James froze, his eyes wide as he looked from me to the squirming stuffie in his hand. “Shepard Kaine, is that you?”
The sheep squirmed harder, as if in answer.
“Well . . . that’s unfortunate,” James said, sighing.
I watched in slow motion as he released the sheep from his pinched fingers.
Shep dropped into the fireplace as a scream tore through my throat.
There was a blur of black as Graves moved faster than my traumatized brain could track. He tackled his brother while his left arm shot out, grasping the stuffed animal by its back leg, just barely saving it from the flames.
The reapers fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Graves lost his hold on my brother as he hit the ground. I watched Shep somersault across the ground, only coming to a stop when he hit the wall. He let out a pitiful moan, his tiny body splayed out like a starfish.
I rushed forward, trying to dodge flying limbs as I plucked my singed brother off of the ground.
“Saaaaalem,” he said, his voice weak.
“Save your energy. I’m a little busy right now,” I growled, setting him on a nearby table.
A surge of pain in my hand had me spinning back around. Graves had his brother pinned; his right arm cocked back as he prepared to slam it back into his brother’s face. I could feel the impact in my knuckles as bone met bone. But the pain was fleeting.
A shimmer of something metallic caught my eye.
“Graves! Watch out!”
But it was too late. James had already jammed the knife into his brother’s side.
I dropped to my knees as pain tore through my body.
James’ eyes were on me as he pushed his brother’s body off of him. “Well, now that’s interesting.”
Fucking blood rite. It hadn’t even been an hour and already it was going to be the end of me.
My insides were on fire. My stomach felt like it was being torn apart. Graves fell back, hitting the floor flat on his back and trying, but struggling, to get back to his feet.
Blood poured faster from both of us.
“You two have been keeping secrets,” James said, his voice eerily excited. “The blood rite hasn’t been used in a very long time. Not since the dawn of our kind, when training reapers to be warriors was its most paramount. I’m curious how you two ended up bound together.” James scratched his chin with a bloodied hand.
“You—piece—of shit,” I gasped, struggling with my words.
James’ eyebrows lifted. “Your brother’s last words were more meaningful, but I must say I prefer yours.” He grinned diabolically. The guy was absolutely insane. When I’d talked to him a couple weeks ago he’d been cold, but he hadn’t seemed . . . crazy. But he was. Undeniably. And this whole time it was Dom I thought had killed Shep. Now, I was going to die for that mistake.
“Why?” Graves asked, trying and failing once more to get to his feet.
Fucker was killing us faster.
“Why?” James repeated, pondering the question. “I could tell you. I haven’t told anyone. But then, I’d have to give a shit what you two thought. No, I think I’ll let you go to the other side wondering.” He walked across the rickety floors.
Greater dread filled me as I saw him lift Shep from the table.
No. My words moved to say it, but no sound came out as he walked back to the fireplace and tossed the sheep in.
My only consolation as I watched the crocheted form go up in flames was that Shep couldn’t feel pain.
But me? I was still in a fuck ton of it.
I opened my mouth and inhaled as deeply as I could, and then I let out the mother of all screams.
James looked on. His watery blue eyes cold as he made no move to stop me.
“Scream all you like,” he said, smiling cruelly. “This room is warded. Not a sound in or out.”
The edges of my vision began to darken.
Goddamnit. No. I couldn’t go. Not like this. Not when I’d only just found out who killed my brother. I couldn’t let him win.
But I also couldn’t stop him.
Pressing my hand to my stomach, I leaned up, willing my torso off the ground. James stood by the fire, watching me curiously. Bastard wasn’t even scared. Why should he be? I had no weapon. No anything.
Still I crouched forward and pulled my feet beneath me one at a time.
I stood on shaking legs.
James clapped.
“You have balls. I like it. Too bad you fell for the wrong brother. Your face is rather pretty.”
If I could have been disgusted, I would have. As it was, I barely had it in me to take that first step. Then another. And another. Until I stood before him.
“See you in hell, bitch,” I said, using all my weight to throw my head forward.
I hit him square in the nose. Something crunched. He fumbled backwards, and I went with him, unable to hold my weight any longer.
Hands shoved me away and my body hit the ground hard. The pain was starting to ebb. Numbness was coming over me. The cold beginning to set in.
“I’d say you’ll regret that, but you already do.”
I couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from.
A shoe appeared in front of my face. Stars burst behind my eyes as it all went black.
The last thing I heard was Graves’ rasped breath as he laid beside me.
And then there was nothing.
20
Here We Go Again
When I came to I was standing, staring at the outside of a green dumpster and not up at the raftered ceiling of the creepy reaper room. I looked down, disoriented as I checked my body for a sign of the stab wound. As I’d already started to suspect, there wasn’t one.
“Oh, fuck, not again,” I complained.
“Salem?”
Now that, I hadn’t expected.
“Graves?” I spun toward the voice, hope mingling with fear. If he was here, what did it mean? Were we both dead-dead? Or only that in-between dead like the first time I’d snuffed it? And if I was dead for real this time, did that mean I’d get to see Shep?
“What happened? How’d we get in the alley?”
