Midnight Beauties (Grim Lovelies 2)
Her cheeks were warming. She started to pick up the fallen tray but, to her surprise, he cupped her chin and smoothed his thumb over her own bottom lip.
“And you have pie on yours.” He licked the smear of blackberry pie off his thumb. “It doesn’t bother me.”
For a moment Anouk was caught in the spell of the aromas surrounding them—?spices and peppermint and warm flaky crusts, smells that she’d missed. Hard to believe that just steps away were the cold, dreary hallways of the abbey.
She cleared her throat. “And why, exactly, have you abducted me to the dessert pantry?”
His teasing eyebrow fell, and the look in his eyes grew serious. “Luc told me you found information about the Coven.”
Curls of frigid air were drifting in from a crack in the door. Anouk shivered, wishing she could regain the spell of simpler times: warm, sugary delights. “Not about the Coven, exactly, but about the source of their magic. The Noirceur. Have you heard of it?”
He shook his head, but then stopped, as if he were remembering something from centuries ago. “Maybe.”
“It’s an ancient time, the Darktime. When plagues like what’s happening today were common, when the balance between magic and early forms of technology was even more unstable than it is now. The Duke has books about it in his private library. Tomorrow, everyone will be distracted during the Coal Bath trials. You and I can’t go missing—?our absence would be noticed. But not Luc’s. No one’s even
looked hard enough to realize he’s a beastie you dressed up as a baron. He can break into the Duke’s library and steal the other references to the Noirceur. If we can figure out the source of the Coven’s magic, maybe we can stop it.”
Rennar nodded. “Good.” But he hovered near the jars of caramel, looking as though he had something else to say. He favored his right leg slightly.
The cold air bit at Anouk’s bare heels. “What is it?”
He tipped his head toward her and said quietly, “Luc said you lost your magic.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “It was taken.”
“Regardless, it’s a problem. It changes things.” He paused and then confessed, “I don’t think you should undergo the Baths tomorrow. It’s too much of a risk.”
“Don’t worry. I have it back—?in a sense. It’s my crux, in the form of a bell. I’m going to carry it into the flames in the morning.”
He studied her carefully. “Are you sure?”
She gave him a hard look. “Is this just you trying to get out of our deal? Luc in exchange for Viggo and the Goblins. Hunter Black when I become a witch. Cricket for marrying you. I’ve kept up my side so far. The other beasties—”
“Anouk, forget the other beasties. You can have Hunter Black. You can have Cricket. Come back with me now and I’ll change them before your eyes. Our bargain is just a silly game—?don’t you see that? I’ll concede if it means you don’t risk killing yourself.” When she stared at him blankly, he added, “Every girl thinks she’s found her crux. Every girl has some vision or dream. Every girl steps into the flames thinking she’ll be the one to walk out the other side. You say you’re sure, but you can’t truly know.”
The smell of cinnamon was starting to burn her throat. She rested a hand on her chest, taking slow, deep breaths. “What about the Coven of Oxford? I can’t defeat them without strong magic. Witch magic. Otherwise, what does it matter if Cricket and Hunter Black and Luc and Beau are human or not? We won’t be human or animal or anything if the Coven takes over Paris.”
Rennar hesitated a second too long. His hand drifted to the too-smooth place on his neck, below his ear, where he’d been nearly cut in half. Then he moved his hand down his torso, as though tracing the injury. “We’ll find another way.”
She grabbed his hand. “What other way? You said it yourself—?you need me, and you need me to be more powerful than the witches. The only way for me to do that is to undergo the Coal Baths. The other beasties can’t do it; they can’t cast whispers as well as I can.”
“If the Coven takes Paris and the near realms, we’ll flee to the far realms.”
“The Coven will spread there too. It’s just a matter of time.”
He cursed in a mix of French, the Selentium Vox, and a language so ancient Anouk had never heard it before. He let go of her hand. “Fine. Kill yourself, if you’re so determined to die.”
“I’m not going to die.” She balled her hand into a fist. “Why do you even care?”
His eyes smoldered in the shadows. “I’ve known princesses. I’ve known queens. I’ve never known anyone who was meant to be a monster but who baked pies instead, who danced with Goblins, who loved a witch, who never hated a single thing in the world. Except me, perhaps.”
“I don’t hate you.”
“Well, wait until we’re married.”
He paced in front of sacks of marshmallows, dragging his right leg slightly, then turned sharply toward her. Impulsively, he took her face in his hands. Then he pressed his lips to hers. The pantry went dark—?the flames in his palm had been extinguished by their touch. Surprised, she leaned back against the racks of cooling pies. Cherry. Pecan. Chocolate cream. The rich smells made her lightheaded. Rennar put his a hand on her waist and deepened the kiss. His fingers pulled gently against the fabric of her dress, inching her closer. She reached a hand up, thoughtlessly, to touch his jaw. He let out a small sigh and kissed her again. Had she gone mad? Every Royal in Europe was mere steps away. Luc was just beyond the door. Beau was in the cellar, even if he was, currently, a dog. But Rennar’s lips tasted of powdered sugar. She’d missed such little comforts. The flavor of something sweet. The touch of another person.
She pulled back abruptly. The pantry was so dark that she couldn’t see his face. “What was that for?”