Midnight Beauties (Grim Lovelies 2)

The Royals and Goblins who hadn’t yet fled the room all listened uneasily. Anouk translated for Viggo in a hushed voice. “It’s strange—?he’s speaking as ‘we,’ not as ‘I,’ like the witches are a collective voice speaking through him. His words are broken. He’s threatening an . . . an impending darkness. A deathless death.”

Rennar lowered himself to one knee beside Prince Aleksi, who still clutched his chest. Queen Violante knelt at his other side. They helped Aleksi stand.

“You see?” Rennar yelled to the crowd. “The Coven of Oxford is upon us. They’ve even found their way into our midst. There can be no more doubt about the threat they represent.” His face grew serious as he looked to Aleksi and Violante. “We must cast them out, them and their poison smoke. A kindred spell.”

They nodded.

The three of them began whispering in unison. Anouk had heard of kindred spells—?the kind that took two or more magic handlers working in unison—?though Mada Vittora had always preferred to work alone.

As they cast the spell, the smoke seemed to tremble and flow toward their voices. The possessed king shot out more light from his mouth but the Crimson Queen cast a spell to cloud the light while Rennar and Aleksi worked spells to cast out the witches. Powerful energy surrounded them and the king, making the few remaining dishes shatter. A marquesa from the Minaret Court stepped forward and joined in the kindred spell. Baron Winter joined next.

The king’s body began to jerk and twist in mid-air. The ribbons of smoke curled tightly, constricting around his body.

“It’s working,” Petra said as she finally managed to shimmy out of her tablecloth bindings. She shoved herself to her feet and cast her own whisper into the mix.

Anouk’s arms hung at her sides. She’d never felt so helpless. Petra fought alongside the others. Luc and Viggo were helping Hunter Black, who was still disoriented from his transformation. Even the Goblins were spitting whispers to keep the witches’ magic at bay.

But Anouk could do nothing.

She felt hollow inside. She turned her hands palms up and then curled them into fists. Her nails dug painfully into her palms. Useless!

Someone cried out behind her. She spun around. The Royals had managed to surround the possessed king with a sphere of glass cobbled together from broken pieces of crystal and stemware. It trapped the bursts of light, but a thin thread of smoke still snaked out and oozed around the room in the direction of the Goblins. The king continued to cry black tears, which now pooled in the bottom of the glass sphere. Rennar, Violante, and Aleksi redoubled their efforts, but their brows were heavy with sweat. Violante looked on the verge of passing out. The vitae echo prevented them from outright killing the witches or the king; the best they could hope for was to banish the witches’ astral projection from the king’s body, but even that was proving to be an impossible feat.

Anouk let out a frustrated cry. She could kill a witch. She wasn’t bound by the vitae echo. If only she hadn’t lost her magic! But was she totally helpless? A line of black smoke snaked toward her, drawn to her cry, and she flinched and moved away. It came from a small hole in the glass orb. The Royals had enchanted the glass shards to melt together with no gaps or cracks, but the tip of the king’s little finger was caught in the glass, leaving the tiniest opening for smoke to escape.

Here, at least, was something she could do that didn’t take an ounce of magic.

She grabbed a butter knife.

In a few strides, she was at the glass sphere. It took three slashes to sever the king’s little finger. The finger fell with a gush of blood. With a flash of light, the barrier was sealed, the glass sphere complete, the smoke trapped inside where it couldn’t poison anyone.

Rennar threw a look over his shoulder and gave her a nod of gratitude.

The sphere started to glow. The king began screaming, his voice as contorted as his body, and with a flash of light, the glass barrier shattered. Shards of crystal rained down. Rennar, closest, took the brunt of it. It carved deep gashes into his face and chest. He threw out whispers to seal his wounds but smoke, now freed from the orb, was snaking into his body.

When the last of the smoke dissipated, slithering out through the window or into Rennar’s cuts, all signs of the witches were gone.

So was the king.

Chapter 23

Prince Aleksi knelt by the fallen shards of glass where the king had vanished. “Father!”

“He’s gone,” Luc muttered under his breath. “Dead. You don’t come back from something like that.”

“I guess we know what happened to the Court of Isles,” Viggo murmured.

Rennar remained on the ground, groaning as his body convulsed. The ballroom was in terrible shape. Shards of crystal and broken plates littered the place. Chairs had been overturned in the commotion. Tables were upended. The floor was slick with spilled champagne.

“You see?” Queen Violante twisted toward the other Royals. “There is no denying now that we are under attack.”

Anxious grumbles came from the few remaining Royals. Aleksi, eyes rimmed in angry red, pushed himself to his feet. “It’s true,” he spat. “This is the Coven of Oxford’s work. This is why we must come together. Only then can we protect our borders and ensure what happened to my father doesn’t happen to any of you.”

“You mean protect your borders,” a prince from the Barren Court replied. “Your borders are closest to the Court of Isles. If the witches spread, they’ll spread to your territories first.”

“They’ll be your problem soon enough, Sorin,” Violante hissed.

Anouk leaned close to Luc. “Did you learn anything else from the Minaret Court princess?”