I shook my head, my eyes drinking him in. Even dead he looked fucking perfect. Why did men have it so easy? Ugh. “I don’t know how we got outside, but your psychotic brother definitely just killed us.”
“He—” Graves started.
“Is fucking looney tunes,” I finished for him.
Graves sighed. “Yeah. I don’t know how to process that yet.”
“I don’t get it,” I said. “I was so sure it was Dom. He was such an asshole. Ugh. I’m not apologizing for blaming him.” I crossed my arms over my chest, peering around the backlot behind Gamma Rho.
It was dead.
Get it?
I chuckled under my breath.
“What are you laughing about now?” Graves asked, clearly less amused.
“Nothing,” I said. “Just that that it’s dead out here. Get it?”
He most certainly did not.
“Shouldn’t there be like a white light or something?” Graves asked, looking around.
I frowned. “I’m not sure. The last time this happened Not-Morticia told me I had to go back . . .” I trailed off. “You don’t think?”
Graves gave me an odd look. “Think what?”
I scratched my head, a half-formed idea taking shape in my mind. “Where the hell is a ghost when you need one?”
“You rang?” Eddie intoned, appearing out of nowhere.
“Don’t do that,” I hissed, although I was more startled than anything.
He blinked at me. “You asked for me, and here I am.”
“Yeah, I guess I did.”
Graves was looking between me and Eddie, shock etched in every line of his face. “Salem, is that . . .”
“A ghost? Can you see them now too?”
“No . . . Rumplestiltskin.”
“Rumple who now? No, Graves, this is Eddie.”
> Graves shook his head. “No, Salem. I’ve seen the files. His clothes are different, but I recognize his face. That’s definitely Rumplestiltskin. From the Grimm brothers’ tales.”
Eddie gave a little bow. “At your service.”
“Huh. Okay, not really the point right now.”
Graves shook his head, still looking more than a little stunned. I guess it was up to me to get to the bottom of this.
“Um, Ed—I mean, Rumpy,”—the two men grimaced at the nickname, which only ensured it was permanent—“is there somewhere we’re supposed to go now?”
He looked confused. “Back into your bodies.”
“Our bodies?” I looked around as if I’d perhaps missed seeing our corpses lying on the asphalt.
He pointed to the dumpster.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, moving to lift the large black lid. Instead of budging, I went face-first into the trash can. “Ugh. Yup, there they are.” Pulling myself back out of the dumpster, I turned to face Graves. “Your asshole brother tossed us out here, probably so no one would catch him. Shit murderer he is. I don’t know how no one has caught his ass yet.”
Graves was still staring at Rumpy like he was some kind of celebrity.
“Hey! Did you hear me? Our bodies are in there.”
“So?” Graves asked, looking at me.
“So, if we want to not be ghosts for all eternity, then we need to hop back in and climb out of the dumpster so we can go kick your brother’s scrawny ass.” I grinned, already imagining the look on his stupid face when he saw I was still very much alive. Surprise, motherfucker.
“Salem, we’re dead. There is no hopping back in.”
“Correction, we’re temporarily dead. You heard Rumpy. We just need to get our spirits back in our bodies and we’re good as new.”
“That’s not how it works,” Graves said, shaking his head.
I shrugged. “Are you really going to argue about a second—or is it third—chance at life?”
Graves rolled his eyes. “We can try it your way, but when you’re wrong—”
“Then you can say I told you so and be my own personal version of Hell. Just get your ass over here.”
He reluctantly walked over and peered inside. “Are you sure about this?” he asked. “Reapers only get one death, and consequently it’s always blown for initiation.”
“Pretty sure,” I said, wrapping my arms around the metal edge of the dumpster. Using all those muscles I’d been making the past few weeks, I lifted myself up, although if I was being honest my body just sort of floated upward because I wanted it. Too bad it wouldn’t work like that when I got back.
I swung my legs over the edge and landed next to our bodies.
“Come on.” I moved closer to my own. “All you have to do is touch it—”
My words were drowned out the second I placed a hand on my ankle.
Everything faded for a brief moment and next thing I knew I was staring up at the black top of the dumpster. I knew it wasn’t oblivion by the smell.
“Ew,” I whined, moving to sit up among all the garbage.
Something stirred next to me. I jumped, banging my head on the lid. “Ow. Motherfucker,” I cursed.
“Salem?” Graves breathed; his voice soft. Confused.
“Graves!” I exclaimed. “You’re alive too. I’ll be damned.”
“Salem, what is going on? We were dead—I saw Rumpelstiltskin—and then you touched your body and—” He spoke fast, having trouble keeping up with the absurdity of it.
I reached up and flung the top back. It hit the brick wall of Gamma Rho with a clang, but no one came running. No one jumped out of the shadows. No one was waiting for us.
It was just midnight, moonlight, and us two in the dumpster.
“Give me a leg up, will ya?” I asked, turning to him.
“How are you dealing with this so . . . easily?” he asked, leaning up. Instead of lacing his hands together as I’d expected, he grabbed me by the waist and tossed.
