No Prince Charming: Grimm's Circle, Book 2
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Her Happy-Ever-After has been a long time coming…
Grimm’s Circle, Book 2
Elle spent years trying to get over her so-called Prince Charming, and she’s finally getting the hang of it. A Grimm—a guardian angel with unique gifts—she spends her nights trolling for demons and kicking ass, and lately, her days have been spent with her on-and-off-again lover, Ren, a fellow Grimm. But fate has other plans in store for Elle, plans that include Michael, the prince from her youth who broke her heart.
“What do you choose…live for her? Or would you rather die?” That was the choice Michael was given all those years ago. Although he knew she’d never forgive him, when Michael was given the chance to become a Grimm, he took it. Still, he isn’t so sure Elle needs him in her life. With a lover at her side and a mission before her, Elle looks like she’s doing just fine without him.
But the not-so-charming prince isn’t going to back off that easily…not if there’s a chance she might need him again. He’d do anything to save her. Kill for her, live for her, die for her…
Warning: This dark, twisted version of Cinderella involves demons, deceit, desire, and debauchery between a princess and two sexy guardian angels, both determined to win the fair Cinderella.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520
Macon GA 31201
No Prince Charming
Copyright © 2010 by Shiloh Walker
ISBN: 978-1-60504-886-4
Edited by Heidi Moore
Cover by Kanaxa
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: January 2010
www.samhainpublishing.com
No Prince Charming
Shiloh Walker
A Time to Heal
Sometimes his job absolutely sucked.
Will stared sightlessly into the distance. In his mind’s eye, he could see her face, see the broken girl he had nursed back to health all those years ago, the girl who had become his lover for a time. The strong, confident woman she had become…the woman he had fallen in love with.
She had settled inside his heart, quite to his surprise, and he realized the vague, itchy feeling swirling inside him wasn’t concern.
It was jealousy.
She wouldn’t be his.
Of course, he hadn’t ever thought Elle would come back to him, but there were nights, long, lonely nights when he had hoped.
Those hopes were crushed now.
She wouldn’t be his.
She had never been his.
No… Elle’s heart now, and had always, belonged to her so-called Prince Charming.
Will smirked, knowing how much that moniker annoyed a certain man. “I only wish I had thought of that one,” he murmured, stroking his medallion.
It pulsed under his hand and he sighed.
“I know,” he said quietly. “I know. It’s her time.”
The medallion pulsed again, stronger. Hotter.
Will grimaced. But then he nodded and added, “Yes, his time as well.”
Lucky bastard.
Chapter One
A cool wind whipped across the parking lot, carrying with it the acrid stink of smoke, the earthy tang of sweat and sex…and a miasma of death.
Not physical death. No, this was worse. Death of the soul, of everything that makes you who you are. Oh, the body will die. But the body dies anyway. The soul doesn’t have to, unless you give it away.
The soul can go on. It’s meant to go on. People aren’t supposed to give their souls away. But they do it anyway.
Though people didn’t realize it, that’s what was going on. Inside that club, people gave away their souls or their bodies or both. I could feel it.
Idiots. There was a line winding around the front of the building, all these fools vying to get inside—there was fun to be had, after all. Dancing. Drinking. Maybe even some drugs, for those looking to score.
A party.
But the real party wasn’t on the main floor.
“Are we going inside or what, Princess?”
I glanced over my shoulder at my partner for this current job and gave him a halfhearted smile. Ren was one of my best friends, and as such, he could get away with calling me Princess without the threat of bodily harm. Come to think of it, he was the only friend who called me that.
I didn’t have many of them and most of the good friends I did have wouldn’t call me princess just because… Well…they knew. At least, they knew enough. It was a nickname that brought back terrible memories.
The first time I’d been paired up with Ren he had caught my hand and pressed a courtly kiss to my knuckles. As he stared at me over my hand, he’d murmured, “I must call you princess. Or perhaps empress. No…goddess. I’ll call you goddess.”
“How about just Elle?” I’d suggested.
“No. Too simple. Too mundane. I need something to remind me that I am in the presence of magnificence…perhaps it will keep me from making too big a fool of myself.”
The other man with us had given a sigh of long-suffering patience and then, that patience at an end, he’d cuffed Ren across the side of the head. “You’ve a job to do, remember. If you can get it through that daft head of yours.”
Looking back, I remember how those words had worried me. The last thing I’d wanted to have to work side by side with was an idiot.
But Ren wasn’t an idiot. I’d learned that quick enough. Before that job had ended, we were friends.
By the time the next job was dealt with, we were lovers.
The on-then-off-again relationship was one of the few constants of my life. At any time, I knew I could go to Ren, find welcoming arms, a warm body, a lot of pleasure…and a decided lack of pressure. I’d drift away and he’d always be there—waiting until I drifted back.
