Wish Bound (A Grimm Agency Novel Book 3) (24 page)

For a couple of minutes, I thought maybe I’d missed whatever it was. Then the sound of breaking glass caught my attention. Like a cat after a laser pointer, I darted through the crowds toward the sound. Only when I reached a street corner and heard yet another window break did I think to be more cautious.

Creeping now, walking softly through the quelled crowd, I saw movement ahead.

A woman.

An older woman. Quite a bit older. In fact, more than anything, she reminded me of Clara, Grimm’s oldest agent. Note I didn’t say oldest living agent, because, like most of Grimm’s employees, Clara died on the job. Whoever this was, for once, I was facing somebody my size, my build. I could only hope that if I lived to be as old as she appeared, my hair would turn that beautiful silver.

She walked through the center of the street, looking at the crowd, studying the frozen traffic. Then she walked over to a cab and put her hands on it. With a sound like pudding sucked through a straw, the quell retracted, leaving the cab the same dirty yellow as normal.

My jaw dropped.

Walking to the front of the cab, she began to push against it, rocking it back and forth. Then she stopped, turned around, and looked right at me. “Give me a hand with this.”

I admit to thinking about running. It’s the most sensible thing to do in so many situations. Might be dangerous? Run. Is dangerous? Run. Boring? Run. I wasn’t sure what this old woman was, but she canceled the quell with her bare hands. Running should have been my primary objective.

Except that I wasn’t concerned about much of anything anymore, least of all threats to my safety.

I slipped through the gaps in the crowd, and approached. The woman had hazel eyes and lips that looked like she wore only gloss. Her simple button-up shirt would have fit a grandmother or a businesswoman.

“Push at the front. We only need to move it a few centimeters.” She walked over and set her back against it.

I pulled from the other side, and slowly the cab tires slid a tiny distance.

“That’s enough.” She stood up, walked to the front of the cab, and looked down the road, to where an unfortunate jaywalker was about to receive a door prize, if the quell ever let up. “He’ll still get hit. Can’t fix that, since it was his decision to step out, but at least he doesn’t die now.” With a brush of her hand, the quell returned, wrapping over the cab, returning it to normal.

“I heard breaking glass.” It wasn’t much of a question. I couldn’t think of all the questions I really wanted to ask.

She pointed a few stories up. “I broke that window over there. See that crane? The cable’s rusted. I want people looking up, moving that direction for a better look, and out of harm’s way.” She pointed overhead, to a construction crane. Then she looked back at me. For a brief moment, the fear that kept me alive for years returned. A drive to run, to sprint back to the Agency, back to the lights and the harbingers and the fairy who’d lied to me all these years came back stronger.

“Stick around, Marissa. You have questions.” She pointed across the street to a bistro. “I have answers, and perhaps a few questions of my own.”

The fact that she knew my name didn’t faze me. The sheer number of things that greeted me by name without introduction had ceased to amaze me several years earlier. I might as well have had “Hello, my name is Marissa” monogrammed on every single outfit I own.

I followed her across the street. At her touch, the quell retracted, letting me move people from the chairs enough to sit down.

She walked through a half-open door, and a few minutes later, came back with coffee cups, steaming hot. “Sugar and cream, just like always.”

I wasn’t clear on whether I should say thank you or be creeped out. We sat in a pregnant silence that could have given birth to quintuplet conversations, without words. Then she put her cup down. “So, would you like me to tell you what you are?”

I thought of all the names that came to mind. “An aberration. A violation of natural law. One of Grimm’s freakish experiments.”

“I was going to suggest a beautiful woman.”

“I’m not.” Either of them.

She spit to the side and shook her head. “You sure look like it. Whatever you might have been, you’ve lived nearly thirty years in
this
world. In
that
body. By
their
rules. The process has changed you. And that is interesting, because it means that you might be able to do something about this mess.”

“Who are you?” I finally worked up the courage to ask the question. Most of the things interested in killing me never sat down to coffee first, but there had been a couple of exceptions.

“The final answer on everything. The reason why most things are.”

The Authority. The one the angels said I’d be better off not meeting. I tried to think back. What was proper etiquette for meeting someone like that? Bowing? Groveling? Sacrificing an accountant? I slammed the coffee cup down so hard it shattered. “This is your fault. You let this happen.”

