Page 40 of Hansel and Gerhardt (The GriMM Tales #3)

Epilogue

Six Months Later

H ansel swiped a cloth across the top of his enormous dining table one last time, then stood tall to admire his handiwork. The polished oak positively sparkled—there wasn’t a mark on the exquisite finish of that beautiful expanse. It was utterly perfect. Everything was.

Hansel and Gerhardt had escaped.

They’d lived off their father’s remains just long enough to sell the cottage they’d both been dragged up in.

They got very little for the house and land combined, which surprised neither of them, but it was enough.

They dug up the bones of their mothers, they took the horse and cart, and they moved to the thriving city of Hallin, where they interred the remains in a peaceful cemetery.

Though it had taken a great deal of work, several months later, Hansel and Gerhardt had bought their very own apartment in town.

And gorgeous it was, too.

The same tall ceilings Gerhardt had dreamed of. A lounge, handsome rugs underfoot, elegant and dark mahogany walls and floorboards, a gigantic, soft bed all of their own.

Hansel crossed the room to stoke the fire.

The long windows that looked down onto the main square let in plentiful cool and crisp air through the crystalline panels, but he couldn’t bear to shut out such a sight, even with their rich, velvet curtains.

Hallin was a beauty to see, but more than that, the sight of it reminded him that he was safe.

Safe and surrounded by people all the time.

No more isolation. No cutting wood until his hands bled.

No lonely stables to be chained up in, and no riding crop to meet his cheek. Not ever again.

He shook off the memories, both mentally and physically, as he turned and made his way to a cabinet.

He pulled out a handful of long and thick candles, then walked to a lever on the wall to lower the chandelier.

He lit the candles in the fireplace, put them in their holders, then raised the glittering light high.

He’d never get sick of seeing that. The way the fire illuminated one piece of glass, then another, then another, and on and on, until the whole room was ablaze. But he most especially loved the way it sparkled across the surface of their dining table.

Perhaps it had been a bit of an extravagance. The eight seats were hardly necessary, as the two never had anyone over, both as a rule and a preference.

But the long and wide setting wasn’t about that. It was about what it represented.

The two, true to their word, had never gone hungry again. Not once. Here, they ate their meals. Here, they cut up their catches together at night. Here…

Well, he couldn’t ever look at a large table without thinking of that first time with Gerhardt. The way Gerhardt had pushed him down into those many desserts. The way he’d claimed his body and his heart. The first time he’d told him he loved him. And every time since, every single day.

He heard the key in the lock.

His heart leapt.

Gerhardt, beautiful Gerhardt, home from his morning’s work.

Hansel breathed in the aroma of the leg he had roasting in their big black oven. He could tell from the scent that it was almost done. Just enough time for a little glass of wine in the lounge with Gerhardt.

Though maybe once he settled him into his big leather armchair with his drink, he’d have time to do a little something else for him too…

“Hansel?” Gerhardt called from the hall. “There’s someone here who wants to see you.”

A warm laugh broke out of Hansel, and he made for his stepbrother, calling out, “I’ve already told you, it’s too big to fit…”

The words died on his lips as he realised there was indeed someone in the hall who wanted to see him. And it wasn’t Gerhardt’s cute ass.

Gerhardt attempted to cough back the cheeky grin that shone through regardless, though he did have the decency to dip his head in an attempt to hide it. “Hansel, this is Zel. They want to talk to us about a…”

Hansel looked to the guest. They had the face of an angel, spectacularly pretty, with a long and golden braid, intricately woven, thick and lustrous, that ran all the way down to their ankle.

When they smiled, there was a hit of pure sunshine, and Hansel’s immediate reaction was fierce jealousy.

But Zel immediately held out a hand to Hansel and finished Gerhardt’s sentence: “A business proposition.”

Hansel searched Gerhardt’s expression for guidance on how to react to such unexpected words.

Gerhardt offered only a slight nod, his hand falling on his hip, lifting his shirt just enough for Hansel to see the hilt of the blade in his pocket.

Hansel’s jealousy calmed at once.

He quickly wiped his hands on his apron, then took Zel’s proffered hand. The grip came back strong, solid, but not overbearing.

Zel’s head turned mid-shake, quickly, eyes on the knife, then back on Hansel, all in a split second before Gerhardt could even attempt to hide it.

