Only The Lonely (A Death Gate Grim Reapers Thriller Book 1)

by Amanda M. Lee

  “I like to think of myself as intuitive. I read people fairly well.”

  “You’re clearly humble, too,” I drawled.

  “I am,” he agreed. “I believe humility is necessary for a balanced life.”

  He was also clearly oblivious to sarcasm, but pointing that out seemed the wrong way to go. “I’m happy here. I have no idea if I’ll stay, but I’m happy here for the time being.”

  “Because your parents lived here when you were a child? Did you come back because of them?”

  The question threw me for a loop. “How do you know about my parents?”

  “I’m privy to all personnel files.”

  “Yes, but ... why would you bother to even look me up?” And why did he pretend to know nothing about my past, including the time spent here, when that obviously wasn’t true?

  “Because I always like to know the people I’m dealing with,” Mason replied without hesitation. “You’re technically in charge here. The library discovery could be of significance. We’re still going through all the books we collected. That could take months.”

  “My understanding is that the books, while potentially valuable, didn’t offer anything new,” I countered. “You seem to think they’re a big find.”

  “I think there’s definitely potential for a big find,” he clarified. “I can’t say anything with any degree of certainty until I have proof, but I feel in my bones that something big will come from the discovery.”

  He sounded sure of himself. “May I ask why you volunteered to come here?” I was honestly curious. “From what I’ve heard, you prefer spreading your talents to other finds ... ones that include talismans and one-of-a-kind items.”

  “You don’t know we haven’t found any one-of-a-kind items.”

  “I have a fairly good idea you haven’t,” I argued. “I saw the books. While some of them are beautiful, and will probably fit into the reaper library quite well, they don’t seem to offer anything out of the ordinary.”

  “Do you read Sumerian?”

  “No.”

  “Then how do you know that?”

  His tone was so icy it made me want to jab him with a hot poker to loosen him up. “Let’s just call it a hunch.”

  “Or you listened to that would-be researcher you were working with and he told you what to believe.” Mason’s lips curved downward. “You shouldn’t listen to him. You should listen to me. I’m an expert.”

  He was also big on tooting his own horn. “I don’t really care either way,” I said finally, opting to take the conversation in a new direction. “I was interested when I thought the library might be able to help us figure out what the wraiths were doing, but that doesn’t seem to be the case, so I don’t really care where the books end up ... or what we learn from them.”

  “Knowledge is always important, no matter where it comes from.”

  “Sure. I’m a big fan of knowledge. I’m also a big fan of catching the enhanced wraith. I don’t think anybody is safe as long as it’s running free and feeding on souls at such a fantastic pace.”

  I realized my mistake too late to take it back. I shouldn’t have let the increased soul collection tidbit slip in front of someone outside of the core group.

  Intrigued, Mason leaned forward and pinned me with a penetrating look. “What souls are you referring to?”

  Crap on a crap log. Why can’t I ever keep my mouth shut? “It’s a hunch,” I offered hurriedly, hoping Mason was so self-absorbed he would believe the lie because boredom with a conversation that wasn’t about him would force him to look elsewhere for entertainment. “I’m working on a theory that we can trace the increase in souls to the source and find the wraith. I plan to tell my boss about my theory tomorrow.”

  That was a complete and total lie. I’d already called Cormack with an explanation regarding what we’d found in the numbers — and he was definitely interested — but I had no plans to take it further than that. In truth, I didn’t know what the numbers meant. Wraiths sucked souls so there was nothing to collect. An increase in souls would signify rampant death, but if the wraith was responsible, why wasn’t it eating them?

  “So ... you think that the wraith that escaped — and I’ve only heard a minimum about that because wraiths aren’t my forte, so I apologize — but you think that wraith is killing people and a team of hunters will be able to track it that way.”

  I shrugged. That was as good an explanation as any. “Basically.”

  “What if you’re wrong?”

  I shrugged. “If I’m wrong, no harm done. If I’m right we’ll be able to trap and kill it. That’s what everyone wants, so ... that’s the thing to hope for, right?”

  “Of course.” Mason bobbed his head, his expression thoughtful. “I guess I didn’t give it much thought. You assumed the wraiths were after the books in the library. What would they want with the books?”

  “I don’t know. At first I thought they were going to try to cross over through the gate like the first wraith. They got distracted by me when I locked myself in the closet. When I discovered the library, I couldn’t help but wonder if the wraiths were looking for answers there instead of the gate. Now I’m back to the starting point. I don’t know what the wraiths wanted, but it’s clear something weird is going on.”

  “We live in a paranormal world. Something weird is always going on.”

  “This is weirder than normal.”

  “Apparently so.” Mason’s smile turned indulgent. “I’m always up for a good tale. Tell me more about this wraith. As I said, I haven’t heard much. I would like to know more.”

  “Okay, but it might take a while.”

  “We have an hour for lunch. Thrill me with your story.”

  I FELT DRAINED AFTER lunch with Mason. It wasn’t that he was annoying — okay, he was, but it wasn’t only that. He was also tedious, a constant questioner and so full of himself I couldn’t fathom how he didn’t explode under the pressure of his own hot air.

