Armageddon Rules (40 page)

I shook my head and started to rise, but she put a hand on my shoulder. “M, you owe me this. If it’s about the money, I’ll give you what I earn. If you want pink, I’ll buy you a closet full of clothes. Don’t get involved with the court.”

Grimm appeared in Ari’s makeup mirror. “Arianna, calm yourself. Marissa can no more be made a princess than you can be unmade. I don’t recall any similar situations, but we’ll find a nice young girl who’s offended Marissa and make her an offer she can’t refuse. I can use a puppet in the Queen’s Court.”

I flopped back on the bed. “I’m more interested in my three pounds of Glitter. When exactly do I get that? Do I have access to Mihail’s bank accounts?”

Grimm laughed. “Hardly. The only thing you actually won was a title that would pass to your children. They would be princes, or princesses, and live with the benefits and drawbacks.”

His words chilled me to the core. There wouldn’t be any little princes or princesses in my future, assuming there was a future at all.

“I’m sorry, my dear.” Grimm’s tone sounded of pity, which offended me. “I meant no offense.”

“Can I borrow a dress? I need to change into something made in the last century.” Ari’s stuff would be short on me, but wearable.

“Place the clothes in a pile, Marissa. Call me when you are done.” Grimm faded away, not even pretending he’d peek in on me.

Anyone who tells you sneaking around in leather is easy or quiet has never tried it. I squeaked and rippled and finally surrendered, letting Ari peel it off. After I dressed in something sensible, I called Grimm.

“Stand back.”

When he spoke, I acted. I knew better than to risk being too close. The pile of leather burst into flame without smoke, glowing white-hot, then collapsing to a pile of gray ash.

I reached up and felt for the hair combs, pulling them out. “I don’t think these will burn.”

“Do you like them?” Grimm’s tone held that same note of sorrow.

“They’re beautiful.” I handed one to Ari to admire the carving.

“Then consider them yours. I don’t believe you had time to grab a matchbook from the restaurant, and it may be your only trip to the court. Liam’s flight lands tomorrow morning. You need to get some rest, Marissa. Your healing is not complete.”

I hadn’t noticed my arms turning to lead, but somehow it happened in the instant my eyes were closed. “Couch. Help.”

Ari handed me back the comb. “I’ve slept enough for a month, M. You can have the bed. Grimm, meet me downstairs. I need to set some wards in case that bitch decides to try something else.”

“Michael is standing guard outside. If you would avoid hitting him with lightning or fire, it would help.” Grimm’s voice began to buzz as I drifted off. Anyone else, passing out on their bed wouldn’t have been an option.

Thirty-Five

THE DAY OF the apocalypse started a lot like any other day. I woke to a demon sitting in a chair, watching me. “Handmaiden.” Malodin looked less and less normal every time I met him. “It is time. The horsemen begin their circle of the city. You owe me a third plague.”

“Grimm?” I fumbled for my bracelet.

“Mr. Malodin, consider your message delivered. You’ll have your third plague by the time the harbingers are ready.” Grimm’s voice reassured me. He’d figure something out. He always did.

Malodin rose, his head almost touching the ceiling on spindly legs. With each step, he looked like a spider. “I have waited two eternities. A few hours more don’t matter.” He hunched and left the room. When the door slammed below, I finally sat up.

“Grimm? What’s the plan? You found some secret loophole?”

Black smoke poured from the vent, forming a cloud that solidified into my lawyer. Larry shook his head, causing the cell phone to rattle against his ribs. “No such luck. I haven’t slept all night. This contract is well written.”

“Looks like garbage to me. Even the translated one.” I shook my hair, wondering exactly how that many tangles could creep in overnight.

“Specific language is what makes the contract so clear. Here. Read the part about the apocalypse.” Larry broke every rule known to man, shuffling through my purse without permission, and took out my copy of the contract.

“The signer shall call down the demon apocalypse at the appointed time.” I shrugged. “I don’t get it.”

