“Coppelia Potts, full-time Nightmare Hunter and part-time… babysitter.” Coppelia sighed as she watched the snow fall outside. “I’ve thwarted mummies and captured magical menaces. I think I’m a little bit overqualified to babysit a toddler.”
Wolfgang Potts shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re complaining about. I’m glad we aren’t in mortal danger for once.
The white door swung open before I could knock. Agent Hutchinson waved me in. “Welcome to the team, Ms. Dying Words Detective.”
“That’s Detective Fernanda Alves.” I weaved my way through the dozen other agents squeezed into the commandeered construction trailer near the zoo’s entrance. “Let me see the footage.”
I wasn’t talking
“Got a mission for you, kid.”
Judy Suarez tapped the end of her cigarette into an ash tray. I leaned against the office doorway, pad and pen ready.
The Script Doctor’s eyes sparkled. “You ever read Blake Snyder’s magnum opus?”
“Who?”
“Never mind.” She inhaled a long drag, exhaling a plume of smoke
“What a perfectly splendid location to attempt new and exciting crime!” Finneas Churchwarden—private investigator—straightened his blue argyle bow-tie. “Don’t you agree, Leon?”
“It’s Lionel, sir.”
“That’s what I meant.” Churchwarden jabbed his clay pipe between his teeth, chewing on the stem as he spoke. “Come, beloved colleague. Let us do the work
“You can’t change anything, Tom. You know that.”
I nodded. No one could fight the laws of time travel.
“No matter how much you’re tempted.”
“I know!” I forced my breath to steady. Jacob was helping me, against all rules. All reason. He was not the enemy. “Sorry.” I swallowed. “No matter what,
“Coppelia, the next time a cursed mummy comes to life and you think it’s a great chance to pretend to be Indiana Jones, leave me out of it!” Wolfgang Potts puffed as the two siblings darted down a dark museum hallway, lit by their flashlights and red emergency lights.
Coppelia shoved the sign
Fae-burst had been banned in Anglia for over a decade, but Spencer knew for a fact he’d seen magic onstage tonight.
He peered around the shadowy backstage room. Illusionist dens like this were common in Anglia’s seediest districts, but only sleight of hand was allowed onstage. Fae-burst with its addictive qualities was strictly forbidden.
Jane won’t leave her infernal scarf alone. I’m trying to ignore it, as this trip is stressful enough without starting a fight. After all, we’re going to see the Charmings.
We both hate the royalty: me, because no one keeps them in check, and Jane… Well, I’m still not sure why Jane hates them
Judy Suarez lit a cigarette and took a drag. Against her left shoulder she cradled a landline desk phone. In her right hand she clenched a screenplay lacerated with pen slashes.
“Hemingway once said to write drunk and edit sober. Honey, you should be writing sober.”
The screenwriter on the other end of the line said
“D’Aulnoy. Jacobs. Now.”
I enter Grimm’s office with my partner, Nero Jacobs, at my side. He shoots me a quizzical glance. I shrug back.
The lieutenant, never one for words, gestures to the chairs opposite his desk, then thuds into his own wingback chair as I sit and cross my legs.
The waves were hungry.
Adira’s stomach flipped against her swan-bill corset as she leaned over the balcony of the luxury steamship, imagining how it might feel to sink into those roiling depths. Behind her, an investigator from Maravel’s official detective agency interviewed a witness.
“Let’s walk through this again,” Mr. Bright enunciated
The red-brick houses behind Mick Scholmberg huddled together like prisoners awaiting a firing squad, hoping for a reprieve but at the same time sullenly resolved. Their only chance now was with their homeowners.
If Mick could prove that the mastermind behind the new development plan was a criminal, he could save
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