Blind Destiny: Grimm's Circle, Book 7 [retail mobi] (3 page)

Read Blind Destiny: Grimm's Circle, Book 7 [retail mobi] Online

Authors: Shiloh Walker

Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fiction

BOOK: Blind Destiny: Grimm's Circle, Book 7 [retail mobi]
7.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Although he couldn’t see me, he kept his face turned in my direction, and I could tell he was thinking through what I had told him. I hoped he would let it go at that. I should have known better.

Yes, he should know by now that one person’s truth was very often nothing more than a fairy tale. But he also knew how very adept I was at twisting words. After all, I was the one who’d created his story.

“Who was this old woman, then?”

I closed my eyes and sank down on the edge of the bed.

The old woman? She was another one of my sins.

I had many of them. But I couldn’t regret what I’d done to her. Not any more than I could regret what I had done to the wives.

It’s no wonder I’ve never found any real hint of happiness. I lack any true conscience, and a woman like me? I don’t deserve peace. I don’t deserve happiness.

“The old woman. She was a something of a mystic,” I murmured, forcing myself to open my eyes and stare outside. “And in the end, she doesn’t matter all that much to this tale, I can tell you that much. She came along more than a millennia after the so-called
sisters
had already died. The old woman, well, she could sense remnant energies and she was convinced that gave her something of power. She tried to seek out the books.”

I worried the hem of my T-shirt, thinking back to the night when I’d found her the first time. I could have killed her then and never had been bothered by her. Killed her and not felt any guilt. But I hadn’t. I couldn’t even explain why. But she’d been so close to that place; following her was something I simply hadn’t had in me.

I’d stopped her from getting her hands on one of the demon tomes and that had been enough for me. It shouldn’t have been. I should have ended her then.

Blowing out a breath, I rubbed my hands over my face and then looked at him. “She almost had one. I stopped her. If I had been wise, I would have chased her but I didn’t. Because she went to Greece, and that was one place I hated to go. But eventually, I had to follow her there. We always watched those who tried to get the books, you know. And since she’d tried once…”

“She would try again.”

“That was our fear.”

The books. Damnable things. Crafted by demons, beguiling to mortal eyes, the books would seem like one of those silly coffee table or novelty books now. Spells and incantations and shit. Yes, it would
seem
like nothing but harmless fun.

They were deadly. They’d been deadly when they were first crafted, of blood and skin and death and despair, and they were deadly now. I didn’t even know how many were still in existence. We’d destroyed dozens.

But there were more out there.

Sometimes a new one sprang up.

It took a particularly strong sort of demon to craft one and it was a blight we could all feel—a process that didn’t take minutes or hours, but weeks, months. If we could feel it, we could hunt it. Hopefully find it, stop it.

It didn’t always work that way.

The reason so many of them existed is because for a very long while, Will and I had been the only ones on watch. Hard to guard against all evil when there are only two of you.

Even now, centuries and centuries later, we were still doing the clean up.

“So she hunted the books.”

“Yes. With a lot of success, I fear.” I sighed, looked away from him to gaze out the windows at the dancing waters of the fountains. Usually it brought me peace. Joy. Now it just struck me as absurd waste. This entire place, a useless extravagance. “Sometimes I wonder if I didn’t let her live because she
was
so adept at finding them. I destroyed three because of her. Anyway, she had enough power to hear things. Voices of those long gone. And she saw things, things long since past. And she could whisper to those we’d rather not mention.”

Now Luc’s attention sharpened, focused on me. “She could sense them.”

Them
…not the dead. But the demons. He knew, without me saying anything.

“Yes. Every so often, she’d leave and try yet again to get to a book. And she’d be stopped—but sooner or later, I knew there was a risk she’d succeed. The third time, I almost didn’t get to her in time.” I slid him a look from the corner of my eyes. “So I stopped her—I made sure that canny mind of hers was nothing but rubbish by the time I was done. But her power…that lingered. She spent the rest of her years rambling about the energies she sensed. All the folklore from that place comes from her insane ramblings. The place where she tells of the seven bloody sisters—a tragedy happened there once, and she spun this convoluted tale about these women. She said they were sisters and she tells this terrible, heartbreaking story of their untimely death. It’s nothing but rubbish, Luc.”

“Apparently, it’s not. There are people at the place where the legend is supposedly from and they think the place is haunted.” He paused and made a face. “Mortals and their fascination with ghosts.”

I tensed. “What?”

“You heard me.” He pushed a hand through his hair and shrugged. “Will didn’t tell me much more than to seek you out and find out about the seven bloody sisters. That, and we’re to go to Greece. Some fools have a mind to make a documentary and we’re to stop them. I don’t know if there’s any of the demonic involved or not, but he was clear on one thing—we don’t want that documentary made.”

“A documentary?” I stared at him for a long moment and then I turned away, looking outside. Just then, I’d like to shatter the bloody glass and take a flying leap. Except it wouldn’t kill me. It would hurt like hell, it would be all very dramatic and while Will was picking the glass out of my skin, he’d lecture me for doing something so foolish.

My legs went boneless as I thought it all through. A documentary. They were going to make a documentary. About that place.

Where I died. Where I’d lived. Where I’d killed the wives.

And where I’d become.

Fuck.

As my legs gave out from under me, I dropped to the floor and continued to stare outside. This was really happening. I had to go back to Greece.

“Sina.”

“Yes?” I asked distantly. I could handle this. I knew I could. I just had to get my mind in the right place. Separate what I had done, who I had been, the child I’d lost, all of that from who I was
now
. All well and good.

“I would assume, though, judging by what I’m sensing in the air, you know more than you’ve told me. Just what do you know?”

Mortals and their fascination with ghosts. Filming a documentary. There?

