Armageddon Rules (30 page)

“The other freezer. The one that’s not working. Who is that?” I glanced over at Larry.

“Mom.”

I opened the lid to Ari’s casket appliance, and there she slept, a white fog layered over her. “Hold on. I have to tune the potion to her.” I unscrewed the top of the potion, and reached down into the chest freezer, letting an orange vapor leech from the bottle, into Ari’s nose. Then I took it out.

“You drink this, you look at her. It’s tuned to her now, so even if you see Larry, you won’t be getting the hots for someone with an eating disorder.” I handed the potion to Wyatt, and he downed it with one gulp.

I’d never actually watched a love potion take effect. When Wyatt opened his eyes, he looked dizzy, like he was about to collapse. He lurched to the side of the freezer and looked down at Ari. The orange vapor that covered him seemed to tint his very skin before subsiding into the shine that covered princes normally.

“How do you feel?” I took his arm, hoping he wasn’t going to fall and chip a tooth.

Wyatt looked over at me. “I don’t feel different at all.”

“Then kiss her, and let’s see what happens.”

While I waited, Wyatt tried and failed over and over to lean down into the chest freezer. At his height, he should’ve been able to reach, but the best he could do was reach her heel.

After a while I got up, walked over, and grabbed Ari’s feet. Then I began to pull her up out of the freezer until I could grab her hand and flop her over my shoulder. I laid her down on the shag carpet and brushed her red hair out of her face. “Now?”

I looked up at Wyatt. He’d pulled a pocket toothbrush from his jeans, and stood, working his teeth to a shine. Then he took out a mint breath strip, sucked on it, and knelt to wipe Ari’s lips clean. “I’m still conflicted over doing this without permission. Perhaps she’ll forgive me.” Then he kissed her.

I’d felt magic when Ari cast spells. I’d felt it when her stepmother nearly barbecued me once. This was a whirlpool of magic that centered on the two of them. This was love magic, not the power of lips connecting, but of hearts. Grimm always swore that if he could harness it, he could remake the world. Then Ari’s hand twitched.

My heart leaped within me, and I wasn’t the least bit ashamed of the tears in my eyes.

Ari wrapped her hands around him and kissed him back, much to his surprise. I’d complain about the amount of time she held him, but I figured that after a coma the girl deserved a little slack. Ari deserved happiness, in my book.

Since the first prince I set her up with tried to kill us both, I really hoped her second try would go better.

“I knew you’d come for me.” Ari still strangled him like an octopus, and I think that Wyatt was enjoying it.

She let go at last and they faced each other. Ari’s long hair obscured her face, but the smile on Wyatt’s face could’ve powered the city for a day. Then the smile failed. His jaw dropped open, his eyes went wide.

Wyatt pushed her away and scrambled on his back, crawling, then leaping to his feet, a wild look of terror on him. As he rushed for the stairs, I tried to stop him, and got an elbow to the head as he flailed at me. The brief beat of feet on the stairs, the slamming of the front door, and silence fell over the house.

Behind me Larry floated wordlessly.

Ari turned and saw me for the first time. “What happened?” I used the same will that held me in the Devil’s office to remind myself of who Ari was. I walked toward her and reached out to touch her cheek.

“I don’t know.” A lie, but I didn’t know what else to say.

Ari’s face perked at my voice. “Marissa, is that you?” Her eyes were solid yellow, the pupil and iris gone, replaced with the diseased color that marked wielders of Wild Magic. Even Grimm couldn’t fix this.

Ari was a witch.

*   *   *

WE SPENT THE first hour or so in the basement. Ari couldn’t climb the stairs and remained too proud to let me carry her on my back. She sat, probing her eyes over and over with her fingers.

No tears. Witches don’t cry.

“What do you remember?” We sat with our backs against the chest freezer, her hand in mine.

“I remember the apple. Queen Mihail threw it at us.”

At me. I knew better. If not for Ari’s intervention, I’d be so much applesauce on a college stage. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault.”

