The Hunt for Snow (4 page)

It was a little too early for wine, so we ordered soft drinks and perused the menu. Belle reached around for her satchel and pulled out the conference agendas. “I already know what I want,” she said. “Let’s order and put our heads together about the next week. I think it would be good for all involved if at least two of us were together at all times even if it means pairing up with other people. Unless,” she peered at me over the edge of her glasses, “Snow and Max want some alone time. Then Cyndi and I can entertain ourselves for a while.”

I glared at them and then tried to concentrate on the menu. “I don’t think that’s an option,” I said. “But, the fettuccini looks good here!”

“Smooth,” Cyndi drawled. “Leave her alone, Belle. That’s a complicated thing we probably don’t want to get involved in.”

“Thanks,” I said with relief, grateful for a topic change. My mind was churning with thoughts about Max and what his appearance meant for me. So far I had yet to see him without him threatening to kill me. It was a rocky start.

The waiter came back over, took our orders and then left us alone. Belle sat up straighter, her eyes sparkling with the opportunity to schedule something. She folded the agenda to show only the first day of classes. “All right, looks like there are three classes per hour until lunch, then a main session in the hotel ballroom. I think Snow should hit up the Mythical Beings class first.”

I nodded in agreement. Anything to help my regular job I was all for.

“And I think Cyndi and I should hit up the Wish your Way to Fame class.” Belle pushed her glasses up on her nose and looked at me.

I blinked. “There is actually a class about that?”

Cyndi snorted. “Oh, honey, you’ve been gone way too long. Of course there is. How many people have gotten into trouble going to some fly-by-night magic apprentice?”

I shrugged. “Ummm, I don’t know?” I half asked, half said.

“Lots. Listen, you have me—the real deal—and then you have people like Rumpelstiltskin. He can get you what you want, but at a price too heavy for most of us to pay.”

I’d never really thought about what Cyndi did for a living. “And what do you charge?” I asked, curious now about the deceptively shrewd mind of one of my best friends.

She offered a secretive smile. “It depends on the person and what they ask for.”

“That didn’t really tell me anything,” I said. I felt my eyes narrow unwillingly. “I asked you to get me a dress for this ball. I’m not going to have to give up my firstborn, am I?”

Cyndi laughed. “Free of charge. All my deals are worked out in advance and contracts are signed. You get the friend discount. Plus,” she said with a grin, “the day you settle down and have kids is the day I hang up my magic shoes.”

Belle cleared her throat. “Let’s get back to classes, shall we? Besides, Cyndi never shares details about her clients. Everything is very secret squirrel.”

I tucked that away for a later date. Cyndi appeared delicate and sensitive. I knew she wasn’t anything of the sort, but this conversation made me wonder exactly what kind of steel Cyndi was sporting in that spine of hers.

“Second,” Belle continued, “we have a choice between Magic Potions and Elixirs, Charming the Beast and Riding the Gryphon.”

I snort laughed. “Riding the Gryphon?” I asked in disbelief. “Is that like the zoological version of
Fifty Shades of Grey
?”

Cyndi colored. “Ewww, you have a dirty mind, friend.”

Belle glowered. “Nice,” she said. “And, no.” She peered down at the page and read aloud. “Ever wished you could soar through the night skies on the back of a mythical creature? Allow us to show you how to build interpersonal relationships with all your favorite magical creatures. Soon you’ll be soaring about the Enchanted Forest laughing with delight.”

“Bizarre,” I said. “Truly.”

Belle shrugged. “You never know when something like that is going to come in handy. Snow, you take the zoological erotica class, and Cyndi and I will hit up Magic Potions and Elixirs.”

“Why do you get the fun one?” I squeaked.

“Because you have zero magic, Princess. Cyndi and I have mad skills.” Belle waggled her eyebrows.

“Your magic involves influencing electricity and tech.” I pulled the agenda out of her hand to make sure she wasn’t screwing with me.

“True, but every fabulous wizard has a trusty sidekick.” Belle flexed her biceps and kissed one of them.

“Moving on,” I said. “What’s the last class before the main gathering?”

Belle snatched the agenda back and peered at it. “I think we should be together for the last class. We have Archery for Idiots…” Her voice trailed off and then quickly rushed to talk about the next class. “At the same time is Taming the Princess and Magical Implements for Clutzes.”

I didn’t miss Belle skimming over the archery class and I suspected why. “I wouldn’t mind doing the archery class,” I said, feeling her out. “That’s one thing I’m rusty on.”

