The possessed girl was left alone in the fourth room downstairs with nothing but her dreams. I doubt they would be kind to her. Grimm and Hans left quickly without saying goodbye as the dead hurried them to take them home. 

But before Mrs. Daisy Croft left with them, she slipped beside me. "When my daughter wakes up, please don't let her go home alone. She always hated that house ever since her father left and now that I'm gone, I'm afraid she'll lose herself in there." I imagine her head tilting like a rained flower, droplets overflowing. "I don't know if you're truly my daughter's friend but I've heard what they call you, Crier of Souls. I'll trust your heart." She brushes past me like a falling petal and all I'm left with is a cold breeze.

Dilara and I walk together and as we are about to go upstairs I see the rabbit patiently waiting for us on the top of the stairs. He starts thumping his back foot almost as if he were disappointed at our arrival or the state we were in. Dilara and I ascend in pure silence to our rooms.

Before she went into her room, she said. "I'm going to write my parents a letter, and send it to them tomorrow." I nod. She turns to open her door but she looks back at me. "We're not killers." I blink until I realize she is waiting for me to say something—to assure her. But I've always been one.

Still, I tell her, "No, we're not."

Dilara nods and shuts the door. I don't know if she believed me or not.

The rabbit insistently hops behind me with loud unnecessary stomps. Once I get into my room, the rabbit slips in. He continues to pester me with his nose twitching as he sniffs blood off my dress. I unclip the necklaces and take off the earrings thrown on top of my drawer. The rabbit keeps following me around as I'm about to go inside the bathroom, I turn around halting the rabbit's hopping.

"Ya te escuche. Se que hora es y que huelo a mierda. Pero por favor—" My throat burns as I keep trying to swallow the knot down. It builds more. "Todo me duele y no puedo hacer nada más que sentir." (Everything hurts me and I can't do anything but feel.)

The rabbit only looks like a rabbit now, and doesn't understand anything. I walk into the shower and don't bother to take off my dress. I sit there with the water drenching every inch of my body but it does nothing to get rid of the smell of blood and smoke. I place a hand over my mouth, muffling all the noise. The rabbit lays on the mat and tries stretching his ears tall enough to hear it all.

But the water gets colder and my eyes warmer.

*****

After an hour or two in the shower, I somehow got rid of every stain on my skin. But when I looked at myself in the mirror, I flinched. Dressed in a long ivory nightgown made every cut and bruise visible. Mixes of green, purple, yellow, and pinkish flesh were everywhere. Even my veins were transparent, my eyelids looked so blue. At the very least I knew which ones I needed to heal first.

I take out some of my father's books and a pouch carrying salves and vials of colorful liquids. Some of them have an insect or part of an animal floating inside. I lay them all out on the wooden table centered in my room. Although there was a perfectly good bed, I sat down on the floor. I've rarely used the bed for its purpose and the dark circles under my eyes were proof. 

It seems that Dilara had left a porcelain cup of chamomile tea for me. With its steam curling its scent all over the room like it had been freshly made. But I knew better. Her teas and coffees were enchanted to always be warm, never have they gone cold.

I grabbed a pillow cushion and placed it behind my back. The rabbit hops by the fireplace and curls into a ball, his eyes closing. I start flipping through my father's books for remedies, and I find so many. My fingers carefully trace all the words of different spells. A rush of power spreads all over my body as if it knows I'm going to perform magic. As I keep indulging in my father's books and his work, my mind wants to absorb more of this knowledge. I want to know everything.

My father describes every single use of a plant or flower, all of their healing and poisonous properties. The scribbles on the margins emerging together make it a little difficult to read but his attention to detail is intriguing and it is all crucial to performing the spell. I want to learn everything from him. I want to keep learning about all of this. I couldn't wait to see him again.

As I keep reading, I can't help but think if my father lived a different life he could've been an extraordinary doctor. Perhaps, he still can be.

