by Cameron Jace
Blood, Milk & Chocolate
The Grimm Diaries 3
Part One
by Cameron Jace
www.CameronJace.com
Copyright
First Original Edition, December 2014
Copyright ©2014 Akmal Eldin Farouk Ali Shebl
All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.
Contents
Prologue
Part 1: Breadcrumbs & Mirrors
Chapter 1 * Chapter 2 * Chapter 3 * Chapter 4 * Chapter 5 * Chapter 6 * Chapter 7 * Chapter 8 * Chapter 9 * Chapter 10 * Chapter 11 * Chapter 12 * Chapter 13 * Chapter 14 * Chapter 15 * Chapter 16 * Chapter 17 * Chapter 18 *
Part 2: Lost Souls & Magic
Chapter 19 * Chapter 20 * Chapter 21 * Chapter 22 * Chapter 23 * Chapter 24 * Chapter 25 * Chapter 26 * Chapter 27 * Chapter 28 * Chapter 29 * Chapter 30 * Chapter 31 * Chapter 32 * Chapter 33 * Chapter 34 * Chapter 35 * Chapter 36 * Chapter 37 * Chapter 38 * Chapter 39 * Chapter 40 * Chapter 41 *
Part 3: True Love & Lies
Chapter 42 * Chapter 43 * Chapter 44 * Chapter 45 * Chapter 46 * Chapter 47 * Chapter 48 * Chapter 49 * Chapter 50 * Chapter 51 * Chapter 52 * Chapter 53 * Chapter 54 * Chapter 55 * Chapter 56 *
Thank You
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Other Books by Cameron Jace
The Grimm Diaries Prequels Series
The Grimm Diaries Prequels 1-6
The Grimm Diaries Prequels 7-10
The Grimm Diaries Prequels 11-14
The Grimm Diaries Prequels 15-18
The Grimm Diaries Main Series
Snow White Sorrow (book 1)
Cinderella Dressed in Ashes (book 2)
Insanity Series
Insanity (Mad in Wonderland)
Figment (Insanity 2)
I Am Alive Series
I Am Alive (book 1)
Pentimento Series
Pentimento (book 1)
"Love is like death, it must come to us all, but to each his own unique way and time, sometimes it will be avoided, but never can it be cheated, and never will it be forgotten." ― Jacob Grimm
Prologue
Candy House,
a few minutes after Loki, controlled by the Queen of Sorrow via his Fleece, ran off to kill Shew.
Right after the incident at Candy House, Lucy Rumpelstein couldn't stop thinking about the Queen of Sorrow. She sat on her chair in the kitchen, not quite believing she was looking at the one and only Queen. This was her in the flesh, Lucy thought—Carmilla Karnstein, wrongfully known as the Evil Snow White Queen to all those giddy girls in love with those misleading Disney movies. This was the woman who devoted her life to eating her own daughter's heart. What a story!
Lucy hadn't even cared when Axel and Fable ran out after Loki, trying to stop him from killing Snow White—or whatever that obnoxious vampire girl's name was. None of those annoying teenagers mattered to Lucy. All this talk about True Love between Loki and Shew irritated her. She never believed True Love was possible. She had never encountered it or seen it or felt it, except in teenage movies. Lucy, although sixteen, known as Rumpelstein's high queen bee, always wanted to feel older and more mature. True Love was for kiddos who wanted to feed on an illusionary lie. She didn't think the legends like the Queen of Sorrow ever believed in True Love.
Lucy's eyes were still glued to the beautiful Queen. Carmilla sat with her chin up, the tips of her fingers lightly tapping the table's wooden surface. She wore modern clothes, trying to pose as a school principal. But she still looked like a queen: elegant, powerful, and feared, as if she were sitting in her glass throne in the Kingdom of Sorrow.
Never had Lucy been infatuated by someone more powerful than the Queen of Sorrow. She was her idol. A figure to look up to and learn from. Lucy would have sold her soul to the devil to learn from this woman.
