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Chapter Thirty-Four

S erena stared at the book in her hands.

It looked so inconspicuous, so unthreatening.

It was hard to believe that opening it had changed her life so dramatically.

She ran her hand over the cover, trying to suppress a shudder at what she was about to do.

If she was being honest with herself, she wasn’t even sure if this would work.

They had never tried to summon Lore before, for good reason.

Swallowing hard, she picked up the book and held it aloft.

“All right Serena, here goes nothing. ”

Opening the book, she read the words that had changed her life forever.

“Once upon a time, there were no Happily Ever Afters.”

At first nothing happened, and she was ashamed to feel a trickle of relief run through her. She tried to quash it, reminding herself that she needed to do this for Grim’s sake. And then she felt it. The familiar oily sensation that accompanied Lore’s magic.

A flash of green light, and there he stood, a demon made of smoke and shadow.

“Well, well, well, Miss Serena Rose,” he murmured. “It seems like you still possess the ability to surprise me.”

She had expected him to be angry, enraged even, after the last time they had evaded him. But all he did was look at her, his head half-cocked in what looked like amusement.

“So,” he purred, “to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Ignoring how her skin crawled with his approach, she held fast.

“I want to know if it’s possible to release Grim from the curse.”

He halted his approach and fell silent. When he next spoke, his voice held a tinge of displeasure, as if he did not like that this was what she had called him out for.

“He invoked the right of Accompaniment,” he replied sourly. “It would go against the curse rules to disallow him from accompanying you on your journey.”

“But can you do it?” she pressed.

“Perhaps.” The oily tinge was back in his voice. “But what can you offer me in return?”

“I—” She tried to think of something and failed. Lore tsked at her silence and turned to peruse the papers on her aunt’s study .

“What a charming little place,” he murmured. “Is this where you grew up, young Serena? The air in here—it smells so familiar, just like her.”

“Her?”

Lore gave a little jolt, as if she had startled him out of some reverie. Nevertheless, he did answer her. “Arcana, of course.”

She narrowed her eyes; this was the second time the immortal had mentioned Arcana, and she was starting to feel like there was some very big clue she was missing.

“How exactly do you know my ancestor?” she asked.

“Nerida hasn’t told you?” Lore chuckled. “But of course not. Why would she, when it is one of the biggest failures of her miserable life.”

“Why do you hate her so much?” asked Serena, for there was pure unadulterated loathing in Lore’s voice every time he talked about the queen.

“Why would I not?” he seethed. “That woman is nothing more than a pitiful old hag who masks her misery and jealousy behind a wall of self-righteousness. I could have been happy, you know,” he said, his voice taking on an almost faraway tone, as if he was thinking of something… or someone. “I was in love, once.”

Pieces clicked into place in her head.

“You think I don’t know love?” hissed Lore. “I have known love, boy. I have known it for all of its treacheries and trappings.”

“ If you think what I do is manipulating,“ he hissed, “go ask your precious Faery Queen how exactly Arcana died and what she wants from you.”

“Arcana?” he rasped. “No it cannot be—you are not…but the resemblance. You, girl. What is your name?”

“You smell just like her,” he whispered. “Like sugar and light and spring. ”

“You were in love with Arcana,” she whispered, her heart thudding. “And you blame Nerida for her death.”

It made sense why he had reacted the way he did when he first saw her.

The cryptic remarks about her magic, the way he loathed any displays of emotion between her and Grim.

Her stomach turned when she realized that was probably one of the reasons why he was so fixated on her, it was not just about sending a message to Nerida.

He was treating her as a stand-in for her ancestor.

He had stiffened with her whispered proclamation, and he slowly turned around and simply looked at her.

Shaking off her feelings, she reminded herself that this was not what she had summoned him here for.

Refusing to let him see that she was quivering, she gripped the book in her hands harder and addressed him again.

“What do you want from me?” she asked, her voice strained.

“What I want?” he asked. “Oh there’s so much I want, little rose. But are you ready to give it to me?”

“Yes. I’ll give you whatever you want, just swear you’ll let Grim go in return.”

He was right in front of her now, his shadows curling around her, the wrongness of his magic causing bile to rise up her throat. A tendril of darkness curled around her cheek, making her want to run away, far far away, preferably into Grim’s arms.

