Wish Bound (A Grimm Agency Novel Book 3) (3 page)

GRIMM’S WORDS HUNG
in the dead air, striking more fear into me than a pack of gremlins armed with grenades or an army of lawyers.

“You said it would be hundreds of years before Isolde had enough power to return.” My ears rang, and when Ari put her hand on my shoulder, I couldn’t help flinching.

“I was wrong, or perhaps right, and the timer simply started at her death. I told you my daughter’s actions were a blind spot for me. She arrived in Kingdom during the time you were . . . delayed. I suspect that her inability to locate you may have been a blessing. For now, you are safe. I will reopen the portal for you when I can.” Grimm disappeared, not even waiting for me to respond.

I put my hand on my bracelet, which was far more than a simple piece of jewelry. Made of pure magic, it allowed me to summon the Fairy Godfather in any reflective surface, but for what I had in mind, I didn’t need a mirror. By agreement with Grimm, I could contact a select few other people, though I wouldn’t be able to see them. “Liam.” I waited for the gentle touch of my fiancé’s mind. And waited, and waited some more.

“M, we’re a little occupied. Had a few thousand goblins arrive all at once.” Liam’s voice had an echo behind it, meaning he’d let the curse take control in return for the strength that came with it.

“The Black Queen was here, in the Forest.” I waited, counting seconds, listening for his reply. At last, his presence swept around me, the same feeling when we were sitting in my living room together, that simple pressure that said he was here.

His panic spiked through our connection, matching my own. “Marissa, hang on, I’ll be there—”

“Calm, Mr. Stone.” Grimm cut in on our conversation, something he almost never did. What exactly Liam said in response, I couldn’t hear with Grimm interfering, but Grimm’s side of the conversation came through loud and clear. “I assure you, Marissa is in the safest place possible. She’s in an entirely different realm. Your presence there would not assist her, while it may make the difference here. Please, Marissa, tell him.”

I wanted him there with me. I wanted to hold him and be held. To know that with his love, a few bullets, and a touch of magic, we’d find a way through this. The business side of me cut that desire to shreds. “I’m okay. Take care of the goblins, then take care of me.”

“I want to be with her.” Liam’s passion came through loud and clear, making me almost as happy as holding his hand. “I’m not playing around anymore. Any goblin that looks at me funny gets barbecued.”

Our link cut off, leaving me in the silence of the Forest. Not quite silence. Ari stood on a black stone obelisk, her hands clasped before her, chanting.

“What exactly are you doing?” I walked toward her.

With a wave her hand, a wall of wind pushed me back to the clearing edge. “Stay out of this, Marissa.”

At her feet, the runes carved in the stone lit up, one by one. With a gasp, I recognized the spell. Ari was attempting to open the portal.

“Stop! You can’t even program your DVR, let alone tune a portal.” I pushed my way through her barrier, though it buffeted me like a hurricane gale.

“I’ve spent a lot of time in Fae, M. I listened to everything the Fae Mother said.” Behind Ari, the portal blossomed like a rainbow rose opening. “I don’t have to tune it. Just open it to wherever it went last.”

“Grimm! Stop her!” I shrieked, holding my bracelet and broadcasting to the world. “Ari, stop! You might open a portal straight to the Black Queen.”

Ari opened her eyes for a moment, looking at me with a cold stare that left me frozen. “I know.”

The gale knocked me to my knees as Ari’s portal stabilized. “I don’t understand.”

Ari drew in the last of her magic, and the rush of wind ceased, leaving only the patter of leaves to the earth. “I’m going to fulfill my destiny.”

“Be what you are.” I’d repeated those words so many times, even Ari gave up complaining.

Ari shook her head. “I asked the Fae Mother how to stop the Black Queen, and I understand. I’m the last to challenge her before she is defeated. I’m going to save you.” With those words, Ari turned and walked through her makeshift portal.

The moment Ari left, her spell weakened, becoming nothing more than a strongly worded suggestion that I stay in place. I’d never been one to take suggestions, or commands for that matter. I paced back and forth, and waited for Ari to return. Waited for Grimm to answer me.

The stone slab where she’d summoned her portal stood empty. The light from the portal runes faded as the minutes passed, and the only sound was the occasional crackle of the Forest Seal, which rested in an altar-manger combination you’d never find on a baby registry on Earth.