Belle blushed. “I’d rather do the Magical Implements class, wouldn’t you, Cyndi?”

Cyndi looked between us, smart enough to notice the undercurrent in the air. I smiled sweetly. “Who’s teaching the archery class?” I asked.

Belle slapped the agenda down. “You already know the jerk who’s teaching it,” she snapped.

I sat back in my seat enjoying every minute of her discomfort. After all the crap I took from her about Max, the least I could do was make her squirm about Robin. I started to say something, but the waiter interrupted with our food. I saw Belle’s shoulders slump with relief as the dishes started appearing in front of us. She was off the hook for a little while, but not for long.

With our bellies full and our brains filled with our agenda for the next day, we grudgingly walked back over to the hotel. I kept my eyes open for any signs of Max so I could duck behind a potted plant if I saw him. This week would be brutal. Every time I got around him my palms got clammy and my mouth grew dry. The only good news so far was that no one had tried to kill me yet.

My heartbeat picked up as we walked through the front doors of the hotel. I looked back and forth across the lobby, feeling my shoulders relax. No sign of Max. I glanced at my watch. Two p.m. We still had several hours to kill before the mixer at seven this evening.

“Fancy a drink?” Cyndi asked.

I shrugged. “Why not?” We’d already eaten. It would be nice to kick back with a large glass of wine. We followed Cyndi over to the hotel bar. It was almost filled to capacity. I felt a smile split my face as I saw people I hadn’t seen in years sitting inside. Belle reached over and squeezed my hand in warning.

“Easy, Snow. It’s been years. They might not be as nice as you remember. You left them. Even though it wasn’t your fault, there are some that blame you.”

The smile fell off my face. Belle tugged a strand of my hair. “That’s not to say everyone blames you. The majority of people from the forest know you had no choice. They see you as their Lost Queen, a savior of sorts. But…” Her attention fell upon a short, hairy man sitting at the bar glaring daggers at us. “Some see the downfall of the Enchanted Forest as your fault. Listen to their words, but heed your instincts.”

I nodded. I’d been just a young teen when I left. People were bound to be angry. Grumpy, especially so. He was wearing glamour now, but no matter how strong his disguise, his displeasure seeped through. Now that anger was directed at me. I smiled at him, let go of Belle’s hand, and walked over to him. He could be angry. He was always angry, but I would make sure he let go of the grudge he held against me.

I studied the other people in the bar. Only four of the dwarves were there now, and so far only Grumpy had spotted me. Good. I nudged in beside him without bothering to ask if the seat was taken. He grunted but didn’t look at me.

I stopped the smile threatening to form. There was good reason for his name. I leaned over and peered at his beer. “Whatcha drinking?”

He grudgingly turned my way, as if angry about me taking up his air. Dark brown eyes underneath bushy black eyebrows glittered with anger. “Horse piss.”

“Ah,” I said lightly, “I always knew your taste sucked.”

His mouth twitched and he looked away from me. “Aye,” he said, “my taste in friends used to be appalling, too.”

I flinched. That hurt. “Well,” I said as I gestured for the bartender to come over. “Good thing we aren’t friends anymore. I’d hate to sully your solid reputation for being the fun-loving sort.”

The bartender, a friendly-looking man built like a brick house, ambled over. I was sitting at an elevated bar, but I had to tilt my head up to look him in the eye. His face was broad and freckled, dark green eyes sparkling out from behind floppy brown hair. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was one of ours, but he was unfamiliar to me.

“What’ll it be?” he asked in a deep, broad timbre.

If I hadn’t sworn off men and wasn’t in mixed company I would have told him I wanted to climb him like a tree, just to see his reaction.

“I’ll have what this bloke here is having.” I pointed at Grumpy’s beer.

The bartender’s eyebrows rose, but he nodded and went to fetch me one. Grumpy was doing his darnedest to ignore me, but I wasn’t having it. “So, do you come here often?”

Grumpy twisted his broad girth toward me. “Look, Snow, what do you want? I’m here, having a beer and not looking to rekindle lost friendships. Especially not with you.”

The bartender handed my beer over and gave Grumpy a long look. He turned to me, a questioning look in his gaze.

It’s fine,
I mouthed. He nodded once and left us alone.

“Funny thing. You see, if you look at it my way, you’ll see I was chased out of my home and almost murdered. But, I guess, in your world people see things a little different.”

