“Well,” he started, opening a cabinet and retrieving two bowls. “Fortunately for you, I don’t think we should run around telling anyone. The Grimms aren’t the most welcoming to begin with, and since there’s never been a female, I don’t know what kind of reaction we’d be looking at in the Brotherhood. Especially with everything else going on . . .” He drained the noodles in the sink behind him before portioning them out into the two bowls.
“Everything else?” I asked, not so subtly prompting him.
“Shepard’s death, for starters,” he said. “The funeral was only this afternoon. He’s not the first Grimm who has died under mysterious causes in the past few years, as you know.”
Awkward tension leaked into the conversation as he silently dumped meat sauce into both bowls before sliding mine across the counter. Graves opened a drawer and pulled out two forks, handing me one as he came to sit on the barstool beside me.
“When my dad died, they said it was an animal attack—even though my dad didn’t believe in hunting,” I said slowly. “When I got the call from my aunt that my brother died from the same thing . . . you gotta imagine this doesn’t look great. Gamma Rho is what they both devoted their lives to. I always assumed it was just a frat before tonight. A crazy one, that asked way too much from its members, but a frat regardless. Now . . . I’m beginning to see that isn’t all they are. Gamma Rho is just a front for Grimm Reapers.” I stuck my fork in the bowl and twisted, wishing that it was the head of whomever killed my brother.
“You came back to figure out what happened,” Graves said, nodding to himself. “I was in the woods tonight for the same reason.”
I lifted my fork, then paused. “You told me you were checking traps.”
“Yeah, for a wolf. Both your dad and your brother died from animal attacks. That wasn’t a lie. We just left out that the animal was a werewolf and we can’t seem to find the damn thing.”
My mouth opened and closed. I looked between him and my bite of spaghetti. Starving as I was, I also sensed we were on the precipice of something. I dropped my fork and turned in my chair to face him completely.
“You’re a Grimm,” I said. “And it looks I am too. You want to find out who killed my brother. I do too. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Graves looked like he stepped in something bad as he leaned away. “I don’t know about this, Salem. You don’t even know how to use your powers or anything—”
“So you’ll teach me,” I said, maybe a little too forcefully. “And then we’re going werewolf hunting.”
5
I Am Grace(less)
“We’ll see,” Graves said, his expression unreadable.
“What do you mean? It’s practically our only option. If there’s no one else we can tell for now, you train me and then—”
“I was talking about the hunting part. Of course I’m training you. But as you said, it’s been a long night. You should eat and get some rest. We can talk about this more in the morning.”
Having mostly won the battle for now, I let the subject drop and inhaled my food. It wasn’t pretty. There were sounds coming out of me that usually only happened during what my aunt had dubbed “me time” during one awkward conversation a few summers ago. Graves was polite enough not to comment, and I was too satisfied to be embarrassed. I’d needed that meal more than I realized.
When I was finished, Graves was standing beside me holding out a napkin. “You’ve got a little something on your face,” he said, lifting my empty bowl off the counter and putting it beside his in the dishwasher.
Taking the napkin, I swiped at my face. “Maybe I was saving it for later.”
He rolled his eyes. “Cute.”
“I know I am.”
Graves snorted. “Keep telling yourself that.”
I chuckled. The back and forth with him came so naturally. Most people couldn’t handle my rough edges. Graves just sort of rolled with it, giving as good as he got. It was refreshing. Falling back into silence, I helped him load the dishwasher.
When the kitchen was immaculate once more, Graves led me back through the house toward his bedroom.
“In a house this big, you’ve got to be truly delusional if you think I’m sleeping in bed with you.”
Graves shot me a pointed look over his shoulder. “I’m delusional? Who said anything about you sleeping in my room?”
“Uh, you’re leading me to your bedroom.”
“No, I’m not,” he said, amusement flaring in his eyes. “There’s a guest room two doors down the hall from mine. You’ll sleep there tonight.”
“Oh.”
“Salem Kaine, at a loss for words. I didn’t think I’d live to see the day.”
“Please,” I scoffed. “You’ve known me for, like, five seconds.”
“That’s all it took.”
I rolled my eyes, but a smile was pulling at my lips.
We stopped outside a white door, Graves opened it and then turned to me. “I was thinking, if we’re going to be spending time together we’re going to need a cover story. If you enroll in the university, it would give us a reason to be seen together.”
“Do we need a reason?”
“If I keep dipping out to train you, my frat brothers are going to notice. They’ll want to know where I’m going.”
“Wouldn’t it just be easier to tell people we’re dating or something? That is something supernaturals in their twenties do, right?” It was an honest question. I didn’t know anything about the dating habits of supes.
Graves shook his head. “Easier maybe, but not believable.”
My eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“I don’t date anymore, Salem. My life is too messy to bring someone else into it. So for me to start all of a sudden will only draw attention we don’t need.” He looked away uncomfortably, and I knew there was more.
“What aren’t you saying?”
He ran a hand through his unkempt hair. “Your brother and I . . .” He paused, searching for words, but my stomach was already twisting in uncomfortable knots.
