Midnight Beauties (Grim Lovelies 2)

“Maybe.” Luc pressed his hands together. “But it’s no small thing, giving up our humanity. After everything we’ve fought for, the idea of returning to our origins, even temporarily, feels like defeat.”

Petra’s lowered her eyelids slightly. She was beginning to understand, but she still frowned. She spun on Anouk. “I get it, I do, but there’s no other way. What, we’re supposed to trust in Rennar’s plan? Even if he manages to get the Royals to cooperate—?which is a big if—?they’ll only be slowing the Coven down. That isn’t a solution, it’s a Band-Aid.” When Anouk just chewed on her lip, unsure what to say, Petra turned to Cricket. “Come on, Cricket. You know that this makes sense.”

Cricket folded her arms tightly. “Do I? My whole life, I’ve daydreamed about beasties being able to cast magic, and now we can. We have libraries full of spells, people who can teach us. Yesterday I learned h

ow to make myself invisible. But I can’t do magic if I have paws.”

Petra groaned and turned to Beau, but he cut off whatever she’d been about to say.

“I’ve been human all of three days, Petra. Let me live a little! I want to race a car down the Boulevard Saint-Michel. I want to shop at Galeries Lafayette. I want to eat—?mon Dieu, do I ever want to eat. And—” He stopped short. His eyes rested on Anouk, and he looked at her in a way that didn’t need words for everyone in the room to understand exactly what he wanted to do with Anouk.

Petra slumped against the windowsill and threw her hands up. “I’m trying to help. Trying to save the world, you know.”

Anouk rested a hand on Petra’s shoulder. “Your idea’s brilliant, Petra. But even if we went through with it, how would we turn back to humans once we reached London? Only a few Royals are powerful enough to perform the spell, and none of them can cross into the city. Viggo certainly can’t turn us back. Viggo can’t do anything.”

“Hey,” he protested. “I’m feeling very ganged up on at the moment.”

Petra was quiet. She clearly didn’t have an answer. But a deep voice spoke from behind them.

“I might know someone who can help.”

Rennar stood in the billiard-room doorway. How long had he been listening? He wore casual loose gray pants, a white cotton T-shirt that hugged his biceps, and a crimson terrycloth robe. Anouk glanced at the grandfather clock. It was nearly dawn.

Despite the pajamas, he strode in with a princely air. “Sinjin.”

“Sinjin? Oh, from the party? Black gloves? Tattoos around the back of his neck? A golden hare?”

Rennar nodded. “He deals in information. He was a hacker before the Court of Isles got their hands on him—?hence the tattoos of zeros and ones. Binary code. He’d been dating a Goblin girl who talked in her sleep. He found out about the Haute and went to Lady Imogen, begged to be let into our world. Normally she’d have wiped his mind, but hacking skills are useful to people like us, people who can’t use advanced forms of technology, like the internet, without losing our magic. He’s a Pretty, so the border spell has no effect on him. He can come and go freely in London. I sent him back to the city a few days ago to do more reconnaissance. He’s there now, based in Omen House in Piccadilly.”

“But if he’s a Pretty,” Cricket countered, “he can’t change us back.”

“He can’t, no. But I can. There is a way that we could . . . arrange . . . to have you turned back.” He went to the wall of chess pieces, selected one hewn from purple amethyst, and waved it enticingly in the air.

Cricket groaned. “He’s talking in riddles again.”

“Dear Cricket, sometimes riddles are preferable to reality. Did you know that the Haute can store magic in certain gemstones? Emeralds for beauty. Amber for love. Blue diamonds for transformation. With the proper tools, a skilled Pretty can release the spells they hold. Amethyst,” he mused, toying with the chess piece, “has always been one of my favorites. Give me a few days. It’ll take time.”

Beau grumbled again about wanting to use his thumbs for a while longer. Cricket had drawn out one of her knives and was twirling it absently, a scowl on her face.

“It’s an awful plan,” Hunter Black said gruffly, breaking the silence. “But it’s the only one we have.”

Petra raised a glass to that.

Anouk chewed her lip, turning back to the window. Paris was beautiful at night in the rain, the streets like glass, the lights and headlights like streaking stars. Could she really turn back voluntarily? She’d fought so hard to keep from turning back. And there were deeper worries. Worries she hadn’t yet fixed a name to. Worries that those dark shadows might be made of the same magic as the Noirceur.

“Anouk?” Beau touched her shoulder and she jumped. Everyone was staring at her as though they’d been trying to get her attention.

He searched her face. “Are you okay?”

She tore her eyes away from his and gave a shallow nod.

“We don’t have much time,” Cricket said unhappily. “If Quine’s sister is crying black tears, who’s next? We don’t know how the Coven is reaching them, what King Kaspar and Mia and the entire Court of Isles have in common. I hate the plan, but Hunter Black’s right. We don’t have anything better.”

“Then it’s decided?” Luc asked. “I’m in, but it must be unanimous.”

“I’m in too,” Cricket said glumly. “But I don’t like it.”

“And I.” Hunter Black nodded.