“Not the tone I expected.” She reached over and collected the shards of my cup. “But yes, I let things happen. Of all the things I’m proudest of, it’s their free will. It’s precious. If they decide to do wonderful things with it, I accept that.” She began to fit the pieces back together, looking at the edges. “If they do horrible things, I have to accept that too. I can’t go changing people’s decisions, Marissa. Ever.”

“I’m not a person. You could have saved Liam.” Speaking his name brought tears to my eyes, made my throat close up.

“You are, in so many ways, just like every other person. You’ve lived in that body, as one of them, thought like one of them. Fought like one of them, and the process has changed you. What your Fairy Godfather did was dangerously close to infringing on my secrets. So I consider changing your choices much like changing theirs.” She handed me back the coffee cup, every crack perfectly repaired. “I sent Liam your way, you know.”

I turned it over in my hands, running my fingers along the smooth surface. “I don’t understand.”

“On the pier, five years ago.” She poured another cup of coffee from the pitcher.

“Why? Why would you do that to him?”

“
For
, not
to
. Oh, if you could have seen your Fairy Godfather’s face when he found out. You had your little game of hearts planned. Set the princess up with a prince. Make a little more Glitter. And then the wrong man just stumbles into your trap. I considered it a work of art.” She held up a sugar packet and cream cup.

“If I had never met him, he’d be alive.” The tears ran like streams now, but my anger fixed where it belonged. On myself.

“You don’t know that. You and your friend the queen stopped a war that would have killed thousands. How do you know Liam wouldn’t have died there? Together, you ended yet another apocalypse and taught that demon brat Malodin a lesson that is quite literally etched into his hide.”

I shook my head. “Liam would be alive.”

“You two loved each other. I knew what you were when I sent him your way. And yet I still sent him.” Her tone shifted, became cold and serious. “You are
of
this world, Marissa. So I believe that you can fix this situation. You still have the ability to make choices.”

Of course something like this was coming. No one acted friendly to me unless they wanted something. “What do you want?”

“I want you to restore their choices. I can’t change what Isolde has done because, like you, she is too much a part of this world. But you can. I want you to go to her demesne and end the quell. I want you to kill the Black Queen.”

The sheer ease with which she’d manipulated me made me sick. My anger. My tears. All of them setting me up to do something I wanted to do anyway. “I’m not a killer.”

“Until an hour ago, you didn’t know what you were. Still, there’s something in it for you.” She looked at me over the edge of her coffee cup.

“Bring him back.” My heart leaped, and my will clenched around me like ice.

“No. I set rules for the way things must be. The dead stay dead, Marissa. But if you do this, I’ll give you the one thing your Fairy Godfather never could. A soul.” She set down the cup and waited, watching me.

“Bring him back. I’ll kill her a dozen times if you bring him back. Grimm says souls are limited, but you bring him back, and you can keep it.” I tried to force confidence into my voice.

“I can’t break my own laws. And souls are precious, that’s true, but I created the first ones. That said, I keep a few. There are crimes for which you can lose your soul, Marissa. Crimes for which I would take it.”

My skin crawled at her words. “I don’t want anything but him. I don’t want some serial killer’s soul. I just want Liam back.”

“You say that like I’d give you the soul as is. A couple of times through the wash, and it would be perfectly new. If I told you the things that have happened between hotel sheets you’ve slept on, you’d be ill. You could have children—”

I stood up, cutting her off. “No deal. You bring him back, I’ll do it. Let me know if you change your mind.”

She nodded and rose as well, extending a hand I didn’t take. “My offer stands as well. I want you to think beyond yourself, of the people trapped here. Your pain and sorrow will have an end, but several billion lives can neither end nor continue.”

I left her there, carefully adjusting chairs.

•   •   •

THERE ARE NO
words to describe the alleys of sorrow or darkness I wandered. Lost in a maze of gray, without a way forward or backward, I walked beyond knowledge, finding tears at some turns, and anger at others.