Every crackle of magic from it reminded me of goblin feet crushing dead leaves. The last thing I needed was a close encounter of the green kind on their home turf, alone. As I glanced about wildly, searching, a flash of light hit me, like a glint from a mirror. When I turned to look at it, I saw nothing, but it hit me again as I scanned the slab. Wincing, I closed my eyes, then peeked out. Like a spot in the corner of my eye, if I looked just right, a beam of light shot out from the portal slab.

When I realized what I was looking at, it took my breath away. Death told me I needed to see, and I did. Through the veil that hid most of the spirit world, I saw where Ari had opened her portal.

And it wasn’t gone.

The last faint echoes of it hung, still outlined in the air. Invisible to human eyes, but maybe—

I sprinted toward the fragmenting vortex of light, curling into a ball as I leaped. My stomach swirled as the portal tore me from the Forest, casting me into the beyond.

I landed shoulder first, rolling onto my back and knocking the breath out of me, but the good news seemed to be that both of my feet, my hands, and all of my fingers made the trip with me. Even better, they weren’t rearranged into some sort of Picasso painting, where I’d pick my nose every time I moved my lips. The lights above looked familiar. Fluorescent.

The carpet underneath felt much too comfortable for the Agency. Grimm never paid for anything but the cheapest remnants available, on account of how often our carpet caught fire, got doused in blood, or transmuted into moss. Light streamed in from stained glass windows, and wooden chairs lay scattered like leaves before me, in a—

“Rise, handmaiden.” A voice like a silver flute, lilting with a French accent, laced with power. “I have awaited you.”

I rolled to my feet and froze.

Twenty feet away stood a face I recognized from a dozen history books. From half a dozen documentaries that showed on the Kingdom Channel late at night. From an oil painting that showed up on my front doorstep, sent by the doorman at the Court of Queens. Her beauty entranced me, regal, unreal. From the gentle sweep of her arms to brown eyes that mesmerized me, everything about her said she was as powerful, as beautiful, and probably even more dangerous than the documentaries claimed.

Her hair hung in long brown tresses to her waist, without the annoying curls that would have turned mine to springs at that length. Her figure, I’d call it killer, as in “that’s got to kill her back.” Like anyone else famous, she wasn’t nearly as tall as pictures made her look.

“Isolde Faron.” I practically spit her name, reaching for my bracelet. “Grimm, she’s here. Time to do your thing.”

The edges of her rose-pink lips curled up. “Yes, Father. Come and rescue your pet. Come and negate my power.”

The bracelet on my arm began to glow, almost white-hot, but Grimm didn’t even appear in the glass windows.

“Is something wrong?” The Black Queen glanced around. “Father, it’s going to be hard to have our family reunion without you present.”

Though my bracelet continued to glow like fire, Grimm showed no signs of coming to my rescue. I looked the Black Queen in the eyes and kept my tone firm. “Where is Ari?”

Isolde stepped to the side, and behind her, Ari hung in midair, spinning lazily like a top. “She challenged me to a contest. She, a peasant’s princess, not even trained.”

“Put her down.” I reached for my purse and the gun inside, realizing too late I’d left it behind in the Forest.

“Or?”

“I won’t let you hurt Ari.” I stepped to one side, watching her turn to face me.

“Take your place at my side, handmaiden, and I will forgive her challenge.”

I looked around, searching for something to throw, something to hit her with. “Not going to happen.”

I know exactly what a tennis ball feels like, when someone lines up and smacks it so hard it breaks the sound barrier. I can’t say what she hit me with, just that I went flying so hard and fast I hit the ground before I had time to flinch.

“You bear my mark.” Isolde appeared at the edge of my vision, gliding toward me like a phantom, staring down at me like Death himself. “You wear my ring. A ring you chose to put on. You declared yourself my handmaiden before the Court of Queens.”

Now, I can explain the mark. That was so not my fault, using the Black Queen’s bones to kill a fairy. The ring, I could almost explain. I really, really needed to get into the Court of Queens. As in, “The world will end if I don’t get in there.” That said, when I did those things, I still believed the Black Queen was dead. Standing before her never appeared anywhere on my “Things Marissa needs to do” list.

