Verena
"What gives?" I ask the handsome model in the mirror as I braid my damp hair.
Eris has been silent the entire time I rinsed off Wulf's B-word and cum and came back upstairs to change into another bland outfit.
Now his multicolored opalescent gaze meets mine through the glass.
"What gives?" he repeats idly, like I've drawn him from a faraway thought.
"Yeah, where's the sassy I told you so? My verbal comeuppance? You were right, after all—I got sick from not sticking to Rhinestone's demented diet, and I had to feed directly from Wulf just like you said. Go ahead, gloat. I deserve it."
Instead of gloating, Eris studies me for a long moment. His voice is soft.
"I thought you would die. I alone could do nothing to stop it."
"Aww. Sounds like someone was worried about his pal."
He pinches the bridge of his nose. "For the last fucking time, we are not pals."
"Friends, then. Amigos. Homies. We're Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, if Butch Cassidy was a sexy redhead and the Sundance Kid was a hot poet with majestic iridescent hair."
Instead of sighing about the reference he doesn't understand, Eris tilts his head.
"Moral ambiguities aside, you seem to desire the Huntsman nearly as much as he desires you. You even took comfort in his embrace just now. Wouldn't you miss him, if you found a way home? Perhaps you should just stay in this world, with m—with him."
I blink. "You're kidding."
"Not remotely."
"You're actually suggesting that I stay? No, I have to get back to my world."
"Why? You told Snow White that you're all alone there.
If you have no one to return to, why not simply build a new life here?
" he presses, one of his hands splaying on the glass between us.
"Being the queen suits you so well. You've already begun to mend her cruel reputation and improve other things here.
If you stay, the Huntsman will protect you and I can finally—"
"Eris, I'm not staying," I cut in emphatically, my humor gone.
He withdraws his hand from the glass to fold his arms. "Give me one good reason you shouldn't."
"I'll give you three." I count on my fingers as I talk.
"I can't stand being this bloodsucking thing any longer than I have to, I don't want to find out if this magical world will somehow force the evil queen's terrible fate to play out, and—oh, hello—there's that creepy-ass mirror that shows my soul is shattered into pieces, probably from being in the wrong world.
Did you forget about that little detail?
I sure didn't, because it haunts my fucking dreams. Who knows what will happen to the rest of my soul if I stay here much longer? "
The trapped Adonis looks ready to argue, up until my final point. He looks away, thinking.
"We don't know if it's because you're in the wrong world, but…that mirror is concerning."
"Tell me about it. Now, please tell me you talked to that asshole faerie about possible ways I can get back to my safe, cozy little apartment and my bedside drawer full of battery-operated boyfriends."
"What-operated whats?"
I wave off his question—although I would seriously give anything to take the edge off of the lingering arousal from nearly getting railed by the rugged Huntsman.
Practicing self-restraint sucks, especially when my libido can't grasp why it would be wrong to fuck that gorgeous Viking.
Eris sighs. "I did speak to Wrath."
"Yes! That's my Sundance Kid. What's the verdict?"
I can tell he's having an inner conflict of some kind before he mutters something under his breath and meets my gaze once more.
"He says he can send you home if you free him from Reinhilde's magic first. Not that I think you should trust him—in fact, you should trust no one except the Huntsman and me," he adds.
Thank god. A new lead.
"Thanks, but I learned a long time ago that I'm a pretty good judge of character, so I'll trust whoever I want. Now I just have to find a way to free… what's-his-face." I wrinkle my nose. "Macbeth, Michelangelo, M…"
"Malivant," he supplies.
"Right. Malivant."
No sooner do I repeat the name than the faerie's voice echoes inside my head again, exactly the way it did when I was pissed off at those jerks harassing Anika and Ingrid.
"So you do recall my true name. I was beginning to question your mental capacities. If you desire my aid, otherworlder, first seek the means to free me. Repeat these words: By fair-blest blood, for shame-bound Wrath, let this curse yield its truth at last."
"Verena?" Eris asks when he sees my expression. "What is it?"
As much as I don't like hearing that faerie in my head again, I want to get this over with.
Clearing my throat, I lift my chin. "By fair-blest blood, for shame-bound Wrath, let this curse yield its truth at last."
Instantly, the tingling sensation of magic sweeps through me again.
I gasp when an invisible force tugs me toward the mirror, making me nearly collide with Eris's reflection. I stop myself just in time.