The repetitive rhythm of footfalls gave me an outlet, allowed me to sail through grief, until I finally reached a decision. One that hurt to think of, felt like a new betrayal. And with a clarity of purpose, my feet led me back to the Agency, back up the stairs.

Death saw me come through the doors first, and nodded.

I strode down the hallway to Grimm’s office, nearly hitting the Fae Mother with the door when I barged in. Behind me, the soft patter of feet heralded Death joining us.

Grimm had the good sense to keep his mouth shut, until I’d taken a seat. Then I leaned forward, put my hands on his desk, and looked him in the eyes. “How can I kill the Black Queen?”

GRIMM CLEARED HIS
throat. I looked over my shoulder to see Eli and Nickolas had joined us. “My daughter has expended all of a fairy’s power quelling the world. She is weak. But as a half fairy, she has retreated to her demesne.”

Now I understood. Though Fairy Godmother’s power was gone, Isolde had her own demesne. Nothing could reach her there. Not another fairy, for sure, and probably nothing else.

“Marissa, with the permission of the other fairies, I have collected every bit of magic in existence. You will take it with you into her demesne. And there, you will wish her dead.” Grimm’s voice echoed in the silence.

“You can’t set magic against magic.” This sounded like a terrible idea.

Grimm shook his head. “Not true. With the amount of magic I will give you, you could wish me dead. You must enter her demesne, and there, wish. I will do the rest.”

“I can’t control magic.”

“No, but you can ask, and I can act in response. Consider this a more direct form of wish making.” Grimm put his hands behind his back. “This is
your
world, Marissa. I can act only in response to your decisions.”

“I’m not doing this because of you.” I watched Grimm until he acknowledged me with a nod, then I turned to Eli. “Or for your boss. I’m doing this because I want to. All of you, out.”

When they left, I closed the door.

Grimm waited with his eyes downcast. “Marissa—”

“Don’t. I’m nobody’s puppet. I’m not some perfect slave to do your bidding. I don’t know what I am.” I kept my back to him, leaning my head up against the door. “I decide what I do. I decide what I wish for.”

He walked around the desk, soft sounds of feet on carpet, then rested his hand on my shoulder. “Of course, my dear. Though I have told the others that you will wish the Black Queen dead, whatever your wish, I give you my word I will honor it.”

I looked over my shoulder at him. “Anything?”

“Of course. Once you are in her demesne, the magic will belong to you. Your wish will be my command.” He knew what I was thinking. And accepted it. “Anything. Now, I have a plan to get you to her. It requires a ritual—”

“No.” I closed my eyes. “I know you are there. Probably watching with a smug smile. I need help.” When I opened my eyes, the Authority sat at Grimm’s desk. The look of shock on his face brought the first smile to my face, and a tinge of guilt for it.

“Death told me he has ways of reaching all humans. Is Isolde human or not?”

The Authority nodded. Someone rapped at the door twice, and I opened it, knowing who would be on the other side.

Death slipped past me and bowed his head. “Yes, ma’am?”

She pointed to me. “Death, you will take Marissa—”

The grin on his face reminded me of a small child at Christmas. He turned toward me, a look of glee on his face.

“—to Isolde’s demesne,” the Authority said, a disapproving frown on her face. “Grimm, have a seat. It’s time you and I discussed the laws of magic and your attempts to circumvent them. Marissa, shut the door on your way out. This isn’t a conversation you would survive.”

I glanced to Grimm, and he nodded toward the door. I couldn’t help being worried for him. I walked out of the office, closing the door behind me, and Death followed me to the kitchen. He reached out and patted my hand. “There. That’s the soul of that miserable prince. You know, I didn’t think I’d ever get a chance to show you life beyond the veil.” Death opened the fridge and took out someone’s lunch.

“Lunch? Is it poisonous or something?” I recoiled, not wanting to touch the bag.

The look of exasperation on his face made me laugh. “I thought you might be hungry. I’m not allowed to take anyone but humans. So I didn’t think you and I would ever get to do this.”

A new thought grabbed me, one drenched with fear and driven by morbid curiosity. “What happens to me when I die?”

“I have no idea, but I promise I’ll stick around to find out. Could be that you float free, like a spirit. Or maybe you get absorbed back into Fairy Godfather. Can’t really say, never seen this before.” Death took a bag of chips out and tossed them to me.

