I realized what she was getting at. Otto was a monster – there was no doubt about that – but he was a sick monster. We could take him. We would have to work together to do it. I slipped my hand inside my trench coat and fingered the long knife resting there. My father rarely gave me a sword because it was easier for me to wield a knife. That worked out well for me this time, because Otto hadn’t even felt the knife in my coat when he yanked me inside.
“I see.” I scratched the back of my neck as I shifted my attention to Otto. “Which one of my brothers are you going after?”
Otto lifted his good hand over his head, as if that was somehow supposed to be an answer.
“I vote for Braden,” I announced. “He’s a pain in the ass. I can help you get him.”
Mom briefly furrowed her brow, confused. She smoothed her face before Otto tilted his head in her direction. “If she wants to pick a brother to sacrifice, I don’t see the harm,” Mom offered. “How do you suggest we do this, Aisling?”
“I’ll show you.” I slowly got to my feet and held my hands up as I walked in Otto’s direction. He didn’t have eyes, but I was sure he could see me. I didn’t know how that worked, and had no intention of finding out. “How fast can you open the painting again?”
The noises on the other side of the painting continued, my brothers screaming at each other as they beat against the wall. Then another sound filled the air and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
“What is that?” Angelina asked, fear flitting across her features. “It sounds like … .”
“It’s a chainsaw,” I supplied, causing Otto to stomp his foot. “You need to feed before they cut through that wall. To do that, you have to open the painting and yank Braden through.”
“How will you be sure that he gets the right brother?” Mom queried.
I wasn’t sure that was important, but I refused to let her derail my plan. “I’ll point him out.”
Otto looked to Mom, as if asking permission. She merely nodded. Otto walked toward the painting and I followed him. “I’ll be quick,” I said, reaching inside of my coat and wrapping my fingers around the knife’s grip. “You can’t hesitate.”
Otto nodded, gripping the edge of the painting. I waited until he swung open the door, registering the look of surprise on Dad’s face before yanking out the knife. “Him!” I didn’t point, which threw Otto off. Instead, I rammed the knife into his neck as hard as I could and jumped back.
“What the hell?” Angelina scrambled away from the mirror creature as he writhed, reaching for his neck in an attempt to pull the blade from the flesh. Dad realized what I’d done a split second after he regained his senses. He reached inside, grabbed the shoulder of Otto’s shirt and slammed his sword into the creature’s chest.
Otto couldn’t scream, but I heard his agony rolling through my mind. I instinctively covered my ears as I dropped to my knees, fighting the nausea even after Otto fell silent.
“Aisling?” Griffin was through the hole in the wall and kneeling beside me, his lips pressed to my brow as I lifted my eyes to his. “Are you okay?”
I stared at him a moment, dumbfounded. He looked okay, relieved more than anything. Anger could be lurking beneath his calm demeanor without me immediately seeing it. I knew that well. “This wasn’t my fault. You can’t possibly blame me.”
Griffin wagged his head. “I don’t blame you. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I threw my arms around his neck and allowed a few tears to leak out as I buried my face in the hollow between his neck and shoulder. “I’m ready for Christmas.”
“So am I.” Griffin hugged me tightly. “You have no idea how ready I am.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Braden intoned. “We all love her and want to enjoy Christmas. Now, let’s get her out of there so we can figure out exactly what happened … and what to do with Angelina.”
That was a sobering thought. Angelina scorched me with a glare as she passed, slipping her hand into Braden’s as he helped her through the opening in the wall and practically daring me to muster a demeaning comment. She paused long enough to look me up and down, and I almost thought she might thank me for saving her life. I hoped she wouldn’t. That would alter our relationship … and nobody wanted that
“I freaking hate your family … and I totally wish you’d die,” Angelina gritted out.
I didn’t bother to hide my smile. “Right back at you.”
And all was right with the world.
32
Thirty-Two
The explanation of Otto’s plan to live forever didn’t take long. Dad was disgusted when I finished, but the look he gave Mom was appraising. He didn’t exactly thank her for helping to keep Angelina and me safe, but he didn’t yell at her either. That’s progress, right?
Instead he took everyone by surprise and invited Mom back to Grimlock Manor to enjoy Christmas Eve dinner with us. She accepted, flashing a bright smile as she took Braden’s arm and walked with him out of the house. They looked like any scene from a happy family painting, yet I knew that nothing could possibly be that simple in our family.
“It will be all right,” Griffin murmured.
I nodded. “It will be fine.”
With Otto dead and Mom on her way to Grimlock Manor, that left only Angelina to deal with, and she was surprisingly easy.
“Who would I possibly tell?” She was furious as Dad warned her against spreading tales around town. “No one would believe me. You know it and I do, too.”