I kicked myself to my feet, unwilling to let her stare me down. “You want the ring back, take it.” I’m not entirely crazy. The debate in the Court of Queens over whether or not it was possible for me to be a handmaiden ended with the decision to seal the ring on me, until such time as Isolde took it from me.

I held out my hand, beckoning. “You want it?”

“No, handmaiden.” Isolde shook her head once. “You will be my emissary to the Court of Queens.”

Some people just don’t listen. So I picked up a chair and swung it at her, getting a nice smooth arc that would make a professional wrestler proud.

The chair
exploded
across her, shattering into a thousand pieces.

She didn’t move. If I’d hit her with a foam bat, I’d have done more. Splinters of wood rained like confetti all around her, and she had the absolute gall to ignore me.

“I don’t force my handmaidens. They come to me willingly.” She raised her hand toward Ari, and Ari convulsed. “I also don’t challenge lesser opponents, but I don’t deny them that right.”

I flung myself at the Black Queen, reaching for hair, clawing at eyes. I’d learned more martial arts than you’d think possible, but all of that was self-defense. In a brawl, a good hair pulling works perfectly well.

From what I could tell, I didn’t fall, the carpet zoomed up to smack me, then bounced me into the air and hit me like a fist again. And the building began to shake.

See, there was this one time when I impersonated a genocidal fairy-tale character and shot up a village full of wolves (in retrospect, it doesn’t sound so great). In the process, I rescued a Fae child, and his mother rewarded me with the worst pets in existence.

The windows split, spiderwebs running through them, and blew inward.

My pets were fifty percent cat, fifty percent ghost, one hundred percent psychotic. Creatures of pure magic, living spells called harakathin, they started out cute and cuddly, like a pirhana. You know how people pick a puppy at the shelter, and a few years later it weighs three hundred pounds and eats ponies?

My harakathin did something like that. The only good thing was the older they got, the less inclined to leave the house they were. Long as we sacrificed a daily can of cat food to them, they were happy. And when people made the mistake of threatening me, my harakathin objected in ways that required replacing the carpet, the windows, and every bone in the person’s body.

A pressure wave burst past me, heading for Isolde.

Where she’d regarded me as nothing more than a nuisance, Isolde glanced at the air above me and switched to a battle stance. Of course she had spirit sight—I’d never seen it mentioned, but from the way her eyes tracked movement, I had no doubts. She held one arm in front of her, and with the other, held a whip of raw magic, which bubbled out of her hand. She lashed out with it, twisting her whip through the air to strike.

I closed an eye and peered through the veil. There, I could see my harakathin. Each stood at least twelve feet tall, with long arms that trailed on the ground. One glowed pure white, the one called blessing. The other, technically a curse, shone with violet light. In my experience, the term
blessing
or
curse
was completely arbitrary.

Isolde swung her whip, slicing a cut open across blessing’s chest. A shower of golden sparks trailed to the ground as my pet bled magic, and I winced, losing my tenuous view through the veil. Before me, Isolde twisted and sidestepped, lashing out again and again. A storm gathered on her face with every act, and every time she swung, a hint of fear crept into her eyes. A gash tore open in her dress, and her whip faltered, fading away.

And for one split second, fear found footing in Isolde’s eyes. The carpet rippled toward her, and all sound ceased. My ears rang in the silence.

Then the world breathed out.

At least, that’s the closest I can get to it. Like Isolde had sucked reality itself inside her and blew it out. From the corners of the room, a wail like all the voices of the dead and every wounded cat to ever grace a highway split my ears.

“Oblivion.” Isolde spoke the word, and the air snapped, like static electricity.

I felt them die. My blessings. My pets. Torn away in an instant, blown to shreds by a force of magic so strong, I’d never encountered anything remotely like it. Sharp pain flared inside me as two lives guttered out like candles in a hurricane.

It’s a good thing I was already on my face; I wouldn’t have been able to stand.

Ari’s gasps roused me, choking cries, like a hamster caught in a blender. I pushed up, looking for her, and the spotlight-in-the-eyes hit me again as my vision momentarily aligned with my peephole in the veil. This time, I understood how to use it, tilting my head just so.