Indexing: Reflections (Kindle Serials) (Indexing Series Book 2) (37 page)

“You probably didn’t want to do that,” he said, before grabbing her wrist and pulling her toward him. He bent at the same time, clearly intending to throw her. He had a lot of experience at throwing that body; we’d sparred together for years. He knew exactly how to take me down. By extension, he knew how to take
her
down.

I saw her smile and knew that he was making a mistake.

“Andy, no!” I shouted. It was too late. Adrianna was on top of him, and as he pulled her into the throw, she ran the fingers of her free hand down his cheek in what looked almost like a caress, except for the part where it left bloody scratches in its wake. Andy froze. Adrianna pulled her hand out of his grip, still smiling. And ponderously, slow as a tree toppling over in a forest, Andy fell.

The floor shook when he struck. Carlos and Demi were staring at her in open-mouthed shock. Demi hadn’t even raised her flute yet. Adrianna straightened, turning her bloody smile on the two of them.

“Now that it’s just us pretty lies standing here, why don’t we have a bit of fun?” she asked. “You run. I’ll chase you. And when I catch you, we’ll dance.”

“I have a better idea,” I said. “You give me back my fucking body, and I let you go back to the whiteout wood.”

“Because otherwise you’re going to what, keep me here? Kill me? If you kill me, you kill yourself—the self you’ve always been, anyway.” Adrianna turned to face me. “Bold move for someone who’s always tried so hard to follow the rules. But I suppose you’ve already started breaking them, haven’t you? I never took you for a thief, niece. That face you’re wearing, do you even know the name of the girl who owns it? Did you ask permission, or did you just take what you wanted, and damn the consequences? Maybe we’re closer than you think.”

“Or maybe I asked the wood to show me a body whose owner didn’t want it anymore,” I said. “Leave my team alone. Your fight isn’t with them.”

“My fight is with anyone who would slave the story when it deserves to run free.” Adrianna took a step toward me. “We could have kings and queens and quests. Castles and dragons and mermaid lagoons. But
you
people, you insist it’s too dangerous. That a few deaths justify locking us all into lives that aren’t worth living. Let people eat the apples that are thrown to them. They’ll treasure the time they have much more than they do the pale shadows you allow them to enjoy.”

“Oh, that’s your big problem with the way we do things? We don’t break shit often enough for you? Well, I’ve got news for you, Adrianna: You’ve been in the mirrors for too long. You’ve lost touch with your own story.” I leaned forward and smiled. The air around me chilled. “I just talked to our story. She chose me. She’s helping me. So no matter what the mirrors told you, looks like you’re old news.”

Adrianna couldn’t pale—my complexion didn’t allow it. Instead, her features contorted with rage, and she launched herself at me. I did the only sensible thing.

I turned and ran.

# # #

The castle belonged to Adrianna; she had created it out of whole cloth, weaving it according to her ideas of what a castle should be. Birdie had probably helped her. Adrianna had the raw power, but Birdie had the
experience
. She knew about stories and how they built their foundations. What neither of them had counted on was the fact that it wasn’t really Adrianna’s castle; it was
Snow White’s
castle, which meant it was mine. It wanted me to be happy. It wanted me to have whatever my heart desired—and what my heart desired was Sloane.

I ran, and doorways appeared before me. I flung myself through them and stairways blossomed out of walls, spiraling up, up, ever upward. My new body wasn’t used to this sort of exertion. My lungs burned and my legs ached, and all my flesh wanted to do was lay down and sleep. Comas are a hard habit to break. I kept going. I needed to find Sloane and lead Adrianna away from the rest of my team. That was all that mattered. After that it was all sort of fuzzy and hard to focus on.

A door appeared in the wall. I grabbed the doorknob, twisting as I slammed my shoulder into the wood, and bounced off when it refused to yield. Something else was holding this door closed against me. I backed off a step, rubbing my bruised shoulder and glaring.

“Open,” I commanded.

The door didn’t open.

Adrianna was close enough behind me that I didn’t really have time to waste arguing with the inanimate. I only hesitated for a second before retreating to the shadows formed where the stairwell emptied out into the hall. It was a little bit of architectural frippery, more for effect than practicality, and it concealed me nicely. I put a hand over my mouth to block the sound of my labored breathing, and I waited.

