Page 16 of Enchantra (Wicked Games #2)
15
GILDED PREY
Genevieve woke up to a snow leopard pouncing on the bed. She let out a piercing shriek as she scrambled away from the enormous feline and?—
—rolled right off the edge of the mattress.
The pain of hitting the floor never came, however, because a second before impact, her entire body disappeared.
She shifted herself back to her solid state as relief flooded through her at the feeling of her returned magic. Glancing up, she spotted the leopard’s dark eyes peeking just over the edge of the bed, ears flat against its head as its tail waved in anticipation.
“Sapphire, heel ,” Ellin’s voice ordered the overgrown cat from somewhere on the other side of the room.
A moment later and the other girl appeared around Genevieve’s side of the bed, the look on her face not nearly as regretful as Genevieve thought it should be.
“You’re a heavy sleeper,” Ellin said. “I didn’t know what else to try.”
Genevieve climbed to her feet, kicking away the linens that had slid off the bed along with her. “What did you try in the first place?”
Ellin shrugged. “I knocked.”
Genevieve propped a hand on her hip. “How many times?”
“Once.”
Genevieve glared.
“You’re going to have to learn how to be more alert during the Hunt,” was all Ellin offered in lieu of any sort of apology. And, unfortunately, she was right. Genevieve had never had to worry about being a heavy sleeper before. Anytime her instincts sensed she was in danger, she’d trained herself to simply disappear. Aside from last night, she usually didn’t even wake up from her nightmares. Enduring them until the sunlight broke the horizon or opting not to sleep at all.
Genevieve huffed and rubbed at her eyes as she tried to dislodge the sleepiness still lingering in her mind from waking up sometime during her slumber. The room around her was still dark, no windows or natural light to tell her what hour of the day it might be. Rowin and Umbra were nowhere to be seen either.
“What time is it?” she wondered.
“Half past four,” Ellin answered as she scratched her Familiar behind its fluffy white ears, making the feline fill the room with its purring.
“I slept for over twelve hours ?” Genevieve gaped. “Why didn’t Rowin wake me up?”
“He was adamant about letting you rest.” Ellin shrugged. “Something about you needing more of it since you’re a mortal and all. Truthfully, I’m surprised you didn’t wake up when the band arrived and Sevin and Covin decided to commandeer their trumpets.”
“They’re trumpet players?” Genevieve wondered.
“No.”
Genevieve found herself grinning.
“A part of me hopes you might actually last past the first round, if for no other reason than I’ll be all alone with these morons again,” Ellin grumbled.
“I’m touched,” Genevieve said dryly.
Ellin only smirked as she raised her hand and made a sweeping gesture through the air around the room. Genevieve watched in awe as the candles in the sconces sparked to life along with the feeling of crackling power over her skin like static electricity. It was a feeling very close to what she had felt the first time Rowin had opened Enchantra’s front door.
“Fire?” Genevieve asked. “Can all of you do that?”
“Light,” Ellin corrected. “And no. I’m the only Light Wraith in the family.”
Genevieve filed away this information for later. “Which makes Rowin…?”
“Rowin, Wells, and Remi are Shadow Wraiths. The power of every Wraith tends to vary since we can inherit any number of things from our demonic parent,” Ellin said with a dismissive wave of her hand, as if the subject was too boring to continue discussing. But Genevieve was kicking herself for not having learned more about them by now. “It’s time to start getting ready. The masquerade starts in an hour and a half, and Rowin requested that I help you get dressed while he and the others help Father prepare for everyone’s arrival, but I have to get myself ready, too, you know.”
Genevieve was about to ask why Ellin would need to help her when she spotted the gown hanging against the bedroom door. It was the most elaborate dress she had ever seen—much more detailed than her wedding gown had been—and even more opulent than those at the Mardi Gras balls back home.
