Jacob watched her like a hawk, and it was okay. She let him.
The power didn’t come as easily to her as it did on the Fae plane. In fact, it wasn’t coming at all. It was impossible to find. And then she sensed it. It was just out of reach…so close…on the other side of the gate…that hadn’t quite closed yet. So she did the undoable. She pulled from the Fae plane and the magic came, making her hands glow with power. She pushed it into Wilhelm’s chest.
He gasped and sat straight up.
Jacob grabbed her from behind and tried to yank her away.
“No! Not yet.” Wilhelm cried out and his other hand reached out and grabbed hers, keeping them pressed against his chest. A few seconds more, and he took a deep breath and smiled. “I can breathe. The pain’s gone,” he said in heavy accent. “You are angel.”
Mina smiled and reached out to give him a very special hug. “No, you’re my angel. I’ve so much to tell you, but there’s so little time.”
A loud noise came from the gate. Mina looked over in horror as a long black robed hand stretched through the glowing hole reaching out as if testing what was on the other side.
“A Reaper!” Mina grabbed the chair Jacob had just vacated and hurled it at the hand and through the gate. The hand disappeared, but the hole still remained open.
>“And now you will pay for your betrayal. An assassination attempt on me is considered treason. But I’ve seen how you handle our Reapers. So how about the rest of your family? Hmm? I will hunt them down, toy with them like play things, and make them pay for your sins.”
“No!” she gasped out. “Please, they’ve done nothing wrong. I was only trying to save you. To help you, because I care about you.” She continued to struggle. Through the broken window, she could see guards racing from the palace to the tower. The King and Queen followed closely behind them. It seemed the exploding windows were evidence enough that something was not right.
“Then who’s Jared?” he snarled.
“It’s you!” she cried out. Tears poured out of her eyes as she realized she wasn’t getting through to him. “You’re right. I’m not who you think I am. Elle is not my name. It’s just the name of a girl in a story, a fairy tale. But I did come here to save my family.”
His eyes bored into hers searching for the truth, but he must’ve believed all he saw were lies. His face came within inches of hers, and he reached up to touch a strand of her hair. “Instead, you’ve doomed them.”
She was running out of time. Mina reached into her pocket for the Grimoire but her hand wrapped around something different. Something cold and cylindrical in shape.
“I will stop you,” Mina threatened, as the cold air brushed against her neck. Teague was slowly turning her in mid-air. He stood in the middle of the tower, and she glanced back over her shoulder to see that he had moved her through a jagged opening where a window had been.
It was a very long drop down. She wouldn’t survive.
“I can’t wait to see you try.” He laughed cruelly and, with a flick of his wrist, sent her flying out of the tower.
She gasped and tried to claw at the windowsill as she flew past, but she sliced her hands on glass. As she fell, she gripped the seam ripper within her bleeding hands and prayed. She stared into the night sky, alit with fireworks for her betrothal to Teague, and her heart broke. As much as she tried, she couldn’t change the past.
It always had to come to this.
She wasn’t scared, because she knew she’d done this before and lived. Calmly, she pushed the gem on the seam ripper. A great beam of light engulfed her, making an arc as she fell. Teague leaned over the ledge, an expression of utter disbelief on his face, as she fell through the portal—mere inches before the ground.
As she passed through he screamed in rage—swearing that he would find her.
Chapter 30
Mina landed with a painful thud on a cold stone floor. Her eyes were blinded with specks of light and she had to blink a few times before she could see. She rolled over and saw that the gate to the Fae plane was still open. It seemed to be closing…although very slowly. She looked around the room—a crucifix hung above a small cot beside a chamber pot and a simple table. She heard a rattling cough nearby.
“Were ist da?” a fearful voice called out from above her. She’d learned that much in German class her freshman year. Who’s there?
“Me,” Mina groaned and pushed herself slowly off of the floor to address the man lying in the cot.
He looked pale and sickly. His hair was slightly curly and damp from sweat. “Sind Sie ein Engel?”
“Huh?” Mina had to pause and listen to his thick German accent. Was she an Angel?
“Nicht,” she said, slightly proud that she remembered.
The man sat up. “Wie heißen Sie?” What is your name?
“Wilhelmina Grimm.”