“Oh yeah, the business you murdered your own family for. Tell me, did the Gingerbread Witch see it coming?”
“Grand Ginger’s passing was tragic, but she did have a tendency to stick her head where it didn’t belong.” Hansel shoots Gretel a glance which she returns with a terrifying grin.
“Yeah, the pressure was too much, and she had a tendency to lose her head.”
I know I shouldn’t egg them on, but I’m so faefucking angry to be back in this position, it overrides my common sense.
“You think your tiny little Gingerbread company is going to make you into something important? My grandma’s business makes yours look like a joke, like an EZ bake oven—tiny, fake, and running off cheap light bulbs.”
Hunger and thirst strike me like whips. A scream tears its way out of me as I fall to my knees, my forehead hitting the pavement. As soon as the pressure eases, I press my hands against the cold asphalt until I can look up at them.
“You can do your worst; I still won’t know whatever recipe it is you are after. I know nothing about her business.”
Hansel scowls. “It’s the recipe for pure power. It’s going to change everything if she distributes it the way she does Magic Morsels. How can she not share that with you? Her precious granddaughter.”
“Because I want nothing to do with power or magic, and especially anyone like you two. I don’t know a damn thing.”
“Then we resort to holding you hostage until the old bag gives it to us,” Gretel says a little too gleefully.
“I don’t know, Gretel,” Hansel says coolly. “I daresay she may still be holding out on us. Let’s make sure.” His open hand closes into a fist and I scream.
I’m not sure if it’s possible for a person to concave into themselves, but I’m certain in moments I’ll be nothing but dust. My vision goes black, and I silently beg to pass out.
The snarl of a pissed off animal barely registers in my ears. Then, like a light switch turning back on, the pain is gone. I gasp and fall on the ground, my cheek scraping against the dirty asphalt.
“What the fuck is he doing, Hansel?” Gretel hisses.
“I. . .I don’t know, Gretel.”
For the first time, I hear uncertainty in Hansel’s voice. I force my eyes to open. They are so dry at this point they feel gritty and everything is blurry. A muscular form stands between me and them. A black shirt falls to the ground next to me.
“Which one of you fuckers wants to die first?” Brexley growls.
“Hansel,” Gretel hisses in panic again. “I can’t use my power.”
“I know, Gretel, but keep trying.”
“Oh, do you both suddenly have a case of impotence? Oh dear.” Brexley taunts. “Why don’t you let me put you out of your misery?” Then I hear the crackling of bones and a savage roar. He takes a couple steps toward them.
Both the mages pull out weapons. Gretel’s is a chain with two blades at either end, while Hansel’s is a longsword.
My eyes flutter shut and I groan even as I hear yelling and fighting. There is the blunt contact of flesh meeting flesh, the whipping of weapons through the air. I can’t move. I can’t speak.
Then I hear the retreat of designer heeled-boots clacking away.
Brexley shouldn’t have chased them off, but I can’t tell him. I can’t tell him they would have fixed me only to break me again. But now, I’m so dehydrated and malnourished, I might not make it. And I can’t even laugh at the irony of wanting to call my tormentors back.
Chapter35
Dame Kiki Eleganza
RED
I’m not sure how long has passed before I’m scooped up into warm, strong arms. The strong, masculine scent of Brexley mingles with the coppery sting of blood. I vaguely register the slickness of liquid on the chest my head is pressed against.
Flesh against flesh, electric sparks still snake through me. But it’s dampened by my current state.
“Fuck, Red,” he growls. “Don’t you fucking pass out.”
