First Frost (16 page)

Lenore laughed. She already knew Bianca had the spell book with her. She could feel its pull—its power. The girl was foolish enough to think that she could trade the book for her mother’s life.

Mistress told me so
.

Lenore thought about the promises that Mirabel had made to her when she decided to attack Rose and steal the book from them ten years ago. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know in order to bring your mother back to life. But…you have to promise me that you will destroy the Frost women. They are the only ones left with Snow White’s blood still running in their veins.”

Lenore had only nodded and agreed to her demands. All she wanted was her mother back. Rose’s estranged mother, Alice, had fought and killed Gertrude before her very eyes. The only thing that helped her sleep at night was the fact that Gertrude’s death curse had fallen upon Alice and had killed her instantly.

She knew that Queen Mirabel had a spell that could bring back the dead. She had spent a year trying to contact her spirit and just when she had been close to giving up, Mirabel had appeared inside her bedroom mirror.

She looked into Rose’s eyes. They were the same shade of emerald green as her mother’s. All it did was remind her of her loss and how much she abhorred Rose and her family and everything they represented. She tried to keep her hatred in check. No matter how much she wanted to kill her, she needed her alive for a while longer.

Mistress said she wanted her alive. But she didn’t say I couldn’t have a bit of fun with her.

“Hungry?” Lenore asked.

Rose didn’t answer. In the three days she since she captured the witch, Lenore had only given her stale bread and dirty water. Lenore was amazed she hadn’t gotten sick.

Lenore pulled a bright red apple out of her pocket. “Here.”

Rose tightened her lips and moved her face away from the apple. Lenore hissed and grabbed Rose by the jaw. She pried Rose’s mouth open and shoved the apple in her mouth. Rose squirmed and spat the piece of apple she had bitten. She could see Rose trying hard to resist the crisp and juicy apple.

Lenore leaned over and whispered into Rose’s ear, “I want you to know…the only reason you’re still even breathing is because I want to see the look on your face when I extinguish the light out of your daughter’s eyes.”

Angry tears escaped Rose’s eyes. Lenore could see the impotent rage in her enemy’s face and delighted in it. Rose shrieked and screamed as she struggled against the ropes that bound her. She knew what would happen to her should Rose break free. The sounds coming out of her were so animalistic, so primal…a mother protecting her young. Well, too bad it wouldn’t do her any good.

“Don’t bother. Even if you do manage to get out of those ropes, you won’t be able to leave.”

Lenore cackled and walked out of the room. She closed the door behind her and then pressed her ear against it.

She heard as Rose burst into tears once she thought Lenore was gone.

“Oh, God, help me. David…I don’t know where you are…if you’re even alive, but please hear me. I need your help. Don’t let Bianca anywhere near this place. This place reeks of envy and death. Please find me…I don’t want to die here.”

Lenore walked away and chuckled. There was no God or any god that would hear her plea. She was going to see to it that she died in that room. Alone. In the darkness. With no one to hear her scream.

Lenore walked into her room feeling good about herself. She had finally gotten inside Rose’s head. To most people, their bedroom was a getaway, a sanctuary. With Lenore’s bedroom, this was not the case. Her bedchamber was more dungeon than sanctuary. Her bed was unmade and dirty. The sheets were tattered and filthy. Her night table was covered with black candles and spider webs. The stone floor hadn’t been swept in ages. Lenore could hear the cockroaches skittering across the floor, hiding from her view.

She walked toward her vanity and stood before her mirror. This was the only item in her room that she kept clean. This was the mirror she used to communicate with her mistress. It had an elaborately designed black frame, with roses, thorns and skulls carved into the ebony wood. She polished the wooden frame carefully every week.

“Mistress? Are you there?” Her dark eyes desperately searched her reflection for any sign of Queen Mirabel.

She studied her likeness while she waited for Mirabel to appear. Her dark brown hair was greasy and beginning to show signs of graying. Her skin was sickly and pale. Lenore was starting to look like an old woman, and she was barely forty years old. Yet Rose, who was the same age she was, looked like she was still in her early thirties.

“Bitch! Stupid hateful, bitch! I hate her! I hate them all!” she screamed. She picked up her perfume bottle and threw it on the floor so hard that it shattered into a thousand pieces.

“That’s the spirit,” a female voice whispered seductively.

Lenore gasped and turned her attention to the mirror. She could no longer see her reflection on the looking glass. All she could see was a tall and lithe blond woman. The air of royalty could be felt even from where Lenore stood. Mirabel had long blond hair that cascaded over her shoulders. She had small thin lips that remained hard and unsmiling. Her dark brown eyes assessed everything harshly as she looked past Lenore and gazed at her bedroom. It was the only time Lenore felt ashamed of the way she kept her room.

“Mistress,” Lenore said and then bowed her head. She struggled to regain her composure but her chest rose and fell rapidly as she fought to catch her breath.

