The Grimm Files Collection Boxed Set

by Selene Charles

  She blinked her big brown eyes back at me, and I was sure she smiled. I reached a finger toward her, wanting to touch her fur and to hug her. But she faded, just like that, and without warning, she was gone.

  “No!” I hissed, jerking my hands and staring frantically at Jacamoe. “What’s happened? Where did she go?”

  “She was tired, Arielle. She is but a babe yet. You must grow in your control, and then she will grow stronger herself. But this was a brilliant start. Not many witches can manifest their familiars so quickly and easily. You are strong, Little One. Stronger than even you believe.”

  I felt the dampening cuffs clamped onto my wrists just a second later, and I hiccupped a strange sound that was half sob and half denial. “What? Why— ”

  “Our hour is at an end. To try and perform any more magick now could kill us. But next time I will teach you to create a bubble. You would like that, I think.”

  I snorted, even as the effects of the cuffs began to manifest. “I’m not ten, Jacamoe.”

  He chuckled, but I couldn’t focus on the conversation any longer. I squeezed my eyes shut.

  The heat of those dampening cuffs rushed through me like a geyser, almost knocking me to my knees. I shook my head as I gripped the workbench, my knuckles turning bone white from the force. My muscles strained and trembled.

  “Breathe, Little One. It gets easier each time you do it.”

  I didn’t want to have to get used to it. It was unfair. I didn’t ask to become a witch. If I couldn’t learn to control my new powers, they might very well control me, and putting me in cuffs was the very opposite of allowing me to learn to regulate myself. But I didn’t tell him any of that because there wasn’t a damned thing Jacamoe could do about it. More than that, he’d suffered the indignity far longer than I had. Once the pain had passed and my muscles unclenched, I blew out a strangled breath and gave a short bark of laughter.

  He said nothing in reply, but I knew he understood.

  Maddox

  BOTH MY ARMS BURNED. I rubbed them forcefully as I stared up at the glowing marquee sign. The stylized letters read Bârân .

  I’d been asking around, befriending those loitering on the street corners, including beggars, petty pickpockets, and soiled doves. At first, none had a clue who the Tinkerer was, but as I neared the Persiannous district I got far fewer blank looks and more knowing but furtive looks.

  Finally, a female troll with large, brightly painted purple lips and dark olive-green skin covered in boils and pustules pointed me in the direction of a club.

  The bitch—for that was what she would be called in troll society—was a beauty of her species, and I compensated her well, handing her my last business card. “If you ever have need of me, female, call this number.” I closed my hand around her slightly smaller, hairier one.

  She quickly snatched the card out of her hand and tucked it into the crevice between her fleshy triple breasts, glancing around furtively to make sure no one stared at us.

  No doubt she had a pimp or madam who owned her. It pained me that she should, but sadly, life was far from perfect, and often there were injustices in the world that I would remain forever helpless to stop. I wasn’t necessarily against being a madam or a pimp—Alice was one, but she treated her employees fairly. She never raised a hand to any of them, would never dream of letting them walk the dirty, rough streets of the capital at night, and compensated them exceedingly well. It made her a rare treasure in the industry.

  Sex was not amoral, at least not to me—it was simply a matter of biology and if both or more parties were willing participants, I saw nothing inherently wrong with sex work—but the seedy, dirty version of that world had always bothered me immensely.

  I gave the bitch a tense, smallish smile.

  For anyone in this side of town to be seen carrying anything associated with the law was not a good look, but having a detective’s contact info was as good as gold too. It meant that no matter what, she had at least one get-out-of-jail-free pass, which she would no doubt need sooner rather than later.

  The club stuck out compared to the other buildings surrounding it. Where everything else was done in a standard-brick-and mortar layout, it was all stucco and golden overlays everywhere. The building was a creamy white, with a domed golden roof upon it that gleamed blue and red from the neon that hung off the sides of the other buildings.

  There was a sultry, sensual style of music filtering out from underneath the heavy looking door. And even from where I stood, I could smell hookah smoke and exotic perfumes from another land.