Drawing my knees to my chest, I rested my chin on them. “I know that the woman was a lunatic. Beyond that?” Shrugging, I closed my eyes. Perhaps we’d get there and the place would gone. Nothing but a hole in the earth. Stranger things had happened, after all. I was living proof. I’d stabbed myself in the belly and instead of rotting in hell, I was still here.

“Greece,” I whispered. “I assume I’m to go to Greece with you.”

“Yes. And we have to go to wherever this legend was born. You need to tell me more about it, Sina. There’s more to it than what you’ve said.”

As he came around and settled down at my side, unerringly sitting so that he was just a few breaths away, I gazed at him. So perfect. So patient. So not for me. I hated that. Why couldn’t he be for me?

“Sina.”

“Yes?”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Hmmm.” Shifting my gaze away from him, I focused my attention back on the glass. “Oh, I’ve told you everything I can about how the legend came to be. The old woman was born in 1749, died in 1829. I damaged her mind 1804 and she had a quarter of a century to spin tales about whatever she thought she knew. That’s about it for the legend, Luc. Truly. There were no sisters there, Luc. Just an old madwoman.”

He didn’t believe me.

I didn’t care.

There hadn’t been seven bloody sisters.

There had been wives. Eight of them. Seven of them had been terribly cruel, while one of them had been terribly mad.

I had to go back there.

Back to hell.

Back to the place where I had died.

To the place where I’d been reborn.

Back to the place where I’d killed seven women. Where they’d tormented me. Tortured me. Where they’d killed my unborn child…and nearly me.

I supposed there were a few other things I might be less inclined to do. Telling Luc how I felt about him, perhaps. That, and going back to my mortal life—miserable, unhappy years that they had been.

Other than that, I couldn’t think of anything that appealed to me less.

 

 

“What in the world are you wearing on the back of your jacket?” Luc asked, peering through Krell’s eyes and trying to make sense of the odd-looking little man.

Sina craned her head around, as though trying to see her back. Then she laughed abruptly. “Oh, that’s Grumpy. He’s my favorite.”

Grumpy…? Luc frowned. Well, the man did look rather cranky and if Luc looked that way, he’d be rather cranky as well, but that still didn’t explain why Sina was wearing it…wait.

Something trickled through his memory and he managed to snag it, pull it to the front. Seven little men— “You’re wearing one of the seven dwarves,” he said slowly. “On the back of your jacket.”

“Yes, what of it?”

Through Krell’s eyes, he studied her and abruptly, he had the answer. He couldn’t see the colors of her face clearly…dogs weren’t truly color blind, but they didn’t see colors quite as clearly as mortals did. So he couldn’t see if she had lips as red as blood. She was pale, though. And her hair was dark, but was it black as pitch?

“Tell me,” he said. “Do you have lips as red as blood or was that poetic license on your part?”

Sina smiled at him, and while those lips may or may not be as red as blood, they were rather full and Luc felt the punch of lust hit him low in the belly. It wasn’t altogether unpleasant, but it was unwelcome. Shielding his mind, his thoughts, his
everything
against her, he continued to wait as she sauntered toward him. “Well, Luc…you can see me; can’t you tell?”

There was a challenging look on her face.

Almost anybody who knew Sina would understand that look.

It was a look that said,
Don’t ask…forget whatever you think you know
.

“You sit in here and watch
Snow White and the Seven Dwarves
,” Luc murmured. “You wear one of those silly little cartoon characters on the back of your jacket. So many of us try to distance ourselves from those silly stories you fabricated. But you seem to embrace it.”

“Do I?”

Sina continued to watch him. He was no longer able to see her face now. Krell was sitting at his side, giving him the disconcerting view of staring upward at her chin…and over the enticing swell of her breasts, the flat plane of her belly, long legs…

Breaking the connection with Krell, Luc placed himself once more back into the darkness, he said, “Tell me, Snow White, were you chased by a woodsman? Threatened by a wicked stepmother?”

Sina laughed. Then she turned away. He felt the passage of air against him, the slight lessening of her presence.

“Trust me, Luc…I was the threat during my mortal years. It wasn’t some foolish, yet noble woodsman, it wasn’t a selfish or vain stepmother. I was the villain of my story.”

Something brushed against his mind and then he felt a whisper deep inside.
And if you do not believe that…simply take a peek inside my memories…and see it for yourself.

She didn’t wait for him to look.

She showed him just a glimpse…only long enough for him to see the blood dripping from her fingers. Only long enough for him to hear the screams as they bounced off arched walls of stone.

Then she pulled her mind from his.

Luc staggered. Krell pressed his solid, sturdy body against his leg and Luc reached down, steadied himself against the big dog’s weight. Sina had left.

Sucking in a breath of air, he fought to clear that image from his mind.

But he couldn’t.

It was there, etched upon the surface of his mind.

Because Sina had wanted it there. She hadn’t wanted him to forget.

Will, what have you gotten me into?

Chapter Three

He stirred.

The darkness. The blackness. It was still there.

That did not concern him.

There was evil, though…and that drew him. Cloying and thick, an old, familiar stink, something he had sought time and again. But he had yet to succeed at finding it.

As he pulled himself back into the world, he searched for it. Scowled when he found it. Nothing had changed. He still couldn’t reach it.

Even as he was ready to retreat, though, he stilled.

Something new. Something different.

Something…other…calling to him.

 

 

“What have you gotten us into?”

Natasha Curry ignored the men and women behind her as she shoved her hood back and studied the towering monstrosity of a house.

Other books

Scream, You Die by Fowler, Michael
The Canyon of Bones by Richard S. Wheeler
Some Sunny Day by Annie Groves
Dorset Murders by Sly, Nicola;
Pride's Run by Cat Kalen
First Time Killer by Alan Orloff, Zak Allen