It fascinated her how Carmilla was so unapologetically evil, so majestically cunning and deceptive. If one trait amused Lucy the most, it was how the Queen never sugarcoated her evildoing. She never claimed she wanted to kill her daughter for the good of the world—although she had tricked Loki into thinking that. She just said, "Hey, I am the Queen of Sorrow; bend before me or I'll eat your heart with a slice of liver and chalice of bloody wine on the side." The Queen had always been proud of her utter evil, and Lucy adored her.
Lucy inhaled the sight of the Queen of Sorrow with her eyes, memorizing every detail of the European beauty. This beautiful, slightly hard-edged face. Those curvy blonde curls of thick hair, only missing the thin silver crown that was usually threaded through them. Those intimidating blue eyes with that tinge of gold shining every now and then. Those thin, heart-shaped lips, and those long, fine fingernails. Such a scary beauty was all that Lucy wished to be when she grew older.
Please look at me, Carmilla. Please notice me. Here I am, daughter of the owner of Rumpelstein High, queen bee of a small, and lost, American town residing on top of a whale; a town that can only be accessed through hell. Here I am, willing to do anything you ask me to. You have awakened the evil in me. The delicious evil of a lonely, spoiled, and bored teenager. I am as classy as you only in a mundane world of absurd reality. Take me to the Dreamworld, and honor me with a piece of your daughter's heart. I swear I will bite into it like a hungry zombie.
Lucy shrugged. Was this the effect of the Queen's presence, or had Lucy always been ready for evil without her quite knowing it?
"What are you staring at?" Carmilla said, still tapping her fingernails softly and leaning back in her chair.
"I'm sorry, My Majesty." Lucy lowered her head, aware of the silliness of calling her "Majesty." This was the real world, the Waking World, almost two centuries ahead of the Queen's time. No one called anyone Majesty anymore.
"Sorry for what?" Carmilla grimaced.
"For staring at you, My Queen," Lucy said. "I'm not holding anything against you. In fact, I deeply sympathize with Your Majesty." Lucy shrugged. "You sacrificed your life for the little princess. You've tolerated a bad marriage and inherited a kingdom of evil. I don't consider you evil. You are my hero."
The Queen's grimace tightened, but she said nothing. Lucy wondered if she liked what she had said.
"I wish you'd take me on your side," Lucy said with pleading eyes. "I wish to serve you. I wish to learn from you. Is there anything I can do for you?"
The Queen ignored Lucy's offer and turned her neck toward the window, making sure that Loki and Axel and Fable had vanished into the blurry distance. "Lucy Rumpelstein," the Queen hissed, not looking at her. "You have no idea what you're asking. You also have no idea how insulting your inquiry is. You know why?"
Lucy's lips went dry. The Queen's change of tone scared her. Her tongue was too tied to answer her.
"Because I don't need anyone's help, sympathy, or love," the Queen explained. She stopped tapping her fingers. "I've grown through centuries with the kind of wisdom only immortals can acquire. You simply get all you want as long as you love yourself above everyone, and everything, else."
Carmilla's words made Lucy adore her even more. Please teach me how to become like you. Lucy's eyes itched suddenly. She wondered why, but didn't even bother to check. Who had time to do anything in the Queen's presence?
"You barely know who I am," the Queen continued. "No one really knows me." She let out that same sigh she'd uttered when she had her back to them a few minutes ago, that moment when Lucy almost thought Carmilla was discreetly sobbing.
Could that have been possible? W
as that why she wasn't looking at Lucy now? Who are you, Queen of Sorrow? What great secret do you keep?
"Are you crying, My Queen?" Lucy said, not caring if she'd trigger her wrath this time. She needed to know.
The Queen didn't reply. She snapped her fingers sideways without looking at her. "You're free to go, Lucy," she said, still looking at the world outside Candy House's windows.
Lucy stood up, rubbing her wrists. She was caught between submitting to the Queen's orders and defying her by staying to see if she were crying.
What was the price of staring up at Carmilla Karnstein when she didn't want you to? Will you be turned into stone, like Medusa did to those who dared look at her? Was the Queen Medusa herself at some time in history? Who knew?
