Grim Lovelies (Grim Lovelies 1)

“Promise me you’ll take care of them.”

Petra didn’t answer.

“Promise.”

Petra’s wrist was thin, like Anouk’s own, but that didn’t mean strength didn’t flow through both of them. In the quiet of the garage, Anouk could feel the steady pulse-pulse-pulse of the girl’s heartbeat.

Petra nodded. “I’ll do what I can for them. Now get out of here already.”

She tugged on a cord hanging from the ceiling, and the nearest garage door rose. Beau turned the key and the Aston Martin roared to life. He threw it in reverse, then pressed the gas. And then they were tearing out of the garage into the garden. Sparking bolts of white-hot magic hurtled at them from all directions, singeing the hood ornament, cracking against the windshield. As they sped through the dirt path between the lavender fields, Anouk dared one last glance in the side mirror at the château. A figure stood in the bell tower, silhouetted against the fading sun, heavily favoring one leg.

Prince Rennar had survived, which meant that Hunter Black probably hadn’t.

He remained perfectly still as he watched them leave, and even long after they were on the highway back to Paris, Anouk felt velvety tapeta eyes on the back of her neck.

Chapter 40

Three Hours of (New) Enchantment Remain

They spoke little on the drive back to Paris. What was there to say, Anouk thought, except I’m sorry?

I’m sorry, Hunter Black.

I’m sorry, Cricket.

I’m sorry, Luc, and Tenpenny, and all the Goblins who died.

I’m sorry to you, Beau, and to me—?because I can’t stop midnight.

That damn black-cat clock was still ticking away on the dashboard, and somewhere around Grenoble, Beau grabbed it with his good hand and threw it out the window. Anouk said nothing. She was glad to see it go. No more clocks. No more ticking. She didn’t want to know the countdown to the end. If this was truly it, then she wanted to spend their last night free of the weight of time. She wanted to curl up in an enormous bed full of soft pillows, just Beau and her and Viggo—?if Viggo was okay—?and drink Mada Vittora’s champagne and drape herself in diamonds and kiss Beau and, oh yes, kiss Beau. That most of all.

She squeezed the franc-coin necklace, keeping it safe in her fist.

When she’d dropped a coin in the fountain at the end of Rue des Amants, she’d made a wish to keep them safe. Had the coin worked? Or had it been her whisper in the closet that had protected them? Or perhaps simply luck?

But a coin was all she had now.

She leaned forward, looked up through the windshield at the moon.

“We’re almost there,” Beau said, as though reading her worries. “We’ll make it before midnight.”

They entered the city, and Paris didn’t disappoint. The clouds had lifted, and the night was velvety black and beautiful. The more she saw of Paris, the more dreamlike it was; she wasn’t sure where the streetlights ended and the stars began. She leaned her head against the cool window, watching the blocks roll by one by one. Cafés and boutiques. Pharmacies and patisseries. And above the shops, lights were on in apartments where families watched television, and couples snuggled on sofas, and mothers taught their daughters to cook coq au vin.

She pressed the pads of her fingers to the glass, wanting to touch the city, to taste it, to

know all there was to know about everything in the world.

They passed a church with a spotlighted spire that drew her eye up, up, to the very top, where a clock presided over the streets.

She jerked upright abruptly: She couldn’t help but see the time.

“Beau. It’s ten minutes to midnight.”

The Aston Martin purred beneath them as he whipped around corners, dodging other cars with an easy grace. And then the houses were more familiar; she recognized that gabled rooftop. That dented mailbox. They were on Rue des Amants.

Beau started to park and Anouk was out of the car before they’d even fully stopped. She ran around to his door, threw it open, and tugged him out, away from the house and toward the far end of the lane.

“Where are you going?”