“I see,” I said, sparing him the truth. Anytime a sentence started with ‘your brother and I’, well, I was smart enough to know where it was going.
Graves looked over, relief crossing his features. “You do?”
“Yup,” I answered. “You swing for the other team. I’m guessing you’re the boyfriend my aunt kept telling me about. ‘The love of his life’ and all that?”
His steady relief was quickly replaced with discomfort as he shook his head. “No . . . that’s Colin. He left town after the funeral today. I was Shepard’s best friend. For me to be seen dating his sister right after he died…” He trailed off again, waiting for me to catch on.
“Oh.” I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. “Well, I suppose that makes sense. In some weird overly chivalrous universe where being my brother’s best friend means you couldn’t date me because of some stupid bro code where Shep can be the only man in my life. But sure, whatever.” The longer I stood there talking to him, the worse that ache in my chest actually grew.
“Salem, it’s”—he broke off, exhaling on a hard breath—“complicated. If you don’t want to enroll in the university, we’re going to have to find some other excuse. But for the time being, why don’t we get some sleep? It’s been—”
“A long night. Yeah. I know.” I pushed past him into the guestroom. It was whitewashed the same as everything else in this house, but at least it was clean. “See you in the morning.”
I was already closing the door behind me, more than ready to put this nightmare of a day to an end. The door was just about to click shut when I heard Graves, as clearly as though he were speaking in my ear, whisper, “Goodnight.”
I pushed it the rest of the way closed, resting my weight against the cool wood as my eyes fell closed. There was little, if anything, about the night that I’d classify as good. But at least it was over. That would have to be enough for now.
“Salem
,” a voice whispered.
It was that time of the morning when dreams blurred with reality, and I couldn’t tell if I was still sleeping or awake. I was sprawled sideways on the bed, having performed some kind of sleep yoga in the middle of the night. One foot was jutting off the side of the bed, the other was cocked over the headboard, and both my arms were tangled above my head.
“Five more minutes,” I grumbled, pulling my limbs into a tight ball and tugging the comforter up over my head.
The comforter started to slide down my body against my will. “Salem,” the voice whispered again.
I groaned. “Fuck off, Graves. Don’t you know better than to wake a girl up without at least bringing coffee?”
There was a snicker. A decidedly female snicker. I froze, suddenly wide awake. No one except Graves knew I was here. So who the hell was calling my name? My heart was beating wildly in my chest as I peeled my eyes open and sat up, warily scanning the overly bright room.
Not-Morticia was perched on the desk, looking like some kind of live-action gothic doll.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I breathed, pinching my leg hard to make sure I wasn’t still sleeping. Ouch. Okay, not dreaming, then.
“We need to talk.”
“I refuse to have any conversation that starts off that way. Especially without coffee.”
“Salem—”
“Nope. Don’t care.”
Her placid expression didn’t change, but something flashed in her dark eyes. Something that sent unease crawling down my spine. “Ignoring me isn’t going to help you.”
“I think we need to work on your definition of ‘help’ because ignoring my death hallucination seems like exactly what I should be doing.”
“You know I’m not a hallucination, Salem.”
“No,” I said, finally moving to get out of bed and giving Not-Morticia a wide berth. “I do not know that.”
“You need to be careful, Salem. They’re going to be looking for you now. All of them. They will be drawn to you. Do not ignore them.”
The familiar burn of anger was swiftly replacing any fear. “Who is ‘they’? Look, if you want to be helpful, how about you try to go with something a little less cryptic?”
A small smile lifted her lips. “Our time is up. I’ll see you soon, Salem.”
She vanished in a puff of smoke and a knock sounded at the door. I let out a heavy groan.
“Salem?” Graves called. “Everything alright in there?”
I crossed the room to open the door. “Yeah, I’m fine—” I started when a door downstairs slammed.
“Alexander?” a female voice called out. Despite it not being my house, my family, or even my dignity on the line, I froze.
“Mom?” he called back incredulously. “What are you doing home?”
Footsteps sounded, coming up the stairs. My heart started to pound. I took one look at myself and knew that without a doubt, whatever his mom might have thought of my brother, seeing me in her son’s clothes, pink hair tangled from sleep and teeth not brushed, was going to be a shocker if he never brought girls home.
I scratched the back of my head, looking between the door and the window across the room.
“Oh, your father had business to attend to. You know how it is,” she said breezily. A slight tittering laugh that made me want to groan again came from a few feet away. “What are you doing here? I thought for sure you’d be with your brothers at the Gamma Rho house.”
“I needed some space,” he said, lying smoothly. I lifted both eyebrows, wondering where the awkward derp from last night went. “After Shepard . . .” His voice thickened with emotion.
Damn, he was a good liar.
I’d needed to remember that.
“Oh honey,” his mother cooed. “Why don’t we go to Freddy’s for breakfast? I won’t even tell your father.”
“That sounds lovely, Mom. I just have to go help a friend with—”
I side-eyed the door, sensing a juicy admission coming. Leaning in, I carefully rested my ear to the wall. Or, at least, that was the plan.