“I know.” Ari’s voice stuttered and caught. She had to be thinking about how people in Kingdom treated witches. Barely citizens, practically fair game. Life insurance companies actually had a code for “accidentally rolled down the stairs while tied up in a bag full of forks” just for witches. Witches routinely committed suicide by shooting themselves in the head three to four times, according to the police.

“She got to Grimm too.” When I said it, Ari’s grip on me tightened until my bones ached. She’d been telling herself Grimm would help.

She leaned her head over against my shoulder, those yellow eyes closed. “Wyatt—” A sob cut into her voice. “What happened?”

“It’s a long story.”

We both jumped as Larry slammed the freezer door shut. “I’ll make some tea.” He floated upward through the ceiling, leaving us alone.

*   *   *

“NOT A PRINCE.” Ari fixed me with a glare that was worlds more effective without her eyes. “I’d know a prince if I met one. I’ve kicked four of them in the crotch, sprayed three with pepper spray, and there’s one of them missing a finger from trying to push his way into the front door.”

“He is. Son of the First Royal Family. Didn’t you take Kingdom history in school? The name Pendlebrook didn’t ring a bell? He thought I was an accountant, by the way.” For a moment, it reminded me of our normal morning bickering. The little exchanges we’d have before I sent her out to charm an ogre, or a banker.

“The name on Wyatt’s papers is Ptengdlebhrookz. I guess the T, G, H, and Z are silent.” Ari scrunched up her nose, counting the letters, then trailed off. “I’m sorry for lying about everything. I just wanted someone who liked me for who I am, not what I am.” Her words pinned me to the chair as well as a broadsword would have. Ari had nothing to apologize for. Would never have anything to apologize for.

Yeller came over and climbed up onto the couch, laying his head in her lap. His head alone weighed nearly thirty pounds. The couch groaned under his weight. Ari ran her fingers over his snout, rubbing that sore spot under his head where his slobber caught fire most days. “If Grimm’s gone, are we out of a job?”

“Not exactly.” I waited a moment, trying to figure out how to explain this. “There’s still an Agency. My Agency, now. Grimm left it to me.”

“Did you fire Rosa?”

I could’ve hugged that girl. “It’d be like firing the toilets.”

“I’m not sure I’m up to working right now.” Ari glanced around her apartment, though how she could see without eyes was really beginning to bother me.

I gave her hand a squeeze. “It’s okay. You need to lay low. Queen Mihail tried to have you killed at the hospital. If it hadn’t been for my favorite wolf and my pet ninja, you’d be dead.”

“You can’t stand wolves.”

“Mikey’s growing on me. In a few decades I think he’ll be able to work with Liam.”

Ari’s face fell, and she looked at Yeller. “You know who Mikey’s related to?” She caught the look of disgust on my face and gave an exasperated sigh. “Grimm didn’t tell you. He said he would handle it.”

“He didn’t tell me a lot of things. When, not if, I manage to restore him, we’re going to have some question-and-answer sessions.” I thought about telling her about the Black Queen. About the apocalypse. The poor girl’d been through a lot though, and I figured she deserved some time to recoup. When you are ready, I could use your help.”

Ari’s fingers closed about mine. “Do I look like—” She choked. “Like the Isyle witch?”

“No. She’s old. Wrinkly, reminds me of a talking raisin. You’re cute.”

“Cute?” Ari looked at me, staring with blighted eyes. “Wyatt didn’t think so.”

I stood up. “You leave him to me. In the meantime, stick close to home, in case Queen Mihail tries something stupider.”

The doorbell rang, and Yeller let out a growl that shook the dishes.

“Please,” said Larry, “no more.”

“Marissa?” Ari arched her eyebrows at me. “What did you do?” She stared at the front door. “Why is there a line of encyclopedia salesmen at my door? Yeller, tell them no soliciting.” Yeller shook his hackles and faded into the shadows.

“I’ll be in the kitchen. You could use some soup, Ari.” Larry drifted out, while screams of agony rose from the porch.

I stood up and grabbed my purse. “I’ll handle Wyatt. I’ll explain about the door knockers. Give me some time.” I started to the door, then swung back and smothered her in a hug. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.” I didn’t normally make promises I couldn’t keep. Some promises, however, I’d do my damnedest to keep.