  It was times like these that made me miss my partner. Usually, we would walk to a door, where she would distract them with the power of her sheer and overwhelming siren’s beauty while I got them to divulge whatever secrets I could in the interim.

  Though it wasn’t just her beauty that opened doors for us. Elle had been working in Grimm for decades, she was an established cog in the wheel, and the citizens inherently trusted her, or at the very least knew of her.

  Fixing my cravat with nerveless fingers, I watched as a group of youths, who couldn’t have been a day older than eighteen, knocked rapidly on the big door three times, followed by two slower knocks.

  It opened on soundless hinges just a moment later. A big mountain of a male stood intimately beside it. As he turned, a face that bore no eyes, no mouth, and no nose tilted down at them, and it was easy enough to imagine that if he could, he would be glaring at the boys.

  My angel brand burned like the devil upon my arm at the sight of him, and I clenched my molars together, biting down on the hiss that threatened to spill off my tongue.

  I knew his species almost immediately. He was demon bred, lower caste, nothing major. Though he looked intimidating, as far as demons went, the Alû was not much to concern oneself with.

  The boys never even glanced up. They’d clearly been there many times. They laughed amongst themselves as they sailed through.

  I looked at my hands and at the clothes that I wore, wondering if I should have chosen something different but realizing there was no time to worry about it. But I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of a club dropped tens of thousands of pounds a year on hiring a demon bouncer—low caste or not, his power would still be considerable.

  Realizing I didn’t have much time to make up my mind, I squared my shoulders and decided there wasn’t a choice or time to waste. Crossing the street, I reached the door and knocked out the same sequence the boys had used.

  Years of perfecting a stonewall mask didn’t mean that I didn’t feel nerves—I still did. Every time I entered someplace new, especially a potentially hostile one. My hands balled into tight fists when the door was whisked open by the same Alû as before.

  But unlike before, when he’d merely glanced down at the boys, his large hand immediately shot out and slammed against the cage of my chest. His entire frame bristled, and I knew that if he could grow, he would. Just because he had no mouth or teeth didn’t mean he couldn’t rend me limb from limb.

  But I was no mere mortal man, either. I glanced down at his hand, and a small smirk tilted the corners of my lips.

  “You know what I am,” I said softly but with a deadly undercurrent. “Good. That also means you know you can do nothing to stop me, should I choose to make an issue of this.”

  The beast trembled. He had no ears, but I knew he’d heard me just fine. And I knew so much more than that about his kind.

  I licked my teeth, feeling the burn of my incisors wishing to drop and the heat of raw fire beginning to spark within me. “Now don’t be a fool, Alû. You cannot win this against me. So tell me where the Tinkerer is, and I will leave you be. Aye?”

  I stilled, lifting a brow, daring him to do other than what I’d just bade him do. Some still thought to test me once they realized the taste of me was not the usual. But most knew they didn’t stand a chance in the twin hells against something like me. I was tamed, but who I was—who I really was—had never left me. The
Alû must have come to the same conclusion, for he released his hold on me and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb to indicate that the Tinkerer would be back that way.

  With a nod of thanks I knew he would never see, I dusted the wrinkles out of my jacket and walked around him. The sooner I found the Tinkerer, the sooner I could leave and hopefully bring my partner back home, safe and in one piece.

  CHAPTER 43

  ELLE

  I SENSED Crowley’s presence behind me. He was sitting, and his posture was relaxed, but I knew the truth of him. How he could be loose one second and a feral wolf the next. I’d been on the wrong side of Crowley for long enough to know it was fact. One wrong move, and the male would turn into the darker version of himself.

  He’d asked to come and watch my studies with Jacamoe early the following morning. His words had seemed innocent enough. He wanted me to believe it’d been nothing more than happenstance that’d found him at my door at the exact hour I’d planned to sneak off to train.

  The next six-hour cycle had begun, and though Jacamoe hadn’t seemed overly excited to see me at his door at such an ungodly hour, he had grudgingly let me in.

