Banished: Book 1 of The Grimm Laws (11 page)

He closed his eyes and allowed his mind to drift. He thought about that ridiculous truffle she’d given him—a symbol of their new
friendship
. The last thing he wanted was to be Elle’s friend. It was all or nothing.

When he finally drifted off to sleep, he was riding his bike over long ribbons of chocolate, white on the top and dark underneath. He looked ahead, but the ribbon continued on and on to a place in the distance he could no longer see.

“
M
other
, if thou wouldst give her a chance, then thou wouldst see in her the greatness that I see.”

Wisteria let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh, Rushton, my dear, naïve boy. Thou canst possibly see her for what she is because thou art blinded by her beauty. Beauty flowers for a moment and then fades as surely as the fall gives way to winter, and thou wilt be left with nothing but rot and decay.”

“Nay, you’re wrong!” he countered, his face growing flush. “You don’t know her like I do. She’s generous and kind and—”

“Penniless!” she inserted, holding up a finger. “Let’s not forget that.” Wisteria stood on her toes and strained to reach a bottle on the top shelf. It contained a glob of something green and slimy. When she opened the lid, the stench of rancid meat invaded the air.

Rushton gagged. “What is that?” he said, averting his nose.

“A combination of cow dung, snake venom, and beet root.” She scooped out a portion of the putrid substance and dropped it into a cauldron of boiling water.

“It smells awful!”

She sniffed. “Really, I hadn’t noticed.” Then she laughed and poured a bottle of black, thick liquid into the cauldron.

He scowled. “Thou toyst with me, Mother.”

Her violet eyes grew serious. “Nay, I speak the truth, my son. Nothing good will come of thy infatuation with Cinderella. A fortnight ago, I saw two ravens lighting on the stable roof, an omen of death.”

He raked a hand through his hair. “Oh, stop it!” His mother was always trying to use her potions and superstitions as a means of keeping him under control.

“I saw it,” she said, her voice ringing with conviction. She leaned over the cauldron and inhaled the green steam that was lifting up.

Without warning, a chill ran down his spine, and a clutch of apprehension wrangled his gut. He sat down in the chair and held out his hands to the fire in an attempt to ward off the chill that was permeating his body. He willed himself to work through the fear. He was firm in his resolve to stand by Cinderella, and he wouldn’t let his mother change his mind, no matter how persuasive she was.

She came up behind him and put her hands on his shoulders. “You feel it too, I can see it on thy countenance. Cinderella is an opportunist. She’s using thee to get to the castle. A rare beauty like hers won’t go unnoticed. She’ll attract the attention of someone else—someone whose rank and authority exceeds yours. In the end, she’ll leave thee heartbroken and alone.”

“Since when is it a crime to be beautiful, Mother? Or are you speaking from experience? Few are as beautiful as thee.”

Her eyes sparked. “Beauty is not a crime, Rushton—until it becomes a weapon, used to seduce an impulsive squire in order to elevate one’s station.”

“It’s not like that, Mother.” He scowled. What did she know of the love he felt for Cinderella? He hated the doubt that was seeping through his toes and rising up higher and higher until he was swimming in it. The black thoughts swirled in his mind, growing more terrible by the moment. He saw a vision of Cinderella—pointing and mocking him. He put his hands to his head and jerked out of her grasp. “Nay! Thou art doing this!” He pointed. “What’s in the cauldron—an anxiety potion?”

She shot him a look of disgust. “Dost thou actually believe I would stoop to using magic against my own son?”

Magic was outlawed by order of the King, but anyone who knew his mother also knew that she did exactly what she pleased, when she pleased. He turned and faced her. The hurt simmering in her eyes sent a stab of guilt shooting straight through him. His first instinct was to say something soothing in order to placate her, but the time for subterfuge was over. “I’m not sure what to think anymore,” he admitted. The silence swirled between them, causing the words to grow large and terrible. There. He’d said it out loud. The truth was that he didn’t know what to think about his mother. She used magic on a daily basis, so it was very possible—probable that she was using it on him. Her power was both revered and feared throughout the kingdom. That much he knew. And she had some hold over the King. Something significant had happened between them—something she never spoke of, but it forever cloaked their world like a sinister shadow, threatening to block out the sun and leave them floundering in darkness.

