Grim Lovelies (Grim Lovelies 1)

It was impossible to

guess what Petra might do when they arrived. At first blush, Petra had seemed content living with Zola and tending the gardens, but Anouk knew from experience that just because a witch’s servant looked happy didn’t mean she was.

“Let’s hope that soft spot in her heart extends to Goblins.”

She smelled the lavender long before they saw the fields. Pine-like and rich, a smell that was intoxicating even now that she’d learned about the dark secrets that might be buried beneath the soil. They crested a hill and the first lavender rows appeared in long arcs that stretched toward the midday sun. It was a clear day, but there was a chill in the air. She was glad for her jacket. She patted the pockets where she had stashed a knife and the contra-beastie spell.

Beau pulled ahead of the pack and signaled to the others to follow him down the road to the estate. The Château des Mille Fleurs’ topiary hedge rose along both sides of the road. The leaves looked sharper, more like slick green blades. Had the hedge always been so high? It was tall enough now to block out the sun and plunge them into shadow.

Beau slowed to a steady crawl as he led the procession of motorcycles down the gravel lane, but he didn’t bother to cut his engine, dismount, and walk his bike. There was no reason for stealth—?the crow spies had made certain they would surprise no one. He stopped ten feet from the gate, signaling for the Goblins to go no farther.

“The hedge is dangerous,” he called. “Don’t let anyone get too close.”

“So how do we get through?” December asked.

Beau dismounted and waved over Anouk and the others. In Luc’s fairy tales, armies always brought a vast array of weapons: pistols, armored horses, missiles. But the most threatening-looking things in this Goblin army were a few sharp hatpins. They were as bound by the vitae echo as the Royals. This battle would be fought with magic, not firearms.

Anouk and Luc and Cricket and Beau gathered beside the call box. Hunter Black, in typical Hunter Black fashion, had separated himself from the crowd and was inspecting the hedge as closely as he dared. From the corner of her eye, Anouk saw a Goblin take cautious steps to the nearest branch and poke it hesitantly with an umbrella. She was about to call for him to back away when Luc said, “We could dig under.”

Beau shook his head. “That’s how Viggo got in last time. I saw Mada Zola cast a spell to prevent it ever happening again.”

“If we set up a ramp,” Cricket offered, “the Goblins could jump it with their motorcycles.”

“The spell blocks us from going over too,” Beau said.

A sudden scream interrupted them. The Goblin who’d wandered too close to the hedge was flat on the ground with vines wrapped around his ankles. He tried to sit up, but two more vines reached from the hedge and clamped onto his arms. All too fast, the vines dragged him inward.

“Kingsley!” Tenpenny cried.

In a few strides, Hunter Black was by the Goblin’s side with his knife drawn. He slashed at the vines, but there were too many of them. For every one he cut, three more appeared. The Goblin cried out, his voice rising in pitch, silenced only when the vines swallowed him into the hedge.

Only a blue bowler hat was left behind.

A stunned silence overtook the crowd.

Tenpenny ran up, breathless, with eyes even wider than usual. He picked up the fallen hat with shaking hands. A vine curled around Hunter Black’s wrist, but he sliced it off and stepped out of reach. Tenpenny and the rest of the Goblins took a few steps backward too.

Worry rippled through the crowd. Anouk turned to the trash bins and kicked one over with a frustrated cry. Champagne bottles tumbled out amid a messy tangle of sticks.

She stopped moving.

At first, the sticks looked like any hedge trimmings, but a certain twist of one branch caught her eye. The branch curved almost like a jaw with a row of thorns rising up like teeth.

“Toblerone,” she whispered.

“Now is no time to think about chocolate,” Tenpenny said sharply.

“No, it’s Toblerone!” She held up the jaw branch. “These sticks used to make up an enchanted topiary bear. The branches were his bones. He died—?in a sense. He was cut up and pulled apart. Petra must have dumped him out here with the trash.”

Luc, still weak from his time in the oubliette, looked aghast. “Who would do that to an innocent shrubbery bear?”

Both Anouk and Cricket looked pointedly at Hunter Black, who scowled. “That was a long time ago.”

“It was the day before yesterday!” Cricket yelled.

“Well, a day and a half ago I was trying to tear you apart too, Cricket. And look at us now. One big happy family whose members haven’t attempted to murder one another in at least a few hours.”

Anouk gathered the branches of the bear and laid them out like puzzle pieces on the gravel lane. “If we can resurrect him, there’s a chance he could get through the hedge. He’s made of hedge. And he’s outside the estate borders, which means Zola can’t control him.”