I picked up some salve of arnica and pressed it near my forehead then rubbed some on the bruises and smaller cuts. After I'm done, I extend my left arm on the table with the large cut that was nicely made by Marlene Mondt. Ghastly and swollen. I stretch my hand out, my finger flexing over it.

My magic comes up to the brim. "Percuro...sana...percuro...sana..." The cut stitches itself like glue while ingesting the medicine. It's slow and it might leave a scar but I didn't care, I was doing this all by myself.

I can heal myself. I keep going over other cuts stitching them one by one.

Then a sudden knock is at the door. The rabbit perks his ears up but doesn't move from his spot. I quickly get my robe from the bed and put it on. "Come in," I said as I pulled my sleeves down.

The door creaks open, and a blood-free Grimm walks in. The rabbit returns to his sleep. He is properly dressed again in his clean black button-up shirt with matching slacks. His thick hair was drawn back, but a few careless strands fell over his forehead. His eyes drifted over my face like an admirer of art until they stopped over my bare neck and—I closed my robe further and crossed my arms.

"Why are you here?" I said, a bit harshly.

I didn't think he would come back tonight. Grimm takes slow strides with his hand placed behind his back. "Because I wanted to see you," he says, and my heart beats a little faster.

"And you couldn't wait another day?" I keep a steady tone.

He answers. "And torture myself?" My cheeks burn and I look down at my lap. 

He then says, "Pick a hand, right or left. You'll get something you've been wishing for and the other is something you've been wanting." I met his gaze, his reddish lips curving into temptation.

"Left," I said as he brought his hand out and revealed three white tulips secured by a black ribbon. Why did he always bring me tulips? 

I reach for them, giving him a questioning look. "Something I've been wishing for?"

His eyes glitter in amusement. "So you have been hoping I would bring you tulips again." he teases and I roll my eyes as I consider throwing the flowers at him. They were too pretty, and it just seemed so wasteful.

I ignore his comment and go on. "What's in your other hand? It's something I want." He comes closer and his smirk disappears after a moment. He dragged his other hand out, this time it was a large yellow envelope. "It is what I owe you. You fulfilled our bargain, and although tonight was a little more disastrous than I imagined, you accompanied me." I almost wish it wasn't a bargain to begin with.

I grab the envelope and immediately feel my wrist heavy. "I nearly went down a rabbit hole for you. Did you know they replaced the entire Council with a new one? Except for one witch." Grimm said as he came to sit down with me.

My brows push together. "When was it replaced?"

He replies. "During 2000, they switched out every single member except for a witch named—"

"Helene Worth." I finished.

Grimm raises his brows, "You know her?"

I gripped the envelope a little tighter. "I haven't met her yet. But I've heard a lot of things about her. She is considered to be an important witch in the Council. But all I know is that she is going to die for everything she has done to my family and father." Helene Worth has been standing on a pedestal for too long. It's time for her to fall and stay on the ground. Six feet deep.

"Did you know you smile more when you're thinking about killing someone?" Grimm said with no fear. "You have done it a couple of times. Even earlier." Well, that's a little rude to point out.

I face him, narrowing my gaze. "I thought you said you liked my smile."

He smiles just as wickedly. "I like everything about you. I like seeing you smile, even when it's not about me." I scoff trying to suppress a laugh.

Grimm goes on about the envelope. "But all that you want is in there. Names, home addresses, phone numbers, bank accounts, their children's names, pets, and all important information as promised." Except, he was giving me much more than what I asked for, and I was truly grateful for all of it.

"It's strange," Grimm mutters, eyeing the envelope.

I ask, "What is?" He looked a little caught as if he hadn't expected me to hear him.

He seems hesitant but starts to explain, "The supernatural have always hid themselves from the world. Witches and even more so because their magic is so potent. For centuries, they have been asked to create, heal, and destroy everything this world has offered. The only beings ever to hold power over all laws of nature and bend them to their will. But the price for such power has always been a death sentence." He folds his hands. "It doesn't surprise me that witches are dying, but it's been more than usual over the years from this country. Someone has been killing them, and whoever it is has been doing so since before the 1960s. I believe they only started to record them until then." he admits.