"Damn that faerie," Eris scowls, putting the pieces together quickly. "That spell must be leading you to one of Reinhilde's secret rooms. She may have recorded her past incantations in those journals."
I reach around to click open the secret entrance. Sure enough, the magic guides me quickly down the stairs, pressing me forward like a soft underwater current.
Wulf is striding back down the cool, sconce-lit stone hallway from checking things out, but he pauses when he sees me moving toward him.
"Where are you going, vantaei?"
What the hell did he just call me? Van-tah-thi?
I don't have time to ask as I reach for the handle of the red door, expecting the spell to lead me in there.
But it keeps pressing to get me to walk past the Huntsman, and I groan as I finally reach the green door.
Damn it. I was really hoping to avoid this room.
Cracking the door open, I fight a shiver and allow the spell to pull me into the small room, to one of the many shelves. I make a point of not looking at the velvet-draped soul-baring mirror on the wall as my hand is pulled to one of the thick leather-bound journals.
The second I pull the book off the shelf, the cover wrenches open.
It startles me enough that I yelp and drop it. The old journal falls on its spine, ink-covered pages flipping open and trilling until it stops abruptly.
I wait for a long second to see if the spell does something else, but it's deathly quiet.
"What is this?" Wulf asks.
My heart jolts at the sound of his low voice directly behind me in this dark room. He's close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off of his big, strong body—and holy shit, why am I so tempted to lean back into him?
Is it just because I'm relieved that I'm not all alone in this unlit, uncanny journal room, or…am I starting to like him?
Oh, god. I think it's the second thing.
It's official. I need to watch myself around these gorgeous fairytale men.
"This is supposedly how I'm going to free your former partner in crime," I reply, scooping the journal up from the floor.
Keeping it open to the page the spell revealed, I retrace my steps down the secret passage toward the stairs. Wulf shuts the door behind us and keeps up with me easily, thanks to his long lumberjack legs.
"Wrath? Why free him?" he asks, perturbed.
"He's going to send me back to my world."
The Huntsman halts in his tracks, but I keep going, climbing the spiraling stone steps.
By the time I reach the top and step back into the queen's chambers, Wulf has caught up again. Whatever his thoughts on the matter, he says nothing as I hold the open book up for Eris to see.
I'm so filled with hope at this new possible way to get home that I beam at the gorgeous man in my mirror.
"Be a lamb and read this for me, please? Preferably the whole thing, unlike that cryptic little note from before," I add teasingly.
Eris looks like he wants to say no, but curses after a moment and squints at the paper.
"Let's see…something about Reinhilde's rendezvous with a married man in Aurefeld, something about having a milkmaid whipped for speaking in her presence—ah, here we go.
Three of my most delicious Favored went to attend the christening in Rosenwald.
One of them was Theo. I really liked that one, actually—he even said he loved me once.
His blood tasted like cranberries. I love cranberries, so it pissed me off when the Faerie of Wrath cursed Rosenwald to fall into a deep sleep for a hundred years again. "
"Wait…cursed to sleep for a hundred years?" I realize out loud, my brain catching up.
I recognize that story. Sleeping Beauty—or actually, it was called Little Brier-Rose in the book of fairy tales that I read almost every night for years, when I was a little kid.
As different and strange as this world may be from the tales I grew up on, it's obvious that at least parts of those storylines are very real here.
Meaning, Malivant is the same faerie who cursed Sleeping Beauty's kingdom.
"Indeed, Rosenwald has been asleep for nearly a century," Eris says matter-of-factly before reading on.
"I'm not surprised, since Wrath keeps doing this.
I don't know why he's the only faerie who doesn't know what's going on, but I'm tired of it just like I'm tired of everything.
I decided to punish him for ensnaring Theo and the other two.
It took some work, but I managed to trap him under one of his own shrines with a curse I made.
Of course, it will fade if it's kept anywhere outside of this room, so here it is for the next time that annoying faerie curses Rosenwald… "
Eris trails off, tipping his head. "Next time? And what does she mean, he keeps doing this? I don't remember Reinhilde ever having lovers who went to a christening in Rosenwald—not to mention it was cursed too long ago for anyone alive to have been in attendance."
Again, I'm guessing the evil queen was some kind of immortal vampire with a past he doesn't know about.
But the rest of Rhinestone's writing is gibberish to me, too.
"Is the curse written there?" I check.