“Where is Liam?” I spoke each word slowly, clearly.

“His body’s still nailed to the floor in the Court of Queens. His spirit is waiting to see what happens.” Death looked around, as if trying to spot something. “Love pins people here all the time. He just needs to see what happens to you, then he’ll move on. Though if I could get him to let go of that curse, he’d feel a lot better.”

Grimm told me curses dissolved when people died, unless you had the misfortune of getting ground up in a soul sieve. “It was supposed to die with him.”

Death began to gesture, almost talking with his hands. “Nah. Body’s wrapped around both of them, both of them leave the body. Normally, the curse would just dissipate. Instead, he’s holding on to that son of a bitch like it’s a life preserver. Really, it dies when he lets go.”

“Can I talk to Liam?” I couldn’t bring myself to look at him while I asked.

“No. I’m sorry, Marissa. I’d make an exception if I could, but it’s not up to me. Are you really going to wish the Black Queen dead?”

Something in his tone made me worried. “That’s the plan.”

“How well did killing her work last time? Look, it’s not my decision, but that woman’s got enough hate to last a thousand years or more. Seems like a shame for you go to all this trouble and fail.” Death stopped, and right when I thought he’d continue, someone knocked on the doorway.

Grimm stood there, his face pale and haggard, the edges of his suit frayed. “My dear, are you ready?”

I rose, and walked toward him. I couldn’t stop myself from giving him a hug. “So how do I carry all the magic in the world? You give me the world’s largest vial?”

Grimm shook his head. “I wouldn’t want it to be something that you could drop. Close your eyes.”

I did, feeling that gut-wrenching sensation that always came when he transported me. When I opened my eyes, I stood on the roof of our building. For the first time since the quell, wind stirred.

“Look.” He pointed into the distance, where something moved. A cloud, like a golden thunderstorm, boiled on the horizon. Then another, and another. In every direction, the sky went from gray to golden, and the wind whipped faster, harder.

Fear gripped me almost as strongly as his hands on my wrist, anchoring me against the hurricane as the sky turned bright golden, and waves of glitter washed down like a tornado, swirling around me, almost blowing me off the roof.

I closed my eyes and put my hands over my ears until the gale passed.

The sky once again hung suspended, gray, and motionless. The rooftop looked like the freak storm had never happened. Then I glanced down.

Golden cloth covered every inch of me, like a magnificent wedding dress of gold, including a train that would make walking near impossible. I twirled in it, watching the magnificent cloth shimmer and ripple.

“Does it come in black?” At my words, the color rippled and became black like an oil slick, rainbows reflecting out as I breathed. Then I grinned and formed a new thought, and it responded. The ridiculous train shriveled up and the dress pressed in, divided, leaving me in a button-down business suit.

“It comes in every form and possibility in the universe. It is pure possibility, absolute power.” Grimm adjusted my collar, then brushed my shoulders. “All the magic on earth looks good on you, Marissa. Have you given thought to what you will do with it?”

I knew.

“I’m going to wish her dead.” To say the words made me sick and thrilled at the same time.

“Is that truly your desire? I know what it is your heart cries for.” Grimm hung his head.

But what I wanted wouldn’t help Ari, Wyatt, not even Mikey. “I know.”

The roof-access door opened, and Death stepped out. “Marissa, are you ready?”

“I think so.”

“Then come back downstairs. I took a look around, and there’s a problem.” Death let the door shut, and I sighed. Why couldn’t anything be easy?

We met in our conference room, the oddest collection of people I’d had the opportunity to meet with there, and that was saying a bit. Death motioned for me to take a seat.

“She has guards. Lots of guards, at the edges of her demesne. I can get you to the entrance, but once you reach it, you are going to be in severe trouble. These things aren’t alive, so I can’t take them. They’re like her abominations, only worse. I think you’d call them lychron?”

At his words, Grimm winced, Eli cursed under his breath, and even the Adversary crossed his arms and spat, burning a hole in the carpet.

I had no idea what they were, having never made it past volume C of the Beast Lexicon, but anything that disturbed angels, fae, and the devil himself couldn’t be fun.