If this has been going on for a long time, then why has no one stopped it? My father mentioned he had heard witches and warlocks were going missing since before he came here. It was one of the reasons why my family never wanted to be involved with Helene Worth and her council. My father spoke about an aunt and uncle who came here and went missing. The Council must know something about the missing witches and warlocks, they have to know where they have gone.

But one thing is certain. The old and new Council has always been after my family and father. It didn't change anything.

"You're smiling again." Grimm teases.

I scowl, "I'm not. But thank you for all this, I'll make sure to read everything. You can leave. I need to finish healing myself." I said but I made a mistake.

Grimm's eyes move rapidly, seeing the few noticeable marks on my neck and the stitched cut on my forehead. I bring some of my hair out to cover it but Grimm grabs a hold of my hand. His long, cold fingers pressed gently against my palm. 

He locks his gaze with mine and becomes as profound as the night. "You don't have to hide from me. You're still undeniably gorgeous. Prettier than the moon herself." I suck in my breath. 

Damn him and his pretty mouth, I almost believe him.

If he saw the bruises and wounds underneath my robe, he would not say that. I'm not going to delude myself any more than already have. Smiling with him, dancing with him, laughing with him kissing him, and pretending as if I know him better than myself.

I snatched my hand back from his grasp and held my robe. "Shouldn't you be out capturing souls?" I turn away as my hair falls over my face like a curtain. I flip through the pages, absentmindedly.

Grimm stays quiet for a moment until he says, "I'm not the Capturer of Souls without the Crier of Souls. We should attend the dead together." I stop flipping through the pages and then proceed again. His body comes closer, I can feel him looking over my shoulder. "Are you even reading?" I ignore him.

A minute passes. "Do you prefer the company of an animal over me?" he asked then quickly said. "Don't answer that."

Before he could utter another question, I said a spell and turned to him. "Check your pockets." He hurriedly checks his pockets until he finds something inside the right side of his pocket. He pulls out a small chocolate wrapped in silver foil. Grimm smiles foolishly, showing off his teeth.

"For me?" He says all too eagerly. He doesn't wait for my response and unwraps the chocolate and bites into it. But I like seeing him smile too. "It's a bit sweet but I know what can balance out the flavor." He looks ready to kiss me but I'm too focused on the sound of his voice—a small strain, the exhaustion of everything.

He is dying, Marlene Mondt's come back to me like a chill whisper. It couldn't be death. She is wrong, it's only exhaustion. I can fix that.

I clear my throat. "I'll let you kiss me, but could you drink my tea? Dilara gets upset with me every time I don't finish it. Could you do it?" I half-lied.

Grimm pulls back and reaches for the porcelain cup, bringing it up to his nose. "This is a sleeping potion. Are you having trouble sleeping?" He takes a long sip.

I return to facing my father's books. "I always had a hard time sleeping since I was young. The most I ever slept for was three hours. It's nothing new but these past weeks, there are some days when I can't sleep at all." He placed the cup down. "You can't fall asleep or you don't want to fall asleep." I met his gaze, his brows knitted as if he was worried for me.

"I don't want to fall asleep," I admit. "Because I'm scared of seeing them in pain again." I swallowed.

It's all I keep seeing and hearing, and it's burning me from the inside out.

He sets his hand over mine, "I can stay here if you would like, and you can sleep. And when the nightmare comes I'll be here. You can hold onto me like a pillar." He was supposed to be the one getting some sleep, not me. I know I could handle another day without sleep.

I shake my head. "You already took the sleeping potion. You'll be falling asleep any minute now."

"Its effects don't work on me." He said, and I frowned. "What do you mean it doesn't work on you?"

