Free Agent (7 page)

According to Grimm's history books, “Red” was the name the wolves gave her after she dyed her cloak in the blood of an entire wolf clan. Depending which side of the Kingdom Channel you believed, either the wolves were innocent victims who barely even nibbled on Red's family, or horrible monsters who had it coming. The genocide that followed left the wolves scattered loners at the outside of society. Wearing a red hood was a good way to tick off every wolf in the village.

It worked better than I could ever have wanted—they ignored the kid and came for me with howls of rage, barely giving me enough time to change clips. Billy revved the van engine. The fae child stopped at the door, simply staring at the van.

“Get
in
!” I yelled. I ran toward the van, shooting wolves as I went, and lifted him under the arms, tossing him into the seat. My arms burned from the sheer amount of power he contained. I threw the van door shut, and in that instant my months and years of training saved my life. I can't say why I ducked, just that I did. A huge, hairy claw smashed the van window, causing the kids to scream. The van started to roll away and I realized Billy would leave me there in the middle of a pack of wolves.

I'd been left worse places over the years; once in the middle of a stampede, and once at a bagpipe concert where they played “The Sound of Silence.” Garfunkel made me want to tear my ears off, but these wolves would tear my throat out.

I grabbed the trailer gate and swung myself inside. As we bounced down the gravel road the wolves gave chase. A lot of them had already started to eat the pigs, but didn't mind dine-and-dash, particularly when it might mean dining on us.

Billy kept the accelerator all the way down. With every passing step the wolves fell farther behind and I felt better about my impromptu raid. The biggest wolf realized we were pulling away, and instead of leaping at the sides of the trailer or the van, it leaped directly into the trailer with me.

I pointed the gun right at its head and it froze in place. “What a big head you have, Grandma. The better for me to put a bullet through.” It bared its teeth and I pulled the trigger. My gun clicked. A guttural growl that sounded like laughter came from deep inside the wolf, as it pulled back its lips in what I'm sure was a grin.

When it leaped this time I dove forward, letting it go over me and hit the back of the trailer. As I stood I slipped in the muck and almost fell out. Asphalt whizzed by a few feet away, and I didn't have time to reload.

The wolf crouched and sprang at me, and right then, I released the trailer gate. With one arm I held on to the gate while I held the other over my face and throat. It slammed into me and clamped down on my arm right by the elbow. The trailer bounced and we swung out over the road together, me clinging to the gate, it clinging to me. The wolf had my arm in its jaw for a moment, shaking his head and biting deeper. His legs hit the pavement and he was torn away. I kicked my feet back into the trailer and collapsed. Drenched in pig filth, I sat and wrapped my arm, Little Red Bleeding Hood.

WHEN WE PULLED
into the loading bay back at the office I could barely sit still. I'd tried to raise Grimm from the moment Billy let me back in, but when Grimm's busy, he's busy. He'd be upstairs, and I couldn't wait to share our haul. Oh, the regular kids were great, and you could bet most of them would be returned for a reward—cash from the normal folks, Glitter from Kingdom kind—but Grimm wasn't stupid.

If the family couldn't pay up he'd still return the kid. You never know when you're going to need the services of a plumber or funeral director in the middle of the night. Also, if he kept the kid he'd have to feed, house, and clothe it. The real haul was the fae child. I had no idea what the fae would give to get one of their kids back, but it had to be good.

I slapped the front desk as I walked in. Rosa saw me, and her face went flush.

“Hit the mother lode, Rosa. You won't believe what we rescued,” I said as I buzzed myself in. In the lobby a group of kobolds sat in matching bright green uniforms. They came every week and the answer was always the same—Grimm wasn't going to help them form a professional soccer team. As I walked back toward Grimm's office I heard yelling through the door, and Evangeline answering.

I barged into his office without bothering to knock. “You're gonna want to kiss me, Grimm.” I took a lot of comfort in the knowledge that he couldn't.

“You!” he shouted, so loud a crack appeared along the edge of the mirror. “How in Kingdom did this happen?”

“Look, I don't care what Billy told you, I wasn't going to leave them. And I don't know really. I think the wolves snatched him like normal, but how'd they get ahold of a fae child in the first place?”

Evangeline looked at me and shook her head, trying to warn me of something while Grimm disappeared. When he returned, he looked confused. It's not a look I'd often seen on him. He set his face like stone. “Tell me how this happened.”

“The wolves didn't want to bargain, and I couldn't just—” I stopped.

Grimm's jaw was set and he glared at me, while Evangeline kept her eyes on the floor. He wasn't talking about the wolves. “Grimm, what's going on?”

When he spoke his voice was cold and calm. It was the same tone he used to order a nest of poodles destroyed. “Marissa, I'm afraid you are the only one with the answers, but I promise you won't leave my office until I have them as well. Do you know who I got a call from today?”

An idea lit up my heart for a moment. Had Liam been so sad and desperate to find me that he'd managed to call the Fairy Godfather? “I didn't give Liam our number. The only number he has doesn't work anymore.” It didn't as long as I kept the phone off.

Grimm's face remained unchanged, like a statue. “I got a call from the prince's family. They are old royalty, my dear, and they understand the practical matters of my Agency.”

Translation—they knew damn well how we worked, and still let us get the job done. Grimm had probably gotten their permission before attempting the setup.

“He'll give up on me, I'm sure,” I said, but secretly a hope had woken inside me that he hadn't. Maybe he had refused Ari, pining for me. The hair on my neck stood up as I wondered what exactly Grimm would do if that happened.