  “You look beat,” Oliver teased when I returned to the gate room. “How was lunch?”

  “Terrible.”

  “Where’s your friend?”

  “He’s chatting up Claire O’Reilly in the restaurant. He doesn’t seem to pick up on social cues. I’m convinced she’s going to hit him over the head with a frying pan and I don’t want to be present because that will mean answering questions from the police when his body disappears.”

  “Good idea.” Oliver beamed as he turned back to his computer. “By the way, you have a visitor.”

  I glanced around the room. It was just Oliver and me as far as I could tell. “Is my visitor invisible?”

  He pointed toward the open door that led to the library. “In there.”

  I fixed him with a pointed look. “Who is it?”

  “Black hair. Purple eyes. Loud mouth.”

  Braden. I wasn’t expecting him to return until later this afternoon. Apparently he couldn’t wait. That gave me a little thrill ... and I hated myself for it. I never fancied myself a girly-girl and here I was getting giddy at the prospect of spending five minutes with a man I hadn’t even kissed. What was wrong with me?

  “I’ll take care of him.”

  I left Oliver to finish his work and strode to the library. I had to force myself to maintain a normal speed, which was another embarrassment, but I pushed it out of my head as I swung into the room. Instead of finding Braden — who I’d planned to congratulate for not interrupting my lunch — I found one of his doppelgängers perusing the empty shelves.

  “Aisling?” I made a face, confused.

  She turned slowly, her smile in place as she rested her arms on her stomach. If possible, it was even larger than the last time I’d seen her ... which wasn’t very long ago. She seriously looked ready to pop.

  “Hey, Izzy.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I was bored.” She shifted from one foot to the other, probably to alleviate the discomfort, and glanced back at the sh
elves. “My father said you found a library here with a lot of books. I don’t see any books.”

  “Edgar Mason took them. He thinks they’re a rare find.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think he thinks a lot of himself and it’s best to let him believe whatever he wants to believe. Anything is better than listening to the man talk. He has only one topic he feels is worth conversation.”

  “Himself?”

  “Yup. Do you know him?”

  “No, but I know the type.” Aisling sighed as she sank into the open chair to her left. The table and chairs remained dusty, but she apparently didn’t mind. “My feet hurt again.”

  I couldn’t hold back my smile. “Is that why you came? It’s okay if it is. I understand you’re dealing with a lot of pain and I want to help if I can.”

  “I came because I’m bored and sick of the men in my life telling me what to do,” she fired back. “I’m pregnant, not an invalid.”

  Her huge stomach made me want to question that assertion, but even nine months pregnant I was certain she could physically take me if she put enough effort into the attack. “They’re not trying to smother you with testosterone. They’re simply trying to do what’s best for you. They believe protecting you is the single most important thing they can do.”

  “I don’t need protection. I’m not in danger.”

  “I think we’re all in danger while that wraith is on the loose.”

  “That wraith isn’t hunting in any neighborhoods I’m visiting, so I’m safe. For the first time in two years I’m not at the center of trouble. They should be happy about that.”

  “Because you’re not happy about it?”

  She shrugged. “It’s not that I’m unhappy,” she clarified. “I don’t want anything to happen to the baby. I’m a little nervous about how my life is going to change. They should realize that locking me up does nothing but cause my irritation thrusters to fire on full. I need room to breathe.”

  The way she phrased it made me nervous. “Do they know where you are?”

  “They think I’m taking a nap in my old bedroom at my father’s house.”

  “How did you get here?”

  “I stole my father’s car. Don’t worry. I didn’t take one of the ones that looks like a penis, one of his midlife-crisis mobiles. I took one of the ones in the back. He won’t notice.”

  “He’ll notice you’re missing.”

  “It’s a huge house and I told him I was taking a nap. He’s busy researching whatever you told him when you called earlier. He won’t notice I’m gone.”

  I had my doubts, but I decided now wasn’t the time to push her. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Entertain me, of course.”

  Her grin told me that was going to be a painful prospect. “You’re going to be obnoxious, aren’t you?”

  “You have no idea.”

  Twenty-Six

  Aisling was a complaint machine. I had no idea if she was this way when she wasn’t close to giving birth, but her personality grated in a way that set my teeth on edge.

  “And then I told him that I won’t wear that stupid watch because I know he wants to use it to track my every move,” she continued with what I was certain was the longest story known to man. “It’s an Apple Watch. That means it has GPS. He thinks he’s smarter than me, but he’s not.”

  “Hmm.” I studied the graph Oliver was watching with interest. “The numbers seem normal so far.”

  “They do to me, too,” Oliver agreed. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. The Grimlocks are the most active group, and they don’t usually send until later in the afternoon.”

  A balled-up food wrapper hit the side of my face, causing me to swivel quickly and find Aisling’s eyes lit with annoyance. “Do you need something?”

  “Yes, I need attention,” she drawled. “I came here to have an adult conversation, something that doesn’t revolve around how many cases of diapers I think we should have ready for the big day and whether or not I want one of those bassinets with the handles so I can carry the baby around like a purse.”

  “Well ... how many cases of diapers do you think you need?”

