Reign (An Unfortunate Fairy Tale, #4)(2)

“What if I just sneak in a few juicy tidbits?” Mina rolled over and forced a smile at her mother. “Can I tell them how they had to cross-dress to complete Hansel and Gretel?”

“Absolutely not, Wilhelmina Grimm. You are just asking for more trouble.”

“Okay, what about my name? Can I finally tell someone I’m a Grimm?”

Her mother let out a disgruntled sigh. “You know why we hide who we are.”

“What’s the point of hiding when every Fae in the world knows we’re here? I mean, we are in a magic house.” Mina sat up, crossed her legs, and gave her mom the dreaded teenager stare, the—you know I’m right—stare.

Her mom tucked her hair behind her ear. A small golden bracelet dangled from her wrist, and two charms now hung on the bracelet. The first, a small gold elephant, was a charm of forgetting. Her Fae Godmothers had put it on last year to help her mom forget about her brother when he’d been kidnapped by a Stiltskin. The second charm was new. A small golden bell dangled next to the forgetting charm, and Mina knew she would have to ask Mrs. Wong about it when she saw her next.

“No, Mina, you can’t tell anyone about your last name. I know we’re no longer hidden from the Fae, but we can’t risk bringing more trouble down on us.”

“Fine, I’ll go to school and give the report, but don’t expect me to get an A on it or anything,” Mina said. “I hate standing in front of people and giving speeches.”

Her mom leaned over kissed her head. “Okay, but you better at least pull a B minus. After all… you don’t want to disappoint your ancestors.”

Mina scrunched up her face. “Sure, whatever.”

Her mom left the room and the door closed with a soft click. Mina got out of the huge four-poster bed and made her way over to the dresser. It still took some getting used to, the large house, which had apparently belonged to all of the Grimms before her and changed according to the new owner’s needs.

After she’d saved Charlie and lost Jared and crossed back over from the Fae plane, the world had righted itself. At least as much as the Story and the Fates allowed. She still wasn’t sure who’d pushed the magic reset button this time and covered up Charlie’s death.

The fire had still happened. The Wongs lost their restaurant and the whole building still came down, only in the new version, Charlie never died—or was never presumed dead. He got out of the fire and they all moved into the Grime Mansion. Or that’s what Nan continued to call it.

When Mina was finally dressed, she grabbed her jacket and a fun colorful scarf and headed down the hall. Charlie was standing on a chair, trying to drag a large suitcase from a shelf in the hall closet. Mina reached up and helped pull the large case down, but it slipped out of her hand and crashed to the ground, spilling the contents onto the floor.

Charlie jumped at the opportunity and began to dig excitedly into the pile of odd clothes and hats that all looked to be decades old. There were scarves, vests, purses, and few odd knickknacks.

Charlie pulled out a pinstriped suit vest and pulled it over his head without buttoning it. He saw an old hat and reached for it, but when his hand touched it, he looked like he flickered out of focus for a moment. Mina’s breath caught in her throat and a trickle of dread raced through her body, causing the hair on her arms to stand up. She snatched the hat out of his hands and threw it back into the suitcase.

Charlie’s hands flew in anger as he signed his displeasure and made a face at her.

Mina’s hands shook as she tried to close and lock the suitcase, but a long feminine blouse hung out, preventing it from closing properly. Opening the case, she shoved the blouse back in and forced the clasp shut until it clicked. Then she proceeded to put it back on the top shelf in the closet, being sure to push it to the far back and out of her brother’s reach.

Once she stepped off of the chair and closed the door, she turned to give her brother her full attention.

“I know. I know. You wanted the costumes out of there.” Her brother was the greatest kid, mute since birth, smart as a whistle, and unique in a variety of ways—one being his penchant for expressing himself in a bevy of weird costumes ranging from villains and superheroes to anything bright and shiny. Currently, he was dressed to impress in a Flash t-shirt, the vintage pinstripe vest, and Bermuda shorts—complete with cowboy belt, holster, and boots.

Glaring, he stomped his foot in challenge. He widened his stance and wiggled his fingers over his holster, inches from the toy gun. The last thing she wanted was to play along, but she would do anything right now to keep him away from a repeat of whatever had happened before, and that meant she needed to keep him away from the closet.

Mina frowned, pretended to dip her imaginary hat in acceptance of the duel, turned around, and placed her back against her brother’s. One step at a time, they each took five paces toward their end of the hall.

Charlie’s boots clicked on the hardwood. They paused.

Mina spun around, her finger held out. “Bang!” she yelled, seconds before Charlie’s toy gun was pulled from the holster.

He gripped his side in mock injury, flung the plastic revolver to the side, and crumpled to the ground in one of the most dramatic death scenes a nine year old could muster. Right down to the twitching right leg and the hand splayed out in a final act of farewell. When his breathing stopped and his eyes closed, Mina used the chance to escape by jumping over Charlie’s prone form and running for the front door.