“Take a corpse. Give it life. Allow it to hunger for things so unnatural that even demons dislike them, and you have a lychron, Marissa.” Grimm put his hand on my shoulder, failing completely to comfort me.

I glanced over to Eli. “I know you only help people who help themselves, but I’m trying. How about some backup?”

Eli nodded, and sat back in his chair, thinking. From time to time, he’d whisper with Nick. Finally, he sat up. “You got it. I’ll send a guardian with you. Michelle?” He looked up, as a form of wondrous beauty appeared. Brilliant black hair, olive complexion, and a gigawatt smile.

“Meet the archangel, Michelle.” Eli nodded toward her.

“I thought Michael—”

“Really? Are they still misspelling my name?” Her voice sounded like crystal ringing. “Do they get anything right?”

Nick leaned forward. “There’s one minor problem. See, I wouldn’t be comfortable with one of them going along with you in this kind of situation. Too much opportunity to do something that would unbalance the game we play. So, if you want to take one of them, you need to take one of my boys.”

He waved his hand, and a gout of flame exploded from the floor beside him. Nick kneeled down and put his head into it, yelling. “Anyone want to go with Marissa to kill a bunch of lychron?” When he leaned back, hellfire ran down his neck, and tiny wisps of smoke came from his ears.

From the fountain, a shape emerged. Long, spidery limbs that ended in claws, a hunched body with a head that swiveled like a wasp. Malodin. Prince of Inferno, son of Satan himself, and the demon who almost managed to bring about the end of the world. I’d caught him on a technicality twice, and probably wouldn’t ever be so lucky again.

“Marissa.” He spoke my name like fingernails down a chalkboard. “Still trying to sell a soul you don’t have? And Michelle. Miss me already?”

“That will do, boy.” Nick snapped his fingers, and the flames evaporated. “You want to take her, you need to take him. Fair is fair.”

The looks of rage between the guardian and the demon scorched the air between them. “You have got to be kidding me. Those two are going to kill each other, and quite possibly me too.”

“Possible.” Eli raised his palms.

“Let me help you out.” Nickolas Scratch reached into a pocket and pulled out a jar of orange light. “This here is a part of the infernal flame. I know you’ve played with hellfire, girl, but this ain’t that. This here is what I use to
make
hellfire. Comes right out of my backside every day like Old Faithful. You could torch everything between here and her demesne with that.” He handed me the bottle of liquid fire.

As my hand brushed his, the glowing spot that had been two souls jumped to his. Nick held on to one of the orbs and squeezed. And I swear it screamed, a voice of pure pain that echoed in my brain. “A trade,” said Nick. “Fair and square.”

“Now, Marissa,” said Eli, “I would think more than once before you take that. You shake hands with the devil and you
will
get burned.” He leaned across the table and held out his hand. “You want me to dispose of that?”

I looked him in the eye. “What are you offering me?”

Eli fidgeted and popped his knuckles. “Well, I don’t exactly have anything to offer you, except that warning.”

“Thanks, you two.” I closed my hand around the bottle and slipped it into my jacket pocket.

“Your funeral,” said Eli, but he smiled at me.

“No. I’ve decided not to take angels or demons with me, but I need to talk with Death, alone.” I waited as one by one they filed out, and then looked Death in the eye. “Tell War I decided to accept his gift.”

“He always knew you would, once you finally figured out who you were.” Death gave me a grin I wanted to smack off his face.

“I’m not a killer.”

“You are planning to fight your way into the Black Queen’s demesne, then wish her dead. Marissa, denial does not go well with black.” Death adjusted his shirt buttons, obviously ashamed by my fine attire.

If my plan worked, I’d be gone before the others came back. “So how does this work?”

“Just like for real. You choose to come with me.” Death rose and walked to the conference room door.

I followed him, then froze as he swung the door open, and absolute black stared back at me. Not darkness as in a cave. Nor the empty vacuum of space, which is still somewhere. Nothingness so dark it made my outfit look white. To say I froze would be an understatement.

Death took my hand and pulled gently. “The first step is always the hardest.”

Liam. Maybe he was out there, somewhere, waiting for me. I walked into oblivion without fear.