Twenty-Six

I DIDN’T EXPECT my cell phone to ring. I definitely didn’t expect to hear the voice of Death on the other end, but once I did, it brought a certain smile to my face. This contract game, I could play it all day.

“Marissa, what do you think you’re doing?” asked Death. Muffled shouting made me smile, as one of the harbingers shouted threats.

“Do you like your mounts? I trust you found them at the station?” Smile on your face, smile in your voice, the saying goes.

“Horses, Marissa. We’re the horsemen of the apocalypse.” A tinge of frustration crept into Death’s voice.

“That’s not what the contract says. Mounts are what I’m required to get you. You can mount a bicycle and ride it all the way to the city. I got you a nice road bike with a comfy seat and everything. Poor Famine, he’s going to have a long, hard trip.”

Death muttered something from beyond the receiver, invoking even louder cursing. “We don’t sleep, Marissa. We don’t eat. We ride, and that’s what we’ll do. You should have known better than to try something like this.”

While I chatted, I walked downstairs to the loading dock and sent my workers on break. “I packed you some spare tubes and gave you each a water bottle. I’ll see you in a week or so.” Then I hung up on the manifestation of Death, reached into my purse, and got ready.

When a cargo crate burst into flames, and Malodin erupted from the ashes, I was ready. “Malodin. Your harbingers are on their way.”

“Horsemen.” He nearly screamed, whistling through pointed teeth.

“Not according to this.” I took my copy of the contract out and thrust it at him. “I’m required to provide mounts the harbingers can ride. You’re lucky I didn’t get them pedal carts.”

Malodin grew taller, thinner, as he stalked toward me, his claws clicking in agitation. “You know, your clause says you’ll be spared. That doesn’t mean unharmed. I think I’ll take a few fingers to start”—he froze as I drew my other hand out of my purse, clutching the crystal vial of holy sweat—“Where did you . . . ?”

“I’ll tell you the same thing I tell every creep in the city. Keep your hands to yourself.” I took a step toward him, smiling as he cowered.

Malodin threw his head back as though he were about to howl. “You owe me another plague.”

“And I’ll deliver. Go back to your hellhole and wait.” I stood my ground as flames enveloped Malodin, turning him into a pile of ash. When he was truly gone, I grabbed a walkie-talkie and called the dock men back to work, then headed up to the Agency.

In the lobby, a fish creature with the top half of a tuna and the overweight bottom of a couch potato sat. The unlucky fisherman beside her carried a bucket of water, spritzing her from time to time. Every time one of these mer-maidens showed up, we had to drop everything and dispose of them.

“Rosa, get the enchanters out here to fix this.” I ignored her rude gesture and headed back to my office. On the way, the unmistakable sounds of a kazoo caught my attention. In my smallest conference room, Beth and Mikey sat at the table, laughing in a way that sounded a bit too cozy for my tastes.

“What exactly is going on in here?” I slammed the door open, then had to work at keeping from collapsing in laughter as Mikey turned around.

Piercings and chains hung from every inch of his face. He looked like the jewelry display at the south side flea market, only less respectable. “I can explain, Marissa.”

Once I finally caught my breath, I stood up and tried to put on my boss face. “Go on.”

After a moment of shifting his eyes around, he looked at the floor, hands in his pockets. “I can’t really explain.”

“He was helping me.” Beth hummed on her kazoo, and a trio of poodles slunk out from under the table to growl at me.

“Where in Inferno did you get those? And why are they not in their cages?” The sight of those white clumps of furry evil drove all the laughter out of me.

“Oh, come on, Ms. Locks. They’re friendly.” Beth reached over and rubbed one of the poodle’s muzzles, where the white fur had clots of blood from the last meal.

“Lock them up. Come with me.” I looked at Mikey, who ripped the piercings out, one by one, and put them on the table. “You, get back to work. There’s a mer-maiden in the lobby.”

Mikey almost drooled on me. “A big one?”