Love Spell: Book 2 of The Grimm Laws Read online

  Adele was sitting in the chair beside her, studying her intently. “What do you remember?”

  Elle searched her brain. “Not a lot.” Then it all came tumbling back. “I came here to ask you about the girl in the mirror and the key.”

  “Do you remember anything else?”

  A dull headache was forming across the bridge of her nose, and she pinched it in the hope of making it stop. There was something she was supposed to remember, she was sure of it. She glanced at the silver tray on the ottoman, which was now empty. When she’d followed Adele up to the study, she’d brought up two truffles. Had she eaten them? It’s strange that she couldn’t remember.

  “Do you remember what I said about the key?”

  “Um …” Elle pushed back her hair. “Yeah … something about not telling anyone.”

  “When you find the key, you bring it here … pronto! Do you understand?”

  “Okay,” Elle said automatically. What did it matter what she agreed to anyway? The entire thing was crazy. She’d come here, searching for answers, and it was clear that she’d not gotten a single one. This was probably some elaborate hoax. There had to be a logical explanation for the mirror and the key. There simply had to be!

  “Knock knock.”

  Adele looked in the direction of the door and smiled. “Jack, come in.”

  He stepped in and glanced at Elle before brushing back the mop of hair on his head. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m here a little early.”

  “Elle and I were just finishing up.” She patted Elle’s hand. “Weren’t we, dear?”

  “Yes.”

  Adele stood. “You’re always welcome here,” she said warmly.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around. “Wow! Cool place.” He pointed to the wood model on the small table. “Can I have a look?”

  “Sure.”

  He stepped up to it. “What is this of?”

  Adele stood beside him. “You don’t recognize it?”

  He made a face. “Well, it’s certainly an elaborate gingerbread house, and then there’s the young boy and girl.” He stroked his chin. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say …”

  “Yes?” she prompted.

  “Hansel and Gretel?”

  She clapped her hands. “Precisely. Very good.”

  He nodded. “You like fairy tales.”

  Rae stepped into the room. “Hey, I was on my way up to the attic when I heard you guys talking.”

  Elle stood.

  Jack had moved over to the bookshelves and was studying the titles. “Adele, you must really love fairy tales.”

  She chuckled. “I suppose it reminds me of home.”

  Rae cocked her head. “Home … huh. Where are you from?”

  Adele gave her an enigmatic smile. “From somewhere far, far away.”

  “Okay,” Rae said slowly, shooting Elle a look that said, Your aunt is loony.

  Elle could’ve told her that. She had the feeling that there was something she was supposed to remember—something important. Something about the truffles.

  Rae gave Jack a speculative look. “Well, Jack, it seems that someone else shares your love.”

  Jack blushed and ducked his head slightly.

  “His love?” Elle scrunched her nose.

  Rae flashed a smile, her jade eyes sparking with mischief. “Yes, Jack is quite the artist, and he is consumed with drawing these crazy pictures of castles, beanstalks, and a giant.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Oh, and my favorite is the one of Rapunzel with her long red hair trailing down the tower.”

  “But I thought Rapunzel had blonde hair,” Elle said.

  “Not this one.” Rae flashed him a teasing smile. “Jack’s Rapunzel has flaming red hair.”

  “Like yours,” Adele said, giving Jack an admiring look.

  Elle never could figure out her aunt. Of all the things to be impressed with, why that?

  Rae’s face turned as red as her hair, and it was obvious from her befuddled expression that it had not even entered her mind that Jack might’ve been drawing her.

  Elle bit back a smile. It was fun to watch the witty exchanges that went back and forth between Rae and Jack. There was obviously a spark between them, but they hadn’t brought it out in the open yet. Maybe they weren’t even aware of it themselves.

  “I was not drawing Rae! Geez!” There was a mortified expression on Jack’s face. Rae also looked uncomfortable.

  “How long have you been drawing these pictures?” Adele wanted to know.

  “I dunno. A few days ago, I woke up with them on my mind, and I couldn’t rest until I put them to paper.”

  “Interesting,” Adele mused. “Very good.”

  Jack made a face. “Huh?”

  Adele looked thoughtful. “Jack, you should keep drawing those pictures. It might help you to remember.”