She wiped her hands on her apron, her shoulders sagging in defeat. She turned back to the cauldron. The lines around her mouth deepened, and he saw it then—something she tried hard to keep hidden. Her frailty. He realized with a start that she was getting older. Her life had been fraught with hardship and sorrow, and she’d lost much. He’d not meant to hurt her, but he wasn’t going to let her fears hinder his happiness. “You love her too much,” Wisteria continued. “Love is a dangerous thing. It will consume thee and eat away at the foundation of thy soul, and I’ll not allow that to happen to my son,” she finished, her chin jutting out.

Defiance burned in her eyes, and he knew she meant every word she said. Suddenly the muddy lake became clear, and he caught an inkling of the hurt that had been plaguing his mother. “Like it has to thee?” He spoke the words softly.

She turned and lifted an eyebrow.

He gave her a sad smile. “I can see the hurt that ye try so hard to keep hidden. It permeates everything around us. I used to think that hurt was owed to the death of my father, but that’s not it at all.” He looked her in the eye. “Is it?”

A shadow of fear crossed her features, but then quickly disappeared into her carefully constructed mask. “I don’t know what you mean.” She turned her attention to the potion.

He arose from the chair and came up behind her. “Mother, what happened between thee and the King?”

She went still.

“Mother,” he implored. “Look at me.”

When she turned, he was surprised to see a single tear rolling down her cheek. “The past is better left alone,” she said, her voice hoarse with emotion.

“But that’s just it, it’s not in the past. It’s affecting everything we do! I see the way you look at him, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you!” She closed her eyes and shook her head. He took her by the arms. “What happened between the two of you?”

When she opened her eyes, the fragile woman had been replaced by the powerful wizard he knew so well. “Aalexander is a dangerous man!” she said vehemently. “Thou must never speak those words ever again. Dost thou understand?” The fire in her eyes demanded his submission, and even he, her son, wasn’t strong enough to go up against her. “Dost thou understand?” she breathed through gritted teeth.

He nodded.

That seemed to satisfy her. “Good, then we’ll have no more talk of this Cinderella.”

“But I love her!” The words exploded out of him. “If you don’t help her get to the castle, then I’ll find another way. There’s nothing you can say or do that will change my mind.” He glared at her, daring her to disagree.

She gave him a long, searching look, and he could see conflicting emotions churning in her. “Dost thou really love her that much?”

He nodded.

“And she loves you?”

“Absolutely,” he said, looking her in the eye so that there would be no question about his conviction.

She let out a breath. “Very well, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you!” His voice rang with pure, undiluted joy. “Oh, thank you, Mother!” He reached and caught her in a tight embrace.

“I make no promises, Rushton. I only said I would try.”

“Yes, of course. I understand.” He gave her a broad smile.

She held up a finger. “There’s just one more thing.”

The muscles around his jaw grew taut. “Yes?”

“If Cinderella does come to the castle, then it’s all on you. I wash my hands of the whole affair from this point on. Whatever happens from this time henceforth is on thy head.”

“Yes, Mother,” he said hurriedly. “Whatever you say.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I must be going.”

“Going? Where?”

“I’ve got to tell Cinderella the good news. I’ll be home after dark. Don’t wait up,” he called as he darted out the door.

Wisteria watched him go and then turned to the cauldron. The boiling liquid matched her tumultuous thoughts. If only Rushton would listen to her. If things kept following their current path, then Cinderella would be Rushton’s undoing, just as surely as Aalexander had been hers. She was not about to hand her son over to that peasant girl without a fight. A calm, steady knowledge flowed into her veins, as the beginnings of a plan began to take shape. She would expose Cinderella for the parasite she was. It would be painful for Rushton in the beginning, but a necessary step if she were going to save him. She clenched her fists. And save him she must … even if that meant saving him from himself.