“I do know it,” Dad confirmed, grave. “I also know that no one technically owns this house now. If things fall together as they should, you still might be able to sell it and make some money on the deal in a few weeks.”
Angelina brightened considerably. She recognized a bribe when she saw one and she wasn’t above taking it. “You can do that?” She looked impressed.
“I’ll call you when I know more,” Dad replied. “For now, though, stay out of this house. It’s going to need a thorough sweep, and you won’t want to be here when that happens.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to be here for a bit, no matter what.”
Angelina gladly left after that, muttering under her breath about how we were crazy and she couldn’t believe she ever wanted to hang around with any of us – including Cillian. She didn’t even bother to glance in his direction as she trudged off.
I was tired when we got back to the house, so I slipped upstairs to change into comfortable yoga pants and an oversized T-shirt. I washed my face in the sink, frowning when I remembered there was no mirror to check my reflection. Griffin showed up with the missing mirror a few seconds later, silently hanging it on the wall and then watching – simply to make sure, of course – as I studied myself for an extended period.
“The bangs definitely need to go,” I offered after a bit.
“I don’t mind the bangs.” Griffin smiled as I shook my head. “I like you however you style your hair.”
“You’re feeling pretty smooth, aren’t you?”
Griffin shrugged. “I’m feeling pretty relieved. You have no idea how terrified I was when that … thing … pulled you through the painting. I thought I was going to have a heart attack.”
“You’re not the only one. I was a little rattled, too.” I leaned against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest. “I didn’t know what to think when I saw my mother sitting on the couch and having a drink as if it was a normal day.”
Now wasn’t the time for a serious conversation, but I had to get my worries out when we were alone and there was no possibility of eavesdroppers chancing on our conversation.
“What do you think now?”
“I don’t know. She was being held captive. I figured that out pretty quickly.”
“Yeah. Do you think she was trying to sacrifice you to save herself?”
I shook my head. “I think she was trying to buy time … just like me. She didn’t know about the knife in my coat. I forgot i
t was even there when she was explaining everything. She did the right thing. She even protected Angelina, which she didn’t have to do. She could’ve easily sacrificed Angelina and tried to escape when Otto was sucking her dry.”
“Or she could’ve bolstered her own strength by sucking Angelina dry,” Griffin pointed out. “She didn’t do that. She held things together so you could do what you needed to do. I don’t know what else we could’ve expected of her.”
“I don’t either.” I forced a smile. “I don’t want to think about it right now, if that’s okay. It’s Christmas Eve.”
“It’s definitely Christmas Eve.” Griffin extended his hand. “Do you want to find a spot under the mistletoe with me?”
I nodded, amused. “That’s the best offer I’ve had all day.”
“WE’RE NOT kids any longer,” Braden whined, staring at the mountain of gifts under the tree in the parlor. “Why can’t we open our stuff tonight and sleep in tomorrow?”
Mom left after dinner, giving each of us a short hug before retreating to leave us with Dad for the holidays. If she was hurt to be left out of tomorrow’s Christmas festivities, she didn’t say anything. Instead she seemed grateful to be included at all, and left without complaint.
“Because it’s not Christmas and you know how I feel about tradition,” Dad replied, handing Maya a glass of wine before settling in his regular chair. “You’ll survive until tomorrow.”
“I’m not sure I will,” Braden countered. “I think I might be dying.”
“I’ve had enough of people almost dying in this house,” Dad ordered. “It’s Christmas Eve, Braden. Stop your bellyaching.”
“Yeah, Braden,” I teased, grinning as I got up to refill my wine glass. “You don’t have to be such a pain.”
“That’s pretty rich coming from you. You were going to sacrifice me to save yourself,” he growled.
Mom had already left, so I had no place to glare but the floor. “I was never going to sacrifice you. I was simply buying time until I could get in a better position.”
“Mom said you were going to point me out.”
“I didn’t.”
“Still, you’d better have gotten me a great Christmas gift,” Braden muttered. “I think I deserve it.”
“I think you deserve a kick in the pants.” I ignored Dad’s dark look as I stood in front of the drink cart and stared out the window. “We’re getting a lot of snow. I guess that means we can make forts and have a snowball fight tomorrow.”
“Now we’re talking.” Redmond’s eyes gleamed. “That’s what I’m looking forward to.”
“I’m not getting out of my pajamas until noon,” I announced. “I won’t be ready for snowballs until after lunch.”
“That’s fine.” Redmond waved off my response. “I’ll throw you out the front door while you’re still in your pajamas. I’m not picky.”
“Ha, ha.” I shifted my eyes up to the mistletoe hanging over the archway and cleared my throat to get Griffin’s attention.
“What?” Griffin’s handsome face was blank.
“Mistletoe.” I pointed for emphasis. “I believe you have plans for the mistletoe, right?”