Grumpy’s wide lips twisted. “We all know your story, Snow. And we were all sympathetic. Until you never came back. We’ve lived under Naomi’s rule for ten years. Ten long terrible years.” He took a long swig of his beer, lost in a haunted memory.

“I wasn’t strong enough to come back,” I admitted.

“We needed you,” was all he said. He picked up his beer and left me sitting alone. The familiar wash of Belle’s perfume washed over me as she squeezed in on the vacated seat, Cyndi close behind her.

Belle put a hand on my shoulder. “He’ll come around.”

I shrugged. “Not sure that he will.” I glanced around the bar, most of the gazes avoiding looking at me, while some stared openly in amazement. I snorted in derision. “The lost princess comes back looking for a handout.”

Cyndi gave me a look of sympathy. “We all know it’s not like that.”

“No,
we
know it’s not like that. Everyone else is probably wondering why I bothered to show up at all.” I took a long swill of my beer and tried not to gag as it washed down. Grumpy really did have appalling taste in some things. I felt the people’s stares on me, some accusing, some sympathetic, but all questioning. “It was a mistake to come here.”

Belle grunted. “It would be an even bigger mistake to leave.” She gestured for the bartender, and when he came over she ordered martinis for her and Cyndi. She gave my beer a critical glance and added in another martini for me. “I don’t know what the hell that is,” she said, staring at the dark brown foamy liquid, “but you should throw it away right now.”

I pushed the beer away. “After we have a drink I think I want to go back up to my room.”

The person on the other side of me left and Cyndi gratefully slid into their seat. She plopped her purse on top of the bar. “Look,” she said in a stern voice, “coming back here was the absolute best thing you could have done. You’ve been hiding too long.” At my squawk of indignation, she held up a hand. “It’s true. You’ve become so immersed in your life here that you haven’t even thought much about what’s going on at home. It’s bad, Snow.” Her voice softened. “Really bad.”

And suddenly I realized what had been niggling at me this entire time. “You’ve bamboozled me!”

Cyndi blinked in surprise, and Belle shifted in her seat, an uncomfortable look on her face.

“Oh my God,” I said, slapping my palm to my forehead. “Did I even get a legitimate invite or did you two yahoos create it in Photoshop?” I shook my head in disbelief.

“The invite was real,” Belle finally said. “Giles wants you home.” I stared at her, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “But we want you home, too.”

My mouth opened. Then closed. “But we’ve built a life,” I said, hearing how whiny I sounded. “We all have successful businesses. A social life. No societal pressures. No bizarre bad guys. The only thing we have to look out for in Mystic Falls is a random purse snatcher. How is being home better than this?”

At that moment, the bartender came back up, his gaze lingering on Cyndi for too long. A faint blush crept onto his cheeks. “Miss Cyndi,” he said, “this one is on me.”

Cyndi smiled at him, dimples creasing her cheeks prettily. “Thanks, Mac! I owe you one.”

Mac? He shifted awkwardly in an endearing aw shucks gesture. “You don’t owe me anything. At all,” he said before shuffling over to the other side of the bar.

I snorted. “I don’t know how you do it.” But I noticed her staring at the awkward bartender longer than for casual interest. “Cyndi?”

“Mmm?” she said, blinking and turning her attention away from him.

“Who is that? Is he one of ours?” He didn’t look familiar to me.

She shrugged, her face closed off once she realized my interest. “His name is John. He’s one of us.” She plastered a smile on her face. “You couldn’t have just any normal tending bar when all of us are here, right?”

I gave her a long look, but she just continued to smile at me. “Right,” I said. Why were my friends being so cagey and weird when it came to men?

I downed my martini and stood, tired of all the games and the awkwardness. “I’m headed back up to the room. Maybe I’ll catch a nap before the mixer.”

Belle frowned. “Want us to come up?”

“No,” I said shortly, then sighed. “I just want some time alone, okay?”

Belle nodded. “Got it. We’ll be back up in an hour or so.”

I nodded at both of them, threw some cash on the bar and sped out of there as fast as I could.

I leaned my head back against the cool metal of the elevator wall and waited for the doors to close. I’d been here less than four hours and already I wanted to run out with my tail tucked between my legs. I stretched, feeling tight tension in my arms, neck and shoulders. Maybe a nap wouldn’t be a terrible idea after all.

“Just where I wanted you,” the voice said from right in front of me.

My eyes flew open and I tried to rush through the doors to get away, but before I could get around him, the doors shut with a loud swoosh.