  He shot Rae a questioning look to which she shrugged. “Remember what?”

  Elle tried to make eye contact with him to remind him that her aunt was crazy, but she couldn’t get his attention. Adele looked at Elle and chuckled. Heat crept up Elle’s neck. She’d forgotten that her aunt could read her thoughts. Oops.

  Adele gave Jack a patient smile. “Don’t worry, dear. It’ll come back to you.”

  “But I’m drawing pictures of fairy tales.” He pointed to the model of Hansel and Gretel. “Fairy tales?” He scrunched his nose. “They’re not real.”

  Adele sighed. “So you say … so you say. Youth,” she muttered, “so impetuous.”

  Rae looked at Elle who gave her a sympathetic smile. If they didn’t all realize by now that Adele was bonkers, they’d realize it soon enough.

  Rae got down to business. “Okay, we’ve got to practice.”

  “Where’s Rush?” Elle didn’t want to appear overly concerned about Rush, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself from asking about him. She still wasn’t sure how she was going to act around him. A part of her was super embarrassed that she’d confessed her feelings, and the other part was steaming mad at him.

  A devilish smile flittered over Jack’s lips. “Oh, he’ll be here soon. He had some things to wrap up first.”

  A stab of jealousy went through Elle. Surely Rush wasn’t late for practice because he was out with Lynessa Miles! Her face twisted into a sour expression, and then she realized Rae was studying her, so she offered a placating smile. She could tell from the knowing look on her face that Miss Hawk Eye had read her like an open book.

  “No, we don’t know what you mean,” Rae cut in. “Care to explain?”

  Jack winked. “Guy stuff.”

  Rae crossed her arms over her chest. “Uh-huh.” She motioned. “Let’s go. We’ll run through a few chords while we wait.”

  * * *

  They’d been practicing about twenty minutes when Rush finally made his appearance. “Well, look who finally decided to grace us with his presence,” Rae said dryly.

  “‘Bout time you got here, man. The girls are getting antsy.” Jack twirled a drumstick through his fingers.

  Rush strolled over to his guitar and strapped it over his shoulder. “Sorry,” he said breezily, “couldn’t be helped.”

  Rae lifted an eyebrow. “Care to tell us what kept you?”

  His eyes briefly met Elle’s. There was a guarded expression on his face. “Not really.”

  A myriad of emotions flooded through Elle. Every inch of her body was aware of him the moment he stepped into the room. He was so devastatingly handsome with those rugged looks and fierce blue eyes that it hurt to look at him, especially considering that she’d opened her heart to him, and he’d turned her down flat. Even despite all of the confusion with her memory loss, she’d chosen him! A hot anger coursed its way through her as she clenched her jaw. He must’ve felt her animosity because his eyes met hers. There was an amused expression on his face.

  “What?” she shot back.

  “You seem a little tense.” His voice was casual—too casu
al.

  “Really? Is that what I am?” she said icily.

  Rae looked wide-eyed between the two of them and then shot Jack a concerned look. He gave her a lopsided smile and jerked his head back, so that his hair would flop back into place. “Love and hate are two sides of the same coin, Red.”

  “Yeah, so it would seem.” Rae adjusted her microphone.

  Rush cocked his head, his voice taunting. “So, which are we doing today, Elle, loving or hating? It changes so quickly that I can hardly keep up.”

  The nerve! The hair on Elle’s neck stood on ends. “Are we really doing this now?”

  “No, you’re not!” Rae said, eyeing them both. “Not here! Not now!” She ran a hand through her short hair. “You two love birds can work things out on your own time.” She gave Rush a pointed look. “We’ve spent enough time waiting for you as it is. It’s time to get down to business. We need to rehearse to get ready for the gig.”

  Gig? This was the first Elle had heard about a gig. Then again, she’d been so focused on other matters—Rush—that it could’ve slipped her attention.

  “Rush’s mom has promised us a gig at the nightclub where she sings.” She looked at Rush. “When is it?”

  “A week from this Thursday.”

  “Awesome!” Jack began pinging the cymbals.

  “Stop it!” Rae growled. “We’re trying to talk here!”