  The fact that Crowley seemed to have been waiting outside my door at midnight so that he could conveniently tag along, aka stalk me, hadn’t escaped my notice. He took an eager interest in my studies, though I wasn’t sure why. Maybe he wanted to know all there was to know about me so that he could maintain the upper hand when we get out of here. If we ever did, that was.

  “Focus, Arielle,” Jacamoe whispered. “Our time is nearly at an end.”

  “I’m trying,” I hissed, scowling at him, knowing that I must look like a hot mess. My long black hair was sticking to the back of my neck like octopus tentacles, I was covered in sweat, and my breathing was ragged. I’d never dreamed that learning to use magick would feel like running a marathon. Every witch I’d ever encountered had always made it looked so easy.

  “It is not hard,” he said, and again I detected a note of aggravation. Maybe I shouldn’t have come at midnight. Clearly, Jacamoe wasn’t a night owl like I was. “You have merely to focus to bring her back.”

  The small ball of shadow in my hand, nothing more than a slight bit of steam at the moment, fizzled out. There was no doubt that my frustration wasn’t helping. I clenched my fist and growled. “Dammit! I brought her to me today. Why can’t I bring her back again?”

  Jacamoe snapped his fingers, and instantly two steaming mugs of jasmine scented tea appeared, the lovely smell filling the room. “Drink,” he commanded with an imperious point toward the delicate bone-white China mug.

  Twisting my lips and feeling thoroughly ashamed of my performance, I grudgingly reached for it and took a sip. It was scalding and burned the back of my tongue, but already I could feel my limbs growing looser, and a pleasant feeling of warmth filled my belly. The effect almost reminded me of witches’ brew coffee, to which I was completely addicted.

  I sighed and squeezed my eyes shut as I continued to sip.

  “Her will is stronger than yours yet,” he said slowly.

  “What does that mean?” I asked, but I suspected I already knew. I just didn’t like the answer.

  He gave me a one-shouldered shrug. “She does not yet recognize your authority over her. You are a baby witch. Your familiar may look innocent and tiny, but what lives inside of her is an immense wellspring of ancient tribal magick. You are now part of a very select and unusual group. But do not assume that means you will reach my level of mastery with just a few training sessions.” He snorted as if the idea was laughable.

  It made me instantly surly with him. “I never did assume that,” I snapped. “You’re the one assigning that emotion to me.”

  “And yet you are the one upset that you cannot control her,” Jacamoe said softly.

  Crowley snorted with laughter, and I glared hotly at him, wishing I could smack that smirk off his handsome face. I felt a little as though he and I were back to our old, familiar antagonistic ways again.

  Rolling my eyes, I looked to Jacamoe. “I’m frustrated because I have no control over anything at present. No one will tell me when the tribunal will decide my fate, and no one will talk to me. So yes, I’m frustrated, but this frustration goes much deeper than being unable to control a rebellious familiar!” I said the last with a pound of my fist upon the workbench.

  Finally, the humor faded from Jacamoe’s eyes, and he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his long, mahogany-colored fingers. “Forgive me, Arielle. You are, of course, correct. You are under an immense amount of strain at the moment. I forget myself.”

  Blowing out a heavy breath, I looked at the empty space where my familiar had winked in and out of existence just a moment ago and shrugged. “I think we all are. Tomorrow is Aquata’s life song, and I—” My throat squeezed shut, and I took several deep breaths, trying to settle myself. I’d thought very little about why I was here today, but when the dawn came, I hoped my reason for being trapped in the Undine would make itself very clear.

  Tomorrow would be the final night that we all got to see my sweet, sweet sister. We—and by “we,” I no longer really even meant myself—would sing her soul back to us. As a creature of the under, Aquata’s spirit now rested in the bosom of the water mother, who would gift her back to us for a few hours at the witching hour. She would not be corporeal, and she would not be able to talk, but she would be able to give us an opportunity to say our goodbyes.

  She had been a royal, and she would be honored. There would be a celebration of her life, a party where we all sat and swapped stories about her and how much she meant to us all.

