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Grim Girl: A Grim Reaper novel (Reaper Files Book 1)

Page 20

by Nicky Graves


  When I arrived home, I jogged up the stairs and opened my bedroom door. My room was dark, but I detected a figure sitting on the bed. Either that or my mom had dumped my laundry in a pile on my bed for me to fold and put away.

  “Vance, if that’s you, I’m going to be pissed.”

  There was no answer, so I reached over to flip on the light switch.

  Lawson was sitting on my bed, slumped over with his back against the wall.

  “Lawson!” I hurried over. I knew he couldn’t die without the assistance of Azrael’s scythe, but he looked as though he was just one breath away from his final. I touched his hand. “Lawson?”

  He cracked open his eyes and then closed them.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “Azrael,” he said, barely having the strength to utter the whispered name.

  “You should be at home in bed.”

  “No one . . .” he took a labored breath, “. . . should be alone . . . when they . . .”

  He stopped.

  He didn’t have to finish. I knew the word well.

  “I tried,” he whispered.

  “You did more than try,” I said, sitting next to him. The bed compressed, and Lawson slowly fell against me, his head coming to a rest on my shoulder. His soft, dark hair tickled my neck.

  “Are you in pain?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Can I do anything for you?”

  “Yes.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t . . . make me . . . talk.”

  “Oh, sorry.”

  He leaned his head back against the wall, which looked as if it took a lot of effort.

  “I want to ask how you had enough strength to shift here. But I won’t make you talk.”

  “Ranger.”

  “Is Ranger here? No, sorry. Don’t talk.”

  “Here.”

  I glanced at the time on my phone and then wished I hadn’t. “Not much time left.” I laid the phone on the bed next to Lawson. “I guess I had better return this to you.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “Treble will be happy when this is all over,” I said. “And, thank you, Lawson. For everything. I really mean it.”

  He frowned. “Treble?”

  “Oh, you don’t know yet,” I said. “The stone is actually one of seven. Treble the Blue is the one that bonded with me. He’s a cranky old man.”

  Lawson arched his brow.

  “I’m serious. I was shocked. I even took a trip to the library to find out more about him. Well, and to find a way out of the curse. I couldn’t find anything useful. And Treble is quite happy to get rid of me,” I muttered. “Want to see him?”

  He bobbed his head in a nod.

  I hopped off the bed, accidentally jostling Lawson, to retrieve the sour candy from the kitchen.

  “I want my twenty bucks,” my brother said when I entered the kitchen.

  “Tomorrow. You should be in bed.”

  I grabbed the sour candy.

  “Hey, that’s mine!”

  “How about if I give you forty dollars tomorrow?”

  He eyed me suspiciously. “What’s the catch?”

  “Nothing. I just want your candy.”

  “You hate sour candy.”

  “I changed my mind. Do you want the money or not?”

  “Yeah. Fine.”

  I kissed the top of his dirty head. “Love you.”

  “Ew! Gross!” He swatted me away. “Stop being weird.”

  When I settled back on the bed next to Lawson, I held up the candy.

  “Treble shares my taste buds. We don’t like this candy.” Just as I was about to place it on my tongue, Treble emerged.

  “I’m not a carnival monkey for your amusement,” Treble groused.

  “Treble, meet Lawson. Lawson, Treble.”

  Lawson stared at the blue man. “Real?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Real. And he’s very ornery. Nearly knocked out a guy for trying to kiss me tonight.”

  Lawson narrowed his eyes. “Vance?”

  “No, just a guy from high school.”

  “Kissing is for marriage,” Treble said.

  I popped the candy into my mouth, making both of our faces screw in disgust.

  “Stop!” Treble ordered.

  I took the candy out and tossed it into the garbage. It was more for my benefit than his. Treble shook off the last of the aftertaste and disappeared.

  Lawson stared at the spot where Treble had been.

  “Weird, huh?” I asked. “Think about what it feels like when he’s inside of me. He’s angry with me now. I can feel his emotions like I suspect he can feel mine.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “Neither did Ranger. He was shocked too.”

  Lawson’s hand was slow and shaky when he slipped it into mine. “You . . . are . . .”

  Lawson passed out before he could finish his thought. His head lulled to the side near my shoulder. I picked up the pillow and wedged it between my shoulder and his head so he’d be a little more comfortable. Just like his presence was making me.

  I stared at the clock on the wall, waiting for fate. There were many regrets that passed through my mind. However, it was truly too late to do anything about them.

  When black smoke filled my room, I said, “Goodbye, Lawson.”

  26

  I stood from my bed as black smoke filled my room. It swirled in the air before forming the black snakes I was beginning to know well. Azrael appeared in his billowing robes that shadowed his face, his deadly scythe poised in hand.

  My stance blocked Lawson, who was passed out on my bed. Still recovering from his last round with Azrael, I didn’t want Azrael to finish the job. Only one person in the room was cursed to die, and unfortunately, that person was me.

  While I knew I was going to die, I was still unprepared for it. For weeks I had thought my destiny was to become a reaper, only to find out that Azrael had other plans for me.

  I spared a glance at the clock on the wall to see I was officially eighteen years old. As far as birthdays went, this one sucked.

