Wickedly Charming by Kristine Grayson Read Free Book Online Page A

the Greater World for years, and had trouble finding work. The assorted woodland creatures—the birds that always seemed to guard Cinderella, the rabbits who had befriended Thumper in order to get close to Bambi, and of course, the poor deer hunter who got such a bad rap for murdering (murdering!) Bambi’s mother—hung around the edges. A small grouping of tiny fairies—the ones who formed Tinker Bell’s entourage before she decided to stalk Peter Pan—hovered in the center, dressed like Goth teenagers, and looking more like little girls trying to dress like their older sisters.
    Those fairies had somehow divorced themselves from the Fairy Kingdom of Celtic lore. Or maybe they had never been part of it.
    Mellie couldn’t keep track of all of the archetypes in the Greater World. There were also the Greek Gods, whom she avoided whenever she could, and some really nasty magic users.
    Two giants had joined her group, which was two more than last year, but only because they’d been cut by the NBA because they weren’t agile enough. A few ogres stood to one side, wearing pirate scarves around their bald heads and rather ornate parachute pants with matching tops that somehow suited them. The little people were underrepresented for once—she’d heard that someone was filming Return to Oz all over again and needed Munchkins, realistic or not.
    But the flying monkeys were here—or at least a few of them were. The ones who thought a movie like Return to Oz beneath them. The flying monkeys, a few trolls, one of the Billy Goats Gruff.
    No real celebrities, however. No other stepmother, none of the witches, none of the crones (although, to be fair, most of them had moved to England and Canada, finding all kinds of work in the Shakespearean companies at the two different Stratford-upon-Avons). Mellie was the biggest archetypal celebrity at the fair, if you didn’t count Charming (and why should she? He wasn’t part of her group).
    Rumpelstiltskin had shown up, but he never missed a protest. He loved creating havoc—and enticing beautiful women to bear his children. Mellie had never understood what attracted all those women to Rumpelstiltskin, but something did, because he’d fathered half-a-dozen children out of wedlock just since he moved to the Greater World. Fortunately for him, he was one of the best con men ever, and could spin metaphorical straw into very real gold.
    He was a perfectly proportioned man who wore his clothes very well. His navy blue suit was silk and had to be too hot in this climate. His shirt was white silk, and he wore custom-made shoes. He leaned against the van as if he were posing for an automobile ad.
    He could have led this group, but he knew better. The one time he had tried, Mellie had gotten furious and he hadn’t liked that.
    Not because he couldn’t deal with furious women—it seemed furious women were his specialty, along with long cons—but because he really liked and respected her.
    He wasn’t a bad guy underneath that conniving personality. In fact, he was one of the few archetypes who truly understood what she was trying to do.
    He winked when he saw her approach. Then he inclined his head toward the back of the van and her heart sank.
    The disheveled man sitting half in and half out of the van was trouble. He, too, wore a blue suit, but the suit looked like he’d been wearing it for weeks. His hair hadn’t been combed in just that long. It had gotten tangled in his beard which was… blue.
    Really and truly blue. Smurf blue.
    When he cleaned up, that Smurf blue accented his eyes. He looked like he was made of sapphires. He was breathtakingly handsome underneath the mess, which was how he had married all those women, and he was, unlike the other archetypes, the only one who wasn’t unjustly accused.
    Bluebeard.
    Mellie shuddered as she looked at him. He must have escaped again. No institution in the