It was the moment of truth. “Falling from a catwalk, waking up on the floor of an abandoned building, fighting a man in a dark alley.”
Brody visibly paled and his brows furrowed in anger. “How do you know all of that? You can’t possibly know those things. I’ve never told anyone—”
She held up her hand, interrupting him. “No, let me finish.”
Mina’s bottom lip started to tremble. The seriousness of what she was about to reveal weighed upon her. He may hate her for it. She lowered her voice and whispered, “For killing Nan.”
The blood rushed from Brody’s face, and he actually started to keel forward.
Mina instinctively reached up and braced him as Brody dropped his forehead onto her shoulder in an awkward hug.
“In a car accident?” he mumbled.
“Yes, at the lake house. It was raining and you were racing her to see your cousin before he left on tour. You took the turn too fast and flipped your SUV, killing Nan.”
Something warm spread over her shoulder, and Brody’s body started to shake. Mina wrapped her arms around him and let him cry.
The Fae were stupid to think that altering humans’ memories wouldn’t harm them. Here was proof that they were doing more damage than good. Obviously her friends did retain bits of their memories, or the memories surfaced when they dreamed. Truth was the only medicine for the internal hurts they’d been hiding, for goodness knew how long.
A few minutes later, Brody leaned back and placed his hands around her face, brushing a thumb across her lips. “So how much more is true? Were we? Are we…?” he trailed off.
Mina nodded her head. “Yes, once. A long time ago.” She tried to remember what month it was when she’d found out about being a Grimm. “It’s been over a year.”
He nodded and sighed loudly. “I don’t know if I’ll ever understand, but just knowing that you know is comforting.”
“Brody what happened—what has been happening—it may continue to happen to you, to me, to others.” She swallowed nervously.
He stiffened and sat up on the counter and pulled away from her. “No. Nobody should have to live not knowing if what they experience is real or not. I know I can’t.”
“Then you have to stay away from me. Stay as far from me as you possibly can, and maybe you won’t be sucked into my curse.”
Brody’s eyes flashed and he looked at her possessively. “Never, now that I know we really had something. I’m going to continue to pursue that. I won’t let anything come between us.”
Mina’s heart soared before it came crashing down to earth, shattering in a million pieces. “Can you fight your shadow? Something that you can’t see or understand? What I’m in the middle of—this fight—is something that’s been going on for hundreds of years. People get hurt, become pawns, and get tossed aside. Especially those closest to a Grimm.”
“Grimm? You mean like the two brothers?”
Mina nodded her head. “The very same. They were my ancestors.”
“I seem to remember you studying a bunch of books by the Grimm Brothers…at a library…right?” He looked at her expectantly.
Mina smiled. “Yes.”
“Go on…” he waited.
Mina’s eyes drifted to his chest and then to his injured arm that was turning an ugly purple. “Not now. First we need to worry about this.” She stepped away from him, which was harder to do than she thought. She opened the bathroom door and pointed with her head for him to precede her.
Brody slid from the countertop, picked up his bloody and ruined shirt, and walked into the hall. Mina brushed all of the cotton balls into the garbage and screwed the lid back on the disinfectant before walking him to their kitchen.
He probably could have found the kitchen without her based on the horrid smells wafting down the hallway. Mina found Nix wearing her mother’s flowered apron as he hummed and stirred a cast iron pot full of boiling green liquid.
The kitchen was an epic disaster. It looked like Nix had raided the cabinets and left all the cupboard doors open. He was currently going through the spice cabinet, taking the lid off every available jar of natural herbs to smell them. Most he discarded quickly, making a face and shoving them to the right. He did set two or three in a different group. But then he reached farther back, and slid out a few glass jars sealed with wax.
Mina didn’t recognize the unlabeled jars as belonging to her family. Well, not her immediate family. They could very well have been put there by her father—or even her grandfather.
Nix seemed pleased with what he’d found and added them to the boiling concoction. The way he mumbled to himself, tossing herbs in, made him look very much like he was boiling and toiling up some trouble. The brown terra cotta pot that sat in the corner by the kitchen table had been stripped of all of its leaves. She had no idea what the plant was—it had already been in the house when they moved in—but obviously Nix knew.