Apparently all those super badass Grimm powers hadn’t kicked in yet because it was more of a falling with style and stopping via wall, than a lean and listen kinda deal.
“What was that?” his mom asked. I sensed her eyes on the door and started backing up. Scrambling like crazy.
“What was what?” Graves asked. I could hear the annoyance in his tone that was aimed at me.
Glancing between the door and the window, I grumbled under my breath, “You owe me for this.” If it were up to me, I’d rather get caught and chance her not liking me. But Graves didn’t strike me as that type, and he did me a real solid last night.
In a swift motion, I slid the window open. It only squeaked a little.
There was only one problem.
The damn thing had a screen.
Blowing out a frustrated breath, I shoved at the center of the netting and the entire thing popped out.
Tossing the screen off the side of the house, I shimmied through and climbed out onto the three-foot stretch of roof beneath the dormer window. My bare feet gained purchase with the scratchy roof panels, but my muscles protested. After all the crap yesterday, I was whole, but sore. And not in the good way.
I was only just sliding the window closed as the doorknob started to turn.
I threw myself against the side of the house, squeezing my eyes shut like that would keep them from seeing me. Sighing at my stupidity, I held my breath, praying they were in and out quickly.
“Mom—” Graves’ exasperated tone was cut off, silence swelling until he said, “I told you I didn’t hear anything.”
“Hmm,” she murmured. “So how do you explain this?”
My eyes flew open. Explain what?
“Explain what?” Graves said, echoing my own confusion.
“The bed was obviously slept in,” she said.
Good luck with that, buddy. But he didn’t need my luck. I’d already forgotten he was a master liar.
“I was a little drunk last night. I slept in here by mistake.”
“Ah, sweetheart. That’s nothing to be ashamed of. You buried your best friend yesterday. Come on; let’s go to Freddy’s. Some food will make you feel better.”
I could hear the shuffling of feet as they made their way to the door, and I felt my body relaxing, my breath leaving me in a whoosh. But I should have known better than to relax. I’d more than used up any luck I had in the bank during yesterday’s resurrection.
The sound of Justin Timberlake’s crooning filled the silence. Oh, for fuck’s sake. In the chaos, I’d completely forgotten about my phone or that it was now giving away my location.
Tamsin, your timing sucks, I mentally griped, recognizing her ringtone. Knowing it was officially time to get out of Dodge, I started creeping for the edge of the roof. I was on the second floor, but there were more than enough trees surrounding the house to make that a non-issue. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d snuck out of a house. With the way things were going, it probably wouldn’t be the last either.
Reaching the edge, I swung my legs over, my toes stretching to touch the closest branch. Once I made contact, I rolled onto my stomach, Graves’ shirt snagging on the rough roofing. The sound of voices was getting louder, but I couldn’t make out any words over the pounding of my heart.
With a muffled groan, I eased myself onto the branch, feeling the scratch of the roof against my bare skin. I hissed in pain as I moved onto the tree, looking down only long enough to see the tears in my shirt.
Great. More blood.
Ignoring the sting, I scrambled down the tree, channeling my inner wild child and praying I didn’t break my neck. Somehow I didn’t think the whole coming back to life thing would happen a second time. And I really didn’t want to put that theory to the test.
I hit the ground with a soft plop, twigs and rocks digging into my bare feet. I was swearing up a storm, trying to walk as carefully
as I could when I heard the door open.
“Motherfucker. Give me a break,” I hissed, diving into a bush.
Cat burglar I was not. This was getting ridiculous. I hadn’t even had coffee yet, and I’d already been through the ringer. If this was what my life was going to be like now that I was a Grimm, I seriously wanted to find someone I could talk to about giving it back.
“Why don’t I drive, honey?” Graves’ mom said, leading him arm in arm to an Audi R8. My jaw dropped, and it had more to do with the car than the fact that they were barely strapped in when she took off like a bat out of Hell.
Where my brother enjoyed rebuilding cars, the way they became my crutch had little to do with the joy of fixing them up and more to do with the speed behind the wheel. Everyone had a crutch. Something they knew they shouldn’t like or do. Mine was food and fast cars.
As far as I was concerned, there were worse things to love.
Though I should probably reevaluate that given it was my driving that got me into this mess in the first place.
As soon as the R8 cleared the end of the driveaway, I got to my feet and called Tamsin back.
The phone rang once before she picked up.
“Salem! Where have you been—”
“Look, I got into some trouble. I’m going to need you to pick me up at the Graves’ mansion ASAP.”
Silence greeted me on the other end of the phone.
“Graves?” Tamsin repeated.
“Yup,” I answered, waiting for the onslaught. Keys jingled in the background. A car door slammed shut. Spice girls started blaring in the background.
“I’ll be there in ten,” Tamsin said.
“Okay, see you—”
“And Salem—you better be ready to tell me what the fuck happened and why you’re hanging out with Shepard’s best friend.”
The line went dead. I couldn’t decide if I was lucky that I had a friend who would pick me up with zero notice, or unlucky because I couldn’t lie for shit.
Reaper's Blood (The Grimm Brotherhood Book 1) Page 4