Fragile as she really was, Lucy walked past the Queen, toward the door, afraid to stare at her face. For a girl used to getting what she wanted, it was a hard decision. Fear consumed Lucy. Fear of the Queen, and fear of the evil self that was surfacing in her soul. Her eyes itched again. She began to worry if it was some kind of serious illness.
"I'll see you at school, Principal Mircalla, right?" Lucy said, ever so slowly, without turning back her head.
"Of course," the Queen answered with a hint of mockery.
Lucy thought of what kind of school Rumpelstein High would be with the new principal. Hell, what kind of town was Sorrow going to be from now on?
"Actually"—the Queen tapped her fingers on the table again—"there is something you could do for me, Lucy Rumpelstein."
Lucy's heart fluttered.
Yesss!
She didn't say anything, but turned slightly around. She nodded with dilated pupils.
"But you must know of the consequences of those who don't fulfill my wishes," the Queen warned her.
"I'm aware that you can hurt me." Lucy nodded. I like that I am afraid of you. It gives me something to fear in this boring town. Isn't this what we're all looking for in all those slasher movies—begging to be scared because we're all so bored of our normal lives?
"In my quest for my daughter's heart, I have no time to hurt you." The Queen's tone was flat. "If you mess up, I will kill you with the snap of my fingers."
"I understand," Lucy said. Her eyes itched again and again. Her hands were already numb enough that she couldn't reach for her eyes. In fact, almost every inch of her body had been numbed by Carmilla's warning.
"I need you to find me a book," Carmilla said.
"A book?" Lucy never thought she'd bargain with her life for a book. She'd never read one in her life.
"It's more of a diary," Carmilla explained, her voice tense again. "I don't know how it looks like now, or what shape it's in after all these years."
"Your diary?" Lucy asked.
"Don't interrupt me." The Queen nodded, though.
"You mean it's more than two hundred years old?" Lucy was about to jump in place.
The Queen's stare of irritation was strong enough to make Lucy stop and lower her head again. "I mean, if it's such an old and lost diary," Lucy said slowly, "it could have been passed by one person to another among the years. That if it's not already—"
"It can't be," Carmilla said. "It's sort of a cursed book—something you teenagers like to call 'enchanted.' The book can only be read once every one hundred years."
"Once?" Lucy's puzzlement was profound. Intrigue and riddle solving had never been her thing. She wished the Queen would tell her where the book was so she would go and get it. "How can a book be read only once, Majesty? I don't understand."
"It's a Book of Sand." Carmilla looked impatient. "Each page dissolves into sand when read once each one hundred years. If anyone attempts to read it after, they can't even find it, as it takes the shape of something else for the hundred years after being read. Last time someone read it was a hundred years ago. I'm sure it hasn't been read again yet, because tomorrow at midnight, exactly a hundred years will have passed. If you're quick enough, you will get it for me."
"Oh." Lucy frowned. "How do I find it, then?"
"Before I tell you, I have to warn you again. This is my diary. I wrote it in the Kingdom of Sorrow, and I would not accept failure if I ask you to get it for me." Unexpectedly, the Queen shrugged—long enough to get Lucy's mind working.
"I'm honored to be in your service, My Queen," Lucy said. "Does the book say something like 'The Diary of Carmilla Karnstein'?"
"No," the Queen said, but it looked like she wasn't sure. Lucy felt confused. "I'm not sure. I wrote it a long time ago. The first sentence in the diary should read something like, 'I wrote this on the night of October 31st.'"
"You wrote it on Halloween?" Lucy had to hide her excitement. This was getting better and better.
"I will permit you to read the first page only," the Queen said. "Just to make sure it's the diary I am looking for. But if you flip one page further, I will hang you from your beautiful long hair and dangle you from the highest tower in the world, make the pigeons feed on your eyes, and curse you with immortality so you suffer for eternity. Do you understand?"
Lucy nodded thrice. Out of fear this time, not understanding. So I don't get to read this diary? She sighed disappointedly.
"Now, go do as I told you while I watch Snow White's Dreamory through Loki's Fleece." She pulled out a small crystal ball and placed it on the table.