“I don't think we're going to have a problem in that department,” said Grimm, his voice getting louder again. At this point they could probably hear him in the front office. Grimm shouted, “Seeing as how he's never even met you.” Another crack ran sideways down the mirror, splitting him in two.

My head spun for a moment while I tried to work it out. “He what?”

“It seems he's not upset you broke his heart. He's not swept off his feet by your charms. He had a lovely stroll on the pier and bought two paintings and was back at his apartment by three in the afternoon.”

I held up my hands. “That's not possible. I didn't spend the last few weeks doing nothing.”

His eyes flashed brighter, and he practically screamed at me, “Do you have any idea how this makes me look? How it makes you look? If you didn't want the job, my dear, you should have said so. If you have a problem with our bargain, by all means, speak up.”

Evangeline edged toward the door, doing her best to keep from getting involved.

“Something doesn't add up. I went to the pier, you know that. I met the prince, I did my end of the deal.”

Grimm faded out of view, and a new picture came in. Raven black hair, sharp features with wide eyes. I knew the man. Prince Mihail, the only person I'd ever met who could make a trip to the Kingdom Post Office worse. “Marissa, are you telling me you had lunch and dinner and dancing with this man? If so, someone is lying to me. I hope for your sake it isn't you.”

Nausea crept from my stomach up to my throat, and my mouth felt drier than the desert. I dropped my gaze. I went over that day in my head again and again. The crowds of people at the Pier, Liam. There was no denying it. “No. I must have got the wrong one.”

The air smelled like ozone every time Grimm got furious. “How in Kingdom did you get the wrong person? I checked the auguries, Marissa. There weren't two princes on the pier that day. Only one, and he went right past your table, just as planned. But you were already, shall we say, involved?”

Now that hurt as bad as anything that had happened in the last month. My face grew hot. I knew they would be thinking it was guilt instead of embarrassment. “I went to the pier. I had lunch with a prince, Grimm. I saw the magic on him.”

Grimm put his hand to his forehead and looked down. “He's a blacksmith from the south end. Oh I don't doubt you went down there and had a merry time on my dollar. You blew our best chance at our actual target. The one we are paid for. The man you had your dalliance with is not a prince. He's an artist who makes wrought-iron trinkets and that sort of thing. The only thing magic about him is that he hasn't managed to die of food poisoning. I expect better from you, Marissa.”

I knew that. Grimm expected perfection. Pride made me look back at him, though I know he wanted me to keep my head low. “I have nothing in my life except this job. I have never done less than the best for you.” I knew they could hear me in the lobby, and I didn't care. Let them hear me in the loading dock for all it mattered. “You said find the prince. You said look for the magic. You taught me what to look for yourself. Why don't you come out and say I'm lying?”

Instead he waited in silence for me to calm. “You made a mistake, my dear. You said you were tired of being the wrong woman, and I don't blame you. You said you wanted him for yourself. So I think you were looking for someone more in line with your ideals than the princess's. Really, have you looked at that man? He's not exactly prince material.”

My face blushed even more because Evangeline was in the room. I knew exactly what she'd thought when Grimm introduced me as his new agent, and I never wanted her to see this. “I saw the magic.”

Grimm's face softened for a moment, almost sad. “Marissa, I think perhaps you saw what you wanted to see.”

I couldn't take it anymore. I stood up. Grimm probably thought I was going to walk out the door. Grimm was wrong. I walked over to the wall of weapons and picked up a case the size of a cigar box. Engravings covered the outside, except for a tiny brass plate. The carvings showed a rose in a ring of woven thorns, the standard of the Black Queen.

Evangeline told me about her. She'd been dead for over four hundred years, and folks in Kingdom were still nervous when her name came up. Depending on who you believed, she was either all of the fairy-tale villains in one or the queen of all of them, but whatever she was, she was powerful. Her magic lay in lies so strong they could twist reality itself, becoming almost true.

Grimm flashed into the stainless steel plating on the wall. “Put that down.”

I opened it and inside the velvet interior was an odd thing. At first glance it looked like a gnarled tree root, and in fact the name engraved on the plate said “Root of Lies.” That's not what it was. I knew the truth, and couldn't see it as anything else.

The story goes a righteous prince lopped the Black Queen's head off to put an end to the lies, but she continued to speak. They quartered her, and burned her, and finally scattered her ashes. Some of her wouldn't burn. The thing in the box, it was a part of her. Her hand, to be specific, and once you knew, the roots looked like fingernails, bones, and tendons, if bones came polished ebony black.

I put my hand down into the box, and the thing convulsed, gripping me across the palm. Cutting me. Did I mention it was still almost alive, in the box, after all this time? Grimm used it only to force the truth from the most uncooperative of subjects, because the options were tell the truth or die. If you were foolish enough to tell less than the truth while the Root of Lies held you, thorns grew straight from it to your heart, seeking out the lies. Most people told the truth.

Grimm narrowed his eyes and fixed me with a scowl. “Marissa, don't say a word, not a single word. Put down the Root and we can talk about what happened. There's no need for theatrics.” As he spoke I felt a compulsion overcome me. I did want to put it back, but not nearly as much as I wanted to do this.

I grasped it harder, digging my nails into the blackened bone, and it returned the favor. “I went to the pier.” It rustled under my hand, raking nails along my palm. “I thought he was a prince.” It convulsed underneath me, slicing the top of my hand. “I saw the magic coming from him.” It squeezed my hand so hard I thought it would break, tearing into my skin, then dropped back into the box, rendered lifeless by the truth.

Evangeline let out her breath. I think if he had had real skin, Grimm would have been sweating. He watched as I returned the Root to its shelf. “Well,” he said, “that definitely complicates matters.”