In writing this book I have mined the work of many great writers and folklore collectors. Without their prolific imaginations, the Sisters Grimm could have never come to life.
I'd also like to thank my editor, Susan Van Metre, for her patience and support; Maggie Lehrman for her careful reading and excellent ideas; my wife, Alison Fargis, for her help with brainstorming and, of course, for being the best-looking literary agent in the world; Jason Wells for making me famous and for his tireless efforts to keep me that way; Joe Deasy for his friendship and laughter; my family and friends and everyone at Abrams, whose continued support keeps these books well written and well read.
SABRINA HAD NEVER FELT AS CONFIDENT as she did at that moment. For the first time in a long time she wasn't worried about monsters, villains, or lunatics. She didn't fear surprise attacks or betrayal by people she trusted. In fact, she was eager for a confrontation. Let one of the Scarlet Hand's thugs try something and she would crush them into dust! Her body was strong. Her blood was hungry. She was a wrecking machine.
She wanted to tell her sister how she felt. If only she could make Daphne understand that what was happening was a good thing, but the words were hard to find. Her thoughts were cloudy and complicated. It didn't help that everyone was shouting, and the room was filled with strong winds.
Sabrina turned to Daphne. The little girl was undergoing her own transformation. A swirling black fog circled her body, blocking out most of her face. All Sabrina could see were her eyes, like two brilliant suns illuminating dark corners and obliterating shadows.
"Sabrina, you have to stop this!" Granny Relda cried.
Sabrina was confused. What did her grandmother mean? She wasn't doing anything wrong.
"You have to fight this!" Daphne said from behind the black fog. "I know you are still in there. Don't let him control you!"
"Why are you talking to me like this?" Sabrina asked. When no one replied, she realized her words were only in her head.
"Fight him, child," a voice said from below. Sabrina glanced down. Mr. Canis lay at her feet-old and withered, his body trapped in the clutches of a huge, fur-covered paw. It was squeezing the life from the old man's chest. She cried out, hoping someone would help her pull her friend from the monster's terrible grip, but her pleas ceased when she realized the claws that were killing Mr. Canis were her own.
