“No, I saw someone in the projector room. They let off a smoke bomb,” an irritated teenager interrupted.
“I think it was a breaker. An employee messed with the circuit breakers,” someone else yelled out.
Slowly the truth was covered up by so many lies that no one could determine what had actually happened. Finally, the policeman shook his head and walked away, no closer to the truth.
Jared stood up and let out a deep breath. Relieved.
“I take it you’re used to this?” she asked.
“Yeah, but you never know whether or not it will clean up after itself.”
“You mean your brother,” she asked.
He nodded. “Can I see the Grimoire real quick?” She handed him the book, and he flipped to the end and took a look at the pencil sketch of the fight between Ever, Reid, and Mina, and whistled in surprise. “Looks like you two make quite the team.”
Ever raised her chin and stepped between them. “Only ’cause I had to. You were out of the picture, so someone had to help your charge. It’s not a job that I would cherish in the future. So don’t get used to it.”
Brody came up behind them, with an arm protectively wrapped around Nan. “Hey, the police are saying it was just some prank, and no harm, no foul, so we can all go home. The theater is giving us all free tickets to see another movie, once they open up again.”
Nan was blushing profusely at the attention from Brody, and Mina couldn’t help but feel sad and happy for her. The sudden onslaught of danger had thrown Brody into knight in shining armor mode again, and he instinctively reacted and protected his girl. Mina was delighted that he had protected Nan when she was unable to. How could she begrudge them happiness, if that was what they really wanted? Brody would always protect those closest to him—that was his nature. And if Nan was friends with a Grimm, than she would always need protecting, and she couldn’t think of anyone more suited than Brody. Now if only she could convince her heart of it.
The ride home was silent. The gravity of what had happened in the theater caused the air to be filled with nervousness. She didn’t even ask Nan and Brody what they remembered from tonight, preferring to not know how much of their minds had been tampered with by the Fae. She curled up on the back seat and held the Grimoire close to her chest, and stared out the window into the night.
Twice she caught Brody staring at her in the rearview mirror, but she quickly looked away and pretended not to notice. The small notebook grew warm in her hands, and she flipped it open to a blank page and stared in wonder as words began to fill up its pages.
Did you enjoy your date tonight? ~T
The words appeared for a few seconds and then faded into the paper. Teague must be writing in the book on the Fae plan to make it appear in hers on the physical plane. An image appeared in her mind of the dark-haired prince leaning over a golden column in a round room. On the column sat a very large and ancient book. He was looking around to see if anyone was spying on him, and then leaned forward to write in its pages with a white quill.
She scrambled in her purse for a pen and tentatively wrote back on the Grimoire, her heart pounding with adrenaline.
He was a disappointment. I had higher expectations. But I guess I’m hard to please. She couldn’t believe she was doing this, taunting the Story through the Grimoire. She didn’t even know it was possible.
I’ll try harder to meet your expectations next time. And you can be sure there will be a next time…and a next…and a next.
I will defeat you!
There was a long pause, and she thought that he had left and stopped writing. She stared at the page, willing an answer to appear, but nothing came. Finally, when she was about to close the book in frustration, his answer came, written slowly and deliberately.
Then I will look forward to that day when you confront me face to face.
That day may be sooner than you think, Teague.
I wouldn’t expect you to be the one speaking tall tales.
Why did it seem like he was flirting with her? She could have sworn he was smiling when he wrote that, but how would she know? How could she so easily visualize him writing in the book, when she couldn’t see him? Or was it because he was connected to the tales as much as she was that they were connected also. Her stomach rolled in displeasure.
Mina.
She didn’t want to play this game anymore and almost stopped writing completely.
What? she finally answered.
I’m sorry.
For what?