  Azrael shifted the scythe, hooking the blade on the back of my neck.

  “I see you have your reaper to transition you,” Azrael said, looking at Lawson.

  Unfortunately, Lawson was in no condition to transition my soul.

  “I was thinking of what to give you for your eighteenth birthday,” Azrael said, his voice not disguising his delight at my vulnerable position. “Especially after that skirmish. You know, the one where you tried to have my own reapers betray me.”

  “You betrayed them a long time ago,” I said, knowing I had nothing to lose. “You and your blank reapers. While the rest of the reapers work hard with the growing population, where are you?”

  “I hunt the truly sick and depraved.”

  “People like you?”

  He nudged the scythe, the blade biting into my skin.

  “You confuse me with human filth,” Azrael said.

  “Human or not, filth is still filth.”

  His snakes hissed as he yanked me closer to glare at me at point-blank range. “You know nothing, child.”

  “I know that you cursed an innocent child,” I said. I didn’t like to think of myself in those terms, but if it was for the argument, I’d use it. “One who has no choice in what happens. Isn’t that what filth does, prey upon innocent children?”

  I wasn’t sure why I was arguing with him. It wasn’t like my fate would change because of it. But I guess if I couldn’t wound him physically, maybe a couple of jabs to his ego might make me feel a little better. It certainly wouldn’t injure him.

  “I’m going to enjoy killing you,” he said, grinning. “And now that you’re cursed, not even Treble can stop me. On your knees.”

  “Why?”

  He smiled. “Because I command it.”

  “And if I do, you’ll kill me. And if I don’t, you’ll kill me. I don’t see the point.”r />
  My knees buckled, and I found myself kneeling before Azrael.

  “Much better,” he said.

  He raised the scythe. As he swung, I closed my eyes. It would all be over in a second. It was almost a blessing. The last few days had been a torment as I thought about all the ways I might die or who I would miss the most. I thought about the things I hadn’t done. Regrets. Regrets were probably the things that hung heaviest. But it would all be over soon, and I could find out where souls went.

  The blade hummed along my neck. The energy of the slash burned against my skin, but as far as I knew, I was still alive. Hesitantly, I glanced at Azrael, who still wielded the scythe but looked as confused as I felt.

  I was still alive. Tears flooded my eyes in both relief and fear.

  He tried again. I flinched as the scythe soared at me. But it stopped just short of lopping off my head.

  “It’s not that I want to die, but toying with me is cruel,” I said, my voice cracking under the strain.

  “I’m not toying with you, girl. Just stay still.”

  Azrael swung again, and I flinched again.

  But by his tenth attempt, I no longer flinched.

  “Maybe it’s broken,” I said.

  “It’s not broken. Something is wrong.”

  “Yeah, like it’s broken.”

  He glared at me and then asked, “What did you say your last name was?”

  I couldn’t remember what false name I had given him last time. “Cook.”

  “No, you said a different name.”

  “Then why are you asking me if you know?”

  There was a knock on the door, and the knob began to turn.

  “Honey,” my mother said as she opened the door. “What’s going—” She stopped when she saw Lawson on my bed. “You have a boy in your room!”

  “Don’t freak,” I said, side glancing at Azrael, who stood prominently in the room like an enormous basilisk but was invisible to my mother. “He’s sick.”

  “Then he should be at home, not in your bed,” she said.

  “You’re right,” I said, trying to shoo her out. “I’ll wake him up and tell him to go.”

  She looked down at him. “Just how sick is he? I don’t want him collapsing on the way home.”

  “He’ll be fine.”

  She looked at Lawson again and shook her head. “Riley, you can’t bring boys into your room. You have to set a good example for your brother,” she said. “He’s impressionable.”

  David was a doofus.

  “Graves,” Azrael said. “Your surname is Graves. Why did you lie?”

  How did he know?

  “Wake him up,” Mom insisted.

  I stood and poked Lawson in the arm. He didn’t respond. I did it again.

  “He doesn’t look good,” she said.

  Azrael looked from my mom to me and then back again. “Do you have the mark?”

  I wasn’t sure what mark he was talking about, but I still couldn’t answer him with my mom in the room.

  “So, how’s Mr. Ranger?” I asked my mom. “Have you seen him recently?”

  My mother blushed as she normally did when speaking about Ranger or being anywhere near him.

  “I’ve seen him,” she said. “But we aren’t talking about him, so stop switching the subject. We’re talking about you sneaking a boy into your room.”

  Lawson looked more like he was mid-twenties than a boy.

  Azrael’s robe dissolved, along with the snakes, leaving him as I had seen him on the street previously. Wearing jeans, a green flannel shirt, and boots, he could pass as a normal human. His long, dark hair was tied back in a low ponytail. Sideburns slashed down on his face.

  “Your mother is Diane,” he said, looking closely at my mother. He had moved within arm’s distance of her.

  “We will discuss this at length tomorrow,” Mom said. “But you do need to get him home to his parents. Do you have his parents’ number? I’ll call and have them pick him up.”

  “I don’t have that information.”

  “Check his phone.”