Ellin waited patiently for Genevieve to strip down to her undergarments before helping her step into the gown. The bodice was made of pristine gold silk, its boned panels tapering to a point at her waist in a salaciously flattering cut before giving way to the layers of billowing skirts. Ellin tightened the laces of the corset until Genevieve almost couldn’t breathe, but the effect was worth the lack of oxygen, with the square neckline showing off a scandalous amount of her perfectly ample bosom. The corset’s thick straps tied in bows at the tops of her shoulders, a detail she couldn’t help but adore, though it was the hand-beaded, anatomical heart made of sparkling diamonds and pearls that made the gown a true masterpiece.
Pear-shaped gems emanated from the heart’s center, scattering across the bodice and down onto the skirts, making it look like the heart was bursting into a thousand droplets of shimmering black blood. Genevieve gave a twirl, testing to see how easily the skirts moved. Like air.
“He was right. You do look good in gold,” Ellin said matter-of-factly as she stepped back to admire the dress.
Genevieve opened her mouth to ask who he was, but Ellin was already moving on.
“Remember—the Hunt begins at midnight. Once it starts, you officially exist for their entertainment,” Ellin warned. “I suggest you indulge during the party and enjoy the last bit of fun you might ever have.”
Genevieve winced.
Ellin sighed. “I worry Rowin hasn’t really prepared you for the consequences of playing this game together—win or lose. For all involved.”
“Because of your mother? That’s what this is all for, right? To save her from the Crimson Rot?” Genevieve said.
“It’s more complicated than that,” Ellin said. “But that’s not your problem. You’re not really part of the family.”
Genevieve winced as if Ellin had slapped her, though Ellin didn’t seem to notice. It wasn’t that Genevieve thought, or wanted, otherwise, but she didn’t think it was possible for such words to not sting deeply. Except for Rowin, it was clear that she was expendable to everyone here. It didn’t matter that Sevin had walked her down the aisle. That Ellin had helped dress her up and defended her against her brothers. Or that Barrington had been so adamant about sparing her. In her experience, immortals had a way of making you feel like they were empathetic, attached even, when their hearts were actually made of impenetrable stone.
Genevieve imagined it was a necessary coping mechanism when one saw so much life and death come and go in their never-ending existences. Still, it was a good reminder of why she loved being so mortal. She enjoyed feeling everything so intensely. Well, almost everything. She could certainly do without the heartbreak.
“After you finish getting ready, my father requested that you meet him in his study,” Ellin said, pulling Genevieve out of her thoughts. “But remember to be in the ballroom at six. Knox gets cross when anyone’s late. He likes to make a grand entrance.”
Ellin rolled her eyes at that last bit as she turned to leave, letting her Familiar escape into the hallway ahead of her.
Once she was alone, Genevieve noticed, sitting at the corner of the mattress, a silver gift box that she hadn’t seen before, a pair of elbow-length gloves by its side. A purple envelope sat atop the box, its silver wax seal face up, and she hesitated.
The last time I opened such a tempting letter …
When she finally scooped up the envelope and turned it over, however, she saw that this time it was addressed to her. Well, addressed to Mrs. Silver .
She slid her fingernail beneath the flap to break the seal and pulled out the thick, black parchment inside. There were three sentences and a name scrawled in glittering, silver ink in the middle of the page.
Your husband requested the gold. I requested the mask.
I think it’ll be rather fitting.
Knox.
She tossed the letter aside and pried off the box’s lid to reveal the mask beneath. The sense of dread that flooded through her at the sight of it nearly made her choke.
A hare.
The Devil had dressed her up like shiny, gilded prey .
Genevieve did not expect to walk out of Rowin’s room to a crowd of people.
As soon as she opened the door, a group of masked figures, all draped in opulence, turned toward her at once. It reminded her eerily of the crows.
Someone in the back gasped, “That has to be her. The bride.”
They were all clutching onto what looked like handheld mirrors as well as various bubbling cocktails.
One of the figures, who was dressed in a gown made of feathers with the mask of a peacock affixed to the top half of their face, held up their looking glass and requested, “Show me the bride.”
When Genevieve’s image appeared in real time on the mirror’s surface, everyone gasped. Including Genevieve herself.
Another of the figures stepped forward then, looming down over her as he scrutinized her like she was a specimen of bug he’d never seen before. His mask was a bright cobalt blue, the same color as his skeptical gaze and the rest of his three-piece suit. Unlike her hare costume, or the peacock’s, the theme of his ensemble seemed to be…a man in a mask.