  He stuck out his tongue. “Don’t get your panties in a wad, Red.” He caught hold of the cymbal to make the noise stop.

  “We’ll only get paid $85.00 for the night, but it’s a start,” Rush said.

  “What songs are we playing?” It had taken a superhuman effort for Elle to play the songs for the Castle High Formal. She didn’t know if she could learn anything new in a week and a half.

  “We’ll be playing the same songs we did for the formal,” Rae said.

  “Good.” That was a relief! Elle realized she’d relaxed too soon when Rae continued.

  “But we will need to add a couple of songs, so that our performance will last long enough.”

  Elle groaned. “Well, that’s just great!”

  Jack gave her a sly smile. “I’m sure Rush won’t mind helping you learn them.”

  Elle’s eyes went wide, and she was about to protest until she saw the dark look that Rush gave Jack. Her heart dropped, and she felt the heat of humiliation.

  Jack threw his arms in the air. “What?” He pointed a drumstick in Elle’s direction. “She needs your help, man.”

  Rush scowled. “Fine, I’ll help her.”

  “No! You won’t help me!” Elle slung her head back, causing her hair to go flying. “I wouldn’t accept your help if my life depended on it!”

  His jaw went hard, and she could see the veil falling over his eyes. “Well, that settles that.” The words were daggers, hedging the distance between them.

  Elle realized then that it was truly over. Tears burned behind her eyes, but she pushed them back. She’d shed far too many tears over Rush Porter as it was. A part of her split off in that moment, growing hard. She looked at Rae. “Well, are we gonna practice or not?”

  Rae gave her a grim smile. “We’re gonna practice. Let’s get to it.”

  Chapter Three

  Sweet Poison

  The moonlight cast soft shadows across Elle’s somber face, her long hair blowing gently in the wind. She was sitting on the roof, hugging her knees to her chest. Rush had been standing in the dark by the window, watching her for the past half hour. Why was it so hard for him to get her out of his system? On the surface, he’d acted tough and disinterested, but the truth was that she was ripping his heart to pieces, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. If Lynessa hadn’t been at his house the day Elle stopped by and shared her feelings, he would’ve broken down and swept her up in his arms. She’d seemed so sincere, and he wanted to believe her, but how could he trust her? How could he open up his heart, only to have it tromped on again? He clenched his fist, knowing that he couldn’t go there. She was his poison, and she would destroy him if he let her. The last straw had been seeing Edward and Elle kissing in the hallway the night of the performance at the Castle High Formal. The thoughts of the two of them together turned his stomach. Ever since he’d moved to Tower Heights, he’d felt this incredible pull to Elle. It was as if they’d known each other before—loved each other a thousand lifetimes. But a relationship required two committed people, and he wasn’t about to open himself up again to Elle—not when the threat of Edward was looming over them. He really couldn’t figure out what hold Edward had over Elle, but there was something there—something imperceptible yet real nevertheless. She was so close. The temptation to go out on the roof and be with her was so intense that he finally had to close the blinds and tear himself away from the window. He put in his earphones and tried to distract himself by listening to music. Then his phone buzzed. He looked down and realized that he had a text from Lynessa. She was asking when she could see him again. He’d intentionally kept things casual with her. They’d gone out a couple of times, but there was no substance there. She was a needed distraction to take his mind off Elle. Lynessa was beautiful and manipulative, but at least he was unaffected by her. It was refreshing to know that for once, he controlled the relationship. He didn’t respond to her text. There was no hurry. He could talk to her tomorrow at school. He propped his arms behind his head and allowed himself to get lost in the rhythm of the music.

  * * *

  As Rushton stealthily made his way along the path that lead to his mother’s house, a haze of clouds cloaked the moon and cast ominous shadows across the road, matching his dark mood. It had been one day since Cinderella had thrown the glass slipper at his head and fled the ball. To make matters worse, Edward kept mulling over the incident, wondering what he did to cause it. He pled with Rushton to help him win her back. The whole thing was absurd! Because Edward had been so distraught, he’d not been able to leave the castle before now. Cinderella’s accusations about his mother kept ringing in his ears. It was hard to fathom that his mother had persuaded Cinderella to get engaged to Edward—furthermore, that she’d asked Cinderella to go to the marketplace on her errand.

