalp tingled from the shock.

  He chuckled, but his words were calming. “Just relax, Elle. Think thin thoughts.”

  “Pft, ” an indelicate sound spilled off my tongue. I could barely catch a proper breath as my chest passed ridiculously slowly beneath the torture device. At one point, I couldn’t breathe at all and almost had a panic attack.

  Perceptive, as he usually was, Hatter shoved me through hard.

  I felt a nail dig into my side and rip. I grunted as I felt the thick gathering of crimson begin to spill.

  “Elle, bloody hells, you’re bleeding!” he hissed, grabbing at my heels.

  I was in down to my thighs and wiggling like a fish on a hook to get through. “I swear to all the gods that if you pull me back out, I’ll gut you like a sea carp,” I snapped, sweating, bloody, feeling as though I’d done ten rounds in a pugilist’s ring. Why the hells hadn’t I just broken the glass?

  Oh yeah, because I was on thin ice, and the last thing I needed was an irritable Lord filing a complaint with commissioner Draven—or worse, BS.

  His hands were suddenly off my ankles, and just like a child being pushed through the birthing canal, I finally popped free. I landed face first, hurting all over and realizing that had probably been the stupidest thing I’d ever done in my career.

  “Elle, are you alright?” Hatter demanded.

  But I couldn’t move. I could barely even draw breath. Everything bloody hurt.

  “Elle!”

  I growled and shoved myself up on my shaky arms. “I’m fine, you big devil. Give me a second, damn it all.”

  Squeezing my eyes shut and very aware that I’d made enough noise to actually wake the dead, I groaned as I gingerly made my way up to my feet. I turned and looked at the window and saw why it hadn’t wanted to budge. There was a big nail hammered into the frame.

  With a little snarl, I pulled the damned thing out and dropped it at my feet with a soft plink on the hardwood floor.

  Hatter shoved the window up with force, his blue and green eyes bright with worry.

  I grabbed onto my side and grimaced as I felt the tackiness of blood. “C’mon then,” I whispered hoarsely, and when I turned back around, I again saw the legs, and the entire reason for my breaking and entering was suddenly front and center.

  Moving on aching legs, I called out, “Sir, are you well? Do you need a medic? Do— ”

  But I stopped talking the moment I rounded the desk and caught sight of broken pottery shards and dust. Lying stomach down on the thick and golden Turkenish rug was none other than Lord Humpty himself.

  His head was completely gone, his hands like broken pottery that was crisscrossed through with veins of black. Broken but not quite shattered. Beside him lay a long black crow’s feather.

  It was obvious it was a retaliation killing. But for what? And why exactly? For attempting to tell Midas the truth or to cover something up? Sadly, I wasn’t sure I’d ever know the answer to that question.

  I sighed and shook my head. Poor Midas. Ever unlucky in love.

  Frowning, I thinned my lips. “Maddox, call this in, please. I’ll look through the rest of the house and see if there are any other bodies or clues.”

  He nodded. “Be careful, Elle.”

  I pulled my gun from its holster and held it out before me and said, “Always.”

  IT WAS hours before we finally left the crime scene, but much of what Midas had claimed had been easily corroborated.

  Letters between the two of them all but proved most of Midas’s innocence in the matters. And we’d also learned how the Slashers had gotten into the gala.

  Hidden in Lord Humpty’s safe was one of Midas’s golden stamps. When we put two and two together, it was easy enough to figure out that he must have been the one to write the invitations to the Slashers, and with the stamp on their invite, they’d have easily slipped through alerting none of the guards to their presence there. We were going to dust the stamp for prints but I had no doubt they’d be a perfect match for Humpty.

  And though I’d found a few letters in my father’s hand to Lord Humpty, I’d not seen anything that would indicate it had been Triton who’d brought me to Humpty’s mind. Those letters had been of nothing other than business matters. Humpty owed a great deal of money to my father, which would account for Midas’s story of turning sand into gold.

  My father didn’t give a rats arse about me, but even if he did, he’d never have spoken of such private matters to someone he clearly didn’t think of as more than a mere business acquaintance.

  No, Humpty had been told about me by someone else. Maybe Anne Bonny, maybe someone else. But if I could just figure out who that someone was, I had a feeling I could probably even solve the case.

  We were close. I could feel it in my bones.

  We just weren’t close enough.

  Not yet.

  But we would be. We would be.

  CHAPTER 32

  DETECTIVE ELLE

  I BRUSHED down my very shredded dress, feeling stupidly anxious and nervous for some reason.

  Maddox grabbed my wrist. “Relax, Elle. She’ll be here soon. Don’t give her any power over you.”