Rowin’s ring suddenly began to heat, and she looked down at her finger in shock.
“You don’t look like anything that fucking special,” the man in blue scoffed.
Genevieve fiddled with the ring on her finger. “You know, I was just thinking the exact same thing about you.”
He seemed amused by this, crossing his arms over his chest as he tilted his head at her. “Why should we place our wagers on you?”
Genevieve curled a lip in disdain. “The better question is, why should I give a fuck whether you do or not?”
His smile tightened. The ring grew hotter.
“Don’t you want to win Favored?” he glowered.
Genevieve giggled. “Why would I want to impress a bunch of depraved assholes with nothing better to do than watch a family tear each other apart?”
“Oh, she’s mouthy,” someone with the horns of a stag attached to their head mused.
“I thought Rowington would like someone more…quiet,” someone else chattered back.
Genevieve nearly laughed. He definitely would.
“Mortals,” the man said with a disdainful roll of his eyes. “You think any of us care about being morally superior enough to take any of what you said as an insult? If you could live long enough, you’d see that there is no such thing as depravity or saintliness—just creative ways to pass the time.”
A few toasts clinked around them.
“I’ll leave you to do that, then,” she said as she tried to step past them. “Enjoy your meaningless eternal existence.”
The man shifted a step over to block her path. The ring was scorching now.
Before Genevieve could snap at him to move, he reached out and shoved her against the wall. Her shoulders and the small of her back bounced off the hard surface painfully, but all she could do was suck in a sharp breath in shock as she tried to regain her balance.
“Watch it, Cedric,” the peacock warned. “Knox will kill you if you spoil his game.”
“It’s not like I’m going to maim her,” Cedric said with a taunting smirk. “I just want to see what sort of fight she’s got. I have a feeling her contribution is going to be pathetic.”
Pathetic. There was that word again. It took everything in her not to launch herself at him.
Instead, she walked away. Refusing to give the crowd the satisfaction of watching her get all worked up. She was sure they’d get enough of that soon enough in the game.
“Hey, I wasn’t done with you,” Cedric called as he rushed after her. “Listen, maybe we got off on the wrong foot. I have an offer for you, and I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be a waste of time.”
“I’m not interested,” she said as she continued on without looking at him.
“Don’t you want to know what it is, at least?” he pressed. “I can make us both rich. Well, I’m already rich. So rich er , I suppose.”
“If you don’t go away, I’ll scream,” she threatened cheerily.
“Could you just fucking stop for one second?—”
“Rowin!” she shouted. “There’s a strange man bothering— mmf !”
Cedric had slapped his hand over her mouth from behind.
She opened her jaw and sank her teeth into the sensitive flesh between his thumb and index finger as hard as she could.
“You little bitch !” Cedric howled as he tried to shake her off, but she only bit down tighter.
When he finally managed to dislodge her, she turned around to snap her teeth at him once more. “Stay the fuck away from me, or the next time I’ll make sure I hit bone .”
As she strode away, she looked down at Rowin’s ring on her hand and brushed the pad of her thumb over it. With every step she took, it grew colder.
By the time Genevieve made it to Barrington’s study, there was less than an hour until the masquerade began.
The dim, candlelit room was quite drafty, causing a shiver to run down her spine as her eyes adjusted to the dark. Scents of wood, tobacco, and old books hit her a moment before the bitter smell of charred…something.
Her arms pebbled at the power she felt bleeding into the room from somewhere in the back. As her eyes traced over the bookcases behind the desk at the study’s center, she found the source of the strange energy. A large, fathomless portal.
The portal’s surface seemed to be rippling—like a vertical pool of black water. Genevieve was so enraptured, and disturbed, by the mysterious abyss that she failed to notice Barrington until he cleared his throat.
“Genevieve,” Barrington greeted softly from where he stood by one of the bookcases. “Come. Sit.”
She made her way over to a leather chair in front of the desk, perching on the armrest and leaving her gown to drape carefully down the side. She didn’t want to crease the material too much.
