Blind Destiny: Grimm's Circle, Book 7 [retail mobi] (2 page)

“Greece?” Luc repeated nearly thirty minutes later.

“Yes.” Will studied the bottle Luc had given him with a mistrustful eye before lifting it and taking a taste. He immediately put it back down. He’d tried rancid wine in his mortal life that had tasted better than that, he was pretty sure. “There’s a house located in a small village in Greece… Kalo Horio. Some of the locals think it’s haunted. It’s not terribly old, built back in the 1700s. They’ve got a legend they’ve built around it…the seven bloody sisters.”

Luc turned that around in his mind and then shook his head. “Never heard of it.”

“That’s because they invented it.” Rising from the stool, he headed toward the refrigerator and opened it, studying the contents. Junk, he decided. Beer, soft drinks, chocolate milk. For food, there was chocolate, pizza, chips, buffalo wings, hot dogs, bologna. Heaven help him. “Luc, you have the appetite of an adolescent.”

“Yes. And what’s wonderful is the fact that I’ll never gain a pound, I never have to worry about an unsightly complexion, nor do I have to worry about hardening of the arteries, cholesterol, any of those unpleasantries.” He finished off his beer and, without even pausing to aim, tossed it into the recycling bin.

Will blinked. “That’s rather amazing. How do you do that without seeing it?”

“I’ve lived hundreds of years without sight. I’ve picked up a few tricks.” He shrugged. “What does this legend, this house, have to do with us? Are demons causing the hauntings?”

“You’ll have to figure that out for yourself. For now, you’ll have to go see Sina. She’s to work with you on this.”

Luc had been in the middle of getting himself another beer. Now he paused. In the middle of the floor, he turned to face Will. An odd look—one that Will had never seen—crossed his face. He almost looked lost, Will thought.

“Sina,” Luc murmured. “You want me to work with Sina.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Will shrugged. “She’s just the one I know you need to work with. I don’t know why. I do know she’s familiar with the area. Perhaps that is why. You can find her in Las Vegas, I think. She loves that insane city, for some reason.”

“
Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it’s off to work we go…”

I watched, amused as all get out as the little men paraded across the screen. Really, it was the most ridiculous piece of work I’ve ever seen, both now, and the other hundred-and-sixty-three times I’ve watched it.

Yes, I’ve really watched
Snow White and the Seven Dwarves
one-hundred-and-sixty-three times. I love the movie. It’s absurd. I love it for its absurdity. It’s my own fault, I suppose. I’d helped concoct the earliest versions of the tale.

I bet you didn’t know that, did you?

My own story is a little more grim than this, but that’s typical for those like us.

There was a knock at the door. I opened my mind to see who it was—just a fraction, of course, because one could never be too careful. I couldn’t penetrate the mind and that made me frown. There weren’t many I couldn’t read. If I couldn’t read them, that meant they were either like me…psychically gifted, not necessarily a Grimm, or one of the few people with just a natural resistance to psychic probes.

It could be Will, I supposed. Even those of us who are psychic aren’t usually strong enough to block me. Will was one, but it wasn’t like him to knock. He just blew his way in, almost like the big bad wolf. Of course, that’s not who he is. That’s a different story entirely.

If it wasn’t Will, who…?

A face flashed through my mind, followed by a rush of heat. Of need. The skin along the back of my neck prickled in warning but I brushed it off.

No reason for him to be here, now was there?

Mentally chastising myself, I silenced the TV and slid off the bed. Whoever it was, the person had the patience of a saint. There was no second knock. Just silence, but he—yes, it was a man, I knew—continued to wait.

Again, that shiver ran down my spine.

Halfway between my bedroom and the hotel door, I called out, “Who is it?”

“It’s Luc.”

A punch of longing rolled through me like waves crashing against the beach. Luc.

Picture your typical fairy tale prince. Eyes of a perfect blue, a chiseled, handsome face with a cleft in his chin, arched black brows and hair that framed a face so perfect even Michelangelo couldn’t have hoped to reproduce it. A long, lean warrior’s body, a smile that could have made angels weep.

Hell, I knew that for a fact, because he has made me weep. And I am an angel, even if I am somewhat imperfect.

That was Luc.

He was even a prince. And there were fairy tales written about him. I’d helped write them. But I hadn’t done him justice. Couldn’t do that, now could I? If I’d penned the tale the way I wanted to, some of our brothers and sisters in arms might see things I’d rather them not see.

They’d realize things I’d rather they not know.

I don’t think anybody knew, not even Will. A benefit of being of the old ones, since I was nearly as old as he was. He’d respect it if I told him to stay the hell out of my mind, and I could back that up with walls so solid he couldn’t penetrate them.

So unless he was given some of that uncanny knowledge, our fearless leader would never know how I felt about Luc.

Luc.

Luc. A man I dreamed about, a man I longed for. A man who was in love with his own fairy tale princess…and she wasn’t me.

Luc. The last man on earth I wanted to see. Ever.

Composing myself, I detoured by the bathroom. I’d been munching popcorn while I enjoyed the movie. I wasn’t about to greet him with buttery crumbs clinging to my fingers. While there, I checked my face. Yes, I’m vain. Smoothing my hair back into a ponytail, I glanced down at my clothes and sighed.

Not that I’d let myself primp to meet Luc or anything. The black yoga pants and T-shirt would suffice.

Primping served no good use, anyway. This man would never be mine.

He’d never have his lady’s heart, and I’d never have his. Those were facts I’d long ago accepted.

Enough stalling
. With one deep breath, I left the bathroom and made for the door.

I opened it and leaned against the doorjamb, brow cocked. This wasn’t a friendly call, I already knew that.

But I couldn’t see his mind as easily as I could others—he was too well trained for that. I’d been the one to train him.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have done such a good job. A peek inside his mind would have let me prepare myself. And I could have used the advantage.