“There isn’t much to argue about. It’s simple and effective. Unless you can get Malodin to sign the cancellation, it’s going to be hell on earth. But we did find a way to buy time.” Larry dropped the contract in my hands and drifted back.

“Marissa, in my opinion, you were dangerously close to breach of contract with your first two plagues.” Grimm spoke from Ari’s makeup mirror. “While I applaud the audacity, your third plague will have to be more traditional. You’ve hardly unleashed anything that qualifies.”

“You answer the door and tell me that. Malodin accepted them as plagues, that’s what counts. Going to shower.” I hadn’t planned to sleep most of the night. Early morning spent fretting over the end of the world, that was the plan.

“Now you are thinking like a lawyer. The key to avoiding more destruction is timing. Which is why I allowed the demon to wake you.”

“Get to the point. There’s a way to stop all this?”

“No, my dear. But there’s a way to prevent the harbingers from joining the destruction. Their arrival is meant to be the culmination of the terror. Section 200, subsection eight, paragraph three states that the harbingers end the plague with their first act.”

I shook my head. “Out of the frying pan and into the incinerator.”

Grimm clicked his tongue at me in disapproval. “My dear, show some faith. If the plague is already ended by the time they arrive—”

“They can’t join the fun.” I turned the thought over in my head, seizing at a desperate idea. “I need you to make me reservations.”

“I’m staying put in my basement. When the world ends, it will still be safe for me. I’ll shelter Arianna there as well, if she so desires.” Larry dissolved, drifting back into the vent.

By the time I’d turned my skin lobster red, I knew what my plague had to be. It would tick off Malodin, Grimm, and probably anyone who came into contact with it, but it was the best plan I could come up with. When I got out of the shower, I found a tiny shopping bag filled with clothes from my apartment. Ari really didn’t sleep at all, if she had time to fetch me clothes. At least I’d look good for the end of the world

I had two buttons on when the screaming started, three when the window below smashed in, and that’s the point where I flew down the stairs.

In the living room, Mikey hulked over, his fur glistening with dew. Beneath him, something mewled like a sick kitten. Mikey looked up at me, his face contorted, his nose long. “Morning, Marissa. Found him halfway up the trellis, peeking into your window.” Mikey drew back one claw, flexing points that could carve flesh like butter.

“Please, stop this violence. I came to see Arianna.” Wyatt lay crumpled on the carpet.

“Wyatt!” Ari came running from the kitchen, a cook’s apron on, a spatula still in hand. She froze, searching for her sunglasses, then gave up in frustration. “Why were you peeking on Marissa?”

“I thought you were her. That is your bedroom.” Wyatt tried to stand up, but Mikey kept him pinned to the floor.

“You wanted to peek on me getting dressed?” I couldn’t tell if Ari was offended or interested. Offended. Had to be offended.

“No, I wanted to see you. I’m so ashamed of how I acted.” Wyatt slowly raised his gaze to match hers, and cringed. “I was afraid.”

Larry came from the kitchen, bringing Ari’s sunglasses to her. “If you want me to devour his soul, let me know.”

Ari raised the spatula like a sword. “Out. All of you, out. I need to talk with Wyatt privately. Marissa, your breakfast is in the kitchen. I made crepes. Mikey, there’s a ham in the trunk of Marissa’s car for you. Grimm, go anywhere but here. Larry, haunt the attic. Wyatt, you’ve always said that relationships require communication. So we’re going to communicate.”

I grabbed Mikey’s arm. “I want you to go pick up Beth and have her ready to go. And I’ll have you know, you are way better than the plastic ferns.” I gave him a mock salute and wandered to the kitchen. While I devoured the best chocolate crepes of my life, and possibly the last ones of it, I called Grimm. “Can’t get the ring off.”

Grimm showed up in the toaster. “I know. And before you ask, I can’t remove it. Magic may not—”

“Magic oppose. I really need this finger though. Can you move it to the other hand?” I didn’t mind the silver band. The fact that it would block a gold one, that bugged me.