  He forced himself to go methodically through all of the events that had transpired, hoping to find a clue as to what really happened. It seemed like a lifetime ago when he’d convinced his mother to secure a lady in waiting position for Cinderella, so that he could be near her, and then in a cruel twist of fate, she’d caught Edward’s eye on the eve of the tournament. Not knowing how else to stop Edward’s infatuation with Cinderella, he’d taken him to see the Sorceress Griselda in the hope that Griselda could foretell of Edward’s true love and steer him away from Cinderella. Griselda told Edward that he would rescue a damsel in distress in the marketplace on a given day and that damsel would turn out to be his true love. Despite all of Rushton’s efforts to ensure that Edward found another damsel to replace Cinderella, she showed up at the marketplace, at the very moment Griselda foretold, and Edward ended up rescuing her and whisking her away to the castle. Then, Rushton got called on a suicide mission to protect the king’s road from cutthroat bandits. His mother, Wisteria, gave him the task of strengthening the shield surrounding the kingdom—a shield, which she and King Aalexander constructed through magic. Before Rushton could complete the task, the dragon attacked and killed all of the king’s men except for him. He did not have a clear recollection of what happened next—only flashes of horrifying memories that were too ghastly to unearth. He shivered, not allowing his mind to go any further down that path. Instead, he focused on what happened afterwards. He found himself lying in a gutter beside the road where he was forced to beg for food as he made his way on foot back to the castle. Upon his return, he discovered that everyone had thought him dead and that Cinderella had gotten engaged to Edward. He and Cinderella argued at the ball, and in a fit of anger, she took off her glass slipper, threw it at his head, and fled.

  Had his moth
er really asked Cinderella to go to the marketplace on her behalf? Cinderella had sounded so certain, and what reason could she have for lying? If his mother did send her to the marketplace then the fates must be against him. Of all the days to send her, why that one? Then another thought occurred to him, a terrible thought that wrenched his gut. What if his mother knew about Griselda’s prediction? Even as he asked the question, he knew intuitively that it was a distinct possibility. His mother had longtime ties to Griselda, and she’d never approved of Cinderella. Had she sent her to the marketplace to throw her into Edward’s arms? Surely not! He knew his mother was stubborn, but was she capable of such treachery? And why? She had never approved of Cinderella, but it wasn’t as if she hated her. None of it made sense. There had to be another explanation.

  His thoughts went to the dragon. Why had the dragon killed all of the king’s men and left him alive? And why couldn’t he remember all that had happened to him during the time when he was supposedly dead? He shuddered. Perhaps it was a mercy that he could not recall it all. The flashes that surfaced filled him with an unspeakable terror.

  As he approached his mother’s home, he was relieved to see that it was dark, letting him know that Wisteria was not there. For as long as he could remember, she always kept a lantern burning in the window. She hated the dark more than anyone he knew.

  He didn’t know what he hoped to find, but he needed to be alone to conduct the search. He first looked through all of the shelves in the main room. His mother had so many bottles of potions and other strange items that were foreign to him. Even if she had left some clue, it was doubtful he would find it here. Next, he made his way to the room where she slept. As opposed to the front room where there were hundreds of bottles stacked on shelves, his mother’s room was sparse. There was a single blanket on her bed that was stuffed with straw, a round rug, a chair, and table that had a quill and bottle of ink atop it. The only other piece of furniture in the room was a large wooden trunk where his mother kept blankets and extra clothes. He began his search there. As he got to the bottom, he felt a box. He pulled it out to examine it and frowned. A strange place to put a box. He opened the lid and let out a groan. His eyes were seeing it, but he didn’t want to believe it. With a sinking heart, he lifted the pouch out of the box. It was stained with blood—his blood. He’d had this pouch with him the night the dragon attacked. He looked inside, dreading what he would find. Sure enough, it was there—the stone that his mother had given him. The truth pelted over him like a thousand arrows tearing into his flesh. There was only one way his mother could’ve gotten a hold of this stone. She was connected to the dragon attack. Beads of sweat broke out across his brow as a chill went through him. Cinderella was right! His mother had intentionally destroyed his life!