Page 3 of Looking Grimm (Marionette #4)

I knew exactly where to find Ripley Vaughn, having visited his snazzy hotel suite while he was being held captive by Jax and his goons. So, I didn’t bother with the overly helpful bellman or the clerk at the front desk of the Elite Inn it wouldn’t bring Donovan back. But I’d given up on that. Now I just wanted to feel better.

After filling my lungs with an exasperated breath, I pushed out of the chair and stood.

“You’re right,” I said. “Forget I mentioned it.”

I didn’t have a specific use for the poison-breathing witch, no marching orders to hand out, and no plan, as he aptly deduced. Maybe he was right, and I wasn’t meant to lead. Or maybe spending most of my life taking direction had ruined me for wanting to give it.

My hands fisted as I turned toward the door. I almost wanted to shout and wake Maggie out of spite, but I had nothing left to say.

“You’re going, then?” Ripley called after me.

I rounded on him, finding him on his feet with his arms crossed. “Might as well,” I replied.

Ripley looked aside, his gaze lost in the curtain of his drippy black bangs. “Feel like I kicked a bloody puppy,” he muttered. “An untrained, ill-tempered, feral puppy.”

His gaze traveled across the coffee table to the mug of tea slightly steaming. I wasn’t sure how long we stood there before he spoke again.

“I won’t work with the Capitol.” He shook his head. “Made that mistake already.”

And it landed him in Thorngate for an extended stay, only to be snatched up and returned to the ranks of the Bloody Hex. From there, Grimm used him then cast him out. Left him for dead.

“You don’t have to.” I tried not to sound too eager about what was shaping up to be an unlikely concession.

Ripley swayed on his feet, not meeting my eyes. “I won’t do anything that puts my girl in danger.”

I dipped my head. “I wouldn’t ask you to.”

The zombie girl continued to doze, snoring softly. Ripley’s shoulders sagged as he walked to the bedside and stood over her.

“You helped her,” he said. “Helped me…”

He dragged the backs of his fingers down her cheek. Recalling Nash’s similarly tender touches stirred a sense of longing, and I turned away from the scene.

“Who am I to say you aren’t mental enough to pull this off?” Ripley mused. “Nobody with any sense has managed it. Perhaps it takes a madman.”

I thought to snap back, but hell, the suit fit.

So, I was a madman and a villain. At least everyone knew what they were getting themselves into.

“Fitch?”

I remained in place, facing the door but no closer to it when Ripley’s summons prompted me to glance back.

His lips pressed a thin line as words built behind them. “I am truly sorry about your brother,” he said at length. “If I could’ve saved him—”

“Glad to have you on board,” I said.

With that, I hurried out of the hotel room.