Midnight Beauties (Grim Lovelies 2)

“We aren’t bound by anything Mada Vittora made us for. Not anymore. And neither was Viggo. Since she died, he’s been free to make his own choices too. You saved his life countless times. It was his choice to save yours.”

Hunter Black turned away to hide the dampness pooling in his dark eyes. Cricket uncertainly offered him an Hermès scarf she’d stolen from Pickwick and Rue’s. He grumbled at the floral pattern but then took it.

The chimes of Big Ben tolled.

Anouk’s heart lurched until she realized the clock was simply tolling the hour. Once more, she was taken by how normal the city was. How delightful it was just to see regular Pretties going about their regular little lives, tourists bent over guidebooks, police chasing after a stray dog, a boy and a girl walking hand in hand.

And coming down the sidewalk was Luc. He was limping slightly, a fever sheen in his eyes, straining just to walk. He should have been fully healed by now, but he looked ten times worse than he had when he’d gone to the museum to check on Duke Karolinge. When he caught sight of Anouk and saw that she was safe, his pained expression eased.

She stared at his weakened state. “Luc, you look—”

He shook his head like it didn’t matter. Clammy sweat was slick on his temples. “Duke Karolinge is gone. The snow spell exhausted him. He couldn’t continue. As soon as he stopped whispering, the mummies unfroze and found him on the roof before he had the strength to start casting again. It wasn’t pretty.”

Her stomach felt suddenly hollow. “I was afraid that was the case.”

It had taken her a long time to trust a man—?a Royal—?whose job was to watch so many Pretty girls die. In the end, he’d finally faced his own coals.

Luc faltered. He leaned against a building, wheezing.

Anouk frowned. “Rennar, I need a favor.” She eyed the bright midday sun. “I need for you to make it snow one last time.”

Chapter 47

Once more, the day turned dark. Prince Rennar stood on Westminster Bridge, casting a whisper and circling his left hand, pulling in clouds over the London skyline. Pretties frowned up at the sky and opened their umbrellas against fresh snow. The fact that the snowstorm spanned only the length of the bridge and that the sun was still shining on both banks didn’t seem to vex them.

Anouk stepped onto the bridge. “Will you join me, Luc?”

He limped onto the bridge in halting steps, one hand pressed to his heart. Snow collected on his head and shoulders.

He took her hand and asked softly, “What are you doing, Dust Bunny?”

“Saving you.”

She squeezed his hand in hers. If Luc had taught her to believe in anything, it was the power of hope. But she’d also learned that wishes weren’t enough. True magic didn’t happen by accident. It took blood and bone and bargains with ancient creatures that looked like little boys.

An icy gust of wind blustered at her back, announcing his presence.

“Hello, lovely.”

She turned toward Jak. He was perched on the bridge railing beneath a streetlamp, its lantern casting a halo over his head.

“Hello, Jak.”

He grinned his sharp-toothed smile. “Have you summoned me so that I can collect my prize?”

Luc’s palm was sweating, though from the poison or from nerves, Anouk wasn’t sure. Rennar continued his quiet whisper behind them, left hand gesturing in an endless circle, and one by one, the other Snow Children materialized on the lampposts and railings of the bridge, their eyes hungry.

Anouk squeezed Luc’s hand. He still smelled like thyme, and it took her back to Mada Vittora’s townhouse attic, to the stories Luc made up for her, to games of invisible ink and secret messages. At the end of the bridge, where the snow stopped, Cricket and Petra and Beau waited. Their faces were pinched. They didn’t try to interfere.

“Luc,” Anouk whispered. “I can reason with Jak. I can take your place. There are ways to give up being a witch.”

She expected him to argue. She was even ready for him to try to throw her over the side of the bridge to keep her from making such a deadly promise. But she didn’t expect him to laugh. It came out of him in deep rolling bursts that gradually turned to coughs, and he doubled over and hacked into the snow. When he straightened, he wasn’t smiling.

“Dust Bunny, I thought you’d have guessed.”

Her face pulled tight. “Guessed what?”

He pressed his hand against his heart. “The poison.”