  “I don’t want to talk about diapers.”

  “She was talking about her watch,” Oliver volunteered. “She thinks her husband is trying to spy on her with it.”

  I looked at Aisling’s bare wrist. “Obviously it’s not working.”

  “That’s because I put it on one of my father’s giant lion statues. I don’t want to be spied on.”

  “Have you considered he wants you to wear the watch so he can talk to you in case of an emergency?” I challenged. “You can place and accept calls on those things. Maybe he’s worried that you’ll forget your phone when you go into labor.”

  “Trust me. I never forget my phone.”

  “Fair enough. I still think he’s simply trying to be an attentive husband. You should give him a break.”

  She narrowed her eyes to dangerous lavender slits. “Did he force you to say that? Bribe you, maybe?”

  I didn’t want to laugh. It would probably make things worse. I couldn’t stop myself. “No. I’ve met him. He’s devoted to you. I think most women would kill for a husband that devoted.”

  “I don’t question his devotion.”

  “What do you question?”

  “His methods. I’m not his child. This is his child.” She pointed toward her stomach. “Sometimes I want to strangle him for doing this to me. And, yes, I blame him. She kicks and pokes constantly. I could never forget her.”

  I stilled, amusement and worry warring for supremacy. I decided to change the subject back to something familiar, something we’d already discussed, but I couldn’t quite remember the specifics. “I thought you didn’t find out if it was a boy or a girl.”

  “We didn’t, but I know. It’s a girl. She’s going to be my penance for a childhood spent driving my father insane. He blames me for all his gray hair. I want to be upset about it, argue and stuff, but I know he’s right. I’m about to get a whopping serving of karma and I’m not looking forward to it.”

  I risked a glance at Oliver and found him smiling. He was clearly amused by Aisling’s show of petulance.

  “A little girl might be fun,” I offered, searching for the right way to soothe her ... or at least shut her up. “You were a girl. You turned out okay. Well, except for the whining. I think that should go away as soon as you give birth, though, right? That’s not a normal thing, is it?”

  Aisling’s glare was back. “I don’t whine.”

  Oliver and I snorted in unison.

  “You’ve done nothing but whine since you got here,” Oliver countered, shaking his head. “It’s okay. I’ve dealt with a lot of whiners over the centuries. You’re an amusing whiner, if that makes you feel any better.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Centuries?”

  “Years,” Oliver quickly corrected. “I meant years. What? She keeps talking and it feels like centuries since we’ve had any quiet in here. Sue me. I said what I thought without thinking. I should fit right in with this group.”

  He wasn’t wrong. Still, part of me felt bad for Aisling. “She’s coming up on the big day. She can’t help it if she’s nervous. I think the edginess simply takes the form of whining. In a week or so, we won’t even remember she acted like this.”

  “Oh, you’ll remember,” Aisling countered, her expression going dark. “I’ll never let you forget. In fact, I’m going to make you babysit. You too, Mr. Talk Before You Think. I don’t know you, but I’m guessing you’re a fine babysitter. I’m going to line up babysitters so I can nap once this kid comes. She’s never going to let me sleep. If you believe my father, he swears up and down he didn’t sleep for a full four months after Aidan and I were born. I believe in karma, so that means I won’t sleep for eight months.”

  “You and Aidan are twins,” I pointed out, hoping to find something to calm her nerves. “Your parents didn’
t sleep after that because they had infant twins and three other children under the age of five. You won’t have the same issues.”

  “I hope not.”

  “You won’t.”

  “Are you saying that because you’ve seen something with your woohoo magic?” she asked hopefully.

  “No, I’m saying it because it’s obvious. You’re not alone.”

  “My mother and father weren’t alone either.”

  “That’s not what I meant. You and Griffin aren’t alone because you have a father and a bunch of brothers who are going to help you. Braden told me that your baby will be the most spoiled kid ever.

  “He’s actually looking forward to being an uncle,” I continued. “He’s going to help. I’m betting your other brothers are equally excited. They’re going to do everything they can to make things easier for you. Your father wants to be the world’s best grandpa, so he’s going to help.

  “So, despite all that, how do you figure you’re alone?”

  She blinked several times in rapid succession. “I guess I didn’t look at it that way,” she grumbled after a beat. “Still, I’m allowed to worry about these things. I can’t do anything else. I can’t work. I can’t go shopping. My father says I can order things off the internet and he’ll pay, but that’s not nearly as much fun.

  “He also says I can order whatever food I want, or put in a special request for candy, and he’ll make sure I get it,” she continued. “He’s bending over backward to make sure I have everything I need.”

  “He sounds like an ogre,” Oliver intoned, his fingers flying over the keyboard when a new batch of data started scrolling across the screen. “The Grimlocks are starting to dump their souls. It looks as if they had a busy day.”

  Aisling craned her neck to see the computer screen without getting up from the chair she insisted was now permanently melded to her butt. “What are you guys so interested in? You’ve had your heads bent together since I got here. What’s up?”

  “I don’t know that anything is up. It’s just ... we noticed a discrepancy with the soul numbers yesterday, between what we’re expecting to get and what we actually get.”