  Sighing deeply, I shook my head and nodded. The rolling of waves crashing along my perpetually deserted shores calmed and soothed my frazzled nerves. I really wanted to take a swim, but I didn’t have time. Not that I needed the water, but the water always comforted me.

  “It’s just something about all of this feels— ”

  “Wrong,” he said, not as a question. “I know. It does. Why kill Lord Humpty? To what end? What did he know that we don’t? And how the devil was he mixed up with the Slashers at all? He was a respectable businessman.”

  Wetting my lips, I looked over at him and shrugged. “Was he? Clearly, he had dealings with the Slashers in some capacity. They must have had dirt on him that they were able to exploit.”

  “Hmm ,” Maddox mumbled and scrubbed at his jaw, in his thinker’s pose, as I liked to call it. His eyes burned but not with vision. He hadn’t had another one since leaving the hospital. “What burns me more than anything is how you’re mixed up in this. What are you to them? Why the schemes? The games?”

  “I wish I knew. But then only one person has said it was me they were after, and how much can we afford to trust him?”

  Maddox looked down at me and gave me the look , the one that said he didn’t believe a word I said, and my stomach trembled with nerves. I bit my bottom lip, pulling it between my teeth.

  “Why won’t you say his name?”

  The spells were wearing off rapidly. My pulse was thundering in my ears.

  “It’s Hook, Elle,” he said softly. “Why would he lie?”

  I scoffed. “Are you seriously asking me this? What do I know of him?”

  “Everything, I’d imagine.”

  “Once upon another time, maybe.” I snorted. “But that man in there, that’s not my Hook. I don’t know who that man is. Why is no one else bothered by the fact that he’s been brought back to life when all would say that’s an impossibility?”

  “Dark magick could— ”

  “That’s been stamped out, ages ago. When all the realms unified for the first and only time and fought as one to bring down their great evil. You know this. You know Grimm’s history. This is impossible. So no, I don’t give much credence to what that man says. I don’t believe him. And neither should you.”

  Maddox pursed his lips. “I’m not saying we blindly agree with everything he says, but it does make a certain kind of twisted sense, Elle. And I think that’s what bothers you most. Look, if you want, you can work another case, a different angle. I’d be happy to take point on this one.”

  I sighed. “No. No, that’s not what I want. I just… I really don’t want to talk about him, okay? I just don’t.”

  He held up his hands. “Understood.”

  We stood in silence for several heartbeats, and with each second that ticked by, I worried not onl
y that Queen Titiana wouldn’t show but also that the constant bickering between Hatter and me had to stop. I didn’t know why we couldn’t seem to just stay neutral with one another. It was as though we were both incapable of keeping ourselves solely focused on business.

  I tapped my foot in the sand.

  “You’re like a restless tiger trapped in a cage, Elle,” he said in a low voice, turning to stare at me with those eyes that saw too damned much.

  I tossed up my hands. I told myself to say nothing, that it was none of my business, but damn it all, he was constantly picking at my scabs, and I was just petty enough right now to return the favor.

  “Why have you a golden soul? Who are you really? Does Bo know all this? I know I said I didn’t care, but I do, dammit.”

  As I asked, his eyebrows rose high, and he looked at me in a way I’d never seen him look at me before, like he was disappointed in me, in what we were devolving into.

  Groaning, I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head. “Forget I asked. I don’t care.”

  “Oh, but I think you do, Elle. I really think you do.”

  I couldn’t tell whether he were simply stating a fact or being uppity. Dammit, I couldn’t tell anything. Why? Because Maddox was right—I was worried about Hook, worried about who and what he had become. I had felt a different man in that office, but I’d be a liar if I said it was simply about Hook.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I whispered, “My life feels like it’s spiraling. Ever since that day you told me he still lived. I’ve not felt right. I hurt. All over. My sleep is nothing but nightmarish visions of his death. And I relive it over and over and over,” I confessed, voice tight and gritty. “I… I need some sense of… I don’t know what I need.” I laughed mockingly, hating myself, wishing I’d never said anything.

  Then I felt his warm hand grab mine. I opened my eyes and looked up into his burning blue and green ones.

  “Control,” he said succinctly. “You need control. I get it, Elle. I do. I know what it feels like to be a kite spinning in the wind with no anchor to hold you down. But…” He clenched his jaw. “I— ”

  Whatever he’d been about to say was forgotten as his green eye blazed with fire. Gasping, I slid my hand up his arm and pushed back his loose sleeve so that I might grasp his tattoo, and when I did, I felt as if my entire body had been yanked backward by a mighty hand.