I never saw this coming…

“What do you know about the seven bloody sisters?”

Then…

“Look at that pasty white face…”

The girl ignored their vile whispers as best as she could. She had known she would not receive a warm welcome in this life. She had not thought it would be this unwelcoming, perhaps, but she had not expected anything pleasant. That, at least, had been a blessing. It would have been a cruelty beyond measure to think she had been given into a marriage where she would be loved, valued, even treated with kindness, only to come to a place where she had known nothing but brutality from the very first day.

Myrsina had known her life here would not be kind. But she had only herself to blame. Her father had wanted nothing so much as to be rid of her. It was all any of them had wanted.

He was well rid of her now, was he not? He was well rid of her and she was here, alone.

“See how she acts as though she cannot hear us, or see us? As though she thinks herself better than us.”

The malice in the woman’s voice was enough to send a shiver down Myrsina’s spine. The hatred that particular woman carried for her was…unimaginable. And Myrsina didn’t understand why. It wasn’t as though their shared husband had any love for her. He cared nothing for her. He cared nothing for any of them. All he wanted was to get them with child. To breed, then move on to the next. His rutting on them wasn’t particularly pleasant, but nor was it particularly painful. There were no sweet, tender moments that he shared between any of the wives.

A fact Myrsina knew all too well.

“I hear she speaks with devils. That she does unnatural things.”

Myrsina tensed as she went to leave the courtyard. Lifting her head, she stared across the gardens as the woman. Their gazes locked and the older woman smiled. It was a cold, ugly little smile, full of hatred and ugliness and contempt. And Myrsina realized the truth. That woman knew; somehow, she knew.

Myrsina eased the cloak she kept wrapped around her mind, lifted it as much as she dared and she chanced a quick look. Quick, she must be quick—one never knew what awful things lurked out there, waiting for a vulnerable soul. Myrsina had seen what happened when those vulnerable ones weren’t careful. She wouldn’t be one of them. She wouldn’t.

But all she saw when she glimpsed that woman’s mind was meanness. A vicious, ugly woman with a shallow, twisted bit of a heart. But still. Just a woman.

Why do you hate me so?

Then she turned away. She would go about her life. And sooner or later, her husband’s other wives would forget their torment of her. It was how life worked, after all.

But she was wrong.

The taunting and jibes worsened, rather than lessened. Cruel words gave way to cruel jabs in the ribs. Myrsina would find herself stumbling on the stairs, and although she knew which of the women had pushed her, when all of them stood together and assured the husband nothing had happened, Myrsina had simply tripped…

Eventually, she kept her words to herself. Even when she was pushed hard enough that she broke her arm, she said nothing.

It became so awful that she rarely wanted to leave the comfort of the kitchen. There, she felt safe. A woman had taken pity on her and in her, Myrsina found something of a friend. It was as she was sipping from a cup of tea her sixth month into marriage that the woman asked her how she was faring.

“You’ve been sick in the morning, child. More and more.”

And Myrsina knew.

Chapter Two

Now…

“The seven bloody sisters are myth,” I told him, turning away and moving to the balcony. It faced out over the fountains and I focused on the play of the water as I reached down to cover my belly.

Many memories of my life have faded. Both my time as a Grimm, and my time as a mortal. I’d only been eighteen when I died—when I killed myself. But I remember that bright and shining moment when I realized I was carrying a child. And I remembered those awful, horrid days that followed when I lost the babe. The only one I’d ever carry.

I also remember the day when I was strong enough to strike back. I didn’t strike back as a mortal woman should have and that was my sin. The one I’d borne for all these years.

I could hear Luc moving behind me and I turned to watch him. Krell stood at his side, but the man didn’t touch the dog, and the dog didn’t touch the man. After a moment, the dog moved, nosing a bit here and there. Getting the lay of the land for his master, I knew. If I had felt like being nice, I suppose I could have offered to show them into the sitting area. The suite was enormous and the sitting area was through the doors to our right. But I didn’t feel like being nice. Besides, if I knew Luc, he’d rather find it for himself. And he could do that just fine on his own. Neither he nor Krell really needed my help.

And they proved it too. Moments later, Krell padded into the sitting room and Luc followed along behind him, his steps sure and steady. Nobody looking at the man would guess that he couldn’t see, that he hadn’t been able to see in more than six hundred years. I hadn’t known him while he had his sight. I’d met him a few years after his change, once it became apparent that his psychic skill was going to be rather…substantial. Then they turned him over to me.

I rather wish they hadn’t done that.

I rather wish I’d never met the man.

And I rather wish I’d never heard of the seven bloody sisters.

“We’re all myths, aren’t we?” Luc asked from behind me.

I glanced at him from over my shoulder. “Some more so than others.” Then I shrugged and went to wander around the room, seeking anything to occupy my mind. The seven bloody sisters. Why was he here asking about them? I could look; if I really wanted to see inside his mind, he couldn’t keep me out. It would damage him, though. That was what kept me out. I wouldn’t do that, not to him.

Other people, it may not matter—I couldn’t care less if I caused headaches…or worse. But I wouldn’t bring myself to harm him.

“So you’re telling me there is absolutely no truth to their existence, whoever the seven bloody sisters are supposed to be?”

I sighed. I could still hear that silly movie playing. And for some reason it bothered me now. Listening to that silly dialog, that overly high voice, followed by the comical voices of the dwarves, while he asked me about the horror that spawned an awful legend. “The seven bloody sisters—no truth to it? Luc, you should know that one person’s truth is another person’s story by now. But no, there is no truth to that tale. It’s simply the ramblings of an old mad woman. She thought she knew the truth, but her mind was so eaten up by insanity she couldn’t have told truth from fiction if her very life had depended on it.”