  “You want me to reach into his pocket and get his phone?”

  She didn’t say yes, but she didn’t say no. She just looked at Lawson. “I suppose that wouldn’t be a good idea.” She sighed. “Fine, just let him sleep for a while. You sleep downstairs on the couch.”

  “Okay.”

  She held the door open wide as I walked through. She closed it as soon as we exited, leaving Azrael and Lawson in the room. I wanted to tell her she was probably making the king of death upset, but she wouldn’t have believed me, and I’d only prolong the inevitable. I needed her back in her room and out of harm’s way.

  Azrael appeared in the living room just as we walked in.

  “Show me the mark,” he said.

  I grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and sat down. “Well, good night, Mom.”

  “Good night. And don’t let me catch you back in your room.”

  “You won’t.”

  “Good.”

  She paused for a moment.

  “What?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “I just felt something. It was like a memory was in the air.”

  “What memory?”

  She paused again. “Nothing important. Just something from long ago.”

  She retreated upstairs, leaving me alone with the scary reaper.

  “What mark?” I asked when I heard her door click closed.

  “The mark of the heir.”

  “No idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Take off your clothes,” he insisted.

  “Ew! That’s not happening, pervert.”

  He opened his mouth as if to argue and then stopped. “I’m not . . . I’m only trying to find the mark.”

  “I have no marks. Just skin.”

  “You don’t have any birthmarks or skin blemishes?”

  “No. I have a scar. But that was from my cousin trying to use me as a human rocket. He was grounded for a year.”

  “Let me see.”

  I pulled up my pant leg and showed him the pink welt near my knee.

  “That’s not it.”

  “I know. Would you mind telling me what this is about? You’ve been acting very odd since you had a scythe malfunction and you saw my mom.”

  “Your name is Graves.”

  “Yeah. We established that.”

  “Your mom’s name is Diane.”

  I groaned. “Yes. What’s the point?”

  “Who is your father?”

  “Mom won’t talk about him. Said he was someone she really liked but their relationship ended before she found out she was pregnant with me. She had no idea how to find him to let him know.”

  “Did she say what his name was?”

  “Learza or something like that. Sounded Italian.”

  While he had looked angry before, he now turned thunderous. “That’s my name spelled backwards. I use it when I have to talk to humans.”

  “So . . . you’re saying . . .” I stopped. I couldn’t finish my thoughts. It was too horrible to even contemplate.

  “You’re my daughter.” He cursed. “This shouldn’t have happened. You are not supposed to be the heir.”

  “Heir?”

  “A girl. A mere girl,” he said with distinct distaste.

  “Girls have come a long way since your day. But I’m still trying to wrap my head around this. You and my mom—”

  “Had sex.”

  “Disgusting.”

  “Your mom was . . . is quite beautiful.”

  From my talk with Lawson, reapers were known to have casual relationships with humans. He said it was lonely as hell being a reaper, dealing with endless death. But with my mom?

  “So, you and my mom . . . did things, and I was the result. And you’re my dad. And I’m some sort of heir with no mark. And you want me dead. But your scythe won’t work.”

  He cursed, and I took that as a yes.

&nbs
p; “You didn’t know this before?” I asked.

  “No, I didn’t know you were my bastard child.”

  Ouch.

  “I meant about trying to kill me. Why can’t you?”

  “You are the heir. My scythe must somehow sense our shared DNA. However, the curse will still hold. I had been hoping to be the one to kill you, but either way, you will die before the day is over.”

  Smoke began to rise out of the floor and wrap around him, cloaking him once again. “You will become a reaper, but don’t even think about taking over. You are no match for me. And I will find a way to kill your immortal body.”

  “Take over what?”

  “My place.”

  “As king reaper?”

  “As Death.”

  He shifted, and I was left to wonder what in the hell had just happened. Tears flooded my eyes in sheer relief that I was spared from his scythe. I wiped them away and took a deep breath. This was no time for emotions. I had to figure out what to do. Azrael was not done with me.

  Repressed emotions plagued me. For so long I shoved away feelings of abandonment. I knew I’d never find my dad. But a part of me wanted to. A small voice told me I’d find him and he’d be happy to know he had a daughter. That small voice withered.

  I was Azrael’s daughter and he was not happy.

  I shivered at the thought, but it did make sense as to why I would be a reaper when there were no other female reapers. The dead scroll came back to mind, and I pulled out my phone so I could read it again.

  Treble materialized in a blue fog in front of me. “Intolerable. Intolerable, I say.”

  “I have to agree. I share DNA with that creepy guy.”

  “And you’re not dead.”

  “The curse remains.”

  “But you will survive as a reaper. We are then still bonded.”

  “I’m not too thrilled you’re still stuck inside of me either.”

  He harrumphed and crossed his stubby arms, glowering at me.

  “You were taken from Azrael,” I said. “So maybe someone can take you from me.”

  He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Yes, perhaps. However, Azrael didn’t bond with me like you did.”

  “How did he use you?”

  Treble frowned. “He used my energy to make his scythe stronger. An accessory to his weapon and nothing more. I was easy enough to steal. You, however, I may be stuck with.”

 

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