His presence in my life was a comfort.
Sad, that. He’s an amazing lover and the best thing I can say about him?
He’s a comfort.
Like a beloved old blanket. I grimaced. Ren would utterly despise it if he knew that was what he meant to me. It was more than that, of course. But still…
“Well?”
Sighing, I said, “We might as well go in.”
Ren cocked a brow. It was black, black as midnight, arching over eyes the same intense dark shade. His skin was swarthy and dark, his scalp smooth. He’d been that way for as long as I’d known him and I’d spent enough time around him to know that he wasn’t taking a razor to his head every other day.
“Don’t sound so anxious, lovie,” he drawled, his mouth quirking up in an amused smile. “If I didn’t have a healthy ego I might be a bit…concerned.”
I opened the door and climbed out. He did the same and I looked at him over the roof of the car. “Concerned about what?”
“How not excited you are about walking into a sex club with yours truly at your side ready to do your every bidding.” He wagged his brows at me as he brought his arms up, resting them atop the car. He dropped his chin down to rest on them and gave me a winsome s
mile. “So, my pretty little poppet, are you going to surprise me with a whip? Some chains? A simple pair of handcuffs?”
I rolled my eyes.
“We’ll hold off on the props for now. Remember, we’re just here to investigate.”
“Oh, now you really don’t believe that,” he said, his voice sardonic.
No. I didn’t. Investigation might be the official reason, for now, but it wouldn’t be an investigation for long.
For now though… “Investigation, darling. Remember that.” As I pushed away from the car, I smirked at him and added, “Besides, investigation or elimination, it doesn’t matter… Sex clubs are not my thing. It’s a job.”
“Well, damn.” With a forlorn sigh, he shoved away from the car.
Let it not be said that the man didn’t get into his role.
There was a line of people just waiting to get in and we hadn’t been in that line forty-five seconds when he started…well, feeling me up.
I’d been watching the others around us without appearing to do so, and I already knew these people were not the shy type. They weren’t afraid to be seen, and they certainly weren’t afraid to look.
I was standing with him at my back when he rested his hands on my waist, easing me closer so that I rested against his chest. He pressed a kiss to my shoulder and then he murmured against my ear, “We might as well blend.”
That was all the warning I had before his hands came up, cupping my breasts. Warm hands…hard. Strong. He knew exactly how to touch me and despite the fact that I was extremely self-conscious, I didn’t have to fake the pleasure as I arched into his touch.
I loved the way it felt when he touched me. I had no reason to pretend about that.
I just had to pretend we weren’t being watched.
***
We didn’t make it into the club that night, but that wasn’t a big surprise, at least not to me.
“We’re at capacity.”
That was the line we were given when we finally got to the door.
Ren looked disgusted. I felt the same way.
At capacity, my ass.
On our way back to the car we saw him let in a few others. This wasn’t exactly the sort of club I preferred to frequent, but clubs like this, whether they were sex clubs or not, tended to be very insular. We’d have to either find somebody to get us in there or hang around until we gained admittance.
“We’ll just find somebody to get us in tomorrow night,” I told him as we headed back to the car.
He opened the door for me but before I could duck inside, he slid his arms around my waist.
“How bad is it in there?” he asked quietly.
I looked over his shoulder back at the club. I lifted a brow. “Can’t you tell?”
He shrugged. “I feel so much demon activity that it feels like I’ve got a hive of fire ants crawling under my skin. But it’s not just demons we need to deal with here, is it?”
“No.” Sighing, I dropped my head onto his chest. When his arms tightened around me, I let myself relax and snuggle against him. He stroked a hand down my back, resting it just above the swell of my ass. The wind tugged and played with the hem of the short, flirty skirt I’d worn but as long as I stayed close to Ren, I was warm.
Unless I started thinking about what waited inside that club.
“It’s too late for some of them,” I whispered.
Too late.
But then again, that wasn’t anything new.
***
Back again.
Damn it, this time we were going to get inside that damn club no matter what.
We’d taken last night off, pretty certain we’d come over a little too eager if we camped out three days running.
“Relax, Princess,” Ren said, resting his hand on my leather-clad knee as I put the car into park. “We’ll get in there.”
I made a face at him and tried to work up the enthusiasm to head inside so I could find the real party—and crash it. I didn’t want to be here. Especially not tonight.
I couldn’t understand why, but something inside me wanted me gone.
Back away…slowly…and nobody gets hurt.
That’s what I wanted to do—back away. Actually, I wanted to run away.
Instead, I climbed out of the car and met Ren at the back. He smiled at me and stroked a finger down the chain I wore around my neck. It carried a simple medallion, one tucked between my breasts. I’d known what I’d be wearing tonight and I’d taken the precaution of wearing a longer chain, tucking my medallion inside the low-cut, tight-fitting bodice.
