Page 8 of Looking Grimm

“You’re right,” I said. “Forget I mentioned it.”

I didn’t have a specific use for the poison-breathing witch, no marching orders to hand out, and no plan, as he aptly deduced. Maybe he was right, and I wasn’t meant tolead. Or maybe spending most of my life taking direction had ruined me for wanting to give it.

My hands fisted as I turned toward the door. I almost wanted to shout and wake Maggie out of spite, but I had nothing left to say.

“You’re going, then?” Ripley called after me.

I rounded on him, finding him on his feet with his arms crossed. “Might as well,” I replied.

Ripley looked aside, his gaze lost in the curtain of his drippy black bangs. “Feel like I kicked a bloody puppy,” he muttered. “An untrained, ill-tempered, feral puppy.”

His gaze traveled across the coffee table to the mug of tea slightly steaming. I wasn’t sure how long we stood there before he spoke again.

“I won’t work with the Capitol.” He shook his head. “Made that mistake already.”

And it landed him in Thorngate for an extended stay, only to be snatched up and returned to the ranks of the Bloody Hex. From there, Grimm used him then cast him out. Left him for dead.

“You don’t have to.” I tried not to sound too eager about what was shaping up to be an unlikely concession.

Ripley swayed on his feet, not meeting my eyes. “I won’t do anything that puts my girl in danger.”

I dipped my head. “I wouldn’t ask you to.”

The zombie girl continued to doze, snoring softly. Ripley’s shoulders sagged as he walked to the bedside and stood over her.

“You helped her,” he said. “Helped me…”

He dragged the backs of his fingers down her cheek. Recalling Nash’s similarly tender touches stirred a sense oflonging, and I turned away from the scene.

“Who am I to say you aren’t mental enough to pull this off?” Ripley mused. “Nobody with any sense has managed it. Perhaps it takes a madman.”

I thought to snap back, but hell, the suit fit.

So, I was a madman and a villain. At least everyone knew what they were getting themselves into.

“Fitch?”

I remained in place, facing the door but no closer to it when Ripley’s summons prompted me to glance back.

His lips pressed a thin line as words built behind them. “I am truly sorry about your brother,” he said at length. “If I could’ve saved him—”

“Glad to have you on board,” I said.

With that, I hurried out of the hotel room.

The next twenty-four hourswere spent sending my list of demands to Briggs, running to the store to buy clothes of my own, and exchanging text messages with Ripley to cobble together some semblance of a plan.

We agreed on one thing: Grimm and the Hex may have moved their base of operations and may have found another watering hole since being banned from the Bitters’ End, but there was no chance of Grimm giving up his dedicated honeypot. Ripley may not have been willing to workwiththe cops, but he sure was workinglikeone, sitting beside me in the Porsche a block down from the Blooming Orchid, barely obscured by the cover of night.

I felt better than I had in weeks. I was buzzed enough to take the edge off, thanks to the brown paper-wrapped bottle I’d brought with me, and I looked more like myself in jeans and a layered hoodie and jacket than I ever did in Nash’s sweats.

It was unclear what we were watching or waiting for. Ididn’t trust myself to recognize any of the rabble Grimm had added to the gang’s ranks over the past few months. Ripley claimed even more had joined in the time I’d been preoccupied with the Capitol, which made me wonder what was being said to make thug life sound more appealing than I knew it to be.

After an hour of sitting and staring at the Blooming Orchid’s entrance, I snorted a hot breath. “This is boring as fuck.”

“You wanted reconnaissance.” Ripley raised one bony shoulder. “This is reconnaissance.”

Easy for him to say. He’d barely pulled his head out of his phone long enough to know where we were, much less keep an eye on the progress of things. Even now he wore his neon green earbuds, and his head bounced absently along to the music video playing on his cell’s screen.

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