“You are the one who put it on that finger. I will research ways to change it, but for now you will sport both gold and silver. And don’t even think of cutting off your finger. The ring would appear somewhere else.

“Another finger?” I knew a surgeon who could do some fine work with reattaching things.

“Possibly. There are less comfortable places to have a ring attach itself.”

“The thorn tree.” The memory of that image came back, souring the taste of crepe.

“I know. I visited it as soon as Ari told me. I tell you in confidence that I have enlisted the aid of another fairy.” Grimm spoke softly, afraid the walls might hear.

Fairies never asked each other for help. Ever. They couldn’t even come near each other. “Why?”

“My daughter’s actions are a blind spot for me. Whether it is the love I held for her, or that her power is a fragment of my own, I confess that I cannot determine her whereabouts.” Grimm wouldn’t look at me.

“So she’s alive?”

“The auguries say she is not dead. You would have it be a yes or no, but with that much power, the continuum between alive and dead becomes gray and wide. If she makes a single move on earth, I will know.”

I finished my crepe, put my dishes in the sink, and stopped. See, the murmurs, the protests, all of that—gone. I crept to the kitchen door and peeked into the living room. Ari and Wyatt lay locked in an embrace, kissing. Communicate, my ass. Ari was testing the poor boy for tonsillitis, or maybe being tested. Hard to say.

“Marissa,” hissed Grimm, “leave them be.”

You know what? The end of the world doesn’t come every day. Far as I was concerned, they could bump uglies and I’d give Ari a high five for carping the diem.

I’d read most of the business news by the time Ari appeared in the kitchen, her blouse off by one button, her hair wildly messed up.

“I hear you decided to major in communications. Where’s your prince?”

Ari poured herself a cup of orange juice. “He’s brushing his teeth and washing his hands. Wyatt has,” Ari paused, looking for the right word, “issues with contact.”

I nodded. “Yeah, looked like it.”

“No, really.” Ari clenched her fists in frustration. “If we hold hands, he has to go wash afterward. He carries unopened toothbrushes with him, and he buys mouthwash in bulk.”

“So you two didn’t actually
do
anything.”

Ari stomped her foot. “That’s enough, Marissa. Wyatt takes physical relationships very seriously. We’re moving slow. Giving him time to get used to things.” She didn’t need to say what those things were.

Grimm reappeared in Ari’s toaster. “I’ve made the arrangements. The baseball stadium is yours.”

“Call Mikey, have him meet us there. I want mercenary teams in the parking lots in case my plan goes off the rails. Malodin wants something awful unleashed, I’ll give him something awful.”

“My dear, I must warn you that violating your contract is not something I can advise. My expertise in these areas is extreme, and thus both the demon and your lawyer agree that I cannot help you subvert it.” Grimm almost looked sorry. Almost.

“I can handle this. You make the reservations, handle the small details, I’ll take care of plagues and such.” I grabbed my purse and my best friend’s hand and headed out to finish what I’d started. Namely, the destruction of the world.

*   *   *

FILLED WITH PEOPLE, the baseball stadium is an amazing place. The crowd roars like a single entity every time its team does something largely mediocre. Empty, like the darkest alley of an abandoned ghost town. From outside, the sounds of cars on the freeway and planes on approach to the airport echoed as I stood on home plate.

“Didn’t know running the bases was on your bucket list.” Ari stood behind me, leaning against the backstop.

“Ms. Locks!” From the dugout behind me came Beth, with Mikey hulking behind her like something from a monster movie. It wasn’t the eight-foot wolf man with slobber on his jaws and claws the length of my palm. It was the flock of tiny white poodles surrounding her, each with a pink, blue, or green collar around its neck. And bows.

“Beth, what have you done?” Ari made a run for first base, with a poodle hot on her heels. I’m betting if the princess ever made it to the majors, she could be a hit, given how fast she ran.

“Awww, they’re not that bad. Once they stop eating people, the hellfire goes right out of them.” Beth knelt on the ground, letting the poodles yip and leap on her until she disappeared into a pile of white fur.