Grimm glances over to my tea. "I never sleep. It's part of the price of immortality." It sounded unbelievable just like his existence. "I don't mind not sleeping," he assures me.

"Maybe you should keep drinking it. You never know what could happen." Grimm lets a soft laugh but there is no mockery, it is purely out of affection. He grabs the tea and takes another luxurious sip then sets it down. "Come, lay down with me." Grimm takes a pillow from the bed putting it under his head and lays down to me, patiently waiting.

I couldn't sleep. I had so many things to do. I have to go over reading the information Grimm collected, finish reading the book of Lunaris before I see my father again, and spend more time looking for a way to bring Grimm's wings back.

He repeats himself. "Come, lay down. I promise I'll stay in this spot." It was a reasonable distance, I tried to convince myself. We would be on the floor. Nothing will happen.

I slid my cushion pillow down and lay down facing him. My eyes start to trace the outline of his face, all of the angles, and sharp edges. "If you want to try to fall asleep you should close your eyes," I advised him.

"I would rather look at you, talk to you." He said, quietly.

I shift my head slightly on the pillow. "Do what you want," I said flatly.

Grimm utters, "If only I could if only you let me." He briefly closes his eyes and inhales then exhales slowly. When he opens his eyes this time, they're heavy-lidded like entering a hazy dream. "Tonight would've been perfect if it weren't for those idiots."

 He resists the urge to fall asleep by speaking nonsense. "I could've heard you laugh more than once. I could've seen your smile under the moonlight's glow. I would've kissed for much longer and much more—much more than your lips. We could've danced until the sun rose. To dance with you for all eternity is more timeless than immortality."

My heart feels ready to give itself out, and I place a hand over it, trying to keep it there. 

"Just thinking about everything we could've had tonight if not for those idiots makes me want to kill them all over again." He scowls, then tilts his head, raising his chin a little. "But I'm a little thankful to the witch who tried to subdue my mind."

"Why?" I whispered.

He lowers his voice. "Because I was able to hear you call me and it was not Grimm."

Corazon, mirame. He heard me.

He keeps looking at me as if he is waiting for me to say it again. Instead, I said. "I've no idea what you're talking about. I called you by what I always call you."

"I heard you. I understand all of the languages you speak. I understand you with or without words." He said with a sudden firmness.

I said it more carefully. "I performed a spell over your heart and mispronounced the spell but then got it right. As you know I speak more than one language, and the words get confusing and mix up all the time."

He kept going in his sleepy state, fighting against it—and me. "You didn't mispronounce or confuse anything. You spoke clearer than the ocean's water, and it rang in my ears like church bells. But I can wait." he promises. "I will wait for you to say it again."

I swallow down hard. "Why do you keep—" I was afraid to ask, and even more afraid of his answer. I decide to turn around and I can finally breathe properly. "Go to sleep," I muttered.

Grimm mumbled. "Yes, yes, whatever my Queen asks." More nonsense. More of him dreaming. "Would you be my Queen? Would you like to dance with me for eternity? If you let me, I could find a way for us to be eternal." I hold my breath and close my eyes. A strange image comes to my mind.

We are dancing under the moonlight again, only this time in a field of white tulips. But my mother appears cradling my brother, and my grandmother is at her side. My father is there too, in front of them. They're crying. They're in pain, I believe.

I have to be with them. Despite what my heart feels in Grimm's arms.

As if he knew my answer, he said. "Promise me we will dance one more time." I slowly turned over and opened my eyes. He was much closer than before. With his eyes closed, his features were sharper than any statue I've seen. He looked like a sleeping angel, and yet his lips stayed red like the devil had kissed them.

I bent my head slightly forward, our noses faintly brushing. "I promise we'll dance again. And have our moment of eternity." I shut my eyes and danced in a dream that immortalized itself into a memory. "Goodnight, Grimm."

He said softly, like in a daze of bliss. "But I'm your heart, and you're my wings."

We were never such things.