My feet barely cleared the edge of the dumpster before I came back down. I landed in a crouch, ankles feeling weak from the jarring impact. I stood up and didn’t bother dusting myself off. There was no point. Not with blood and trash all over me. Something had leaked from one of the bags and onto my shirt that smelled awfully suspicious and made me want to gag.
Graves hauled himself out of the dumpster, landing next to me a lot more gracefully.
It might have been attractive if not for how we smelled.
“Well?” he prompted.
“Oh, yeah—well, it’s like I said. I just keep going. This is how it happened last time. For a second there I thought I was dead-dead, but apparently that’s not the case. It wouldn’t be the first time I was wrong about how death works. Anyway, at least I get a second chance at kicking your brother in the balls and making him pay for killing us . . . and Shep.” A tiny bit of sadness leaked into my voice as I thought of my brother in sheep form. The stuffie was most definitely gone, but that didn’t mean he was. Not permanently. I could summon him again.
Warm fingers brushed against my forearm. I shivered.
“Hey,” Graves said. “I’m sorry for not believing you when you told me that a reaper was involved. I still don’t see why or how James is working with a werewolf, or how any of this came to be . . . but we’ll figure it out. After a shower.”
“And food,” I added.
Instead of the usual ire I got at the mention of eating, a wry smile crossed his lips. He reached down and stuffed a hand in his jeans, pulling out his keys.
“Shall we?” he asked.
“Actually, I have a better plan,” I said, tapping my finger against my lip before realizing what I was doing and where that finger had been. I dropped my hand back to my side. “We get my purse out of your car and take my car back to my place. As soon as your car goes missing, James will know something’s up. We need to shower, and eat—and possibly eat again—before regrouping. I’m just giving you a heads-up now, your bro isn’t off the hook just ‘cause you’re related. If it weren’t for the whole being tossed in a trash can thing, I’d be half tempted to go kick his ass now.”
Graves unlocked his car, and I crossed the parking lot, quickly retrieving my purse.
“It wouldn’t solve anything, except pissing off the Council more and painting a bigger target on your back because I hate to break it to you, but—”
I held up a hand for him to stop talking as we started for the Sigma Upsilon house where my car was parked.
“I know you think I handle everything that happens to me super easily and that it seems like I don’t have any reaction. It may look that way, but that’s not exactly how it works. I’m tired. I’m cranky. I wanna beat the shit out of your brother, but I recognize I have to wait for a hot minute. So please, don’t make this any worse until I get a shower and some fucking Hostess cupcakes.”
“Okay,” he said.
I gaped at him. “Really?” I asked, not entirely sure I had heard him correctly.
“You asked me to be quiet—”
“Never mind, go back to that quiet thing,” I said, taking the back way through the bushes to avoid any unwanted attention. The sound of moans distracted me for a moment, as did the rocking back and forth of one of the cars in the parking lot.
Graves and I shared a look.
“Do you think that’s—”
“Keep walking,” Graves said, motioning forward. I shook my head, clearing my thoughts as I crossed the rest of the parking lot and made it to the Impala.
“Hold up,” I said as he opened the door to the passenger side. Opening the trunk, I pulled out a blanket. “Sit on this.”
He raised a brow. “I’m not sure a lone blanket is going to do much.”
“It’s one less seat that will have to be detailed. Just use it.”
Graves chuckled as he unfolded the blanket and sat on it. “I didn’t take you for someone who’d get prissy about the inter
ior of her car.”
Starting the engine, I gave him an incredulous look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged. “I dunno, you just—”
“It isn’t just any car, okay? It’s the one you worked on with my twin, and right now it’s pretty much the last thing of his in my life, so just—”
Graves rested his hand on my knee, cutting off the flood of words. “It’s okay, I get it. I’m sorry if I pushed the wrong button.”
“As opposed to all the other times?”
“God, you make it impossible to say nice things to you,” he said, throwing his head against the headrest.
I laughed. “Shep used to say the same thing.”
Grave tilted his head my way, his lips lifting in a hint of a smile. “Want to know a secret?”
“Haven’t you had enough of those already?”
“I think you’ll like this one.”
“Alright, shoot,” I said, gunning the engine as I got out of the town and into the less populated area.
“Shep used to tell me the same thing.”
I snickered, not at all surprised that my brother would find Graves just as stubborn and pigheaded as me. It’s why we butted heads so easily, and why we both seemed to enjoy annoying the shit out of each other so much.
Maybe Tam was right, and it was just our weird version of foreplay.
“Hey, Salem?”
“Hmm?” I replied, his question pulling me out of my musings.
“Is Esme home?”
“Oh shit,” I cursed, wondering how the hell I was going to explain our current state to her. Then I remembered who we were talking about. Esme was the queen of weird. I just had to think of some hobby that involved us being in the trash. “Do you think she’d believe that we were dumpster diving for like recycling or something?”
Graves gave me a look. “Maybe you should leave the excuses to me.”
“You’re probably right,” I agreed, barely slowing down as I made a left turn onto Mansion Lane.
A few minutes later, I slowed as I turned up the drive and parked the car. The porch lights were out, which meant Esme was either asleep or not at home. Maybe we wouldn’t need that excuse after all.
Reaper's Blood (The Grimm Brotherhood Book 1) Page 16