Lucy didn't know what she meant by that, but it didn't matter. She had all those conflicting feelings swirling in her chest now. She turned around, about to leave, but one last question had to be asked. "You didn't tell me where the diary is," Lucy remarked.
"I didn't?" The Queen smirked.
"No."
"Remember when I told you that Books of Sand take different shapes after being read?" The Queen didn't await an answer. "This diary took the shape of a parrot."
"Parrot?"
"Pickwick the Parrot." The Queen rubbed her crystal ball. "You must have seen him around."
"I—"
"Whether you did or not, it's now your job to get the parrot." The Queen tapped her crystal ball to life, and it radiated silver and blue colors. "Find the book or I will kill you."
Lucy ran out of the house immediately, not just to get Pickwick the Parrot. She was now really scared of the Queen of Sorrow. Scared enough that she almost regretted not leaving when she had a chance. And damn those eyes. Why did they keep itching?
Part 1
Breadcrumbs & Mirrors
1
Candy House
No one in Candy House had any idea of the horrible event awaiting them.
Only Fable, feeling distressed since she'd occupied Loki's body to save him in the Dreamworld, couldn't escape the feeling that something dreadful was on its way. What it was, she couldn't tell. But she was sure her wannabe witch's sixth sense smelled something wrong in the air.
But maybe she was wrong. Maybe this was nothing but the aftermath of one of her wrongfully spelled charms, like when she had scared Loki away when he first came to visit Axel in Candy House. But then again, maybe she was right, or why did everything around her feel so wrong?
Fable began her day, struggling to wake herself up from a dream of Loki killing children in the name of the Queen of Sorrow. A nightmare where she felt she'd been buried deep under the linen of her bedsheets, so deep she couldn't breathe.
In the nightmare, Loki was looking for children with splinters in their eyes. Loki wasn't the loving person she knew anymore. He was a vicious and heartless huntsman ready to chop off heads.
Fable wondered why the word "heartless" resonated strongly in her chest when she thought about Loki, as if it were telling her something. Still, she couldn't find what that something was.
Eventually, Fable snapped out of the nightmare and straightened herself in her bed.
The morning sun kissed her skin and assured her she was awake and back in her bed in Candy House. She clapped her small hands on her chest and let out a long breath. Poor Shew, was the first thing Fable thought. Shew ha
d to kill Loki after he'd chopped off Cerené's hands. She had to kill the one she loved so she could wake up from an endless dream and stop her evil mother from finding the Lost Seven in the Waking World. Fable wondered how it felt to kill your one True Love.
Still in her bed, Fable noticed the house was be silent. She couldn't hear Axel's or Shew's voices outside her room. Why hadn't anyone come to check on her? She must have been screaming in her nightmare. Usually Axel would hurry to help his younger sister, since he had always been overprotective of her.
But no one came.
Maybe they hadn't woken up yet, Fable imagined.
She let the sun heal her soul for a while before she pulled off the cover to go brush her teeth. To her surprise, she found Pickwick hiding underneath it.
"Pickwick?" Fable reached for her glasses on the drawer to make sure it was Charmwill's parrot. Her shortsightedness wasn't helping the first few hours after waking up.
It actually was Pickwick, curled up in a fetal position and looking worried in her bed.
"My name is Pickwick and I am mute," the parrot moaned.
Fable didn't know whether to laugh or worry. After all, this was the only phrase Charmwill allowed Pickwick to utter. It was a mind-boggling phrase.
"Are you looking for Loki?" She held the parrot up and hugged it. Pickwick seemed to enjoy Fable's embrace immensely, and hugged her back with his short wings. "Don't worry, Pickwick. Everything is going to be all right, I promise." She patted him, thinking about how Charmwill had told Loki to take care of Pickwick in case he died. Now, with Loki dead, Pickwick had been orphaned twice. Fable wondered what this mysterious parrot really meant to Charmwill. No doubt Pickwick knew tons of secrets he couldn't utter. Without his help, she wouldn't have guessed Charmwill Glimmer's True Name to be Wilhelm Carl Grimm in the first place.
