She wasn’t sure how to respond to this. The boy who’d spent every day of her human life with her was now seeing her—?the real her—?for the first time. “I should have seen that there was no love in Mada Vittora’s heart,” she admitted. “Luc did the right thing. It’s better that she’s dead.”
Beau didn’t answer, but his face showed that he didn’t think she believed that. Love was love, even if it had been cruel, and it was like Beau to see that she was still mourning Mada Vittora even if she refused to admit it to herself.
“I won’t keep anything from you again, cabbage—”
She pressed a finger to his lips to silence him. She was reminded of the first time they had kissed in Montélimar. She’d held her finger to his lips like this and then replaced it with her own lips. What would Rennar, with his proposal of marriage, think of his beasties in each other’s arms?
“You mesmerized him,” Beau murmured, reading her mind. “The prince. I could see it in his eyes.”
She dropped her finger from his lips. “He wanted to use us.”
“It’s more than that. He’s fascinated by you. You have something he lost long ago—?youth. Wonder. He was enchanted by your hopefulness. He has everything under the sun, power and time and riches most people only dream of, but he doesn’t have what you have, not anymore.” He traced a thumb gently along the red heart on her left cheek. “And he has what you want too. Knowledge. Answers. The confidence that comes from experience. I could feel the pull between the two of you. You’re fascinated by him too.”
His words felt dangerously close to painting a picture of her and Rennar, and it wasn’t a picture she felt comfortable with at all. “What are you saying?”
“Just that I’m damn glad you didn’t step into that cage.”
Slowly, his arm circled her back, holding her not like a broken bird, but like a slice of cake he wanted to devour whole and then lick up every last drop of icing—?but Luc interrupted them.
“Anouk. Get in here and listen to this. See if you can make it out.” He took off the carapace headphones and cranked up the external speaker. Anouk and Beau jo
ined him and Cricket at the scryboard. The hisses were very quiet, but she was used to quiet. It was a sound she had heard before.
Dragonflies.
“They’re saying that Castle Ides is empty,” she said in surprise.
“Empty?” Beau said. “Where’d all the Royals go? Oh, merde. It’s here, isn’t it? Viggo told them we’re in the catacombs and every Royal in Paris is on the way down here—”
“No.” Anouk cut him off. “They aren’t coming here.” She clicked off the speaker tensely. “The dragonflies say they’re going to Montélimar.”
Cricket swore. “How did they know that was our plan? Great, now we’re supposed to capture Mada Zola and fight off the Royals? There’s no way. We’re screwed. And before you say anything, Beau, I mean it this time. Royally screwed.”
“You’re underestimating the effects of cappuccino on Goblins, my dear,” Tenpenny said, coming in from the grand hall. “Not to mention the fact that we have the numbers. Even if the Royals bring the lesser court, how many of them are there—?nine or ten? Plus one witch. And there are hundreds of us.”
He took a calm sip of tea.
Beau massaged the bridge of his nose as though his head ached. “I still don’t understand why Rennar and the Royals would bother to go to Montélimar if Viggo told them that we’re here. We’re literally right under their noses. Seriously. Those pipes are marked Boulevard Saint-Michel, which is a block from Castle Ides.”
They all tipped their heads toward the dripping municipal water pipes that fed into the upper city. Anouk felt something cold at her back, a breeze that wasn’t there. Why hadn’t Rennar simply raided the catacombs? Now, with most of the Goblins still yawning and stretching and hunting up clothes, they wouldn’t have put up much of a resistance.
“Because I didn’t tell him where you were,” a voice said.
Viggo stood in the doorway. His hair was entirely black now, a reminder that midnight had come and all of Vittora’s spells were broken. For a second, Anouk thought of the Goblin girl cursed to fall in love with a yellow mail van. At least now she was free. Everyone who had been bound by Vittora’s spells was.
“Viggo.” Her breath quickened. She’d cast a spell on him without his permission—?she’d made a slave of him, forced him to do all sorts of humiliating things. The Viggo she knew would have been plotting an elaborate revenge that involved many sharpened spikes. Hunter Black was behind him, the ever-present shadow. She eyed them both closely. “What are you doing back here?”
“If you mean am I going to try to kiss your feet again, no. The spell is done. I’m not happy about that love spell, by the way. I think we all know that I never would have done those things if not under the influence of magic beyond my control. Just so we’re all clear.”
No one answered. Anouk wasn’t entirely positive he wasn’t plotting revenge.
“I didn’t go to Rennar,” he said, guessing at their silence. “I didn’t tell the Royals anything. Oh, I considered it. As soon as December broke the curse, Hunter Black and I stormed out of here and I had every intention of returning with an army of crows at my heels. But I didn’t.”
“Then why the hell did you come back?” Cricket snapped.
His dark eyes flashed to hers. “Because you need me.”
“Ha.”