E
dward was already
at the locker by the time Elle got there. She straightened her shoulders and readied herself for the encounter. When she stepped up beside him he gave her a curt nod. “Hey,” he said, his tone aloof.

“Hey,” she said back, trying to sound as disinterested as he.

She watched as he reached for his English book. She was about to grab hers, but he surprised her by handing it to her. “Thanks,” she mumbled. Miracles never ceased. Was he actually being nice to her? They were both headed to English, and it would be awkward for them to walk together, since Edward was making it obvious that he had no desire to patch things up or even talk to her. She turned to go so that she could get a head start.

“Elle.”

She stopped and slowly turned back around to face him. “Yes?”

He gave her an appraising look. “You look good.”

A jolt of warmth shot through her. “Thanks.”

“We need to talk.”

She lifted an eyebrow. Really? A strange turn of events considering that he was doing his best to try and avoid her. “Okay … when?”

“I’ll come over tonight after football practice is over. Around eight?”

She thought for a minute. She had to start work today at The Chocolate Fountain, but she would most likely be home by then … she hoped. “Eight thirty?”

He flashed an amused smile as if he thought she was pushing back the time and playing hard-to-get.

“Okay, then. Eight thirty. It’s a date.” He gave her a long look, his hazel eyes searching hers. Something about his expression evoked a long-forgotten ache. For some unknown reason, she felt a mixture of compassion and guilt. She nearly laughed out loud at the thought. She had nothing to feel guilty about! She gave him a questioning look.

“What?” she said softly.

He shook his head. “Tonight.”

“Okay.” She thought he might walk her to class, but he kept standing there at the locker, so she finally turned and started walking alone, trying to figure out what it was that Edward Kingsley wanted from her.

W
hen Elle stepped
into the classroom, she zeroed in on Rush first thing. The pull to him was so strong that it was as if he were the only other person in the room. Whatever this was between them—it was getting ridiculous! Avoiding eye contact, she walked down the aisle and took her assigned seat, directly in front of him. She was keenly aware that he was sitting there, right behind her. It was silly to ignore him, considering that they’d shared a moment together on the roof, but she didn’t feel like she could just turn around and start talking to him. Plus, Edward was sitting on the other side of the room. Not that she owed anything to Edward, but still … She didn’t want the whole school thinking that she and Rush were a couple. Edward acted as if he wanted to patch things up, but that would change the minute he saw her talking to Rush. Did she want to patch things up with Edward? At this point, she wasn’t sure. And what in the heck was going on between her and Rush? Should she turn around or keep looking straight ahead?

Five minutes passed, with her agonizing all the while about what to do. Miss Caskill hadn’t come into the classroom. Another three minutes went by. Still no sign of Miss Caskill. Finally, she couldn’t take it any longer. She turned around. “Hey,” she said casually.

He looked surprised. “Hey.”

She wasn’t sure what else to say. Especially considering she couldn’t say the one thing that was running through her mind—
gee, you really are devastatingly handsome, and I especially love the way that wisp of hair falls over your brow.
I’m pretty sure I had a steamy dream about you, but for the life of me, I can’t remember what it was about—only that I woke up this morning with you on the brain, and I’ve been able to think of nothing else ever since.
Nope, she certainly couldn’t say that! Conversation had been so easy on the roof, but here in the classroom it was entirely different. “How are things going?” Geez! That came out sounding stupid. Her voice sounded unnaturally high in her own ears, and she could only imagine how it sounded to Rush.

“Fine.” A trace of amusement flickered in his eyes.

Irritation clouded her. He was taking great pleasure in her discomfort, and judging by his one-liners, he wasn’t going to contribute a thing to the conversation. “All ridy then,” she quipped, turning back around, her face burning.

A shiver trickled down her spine when he leaned up and whispered in her ear. “So I take it we’re talking to each other in public now? I guess those truffles were more powerful than I thought.”