“Oh, don’t do anything gross,” Braden complained, rolling his eyes. “I can’t take it if you guys get all romantic and stuff. I’ll throw up … and that seems like a waste of Dad’s good brandy.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” Dad muttered.
Griffin ignored the sounds of derision and got to his feet, grabbing my hand as he closed the distance. He looked a bit odd – I couldn’t put my finger on it – but he never moved his eyes from my face. He almost looked as if he was going to pass out, which was ridiculous because he’d had only one glass of wine since we joined everyone on the main floor.
“Are you feeling okay?”
Griffin nodded. “I’m simply relieved that you’re safe.”
“Me too.” I inclined my chin in the direction of the mistletoe. “Do you want to make out?”
“In a second.”
In a second? That was a weird answer. “What do you want to do until then?”
“Just this.” Griffin sucked in a deep breath and dropped to one knee, causing my heart to constrict as my stomach rolled. I instantly felt my cheeks burn when I realized what he was about to do.
“What are you doing?” I hissed. “You’re supposed to ask Dad’s permission first.” I shifted my eyes to Dad, panicked. “He’s supposed to ask your permission first.”
Dad was paler than normal but he remained calm as he stretched out his legs in front of him, running his tongue over his teeth. “He asked my permission two months ago.”
What? How was that possible? “But you said that you still had to ask him.” My voice was full of accusations. “You said … .”
“I said I was going to ask you to marry me and that it was necessary to get your father’s permission first,” Griffin offered, finding his voice. He sounded a bit weak and frightened. “I didn’t think it was important for you to know that I’d already asked permission.”
“And you said yes?” Braden’s eyes were as wide as saucers as he turned to Dad. “Seriously?”
Dad smiled as he locked gazes with me. “Sometimes the most important thing in the world is your child’s happiness.”
“That wasn’t really an answer,” Braden pointed out.
Dad chuckled appreciatively. “I said yes.”
I rubbed my eyes with my free hand as I let my gaze bounce around the room. This had to be a dream.
“Aisling, I love you,” Griffin started, forcing me to press my eyes shut because I feared I would burst into tears. “There are times I think that I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you. There are other times I know that it required more work.
“I know that our future won’t be easy and we’ll both have to put effort in to survive on an emotional – and probably physical – level,” he continued. “I’m willing to put that effort in. I hope you are, too.
“You’re all that I’ll ever want. I promise to be a good husband to you,” Griffin said, choking up. “I promise to love you more than anything and take care of your heart and soul. I promise to be there when you need me … in good times and in bad … and to want you by my side forever.”
I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead as I opened my eyes, tears coursing down my cheeks.
“Will you marry me?” Griffin had no trouble uttering the final words, and despite my fear, I had no trouble answering.
“Yes.” I nodded as he slipped a ring on my finger, white gold with a solitary diamond glinting thanks to our proximity to the fireplace. I burst into tears as Griffin got to his feet and tugged me close, burying his face in my hair.
I closed my eyes again, tuning out the sounds of my brothers, father, best friend, Katherine and Maya as they exclaimed to one another in delight.
“Merry Christmas,” Griffin whispered.
“I’m so going to kick your ass for doing this in front of everyone,” I hissed, holding on to my righteous indignation for one more second before giving in to the holiday spirit. “I’ll do it tomorrow, though.”
“Yay, Bug!” Jerry clapped as he hurried to my side. “I was afraid it would never happen. I can’t wait to go dress shopping.”
That hadn’t even occurred to me. “I … .”
“You’re already said yes,” Griffin reminded me. “You can’t take it back.”
I didn’t want to take it back. “That sounds fun, Jerry. We’ll make Griffin go with us.”
Griffin’s face drained of color. “Excuse me?”
“You already asked,” I reminded him. “You can’t take it back.”
Griffin tightened his arms around me. “I’ll never want to take it back.”
“Me either.”
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About the Author
I want to thank everyone who takes
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If you liked the book, please take a few minutes and leave a review. An independent author does it all on their own, and the reviews are helpful. I understand that my characters aren’t for everyone, though. There’s a lot of snark and sarcasm in my world – and I know some people don’t like that.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Books by Amanda M. Lee
An Avery Shaw Mystery
Who, What, Where, When, Die
If it Bleeds, it Leads
Buried Leads
Shot Off The Presses
The Preditorial Page
Misquoted & Demoted
Headlines & Deadlines
Misprints & Mistakes
Bylines & Skylines
Off the Record
A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Mystery
Any Witch Way You Can
Every Witch Way But Wicked
Witching You Were Here
Witching on a Star
Something to Witch About
Witch Me Luck
Life’s a Witch
Charms & Witchdemeanors
The Trouble With Witches
A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short
Careful What You Witch For
Wicked Brew
Grim Holiday (Aisling Grimlock Book 6) Page 30