And Zel said, “Let me be frank. I know who you are, I know what you do, and by no means do I intend to get in the way of you doing exactly that. Only, I can offer you even more money than you’re already making to do it. ”

The shock of the words struck Hansel first. They’d been careful with the bodies, hadn’t they?

As if in direct opposition to this slightly drawn conclusion, Gerhardt placed his black bag on the floor.

It gave a disquieting squelch, and Hansel noted a touch of red on the white tiles.

He’d just spent an hour cleaning them, and he wasn’t pleased, but Gerhardt stepped past him, saying to Zel, “This way.”

Hansel followed them through to the sitting room, mostly worried about what this unexpected visitor had to say, but with a good portion of his mind still on the lunch roasting away in the oven.

What little remained of his attention was sorely irritated that his surprise blowjob was almost definitely ruined.

Gerhardt made his way to a side table and poured out a small glass of plum brandy. “Drink?” he asked Zel.

Odd, the way Zel gave a small laugh, almost as if it was a joke only Zel understood. “No. Thank you.” They watched Gerhardt set the glass back down on the sideboard. “The thing is, I don’t entirely trust it to not be drugged.”

Gerhardt’s dark eyes met Hansel’s briefly before they returned to Zel’s. “I assure you, if I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t take the route of a coward.” He threw back the drink to prove his point.

And was swiftly reprimanded by Hansel’s soft, “Lunch is almost ready.”

“Sorry, Hansel.” He pushed the glass away with a guilty crimson about his cheeks. He knew Hansel liked their lunches to be formal. That did not include digestifs instead of aperitifs so close to mealtime.

“Smells delicious,” Zel offered, “though I won’t stay.

” As though either were likely to ask. “Here’s what I’ve come to see you about.

” Both men dipped hands to knives as Zel reached into a coat pocket.

But they stilled when the hand came back out clutching a small hessian bag.

“May I?” This request Zel accompanied with a nod at the coffee table.

“Very well,” said Gerhardt, watching closely.

The bag was placed down carefully with a small tinkle, its binds were loosened, and then it was tipped up.

Gold.

So many shiny, glittering, brightly sparkling gold coins that spilled out all over the table.

Astonishment opened both men’s mouths, but any questions were cut off by their guest’s swift explanation. “You’ve been busy, both of you. And I can see—” Zel gestured at the relative splendour of their beautiful home “—it’s paying you well.”

Hansel, not liking where the conversation was leading, stepped a little closer to Zel. “It’s all fairly earned.”

“That’s right,” said Gerhardt, somewhat less opaque than Hansel when he added, “We work hard for what we have.”

“You do,” Zel agreed, with one of those radiant smiles. They walked to the side table and picked up a fresh glass. “May I?”

Gerhardt gave a slight shrug, while Hansel let out an impatient breath.

As they poured, they spoke on. “You’ve been careful. You’re in and out, no witnesses, no evidence.” Zel turned back to face them. “No bodies.”

“Why would there be bodies?” Hansel asked, though they all knew the jig was well and truly up by this time.

“The problem is,” Zel went on, as though Hansel hadn’t asked the question, “your… ‘clients’, shall we call them—some of the men… You should not be getting involved with them.”

Taking the suggestion as an implication of collusion, Gerhardt said, “We’re not involved with anyone.”

“No. I don’t mean it like that. I know the men you… Well, there’s a pattern, isn’t there? They’re not exactly nice people.” Zel moved to the lounge, sat, and motioned to an armchair.

Begrudgingly, Gerhardt also sat, while Hansel shifted his position slightly so they were on either side of Zel.

Zel kept their cool gaze on Gerhardt. “When you have men who aren’t nice, and who also happen, oftentimes, to be rather wealthy… you’re not the only ones who want those men gone.”

With that, the coin dropped, and Hansel came around to take the other armchair, saying nothing, but so deeply interested now that he was barely thinking about their lunch. Though he was still thinking about it.

“The people who want those men gone will pay a lot of money to make it happen,” Zel continued.

“And if my people get there and the job is already done, they don’t get paid.

And that’s when the target moves.” Zel took a sip of brandy, studying Gerhardt and Hansel as they each kept statue-still on the outside, stomachs churning on the inside.