  Of course, usually these affairs were naught but an excuse for a good time, a large party full of drink, and a reason to let loose. But I rather thought that the festivities the next day might be different. Though I’d been outcast decades before, I was still of noble blood and could not be barred from my sister’s song. But I dreaded the thought of it too. No one would be happy to see me there, and with these damned cuffs on me everyone would know why I still remained.

  Speaking of the cuffs, I felt their terrible pressure suddenly being clamped back onto me and knew that our two hours was at an end.

  I stared at Jacamoe, miserable to my very core.

  His face was stoic. “Get some rest, Princess. Tomorrow will be a busy day.”

  I missed my sister very much, but I didn’t want to go to her song. Still, I knew I could not get out of it. “Can we train tomorrow?”

  He shook his head. “I must make preparations. I will be gone the whole of the day. We resume our studies the following day. Should you be free, that is.”

  The reminder felt like a bucket of ice water thrown on my face. I frowned. “Can I at least use your room to train without you?”

  He glanced around, and I could sense his uneasiness at allowing me in here without him.

  “If there was another room in this bloody castle for me to train in, you know I would, Jacamoe.”

  Wetting his lips, he nodded forcefully. “Yes, I know it. Of course, you are welcome. Only please lock up after you are gone.”

  I nodded. “Thank you.”

  Then looking over at Crowley, I lifted my brows in a silent gesture saying that we should leave now.

  I was tired. My body hurt from all over from the plugging up of my magick. Mentally, I was drained. And yet, I was also wired and wide awake. I needed sleep, but I knew there would be none for me tonight.

  My footsteps were slow when Crowley and I entered the hall. Neither of us spoke for several seconds as the tension grew and grew.

  In fact, we didn’t even speak until we’d turned down into our wing of the castle. “Are you well?” he asked gently.

  I didn’t mean to, but I snapped, “What the hells do you think!” I glared at him as I planted my hands on my hips. My chest heaved up and down with my heavy breaths.

  He stilled, and I could see the glow of the animal rise in his eyes. Even his upp
er lip pulled back, and the air tingled with the sudden rush of his raw energy. For a brief second, I wondered whether he meant to attack me, and for another brief second, I was pretty sure I would have welcomed a good, knock-down, drag-out brawl. I welcomed anything to help me not think about what tomorrow would bring.

  But then he swallowed, and I felt the energy evaporate as quickly as it’d appeared.

  Moving as only a beast could, his hand was suddenly on my chin, and he was turning my face, looking at me intensely. “How long since you’ve slept?”

  Since last I’d lain with Hook aboard the ship, I thought and then shuddered. Feeling so old and decrypt of a sudden. Extricating my chin from his grip, I rubbed my arms with my hands and sighed.

  “You need sleep, Detective.”

  I snorted. “Easy for you to say.”

  “It’s not easy for me to say. Do you think I’ve slept a damned wink out here? To answer my own question, no. But I’m fucking tired. And I know you are too. You might be whatever the hells you are now”—he gestured at me with a finger wave—“but I’ll wager that you need rest just like all the rest of us. Elle, fuck—don’t forget all that we did before we even got here.”

  He was right, of course. But I didn’t want to hear it. I was pissed off and ready to rage, and he just happened to be there.

  Laughing almost maniacally, I glared at him. “My sister is dead because of me. My father might very well be joining her soon. My lover? Dead, come back, and maybe dead again.” I laughed again, but it was more shrill and higher pitched than before. “No one will talk to me. I might very well die in a few days myself. I look like a fecking monster now. I don’t even know who I am or what I am. No fecking surprise that I’m as messed up as I am right now, and you have the nerve to tell me that I need to— ”

  “Godsdammit,” he growled and grabbed me by the shoulders, shaking me roughly and making my teeth rattle. “Stop this shit,” he growled, the wolf in his words. “You don’t get to feel bad for yourself, Detective, you hear me? You don’t get to do this! You’re a fucking Grimm PD detective. You pull your shit together before I make you.”