It didn't seem like Mr. Maser's office. I'm sure that was due to some psychological blahblah about the situation, but even so it felt like I was walking into another world. And after all I had been through that had better not be the case or I would scream. That was all I needed, another world that would bar its exit. I touched the messy old desk for reassurance. It was cheap balsawood. No fantasy world would have balsawood. My hand remained on the desk's edge as a lasso from Rowe. He made his way to the back of the room. Smart of him to stay as far from me as possible.

Good grief, I was trapped in a room with a potential murderer. It did not manage how far he was from me. Crap, what had I gotten myself into? Just because he had originally been after Mary I felt I had the privilege to waltz right in here. Yes, I was an absolute wreck inside and my make-up was a mess on the outside. But I was going to lay it cool. Oh, yes. So I pretended that my hair look decent and adjusted it to its full perfection—were it there. "So," I said as coolly as I could. "What's going on?"

"Promise you won't pepper spray me?" He had the nerve to stick in a smile with that. I frowned. No smile was going to turn me around. For the first time I saw him for what he was, a too-tall chubby guy with clashing red hair. Not macho and manly at all. For what had I fallen?

I sighed. Well, I now had confidence on my side. "You're safe. Just don't try any freaky magic spells."

"I don't know any magic spells."

He really was pathetic. I fought the urge to smile. It did not seem appropriate to laugh at someone during this kind of thing. I kept my gaze steady. "Is that so? I was pretty sure I saw some hefty magic back there in Snow White land." So what if my tone was a little flippant?

He rolled his eyes. "For crying out loud, that was not me back there, wherever!"

"It looked like you!" I quickly glanced over the desk for something to chuck at him. Mr. Maser did not keep so much as a tacky paperweight.

"And you should know well enough that looks don't matter here."

I was not interested in another debate about the art of beauty. I gritted my teeth and dug into the cheap balsawood. Really, I had nothing against balsawood. "Then explain what is going on! What is your curse?" It was like asking for a werewolf to chomp off my head.

But there was no bloodshed. Instead, Rowe ripped open a drawer of his father's desk. For one split second I imagined myself in a Mary Higgins Clark novel, about to be blown to kingdom-come by a hidden handgun. How could I have fallen for this? For that split-second my life flashed before my eyes and I knew that I was going to look hideous for the coroner.

A heavy book thudded to the desktop.

Maybe the gun was hidden inside the book. I had to admit, I had always thought it would be pretty cool to hollow out a book. And it wasn't just any book. It was the kind of book I happily would have put on my shelf. It was old, thick, and gorgeous.

It was a book of a fairy tales.

One of those older editions, all fancily made and the like, the kind I would have taken equal turns to parade about and hide from my friends who would have thought a fairy tale obsession was silly. And to think that someone kept a gun in it. I pushed the thought away. Anyone who would destroy that gorgeous book to hide a gun should be shot with the thing already. Boy, I had to get the gun idea out of my head. So I stared at the book a long while, during which Rowe just stood there. Did not perform evil magic. Did not shoot me. Did not even talk. He just stood there.

"I don't get it," I finally said. "What kind of curse is this?"

"They're real. Fairy tales. They really happened. They still happen."

I nodded. Like I did not yet comprehend that. "So?"

He turned the book to him and flipped through the pages. "There is a story theme. It happens in countless tales. Transformation. Remember the Beast? Things like that. Bluebirds, other animals, people get turned into things." He slammed the book shut. "Tansy, this is me. Right here in front of you."

"Then who was that back there in Snow White land?"

"This has been me for centuries."

His eyes locked with mine. I couldn't move. "What?"

"A long time ago... a really long time ago, I... sort of dated this a fairy. And then when my father wanted me to marry this mortal princess, well, I sort of rejected the fairy. And now I can only look like this at night."

The door shook. Mary. "Tansy, are you still alive?!"

"I'm fine!" I called, wondering if I should ask her to call the police or at least burst in here and use some more fairy powers. I glared at Rowe. "I want out."

He glared back. I had a good feeling we would not be going on another date. But the nasty look gave way to a sigh. "Oh, wow. I really don't know how to explain this. You know my father?"

A horrible idea blasted into my mind, one that left me sick. I had never seen Rowe or Mr. Maser together. "Please tell me he's your father and not you."

Silence.

"You..." I shook my head and threw my hands into the air. "You what? You just pretend to have a dad? You all along?"

"Only the past few decades. I'm forced into different hideous day storms during the day. I figured the ruse would work."

"Yeah, well, it's disgusting and confusing!"

"You beauticians really are shallow." His voice was bitter as he spoke. "It's a pretty miserable life."

"I'm not the shallow fairy that cast the spell. And you're lying."

"What about all the suicides in the Beast's castle?"

I felt sick. I wanted out. "It still doesn't explain who attacked us." With that, I left the room.