“Have you captured Rose Frost?” Queen Mirabel asked from within the mirror.

“I have.”

“Does she have my book with her?”

Lenore was afraid to answer the question for fear of Mirabel’s reaction to the news. She took a deep breath and said, “No, Mistress. She does not.”

“Damnation!” she shouted. The glass vibrated with her anger. For a moment Lenore though that the mirror would fall to the floor and join her perfume bottle’s fate.

“Why does that family always get in the way of my plans? Why?” Mirabel stomped her feet from one side of the mirror to the other.

“I’m doing everything I can, Mistress,” Lenore replied.

“Get the book, and you will find a way to bring your mother back to life.”

“I did manage to get Rose’s daughter to follow us here. I believe she has your book.”

“Really? Interesting…perhaps I’ll have a bit of fun with her before she arrives.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Wait for her. She’ll come on her own. I know one thing for certain and that is that no matter how hard you try to extinguish them they always find a way to save their own…but not this time…not this time.”

Chapter Thirteen

Bianca sat in the living room hunched over Mirabel’s spell book, trying to figure out if there was anything she could use to her advantage. But after a while, all of the words just jumbled into one another and nothing made any sense. When she had started reading, there had been a lot of great light to read by, but as it quickly got darker she had to use a couple of flashlights in order to see the words scribbled in the book. She couldn’t help but feel curious. She wanted to know what it was that made Mirabel go mad. Why did she allow herself to be seduced by the darkness? What happened that ultimately made her snap? So many questions…never enough answers. A part of her wanted to sit and talk to Mirabel, another part of her wanted to throw the book into the fire and run away as fast as humanly possible.

As she went to turn the page, an angry green spark shot out from the page as though warning her to go no further. The spark stung her in the middle of her palm. Bianca shrieked and pulled her hands away. She quickly inspected her left hand. Nothing. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it was going to burst out of her chest. She had expected to see a burn mark or something along those lines, but her skin was perfectly clear.

What the hell was that all about?

She tried to turn the page once more and was met with the same treatment. When she inspected the palm of her hand again, she found a tiny apple-shaped bruise the size of a fingernail.

“What the what?” she whispered.

She rubbed the imprint on her hand with her thumb, hoping that it would somehow make it go away. She even tried scratching it off with her fingernails but all it did was aggravate her skin. It was dark pink by the time she decided to stop.

Bianca slammed the book shut and placed it back inside its wooden box. She then put the box in her backpack. She did her best to calm down. Bianca thought about going to sleep, but she knew that she wouldn’t have a restful slumber that night. She also didn’t want her tossing and turning to wake up Ming.

So Bianca grabbed her sketch book and pencil. Drawing always had a way of getting her to relax. At first she drew the shape that had now taken permanent residence on the palm of her left hand. But the more she drew it, the more it stressed her out. She thought about Terrance and without realizing it she began to sketch him on a new sheet of paper. She thought about his dark brown, deep set eyes. His square jaw, thin lips, and long brown hair that barely grazed his shoulders. She let herself fall into the soft scratchy rhythm of the pencil against the paper. By the time she was finished drawing his face, she was exhausted and ready to go to sleep. Still…the mark on the palm of her hand haunted her while she slept.

What did it mean?

A ray of sunshine landed on Bianca’s eyes. She turned over and tried to ignore the internal alarm clock that let her know it was time to wake up.

Growl…growl…growl…

What now?
She sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

Her eyes felt heavy, and she had a slight throbbing in her head that she knew would last all day long. She needed to check and see if there was any aspirin in the first aid kit.

“Ming?” Bianca whispered as she gently shook her friend. But nothing she did woke Ming from her deep slumber.

Who am I kidding? I should know better. She sleeps like she’s in a coma.

Bianca quickly got dressed and went outside. Immediately after she stepped out the door, she wished she had put her jacket on.

It must be at least fifty degrees outside. Hopefully it’ll get warmer throughout the day.

Bianca searched for the source of the sound from where she stood. She knew better than to wander off
alone
in the forest. She rubbed her arms and tried to warm herself. Bianca could see the sun peeking through the mountains. The sky was losing the dark inky blue color and slowly changing into a light blue. The cool morning breeze made the trees sway from side to side. They rustled softly, greeting the new day.

“I must be losing my friggin’ mind,” Bianca muttered. She started to turn around to go back inside the cottage. She stopped when she heard the growl once more.

“Okay…that was definitely something,” Bianca whispered. She gasped when she heard the breaking of branches and the ground tremble softly.

“Oh, my God.” Bianca’s eyes almost fell out of her sockets when she saw a huge black bear appear. It was definitely the last thing she had expected to see.

“Help,” Bianca squeaked. She tried saying it a little louder, but it only made the bear move closer toward her.