I didn’t have to wait long. Adrianna thundered into view, pure rage on her stolen face, and hammered on the door. It opened a few seconds later, revealing the familiar face of everybody’s favorite traitor, Birdie Hubbard.

“Where is she?” demanded Adrianna.

Birdie frowned. “She’s sleeping. I told you that might be the only option. She’ll dream as I tell her, and when we drag some fool in here and drug him into thinking she’s his one true love, she’ll wake malleable and ready to be of service.”

“Not her, the other one,” said Adrianna. She gestured wildly to her—to
my
—face. “This one! She’s here, and I know she’d go straight for her missing piece. Where is she?”

Birdie’s eyes widened in evident alarm. “Henry? She’s here? In the castle? How could you let that happen? You promised we’d be safe here. My work—”

“Isn’t going to matter if she kills us both,” snapped Adrianna. “Did you let
anyone
in? A mouse, a bird, a clever little squirrel? Think, woman!”

“I let
you
in.” Birdie’s expression smoothed out, becoming neutral. “Where have you been all day, Adrianna? Is that your name right now? Or did Henry take her body back?”

“It doesn’t work that way for us,” said Adrianna. “Don’t be stupid as well as useless, or I might start thinking I don’t need you.” She turned then, and stalked off down the hall, presumably to keep looking for me. Birdie stayed in the doorway, watching her go.

That was my opening. As soon as Adrianna turned the corner I rushed forward, slamming my shoulder into Birdie’s chest and driving her backward. My lower center of gravity actually came in handy; in my own body, I would’ve had trouble running while bent that far forward. As it was, the run came easily, even naturally, and Birdie went sprawling. I slammed the door, taking my eyes off her long enough to lock it. I didn’t need to have worried. She was still on the floor when I turned around, crawling backward away from me as fast as she could.

“You can’t be here!” she said.

“Oh, so you recognize me, do you?” The room was a weird jumble of princess iconography, from the spinning wheel to the pile of mattresses in one corner. A fire burned in the fireplace, making everything too hot. The cold around me was fighting back, intensifying until I left frozen footprints on the floor. “Too bad you decided to leave the Bureau. You could have saved me a lot of trouble. Now where is Sloane?”

“Adrianna! Help! She’s here! She’s—” My hand across her mouth cut her off. I crouched with one knee on Birdie’s chest, ignoring her wide, pleading eyes.

“I’ve figured a few things out. You’re a Storyteller. You can twist the narrative. That’s a big power to have. Too bad it only works if you can talk.” I shifted more of my weight onto my knee. She whimpered. “Now where. Is. Sloane?”

Birdie pointed to the stack of mattresses.

“Thank you.” There’s an art to knocking someone out without killing them. It’s never as easy as the movies make it out to be. But there were other ways. “You said you’d help me, so help me,” I said, and used my free hand to pinch Birdie’s nostrils shut. She looked at me like I had lost my mind—until the smell of apples filled the air, and her eyes closed.

“Great. I’m chloroform now.” I pushed myself off of her. That was a trick that wouldn’t work in a world that was more set in its ways: I knew that, and I didn’t care. As long as it worked here, that was all that mattered.

There were fifteen mattresses in the stack. I climbed them as fast as I could, almost falling several times. When I got to the top, there she was: Sloane Winters, asleep, in a gown that had been fit for a princess once, before it was shredded and burnt to the point of becoming rags. There were bruises and cuts on her exposed skin. I had no doubt that there was worse concealed under her clothing. Her eyes were closed. She had slept through my entire fight with Birdie. She’d sleep forever unless someone woke her.

“Dammit, Sloane,” I whispered. She was my friend. She was my colleague. She was my brother’s ex-girlfriend and the pain in my ass, and she was probably going to kill us all one day, and none of that mattered, because she was
Sloane.
I loved her because she was Sloane.

I loved her. Maybe that would be enough. Gingerly, I leaned forward, and I kissed her.

Her eyes snapped open. I pulled back, fast enough to get out of her way as she sat up, grabbed the front of my shirt, and demanded, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Henry,” I said. “It’s a long story. Do you want to hear it, or do you want to help me kick Adrianna’s ass?”

She paused. Then, slowly, she nodded. “You’re going to tell me
everything
, snow-bitch. Including the reason I taste apples right now. All right?”