Her eyes went wide, and she jerked around, ready to give him a piece of her mind, but his attention was elsewhere. He was looking straight ahead, a taut expression on his face, and then she heard the murmurs of excitement rippling through the classroom. She turned back around to see what all the commotion was about.

It was not Miss Caskill but another teacher that had entered the classroom. To say this woman was attractive would’ve been a gross understatement. With her thick, wavy hair and perfect figure, she could’ve given Angelina Jolie a run for her money. She wrote her name on the board:
Ms. Wisteria Porter
. There was something familiar about the confident, almost haughty carriage of her shoulders and the defiant way her chin jutted out.
What was it about her that was so familiar?
It went through her mind that
Porter
was Rush’s last name, but
Porter
was a common name, so she didn’t think much about it.

A low whistle came from the desk to her immediate left. “What a looker! I wouldn’t mind slipping her some tongue, if you know what I mean,” the guy whispered. It was the same guy that had congratulated Rush for kissing her on the field. She shook her head in disgust.
What a moron!
Guys like that talked big but didn’t know the first thing about women. What she didn’t expect to hear was Rush swearing under his breath.

“Shut your mouth,” he uttered, “or I’ll shut it for you.”

Out of her peripheral vision, Elle saw the moron’s eyes widen before he clamped his lips shut. Then it all came together in one swift motion as the teacher introduced herself. Rush had told her that his mother was an English teacher. What he neglected to tell her was that his mother was about to become
their
English teacher.

“I’m Wisteria Porter,” she said, pointing to the board, “the newest teacher at Castle High. I’ll be taking Miss Caskill’s place.”

“What happened to Miss. Caskill?” This came from Lynessa. Elle had to bite back a smile when she saw the scornful look Lynessa was giving Ms. Porter. Lynessa couldn’t stand the thoughts of another woman, young or old, looking better than she.

“Miss Caskill transferred to another school. Some sort of a promotion, I’m told.” The answer was to the point, leaving no room for further questions. Besides, it wasn’t as if anyone was particularly fond of the old battle-ax. Elle, for one, was glad to see her go.

Ms. Porter scoped the room, sizing up the students, until her eyes rested on Elle, and she could sense the disapproval emanating from those fierce eyes. It unnerved her to know that another person detested her, for no seemingly good reason. “I look forward to getting to know all of you. You will start out on equal footing. I will give you every opportunity to excel … unless you prove otherwise.”

Elle looked away from Ms. Porter’s intense gaze. She’d never done anything to this woman. Then why did she get the feeling that she already had a mark against her? As soon as she thought the question, the answer came.
Rush.
Ms. Porter disliked her because of Rush.

“It’s especially a privilege to have my son in the class.” Ms. Porter motioned. “Rush.” All eyes turned to Rush, and the moron in the adjacent desk groaned.

“Sorry, dude, I didn’t mean to insult your mom,” he whispered.

“Nothing like having your mother for a teacher,” Rush said. “She keeps me on a tight leash, especially when it comes to homework.”

This brought chortles of laughter from around the room.

Rush had spoken the words easily enough, but Elle could hear the strain in his voice. She realized then that it was uncomfortable for him to have his mother as a teacher. Fleetingly, she wondered when it was that she’d become connected with him enough to detect his emotions, solely by the sound of his voice.

Ms. Porter walked around the front of the desk and leaned against it. “We’ll be studying a series of plays, beginning with Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet.”

Elle was guessing that the male students in the class, with the exception of Rush, were hardly listening to a word she was saying and were more concerned with watching how the pencil skirt kept lifting up ever so slightly above her knees, revealing a set of shapely legs.

“Romeo and Juliet were two star-crossed lovers that defied their families, the Capulets and Montagues, in their efforts to be together despite all obstacles. As we study this play, there are several questions that I want you to think about. The first of which is this: Romeo and Juliet fall madly in love at first sight. Is that realistic?” She looked around the room, expectantly waiting for an answer. When none came, she picked up a clipboard. “Let’s see,” she said, trailing her finger down the roll. “Blake Owens, do you believe in love at first sight?”

