No Prince for Riley (Grimm was a Bastard Book 1)

I sink two more balls but miss the fourth shot. Damnit. While Phil has a go at the game, I take my scotch and sit down opposite Sebastian. We clink glasses and both take a sip—me a small one, him virtually inhaling his drink.

“Easy there, your royal highness,” I mock him. “Don’t want you to puke on my shoes later.” And from the speed with which Phil sinks one ball after another, it’s quite likely that I’ll be the one taking the soon-to-be-drunk prince home today.

“I’ll take it easy in the afternoon when I sleep off my inebriation,” Sebastian replies with a snide grin and opens the top button of his white dress shirt. “As for now…” He lifts the wine bottle and calls to Maid Marianne, who waits tables here at the Shady Wonders during the week, “Darling, would you bring me another?”

The Highland beauty with the wild dark hair knows his habit as well as we do, so she doesn’t even bother pointing out that the one he’s holding is still half-full. Twenty seconds later, she places the new bottle in front of him, wipes her hands on her white apron, and then claps him softly on the shoulder, her face contorted in lines of sympathy. “Enjoy.”

I grab a fistful of Marianne’s green linen dress before she can scurry away and lift my pleading gaze to her freckled face. “Can you bring him a double cheeseburger, too?” I know that Sebastian never gets to eat any of the cake at his own wedding. And for a drinking bout such as the one currently on his mind, some solid underlay couldn’t hurt.

Sebastian throws me a look as if to say that I’m not his nanny, but drool practically seeps from the corner of his mouth at the prospect of some real food. From what we hear, Avalyn is on a mission lately to turn him into a vegetarian. Oh, she can try, but I doubt she’ll have any luck with it. Her only chance would be to blackmail him by refusing to… Yeah, well, let’s just say she won’t be lucky.

Phillip dunked five balls but missed his last shot, so we switch places. I empty the table of all colored balls except the black one, and when it’s his turn again, of course he runs them all into the pockets one by one. “Good game,” I compliment him and throw a glance at our pal, who’s getting sloshed quicker than is good for him. That’s going to be an interesting walk to his castle later.

Phil and I play a few more games, slowly drinking as we do. But when Sebastian dips forward, pillowing his head on one arm, the other one hanging listlessly at his side as he begins to snore, the fun is over. “Time to take his highness home and tuck him in,” Phillip jokes, putting his cue away. Thank Grimm, the black-haired prince doesn’t have to act his role all too often these days. The Sea Witch’s curse would be shit compared to the alcoholic cirrhosis he’d end up giving himself.

I place my cue back on the stand and toss the money for my drinks and the fries onto the bar, adding a tip for whichever of the Tweedles served me. Then I put on my jacket and join Phil by Sebastian. “Come on, Sleeping Beauty,” I say, hauling him up by slipping my bulk under his shoulder. Phillip takes his other arm, and together, we walk him outside. The moans coming from Sebastian prove that he’s still alive.

Phillip’s topless coach with the two gorgeous, white horses is parked in front of the pub. As we stop there, he hesitates a moment, patting Sebastian’s cheek rather roughly. “You okay, boy?”

“Uh-huh,” the raspy answer drifts from his hanging head.

Taking him home with the cabriolet would be way faster than dragging the semi-conscious prince down to his palace by the shore. But I can see why Phillip doesn’t want Sebastian to ride with him. Last time we did that, he threw up. No matter how often Phil’s servants cleaned the cushions, the stench remained, and it was pestilent. Ultimately, he had to get a new coach.

I’m preparing to support the boozehound’s whole weight so Phillip can get free, except a rather persistent pull toward the Wood of 1000 Dawns sets in right then and brings on a change of plans.

“Sorry, but Sebastian is your job today,” I apologize and wrap the drunken prince’s arm around Phillip’s shoulders.

Phil stares at me wide-eyed as he has a fully grown man hanging around his neck and holds him tight like a dead wife. “Why?”

“Date with Riley.” I smack him on the shoulder and grin halfheartedly.

“Again?”

Some stories are told more often than others. Phillip and Briar-Rose usually have to act theirs out once every few days. Avalyn and Sebastian often get a few weeks between their plays most of the time. Riley and I, on the other hand, front-run Fairyland’s most-wanted list. We hardly get a day off. But playing twice in twenty-four hours is rare, even for us.

Roguishly, I waggle my brows at Phil and his accessory. A rendezvous with Red Riding Hood is the better end of this deal—for so many reasons.

Sure, it means leaving my best friend to fight the battle with Sebastian alone when he actually won the game of pool, but he knows that none of us can resist the mystical call when someone in The Reality reads the words Once upon a time…

Phil rolls his eyes and then starts laughing. “Screw you, Jack. If you made this up to bail, I’m going to kick your ass down to Eldorado.”

Lifting my hands, I put a solemn expression on my face. “Not bailing, I swear.” He has seen me taking Sebastian home on many occasions. I’m not one to escape from a job when it’s about friends. But the story always comes first.

“I only believe you because I know you can’t fake that gleam in your eyes when it’s about Red Riding Hood. But you owe me, dude.”

That glimmer is not intentional. It comes from the wolf part of me. There’s this deep, annoying need inside me to just nibble Riley up. Heck, if she ever lets me.

“Next time, Sebastian is my duty again. Promise. You know”—I scratch my head—“you could make him throw up here and then bring him home in your runabout. By the way…” I point a finger at Sebastian’s face pillowed against Phillip’s chest. “He’s drooling on your shirt.”

Disgusted, Phil shifts him a little in his grip and considers my suggestion for a couple of seconds. In the end, he shakes his head. “Nah. A little walk and some fresh air will do him some good. See ya! And tell your girl I said hi.”

I nod. “Take care!”

We part in front of the pub and head in opposite directions. The pull is getting stronger, irresistible, and it carries with it the excitement of seeing Riley again. I know I’ll never get to have my way with her, not in our story setup, but the ties to our tale are sometimes seriously hard to cut out of my mind and system.

As I leave the village far behind and cross the borders of the Wood of 1000 Dawns, I sneer at a doe with her fawn in the underbrush and then give a deep, guttural growl to make them dart off in terror…just because I can.

It’s not far to the crossroads, our usual meeting place. As always, I’m the first to arrive. Hands in my jacket pockets, I lean against the signpost that points to Grimwich, Granny’s House, the Plush Toy Forest, and Glitter Hollow. The latter is the direction from which Riley will appear in a few minutes. Inhaling deeply and filtering the air through my nose, I can already smell her. Damn, I dig the mix of morning dew and wood strawberries.

With my hypersensitive hearing, thanks to the wolf part of me, I can hear her footsteps, too. Oddly, there’s no humming today.

A chuckle escapes me. Ooh, someone’s peeved. This is going to be interesting.

Angling one leg and planting the sole of my shoe against the post behind me, I lower my chin but keep an eye on the path in front of me. She’s close, I can sense her. A hot feeling enters my gut and makes the hair on my neck stand on end. It’s always the same at the beginning of our adventure.

Time to brace myself. The first sight usually triggers the impulse in me to change into the big, bad Wolf and just have a go at this girl. It’s immediately followed by a much deeper need to do other things with her. Sinful things. I’ve been trying to lure her off the righteous path and seduce her into a realm of no shame and regret for as long as I can remember.

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