I was trapped in the elevator with the Huntsman. Thank God I was armed. He stepped into my personal space, and again I cursed my diminutive height. I tilted my head. The look in his eyes was thoughtful…and hungry. I reached around him to push the button to my floor, but he stopped me, entwining his fingers within mine. He pushed the top floor button. Fifty floors. Fifty long floors before I could get away from him. I tried to slide my fingers out of his, but he tightened his grip and pulled me toward him with a jerk. I fell into his arms, the warmth of him surrounding me. The elevator left the first floor, and for the first several seconds we stared at each other.

Max reached over to the panel and pushed the Stop button. I swallowed, fear trickling down my spine in waves. He’d picked the perfect spot to kill me. But would he do it? He leaned his head toward me, lips perilously close to mine.

“I can smell your emotions, Snow.” He inhaled deeply and shuddered. “Fear, anguish, ridicule that you allowed yourself to be caught so easily. But there’s one in there that makes me feel something.” He leaned over to my ear, breathing heavily, making my knees weak. “
Desire
. You want me. I can feel it in the tempo of your heartbeat. Feel it in the heat of your body. I can smell it.”

He took the lobe of my ear between his teeth, nibbling softly. My knees buckled and he pulled me harder against him. “Don’t fight me,” he said once he’d stopped. “Just
feel
.” His arms slipped behind my neck and he closed the distance between us. His lips slid over mine, hot and urgent. I whimpered as I surrendered to his kiss, knowing I shouldn’t be doing this. I should be anywhere but here.

I was crushed into his body, my breasts smashed into his chest. I could feel his loud heavy heartbeat, pounding just as fast as mine. And it gave me courage. I met his kiss with years of hunger and felt the lower half of him respond in kind. He opened his mouth, his hot tongue swirling against my lips, and I moaned.

“Gods, Snow,” he muttered.

He picked me up, my legs automatically wrapping around his waist, and slammed me into the side of the elevator wall. Even as the breath left my chest in surprise, I didn’t care. I ran my hands through his thick hair, joining my mouth to his again. I’d waited years for this kiss, years for him to want me like this. Someone would have to come in and pry me off him now, cameras be damned.

His hands were everywhere, brushing up my shirt to touch the bare skin at my waist, his wide hands spanning the width of it, his thumbs brushing against the undersides of my breasts. I shuddered and pulled him even tighter against me.

Max stiffened, his grip loosening on me. I held on to his neck to keep from falling. “Max?” I whispered. He stepped away from me abruptly, not bothering to catch me. I slid to the floor, confused and hurt.

A groan of agony came from him as he slid to his knees. I crawled over to him, my hand outstretched to touch him. He put his hands over his ears, his face transfixed in a look of agony. Pain-filled green eyes stared at me, unfocused, and he uttered one word.

“Run.”

My heart pounded in panic. I was stuck on a stopped freaking elevator. I scrambled to my feet, hit the button, hammered my palm against the panel to light up as many floors as I could, and almost lost my balance as the elevator jerked into motion. I dug through my pocket and pulled my pepper spray out, frantically thinking how I could subdue him with it without subduing myself. Pepper spray in enclosed quarters—bad idea. My Sig was tucked into the waistband of my pants, but I couldn’t shoot him. Yet.

Max had just given me the best five minutes of making out I’d ever experienced. Shooting him right now wasn’t an option, especially since there was a chance we’d get to do it again soon. And, yes, that’s a horrible way to think, but my dry spell couldn’t be counted, in days, months, weeks or years…it had officially moved into decade territory. Plus, I kind of liked him when he wasn’t being all murderous.

My gaze shifted to him briefly before going back to focus on the doors. He was still on his knees, panting in shallow breaths. I watched the elevator numbers decrease to the next floor and knew I’d be getting off in the next ten seconds. I fidgeted and stepped forward only to hear the telltale sound of a palm hitting the elevator panel. Max stood, leaning heavily against it.

And when I saw the look on his face, hot make out session or not, I slowly slid the Sig from the back waistband of my pants and rested the gun at my thigh. His eyes flared bright red as he watched me, like a lion hunts the gazelle.

“That won’t stop me,” he said casually, like we were passing acquaintances.

In response to that I depressed the decocker and pulled the hammer back on the gun. He smiled, a brilliant, blinding smile that brought tears to my eyes. If we were in another place, another time, and he smiled that way at me, there would be no hope for my heart. But this time, in an elevator stuck in between the 43 and 44th floors, that smile meant he knew he was probably going to win. There was no way out. I had two choices—use the pepper spray and incapacitate us both, or shoot him.