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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN(Untitled)Grace

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Grace

I stand on the edge of the channel separating this rock from the one the Ferris wheel's on. I really, really want to get over there and figure all this shit out, but… Not going to lie, after that last jump went wrong, my heart pounds like a heavy-metal drummer finally getting a solo. I'm used to thinking of myself as strong and capable, but that nymph would have yanked me into the water without me being able to do a single thing to stop it.

Thank god Branikk saved me.

My emotions are all over the damned place. I'm so used to going it alone, of only having myself to rely on that him saving me like that…

I'm embarrassed. I'm grateful. I'm angry at the "nymph" for grabbing me. I'm angry at myself for being grabbed. I'm horny for his big, powerful body. I'm confused about the Ferris wheel being here.

I'm too many emotions, all of them loud and banging around inside me, and I don't do emotions. Thanks, uptight Scandinavian Minnesota upbringing!

Branikk stands beside me now, and I'm so hyperaware of him my heart races for a completely different reason. God, the feel of his big body scooping me out of the air, his arms like steel bands of protection and strength…

It's enough to turn a gal's head.

Needing to figure out something— anything —in this topsy-turvy day, I make the final leap across to the rock holding the Ferris wheel base. Those answers aren't going to find themselves.

Branikk lands easily beside me, a blur of motion in my peripheral vision as I start forward.

My mechanic training kicks in, and I focus on the ride. Two massive support struts reach down from the center of the wheel to form an upside down V that's wider at the bottom. The rock isn't perfectly flat, but the ride's surprisingly steady, so someone must have done a good job of leveling out the base with shims. The motor's hidden behind painted paneling. Most Ferris wheels don't bother to enclose the motor, but I always liked that about this one—it makes the ride more mysterious for the kids to hide the nuts and bolts of it all.

Months of practice allow me to time my approach perfectly, and I walk between two of the passenger cars to reach the external controls and toggle off the music. The tinned recording halts mid-note, and Aurora gives a pleased whinny over the sound of the river and the nymphs.

This next bit won't make them happy, though. I turn off the ride, and the hum of the electric motor stops, the wheel above slowing to a halt.

A chorus of disappointed cries comes from the nymphs, but I have to figure out what's going on.

I pull on the lever that sets the safety brake and open the hatch to duck inside, Branikk following.

A wide thick pulley belt runs up to the center of the wheel overhead, the other side descending back into the motor in a continuous loop. With the brake on and the motor stopped, it's still now. There's no roof to allow the belt to run without hindrance, so plenty of light pours in from overhead.

I crouch in front of the motor, my hands roving over the outer casing as disbelief fills me and I mutter, "What the ever loving hell?"

My fingers ghost over the dent in the metal panel where the previous mechanic's wrench slipped the first time he showed me how to check the massive pulley belt that drives the ride's wheel. Then I open another panel to see the weld I repaired only last week.

"What is it?" Branikk squats beside me. His eyes flick over the motor before returning to my face. "What's the matter?"

"This isn't just the same model as the Ferris wheel from the carnival I work at. It's the same Ferris wheel." That's impossible. All of it's impossible. Not only is there no road or way to get the Ferris wheel here to the middle of the woods, but there's also no way Stanley would ever give up one of his main attractions. Unless they paid him buckets of money. But how can a reality TV show have that kind of budget? And that's not even taking into account the cost of transporting this huge ride here as a rush job.

My hands keep moving as if they have a mind of their own, slipping down to the bottom of the casing, where they find an empty hole. Shock zips through me.

"Where's the power cord?" I dip my head, laying my cheek on the floor and peer under the casing to confirm. "There's no power supply! That's impossible. The motor was just on."

When I straighten back up, Branikk grins at me. "Not impossible. Magic. Your magic."

A hiccup of a laugh escapes as confusion whirls through me. I've been holding it together this past day by seeing everything that's been happening as Hollywood special effects and acting on Branikk's part.

But if all of this is real…

I'm not on Earth anymore. Magic is real. And I'm a witch.

"Grace. Are you okay?" Branikk's deep voice rumbles through me, and his hands grip my shoulders. His touch brings my gaze to him, his eyes searching my face.

"I don't know." It's hard to admit, but it's the truth. "I don't know what's happening to me or why. I'm a practical gal. I like understanding how things work, like a motor, so I have some hope of fixing things if I need to. Now, I feel unmoored."

"I know it's all really different from what you were used to on your world, but you've got me." His hand cups my cheek. "And you've got an amazing magical power. You're amazing, my bride."

Oh, god! He called me his bride when he came last night. If all of this is real, then he's not lying to me about that part, either. We're really married!

And he's really my husband .

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