Midnight Beauties (Grim Lovelies 2)

Someone threw water on her face and she shot up with a gasp. Blinking, wiping water out of her eyes, she tried to focus, and in a moment, she was looking at two familiar faces.

“Luc! Viggo!”

They stood at the end of the bed she was in. Viggo’s cane rested against the footboard but he was standing without it, his arms crossed over his chest. There was a healthier color to his face. His dark eyes were bright and clear. Best of all, his slouchy hat was nowhere to be seen, replaced with a slick of hair gel and a trace of gold eyeliner. The Goblins must have gotten to him.

Viggo slapped Luc. “I told you she was awake!”

A sudden wave of nausea hit Anouk and she doubled over in the bed, clutching at her stomach.

Luc’s smiled faded. “Easy, Dust Bunny. You’ve been through a lot.”

The burning sensation reached Anouk’s temples but she dismissed it and tried to throw off the covers. “The Baths . . . I was burning . . . the whole forest was on fire . . .”

Her gaze fell on a basket of fruit on the nightstand. A bright yellow note told her to GET WELL SOON ALREADY! Next to it was a bouquet of lilies that looked more than a few days past their prime. She ran her fingers over the bed’s silk duvet, confused. The bed was monstrously luxurious, not at all like her simple cot in the Cottage room she shared with Petra. This bedroom was glittering with crystal lamps and golden wall sconces, mahogany furniture and paintings of regal-looking people on regal-looking horses.

“It’s clean in here. Too clean.” She tilted her head to the side. “This isn’t the Cottage, is it? Not even the guest quarters are this nice.”

“You’re in Paris,” Luc told her.

“Castle Ides,” Viggo added.

Anouk pressed a hand to her temple. The pain wasn’t going away. Hazy daylight came from a pair of windows. She shifted to look outside. A gray city skyline, rain falling. In the distance, the sloping point of the Eiffel Tower.

She collapsed back against the pillows with an exhale and kneaded her hands against her forehead. “This is all wrong. I should be in the Black Forest. The Coal Baths . . .” Her throat seemed to close up as she remembered the agonizing sensation of being torn apart. She had no idea what had happened after that.

Luc sank onto the edge of the bed, gently taking her hand between his. “You fell, Anouk. Into the flames. It was awful to see. You looked like you were screaming but I couldn’t hear you. I tried to run to help you but Duke Karolinge wouldn’t permit it. Petra kept yelling for you to get back up, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. Your robes burned off, and your skin started to burn. And then—” He cocked his head as though he was still uncertain about what occurred next. “And then Rennar started whispering. At first none of us understood what he was doing. Once the Royals realized what he was summoning, it was too late to stop him.”

She sucked in her breath. Rennar must have heard her call for help through the mirror. “What did he summon?”

“A storm,” Luc continued. “A black rain strong enough to put out the flames. I worried it was too late—?you were curled in a ball, looking for all the world like a charred scrap of toast. The Royals were furious that he’d interrupted the Baths. The rest of the acolytes weren’t able to undergo the trial. They’re still alive—?Lise and Jolie and Sam and Karla. In the chaos, Petra and I were able to pull you off the coals and get you back inside the Cottage. Duke Karolinge practically sent Rennar into exile. We barely made it back to Paris before the other Royals conjured up pitchforks. Metaphorically speaking.”

He gently placed the bell in her lap. Her pulse quickened.

“I found this.”

Her hands started shaking. It was melted and misshapen. One look told her there was no green orb of light trapped in the metal leaves anymore. The magic inside must have burned away in the flames. Now it was nothing more than a useless lump of metal. She wanted to grab it and throw it across the room. “It’s just a piece of junk.”

Her pulse was thundering now. Someone had dressed her in pajamas with long sleeves. She shoved up the sleeves, grimaced to find bruises and burn marks. Her skin should have been as preternaturally smooth as Petra’s. She shook her head fiercely. “It . . . it didn’t work. I’m not a witch. We have to go back, Luc. I have to try again!”

“We can’t. We’re banished from the Cottage. Anyway, the Royals couldn’t light the coals again. They won’t hold any Coal Bath trials until next year.”

She felt as though she were falling. She clutched the sheets. Banished from the Cottage? It was a cold, desolate place, and yet it had also been the one place where her wishes could be granted. And now she’d never set foot there again. She leaned forward so her hair curtained her face. The smell of rotting flowers turned her stomach. She glanced at the fading lilies. “How long have I been here?”

“A week.”

Her stomach twisted. Luc squeezed her hand. “It’s not all bad. I found those books you told me about in the Duke’s library. They reference plagues similar to what’s happening in London, just like you said they would. I was able to steal the books when we left the Cottage in such a hurry. I’m hopeful they’ll contain some answers.”

Books?

She stared down at her clasped hands. She felt hollowed out like a pumpkin, her insides gutted and tossed into the slop pile for goats. She was supposed to have been the most powerful creature in all of Europe right now, and instead they were telling her to be hopeful about some books?

She balled up her hands and stuffed them under her thighs in disgust. “I have to talk to Rennar. There must be some way I can fix this. I chose the wrong crux. But I could choose again . . .”

Choose what? she thought. She’d been so certain about the bell. The night of the firewalk, when Little Beau had barked up at Saint, she’d felt struck by lightning. What had she gotten so horribly wrong? She touched her side, which didn’t hurt now. Rennar must have healed the stab wound she’d gotten from Frederika.

“Rennar’s been working around the clock to win back the favor of the other Royals,” Luc continued. “Ever since the Coal Baths didn’t, ah, turn out as we hoped, he’s changed his strategy. If we can’t go to London and defeat the Coven through force, we can at least attempt to keep them out of the other realms. He wants to conjure a defense spell to prevent them from spreading beyond London, but for that he needs the other Royals’ cooperation. Their borders are intertwined; if one falls, they all fall. And after he wreaked havoc on the Coal Baths, more than a few of them are inclined never to speak to him again.”

She grimaced. “A border spell? That will slow the Coven down, but it won’t stop them. What about regaining the Goblins’ home city? And the Royals who disappeared? And all the Pretties who live there? We can’t cut off an entire city and leave it to fend for itself.”