Midnight Beauties (Grim Lovelies 2)

Violante cut her off with a sharp look, but then it softened. “Ah, it’s you. A shame, what happened at the Baths. You could have been great.”

Could have been. Three little words like three little daggers to her heart. Could have been a witch. Could have been strong. Could have been more than a maid.

Her cheeks flushed with shame. She cleared her throat. “Now that the other Royals saw what happened, will they help us?”

The queen sneered. “You are a hopeful thing, aren’t you? No, little beastie. The attack on King Kaspar has only driven a wedge further between the realms. Now that the Court of the Woods and the Barren Court have witnessed the Coven’s power firsthand, they’re even less inclined to risk their lives to protect other realms. But I suppose they won’t have a choice when you and our prince marry. Not even the Barren Court would dare defy the Nochte Pax.” Violante’s gaze roamed over Anouk and she mused, “Perhaps you’ll be good to him.” Then she laughed. “Better than I was, in any case. I was a monster to him.”

Anouk ran her hand over Rennar’s forehead, hoping for a sign of recovery. His skin was cold. His lips were pale.

By the fireplace, Viggo tried to press a glass of water on Hunter Black, urging him to rehydrate. The assassin pushed it away. Hunter Black’s cheeks burned crimson. “You should have left me as a wolf, Viggo. I failed you.”

“Shh. Say nothing, my friend.” Viggo set down the glass and made as if to reassure him with a touch on the knee, but his hand hesitated and fell back into his own lap instead. Hunter Black bristled. Anouk felt as though she was watching something she shouldn’t. She knew that Hunter Black was in love with Viggo. Judging by the careful silence of Luc and Petra, everybody knew it, just as they also knew that Viggo wasn’t attracted to boys.

Viggo rested his palm on the assassin’s shoulder. “Our lives are intertwined, don’t you know that, Hunter Black? Where you go, I go.”

Hunter Black looked moodily at the lace tablecloth he was wrapped in and mumbled, “Even to hell?”

Viggo flicked a lace edge between his fingers. “Even there.”

“Even to Liverpool?”

“Oh God, no.”

That elicited a half smile from the assassin. Viggo tsked and plucked a few stray pieces of long gray fur off the tablecloth Hunter Black was wrapped in.

“You’ll catch your death in this ugly thing.” He twisted to face the group. “A penthouse full of magic handlers and no one can conjure him some clothes?”

Violante was offended by the idea that she would trouble herself with such simple magic. But Petra came over to the leather chairs. Luc’s elixir was still in her veins, unused on Rennar. Her gaze raked over the curtains and the billiard tables and then settled on a deck of cards with a black spade design. She gave them a quick shuffle and tossed them toward the ceiling. Quick as a flash, she threw out her hands and cast a trick that froze them in midair. Fifty-two cards hung like a lazy cloud over Hunter Black’s head. Petra began to whisper in the Selentium Vox, and the cards, one by one, exploded into fibers that wove themselves together into a dark fabric and then stitched themselves into sleeves and a collar and pants, and soon black trousers, a black shirt, and a coat floated over the coffee table. When the coat caught the light from the fire, an impression of spades shimmered. As a final touch, she whispered toward a paperweight of cut glass that had fallen on the floor. The paperweight floated across the room, then shattered apart and reformed into three smooth clear buttons that sewed themselves onto the shirt.

Hunter Black snatched the clothes out of the air and pulled them on, seeming not to be concerned that everyone got a good glimpse of his bare backside in the process. He tugged up the trousers and buttoned the coat’s glass buttons.

“Thanks,” he growled with a nod.

Anouk tugged off her socks and handed them to Hunter Black. “Here. They’re torn, though,” she said. “And, um, covered in soup.”

“I’ve seen worse. I’ve worn worse.”

“Anouk.”

She spun toward the billiard tables. Rennar was lifting up his head; his eyes were rimmed in red, but his blue-gray irises were clear and fixed on her.

Chapter 24

At the raspy sound of Rennar’s voice, Queen Violante turned too, but Anouk climbed over an ottoman and beat the queen to the prince’s side. She touched his forehead.

“Rennar! Are you all right?”

“Of course he is,” Violante declared. “I cured him.”

He pushed himself up on one arm and with his other hand, he touched his lips, his nose, and his ears, then looked at his fingers as though expecting blood. “I’m surprised to be breathing, to be honest.”

Anouk sat on the edge of the table. “Whatever that smoke was the Coven used to possess King Kaspar, it nearly got you. The king’s gone. Vanished just like the entire Court of Isles. The other Royals are nearly at war with one another, arguing over what to do next.”

He sat up halfway, shaking his head. “Never mind them at the moment.” He coughed, his whole body trembling with the effort. He ran a shaky hand over his face. “Where are the animals? The cat and the dog?” His voice was hoarse.

“Still in the ballroom.”

“Get them.”