“All right,” I said. “Can you walk?”

Sloane snorted. “Can you keep up?”

# # #

It turned out I could, although it wasn’t easy; her legs were so much longer than mine that I felt like I was sprinting as she led me through the castle, her unerring nose for the story leading us to a ballroom swathed in cobwebs and dust. Adrianna was there, pacing back and forth at the far end of the room. She stopped when she saw us.

“You,” she snarled. “You’ve ruined
everything
. Do you understand what you’ve done?”

“My job.” I didn’t have a gun.
She
had my gun—something I was reminded of when she pulled it from her belt and fired in my direction.

She also didn’t have any firearms training. The shot went wild. Sloane and I didn’t hesitate. We both broke into a run, rushing for her as fast as we could. It was the only hope we had left.

Sloane reached her first, and Sloane’s fist reached her face a heartbeat later, impacting with a wet
crunch
. The gun went flying. I grabbed it, aiming straight for Adrianna’s chest. Sloane took a step back, giving me a clear shot.

“Stand
down
!” I snarled.

Adrianna smiled. “Shoot me,” she countered. “Can you? Can you kill yourself, just to stop me? I hope you can, niece. I’ve already done more damage than you can know. I want you to remember it every time you look in a mirror. I want you—”

She stopped mid-sentence, looking suddenly confused. Then she folded forward, hitting the floor with all the grace of a sack of wet concrete. Sloane smiled, holding up a long brass needle.

“Spindles come apart,” she said.

I blinked. Then I held out my hand. “Good,” I said. “Put me under.”

“What?”

“Put me under. I need to stop this. Besides.” I smiled, lopsidedly. “This time, I’m pretty sure Jeff can wake me up. Now put me un—”

Her hand lashed out, embedding the needle in my arm.

“—der,” I finished.

I didn’t feel myself fall down.

# # #

The whiteout wood was exactly as it had always been, black and white and red: only I was different. I felt like a resident, not a visitor. This was my home now.

“You,” snarled a voice. I turned. There was Adrianna, wearing her own face, standing some feet behind me. The snow under her feet was already melting, revealing black, blasted ground. “You little bitch. You ruined everything.”

“No, Aunt Adrianna,” I said. “You did. You tried to make me your mirror. You came too close. I’m sorry.”

“You will be,” she said, and took a step toward me—or tried to. The ground gripped her feet fast, holding her in place. She looked down, suddenly alarmed. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know how you stayed out of the mirrors for as long as you did, but that’s over now,” I said. “The story chose me. When something’s a reflection, something else is real. I guess you’re not the real one anymore.”

She was still screaming when the mirrored hands reached up from beneath her and pulled her down.

I sat down in the snow. Then I stretched out, full-length, getting myself comfortable, and crossed my hands over my chest in the classic pose. They’d wake me up soon enough. I believed in them.

They were my family, after all.

# # #

Jeff was still leaning over me when I opened my eyes. He looked concerned, like he’d been afraid his kiss wouldn’t work this time either. I blinked. His look of concern deepened.

“Henry?” he asked.

“Oh thank Grimm I’m me again,” I said, and sat up, looking down at my body—
my
body—before turning to him. “You woke me up.”

“Yes,” he said, tears of relief beginning to form.

I grabbed him, pulled him close, and kissed him hard before I asked, “Where is everyone else?”

“Demi went back up the beanstalk to get Ciara and Piotr, while Carlos and Sloane kept watch over the rest of you. Together they got you, Andy, and the others out of Adrianna’s fold before it collapsed. Demi and Ciara removed the mirror from Carlos’s eyes while the rest of you were removed to the hospital,” said Jeff. “Sloane is recovering. Your temporary host is still in her coma. Carlos said to thank you for removing him from the field; he’s returned to HR. Piotr said fuck you very much for taking one of his best agents away, although the fact that he got to take custody of Birdie made up for some of it. She still hasn’t woken up, by the way. Ciara is requesting a permanent reassignment to our team, under you. I—why are you smiling?”

“Because I’m home with the people who love me, and that’s what matters,” I said. I’d have to tell Sloane what happened, and we’d have a lot to talk about once she knew I’d kissed her awake. I wasn’t going to recover instantly from having my body stolen. Jeff was probably going to have his own issues with it. And there was the matter of what I might owe to my story . . .