A rumble came from the back section where Edward was sitting. A few chuckles sounded. Elle looked over to see the heavyset guy sitting directly in front of Edward. He seemed to be ducking underneath the question.

Ms. Porter looked straight at him, while waiting for an answer, her intense gaze reminding Elle of laser-beams.

“I suppose I believe in love at first sight … if she’s good-looking,” he sniggered. The guy sitting across from him gave him a high five.

A mousy-looking girl with glasses, sitting on the front row, raised her hand. “I think that love at first sight is a bunch of drivel. Love should be based on similar interest and likes. Compatibility plays a large factor in human relationships. Statistics show that couples who have more in common have happier and healthier relationships.”

Ms. Porter pressed her lips together thoughtfully. “Interesting concept.” She cocked her head. “Your name?”

“Monica Morton,” the girl said.

“Thank you, Monica. I’m not sure if Shakespeare would agree with you, but a valid point nonetheless. Here’s another question for the girls in the room. If you were Juliet, would you possess the strength to go against your family to be with the one you love? Would you defy convention, or would you crumble under the pressure?” She looked around the room, her eyes once again settling on Elle.

Elle’s heart began to pound. This wasn’t a question about Romeo and Juliet, this was a direct question about her and Rush. She looked down at her desk.

“Would anyone like to answer that question,” Ms. Porter said, “or shall I call on someone?”

Someone answer the stupid question. Otherwise she’s going to call on me!
Elle kept pleading silently for someone … anyone to come to her aid.

“I’ll answer it,” Lynessa said. “True love defies all boundaries. If you truly love someone then it shouldn’t matter what your family thinks. If you’re not brave enough to embrace true love when it comes, then you don’t deserve it to begin with.”

Ms. Porter nodded. “Well said, Miss …”

“Lynessa.”

“Well said, Lynessa.” She flashed an approving smile. “Okay, all of you gentlemen in the classroom, I’d pay attention to this girl, if I were you. She knows what she wants and is not afraid to go after it.”

Lynessa beamed. Elle’s mouth twisted. From what she knew of Lynessa, the girl had never stood up for anything a day in her life. She was simply kissing up to the teacher.

“Elle, you don’t agree?”

It took her a minute to realize that Ms. Porter was talking to her. “I’m sorry,” she stumbled, “I didn’t hear the question.”

Ms. Porter’s eyes met hers. “You had a doubtful expression on your face when Lynessa was talking. I’m thinking, perhaps, that you don’t agree with what she said?”

All eyes turned to Elle. Lynessa was glaring daggers at her.

At that moment, she hated Ms. Porter. She hated her for putting her on the spot and making her feel like a dip wad. “No,” she croaked. “I don’t disagree with what Lynessa was saying …”

“But?” Ms. Porter prompted.

She met Lynessa’s glare full on. “I’m sure at this moment, in this classroom, Lynessa truly believes that she would brave true love at all costs, but that’s easier said than done.”

Lynessa scoffed. “That’s ridiculous,” she pouted, flipping her hair.

Ms. Porter arched an eyebrow. “Are you speaking from experience?”

She knew that both Edward and Rush were waiting to hear how she would answer. She swallowed hard, trying to figure out a way to finagle out of this land mine without getting her head blown off. “I’m just saying that none of us knows for sure how we’ll react in a given situation, until we’re actually put into it.”

“Interesting,” Ms. Porter said. “Very interesting.” She turned her attention to the chalkboard. “I’m going to write down a series of questions, which you will need to answer before the next class.”

Everyone started opening notebooks.

Interesting?
What did that mean? Elle got the feeling that she’d been given some impromptu test—a test that she failed miserably! No matter what she did, she was always coming up short. She didn’t dare look at Edward or Rush, but kept her eyes glued to her notebook for the remainder of the class.