Grim. That’s right, she needed to remember that she was doing this for him. An image of her aunt’s blood-soaked body appeared in her mind, and she steeled herself. There was no way she was letting Grim put himself into any more danger for her sake.

“Perhaps I will take a taste in payment.” He breathed into her hair. “You have such a delicious soul. So pure, so good. Just begging to be violated with darkness. Yes, a taste would be nice, especially since you just agreed to pay.”

“Stop it,” she said, her voice unsteady.

“Stop? But I thought you wanted to save your little friend.”

She stared at the immortal, dread curling in the pit of her stomach as she realized the mistake she had made.

Black waves of raw evil swept around her, as she felt her head spin.

Blackness crowded her vision, as she felt something invade her head, searching, taking.

It was as if someone had rammed open the doors of her mind and were ransacking the place.

There was an agonizing pressure on her brain, as if her very thoughts were being pulverized and oh stars, it hurt, it hurt so bad.

She barely even registered the scream that she let out, as the darkness proceeded to violate her mind. Her chest began to burn, as the curse also took its fill, the attack on her mind tearing down whatever defense the crystal had against the spell.

Distantly she heard loud footsteps and then banging on the door.

“Serena? Are you in there?”

More banging, this time more urgent, as if whoever it was on the other side was desperate to get in. The doorknob rattled, as Grim continued to call out her name, his voice growing more and more frantic.

“Serena? Answer me right now. SERENA!”

The hammering grew into a crescendo, and then there was a loud bang that signalled that the door had been broken down. She heard an enraged roar, and she knew that Grim had spotted her where she lay on the floor, surrounded by Lore’s darkness.

“I’ll kill you,” came his voice, low and deadly. “It was a mistake for you to come into this world.”

The darkness around her disappeared, and Lore laughed, although she heard a tinge of unease in it .

“You can’t kill me,” he said. “I still need to remove her curse.”

There was a cry of pain, and an angry shout from him, and then Grim’s voice sounded again.

“I may not be able to kill you,” he growled, “but I can hurt you,”

Lore screamed again, and then the room spun with magical energy before it disappeared.

The next thing she knew, Grim was gathering her in his arms, murmuring soothing platitudes as he stroked her hair.

Ugly sobs broke from her chest as the full extent of Lore’s actions and the ravaging of her mind registered.

“You’re safe, you’re safe,” whispered Grim, rocking her back and forth. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

“I can’t believe you would be that stupid.” Grim paced the living room for the hundredth time.

She stared at him, shoulders straight and defensive. A few hours after the debacle, once Grim had made sure she was all right and none the worse for wear, he had unleashed his rage.

“It wasn’t stupid,” she muttered, under her breath.

Unfortunately, the dratted man had excellent hearing.

“Not stupid?” he snarled. “Not stupid? You thought it was a smart idea to reach out to the man who has been making our lives hell and say, good day, sir. I was wondering if you could help us? Why did you think he would help you? Out of the goodness of his heart?”

“Of course not!”

“Then tell me, what did you think would happen? Did you not think he would ask for something in return?”

Anger welled up inside her, and she jumped to her feet .

“I knew he would ask for something, and I knew it might be a risk. But I was willing to give him whatever he wanted if it meant keeping you safe!”

He crossed the room toward her in long strides until he was towering over her. His dark eyes flashed with emotion as he rammed his fist on the wall above her.

“Keeping me safe?” he asked in a low angry voice. “When did I ask you to keep me safe?”

“You may not have asked for it, but I refuse to be beholden to you like this! You cannot keep putting yourself in danger just for me. I won’t allow it!”

Maybe she had gone too far, she thought, as she saw his brow lower, and his scowl deepen.

“Beholden to you?” he asked in a low deadly voice. “Is that what you think this is? That this is something I hold above your head that I will someday demand repayment for?”

“No, that’s not what I—”

“Or do you imagine that I am in this out of some goodness of my heart, that I am some godforsaken saint that is doing some duty out of pity or honor ?”

The point hit too close to home, and she averted her eyes before he could see that he had hit the nail on its head. It was too late though; he had already clocked her reaction and his eyes narrowed. His hands reached out and grabbed her shoulders, tilting her back to look up at him.