“You look wonderful,” he told her, but there was a sadness in his tone that was unmistakable. “You have Tessie’s eyes. Well, the eyes she had when I first met her, anyway.”
Because as soon as Necromancers completed the ritual to inherit their magic, the warm cerulean the women in her family had been born with turned an icy shade of blue. Grimm Blue.
Being Ophelia’s younger sister, Genevieve had never thought to worry about taking on the haunting irises that her mother had possessed their whole life. Grimm Blue did not go with her complexion or hair like it did with Ophie’s.
“You have her determination, too,” Barrington said, bringing her focus back to him.
“Ophelia would call it stubbornness,” Genevieve muttered.
He tried to smile, but the gesture seemed almost painful.
A beat.
“What happened?” he finally choked out.
Though her own questions were being barely contained in her throat, Genevieve knew his was a fair place to start. “My father happened. We found out that he entered Phantasma again, and there’s this level…Fraud. The consequence to losing was killing the person you loved most, and he…”
Barrington’s grip on the arms of his chair became white-knuckled, the fury rolling off him barely contained as he snarled, “Is he still alive? Gabriel?”
“Ophelia and I aren’t sure. And neither of us wants to search any longer at this point?—”
“I’ll find him,” Barrington seethed. “I always knew that bastard would be the death of her. She should have never entered Phantasma. It’s why we?—”
He cut himself off, pressing his lips together.
“Tell me,” Genevieve pleaded. “All of it. I want to know, need to know, what happened to make her the way she was. Why she never…”
Loved me?
No, that wasn’t right. Tessie Grimm had surely loved both her daughters. In her own way.
Perhaps it was simply that I could have become anyone, anything, and she still would not have felt about me the way she did about Ophie? That was closer.
“I came here because I was looking for another family like mine,” she revealed. “I thought…I was hoping you might be a Necromancer. And if you had children, at least two of them, I might find someone who felt just as lost as me. My mother told me nothing . She was so strict with Ophelia yet so unconcerned about me. It’s been hard for us both to put ourselves together now that Mother is gone.”
Barrington was quiet for a long moment. Then.
“Tessie and I met when I was doing a job for Knox. I needed the blood of a Necromancer.”
Genevieve’s heart raced. She was finally about to learn something about her mother’s past.
“I was in New Orleans when Knox assigned me the task, and I had heard of the Grimm family through a mutual connection. Your mother hadn’t received her magic yet, but her bloodline was what mattered. And she was happy to help. Your grandmother would likely have been furious to hear that she was helping a Devil’s Familiar. But Tessie was wild and impulsive.”
“My mother?” Genevieve raised a brow. “Wild and impulsive?”
Barrington nodded. “It’s true. It’s why we got along so well, in the beginning especially. We quickly became close friends. There’s an entire decade of adventures we don’t have time to get into. After the Hunt, perhaps. Why don’t you ask your most pressing questions for now?”
“What caused your rift? Why did she enter Phantasma? Do you know anything about the locket she wore? You once wore one that matched it.”
Genevieve reached into the hidden fold of her gown and pulled out the picture. Barrington swallowed as she handed it over, his fingertips barely gripping the edge of the delicate paper, as if he might accidentally ruin the only proof that their friendship once existed.
“This was the last photograph we took together,” he whispered. “Our rift started because she wanted to enter Phantasma. Her Necromancy training was nearly complete, but she still hadn’t received her magic. Still, she insisted on going into that damned competition. Like I said before, the Tessie I knew could be impulsive. But after she received her magic…and her locket…it doesn’t surprise me if she changed.”
“Do you know why her locket was so special? Was yours the same? And why don’t you wear yours anymore?” Genevieve asked.
“The one I wore wasn’t special. Not like your mother’s was, anyway. What do you know about Soul Locks?”
“Soul Locks?” Genevieve repeated, tasting the term in her mouth for the first time.