It just wouldn’t do for it to come out and catch the wrong eye.
“Come on,” I said with a grim sigh. “Let’s get this done.”
The sooner we finished, the sooner I could get out of here.
I needed a break…a break away from the job, from Ren, from everything.
Through the mess of bodies, the layers of concrete and the distance between us, I could feel them.
Succubi. Incubi. They were responsible for this little party. Who was the leader?
Succubus, incubus, it didn’t matter—they all functioned the same. The lesser demons acted like drones and their sole purpose in life was to have sex as often as possible—it was their food. And the king or queen would feed through them. On occasion, when they found a tasty morsel, a king or queen would take a human, but they usually just let their drones do the work for them while they lay back in a semi-stupor, drunk from the sexual energy they absorbed.
And damn, there was a lot of that energy here. I hadn’t even gone inside and I could feel it.
By my admittedly jaded eyes, there were a good three hundred people crammed inside a building meant for less than half that—at the most. I might not have seen inside the building yet, but I could feel them, sense them. After so many years of doing this, I’d developed a pretty good radar for the job.
A lot of people. All of them young, all of them looking to party.
Ripe pickings for the likes of the succubi and incubi.
The wind was cold again. Or still. It wasn’t like it had warmed up an awful lot since the first night I’d been here—that was actually about ten days earlier, when I’d first landed this assignment. I’d waited a week to get started. The one look I’d gotten of this place had assured me that I didn’t want to do this one alone and I’d had to wait a week for Ren to show his face and act as backup.
I barely managed not to shiver and wished I could have found something a little less revealing. Something warmer.
It was early May, but right here on the edge of Lake Erie, it was still cool.
This was not where I wanted to be.
Honestly, I really don’t understand why anybody would come to Sandusky, Ohio, of all places, unless they had to. Or unless they were some of the strange people who flocked to the nearby amusement park to have their brains scrambled on the metal behemoth monsters. Roller coasters. Why in the world somebody would choose to subject themselves to that, I’d never know.
Now I’m not into roller coasters and all that, but I know some people love them. Other than the amusement park, I can’t see the appeal. There’s the lake, but I’m not exactly the outdoor-girl type. There’s not much shopping, although there is a decent Borders, so at least I’d been able to pick up some books.
Still, I can’t see the appeal of the tourist town. I just can’t.
Ren though, had spent last night at the amusement park. I’d declined. Going into someplace packed with people and big metal rides that made you move way too fast? Not my idea of fun.
There wasn’t much here to grab my attention, but I could see why it seemed to do so for the demonic.
It was the life.
The pulse, the throb, the rhythm.
The demons were drawn to the life.
“We’ve got to get inside tonight,” I told Ren. Halfway across the parking lot, I picked up my pace. “It’s getting darker in there. We’re going to lose more if we don’t move so
on.”
There was so much life…so much emotion.
Lust. Anger. Jealousy. Need. Love. Rage. Hatred.
Emotions—uncontrolled emotions drew predators. That’s why the demons were here. Wherever there were people there would be emotion. And wherever there was emotion there would be demons.
Wherever there are demons there would be Grimms.
There would be us. Unlikely guardian angels trying to keep the unsuspecting mortals from making bad, bad and worse mistakes.
That was our job. We would do it. We would do the job. We would deal with the succubi and incubi. We would find the king or queen and eliminate them. Then Ren or I would hang around long enough to make it clear this area was now under the Circle’s watch.
If I had my way about it, it would be Ren hanging around. If at all possible, I wanted to clear the hell out the second we dealt with the king or queen.
I was planning on getting out of Ohio as quick as possible.
Maybe head for New York this time. Or Chicago—
No. Screw that. I was going to Milan. And the Circle could pick up the damn ticket, too.
I’d asked for a break and I’d ended up with an assignment instead.
They owed me that break, damn it.
I took a deep breath and glanced down at my clothes. Barbie goes badass. That was the look I’d been going for. I had on a black silk corset and, unlike some of the corsets I’d seen around lately, mine was the real thing—it pushed my boobs together and up, cinched my waist and kept my spine ramrod straight.
I was as comfortable in one as anybody could hope to be, but then again, I’d had a lot of practice. I’d grown up wearing these things when I had to—thanks to a doting father, I hadn’t spent my entire childhood in one.
But I had worn them often enough.
Never one quite like this though. Black-on-black silk brocade with blood-red lacing. I’d paired it with leather pants and heels that would break my neck—if I fell, and if I could break my neck in such a mundane manner. Which I can’t. I’d pulled my blonde hair into a high ponytail, gone a little heavy with the black eyeliner and red lipstick.