“They are enchanted artifacts made to collect and contain souls. Only a few beings know how to forge them. The enchantment can be placed on any sort of item, though lockets are used quite often. The locket I’m wearing in the photograph was lent to me by Knox while I completed a piece of work for him. But your mother’s was very different. It was shrouded with magic I’d never seen before, and she was certain it contained something incredibly powerful, something disastrous.”
“Disastrous how ?” Genevieve pressed.
Barrington shrugged. “Nothing she could ever explain, more of a feeling. She said your grandmother had felt the same. It doesn’t surprise me if she became strict with your sister, to prepare her to bear that burden. A great responsibility , she’d called it. The last time I saw her, even when she was about to throw herself into Phantasma, she was talking about how intentional she’d have to be with her first child. How she’d have to train her for the day she took over the locket.”
Genevieve, of course, knew what had happened with Ophelia and her locket. How it had led to her sister’s legacy. Her destiny. She wouldn’t describe that as disastrous .
Or maybe it had been, by her mother’s standards. Releasing the Prince of the Devils was probably disastrous to most people’s standards.
But those people didn’t know Salem. Or they didn’t have his affection, at least.
“Your mother loved you, Genevieve,” Barrington finally spoke again. “I can tell you that with certainty. If she neglected you, it was because of something that weighed on her since long before you were born.”
Genevieve looked down at her hands as she nodded silently.
“But,” Barrington continued, “that doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to be angry with her about it now. Even if she’s gone. You’re allowed to feel that anger.”
Genevieve’s gaze snapped back up to his.
“Sometimes parents make terrible mistakes. And there’s nothing we can ever do to fix them,” he whispered to her. “The least we can do is let you be as angry for as long as you need.”
“Thank you,” she told him, sincerely. She didn’t need his permission to feel this way, but it still felt nice.
“My children are not going to go easy on you in the Hunt,” he said, changing the subject. “I see so much of Tessie in you, though. You and Rowin can win this. But you have to trust him. Don’t let the others get in your head. You should watch out for Grave. He has brute strength and determination on his side. Covin too. Remi and Wells are quiet but clever. Ellin isn’t ruthless, but she doesn’t give up easily—watch her until the very end. And Sevin… Sevin is unpredictable.”
Genevieve committed as much of this information to memory as she could before standing and turning for the door. Right before she left, she paused and looked back.
“Did you ever think about going to find her?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you?” she pressed.
Silence.
Then, “Sometimes I think it’s best not to chase after things. Sometimes all we can do is let them go and hope they come back on their own.”
As Genevieve left the mournful silence of the room, she knew such a thing would never be good enough for her. She’d always want to be found. No matter how many times she ran away.
YOU ARE CORDIALLY INVITED TO KNOX’S ANNUAL MASQUERADE
The Hellmouth opens at six o’clock sharp and closes at twelve o’five. | Anyone that remains in Enchantra after this deadline will be killed on sight.
THE HUNT
All wagers start at one-thousand Soul Coins. | All wagers for the Champion, First Hunter, and First Eliminated must be placed before Midnight at the Masquerade. | All wagers for the Final Two, Most Kills and Favored are flexible during the first six Rounds but must be locked in before the seventh Round begins. The Favored will be announced prior to the Final Round. | Once the Hunting Blade chooses the Hunter at the beginning of each Round, the Hunter will choose which edition of the game they’d like to play. The safe hours begin exactly twelve hours after. | All monitoring will be done through the one-way looking glasses provided with this invitation. Looking glasses must be returned to the Knoxium estate after the Hunt is over.
BETTING CATEGORIES
Champion
First Hunter
First Eliminated
Final Two
Most Kills
Favored
THE PLAYERS
Reigning Champion: Rowington Silver
Gravington Silver
Covington Silver
Remington Silver
Sevington Silver
Wellington Silver
Ellington Silver
THE brIDE
As promised, this year’s Hunt has a very special surprise. Rowington Silver and Genevieve Grimm have said their vows and she will be his partner in the Hunt. All wagers placed on the couple will therefore be doubled. Adjust your strategies accordingly. If Rowington manages his sixtieth consecutive win, this will be his final Hunt. Of course, the last time one of our beloved Silver siblings attempted the marriage loophole, it didn’t end so well, did it?