Chris Bradbury raised his hand, mouth open as if to speak.
I let the tug of my physical body take hold, allowing it to pull me back to the flat, my mind racing. I had found Grimm’s lost reaper. Ash was Chris Bradbury, and he was a murderer.
But what if I was wrong? Maybe there was another explanation for his being near the body. Perhaps he’d felt the call the same way I did. It could be a coincidence I’d seen him kissing her earlier.
My path took me between two tall buildings and I sensed movement above me. I flipped over onto my back, staring up at a sky full of stars, catching a glimpse of a black shadow as it flitted onto the roof of the building on my right.
Was it Grimm or did someone else watch me when I reaped at night?
I flitted through the roof of the flat and forgot about my mysterious shadow. Someone loomed over my empty body, shaking it from side to side, and panic rippled through my astral body. What if this was the real killer?
I swept into my body and opened my eyes, staring up at Sarah. She continued to shake me and my head rocked from side to side.
I groaned, twisting away from her. ‘Leave me alone,’ I mumbled, vocal cords struggling to form the words.
Sarah collapsed onto the bed beside me. ‘Will you please stop doing that? You scared the hell out of me. I’ve been trying to wake you for ages. I was about to call an ambulance.’
I struggled into a sitting position, propping myself up against the pillows. ‘Are you crazy? Why on earth would you call an ambulance?’
‘This is the second time you’ve passed out on me. Something is seriously wrong.’
‘The only thing wrong here is you. How am I supposed to get a good night’s sleep with you barging in and shaking the hell out of me?’
‘You weren’t asleep. You were unconscious.’ She held a hand to her mouth, eyes wide and shining with tears.
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ I avoided her eyes. ‘I had two glasses of wine earlier, on an empty stomach. It kind of knocked me out.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Positive.’ I gave her a crooked smile. ‘I hear you had a busy night.’
Sarah frowned. ‘You need to tell your brother to back off.’
‘Which one?’
‘Connor, of course. He practically tried to rape me on the dance floor, said he’d heard I was up for it.’
‘You did sleep with his sister’s boyfriend,’ I said automatically, cringing inwardly the second the words were out of my mouth.
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Did you put him up to it? Was this some kind of payback?’
‘He’s friends with Logan. He probably got the “R” rated version from him. And at lunch, before he found out what had happened, he said he was getting ready to make a move on you.’
‘What did you say?’
‘I told him he didn’t stand a chance, of course.’
‘Didn’t stop him trying.’ Sarah slumped down across the foot of the bed. ‘I’ll never be able to show my face at Scene again.’
I shifted position so I could poke her in the ribs with my foot, about to comment on previous misdemeanours we’d both been involved in at Scene, when the incongruity of our proximity sank in. Sarah and I weren’t friends anymore. She had no right to come into my room in the middle of the night and get me to commiserate with her misfortune. But it felt nice, having her there, like old times, and she had been genuinely worried about me when she’d been unable to wake me up.
I knew I should kick her out of my room, slam her for getting me involved yet again, but I couldn’t do it. I missed her, though it was hard to reconcile this Sarah with the one who had slept with my boyfriend.
I sighed. ‘Can we talk about this in the morning, after I’ve slept off my wine?’
Sarah sat upright, giving me a sheepish smile. ‘Sure, and sorry for waking you. I just needed somebody to talk to.’
‘Yeah, well I need my sleep.’ I pushed and pulled until I only had one pillow under my head. ‘Can you turn the light out and close the door behind you?’ Then I snuggled under the covers. The mattress bounced as she got up and headed for the door.
The room went dark.
‘Good night, Tyler.’
‘Night.’
The door closed and I lay there, eyes wide open. I had too much to think about, the possibility of renewing my friendship with Sarah only a small part of it. I had to decide what my next move would be.
Who should I call first, Grimm or the police?
Chapter 14
If Chris had murdered one woman, it wouldn’t be a stretch to link him to the death of the one who’d been beaten in her own home and left to die. He might already be a suspect. After all, I’d met him for the first time at the police station. If I told Sam what I had seen he would have the proof he needed to arrest Chris. But how could I tell him without revealing what I’d been doing there?
Then again, maybe I didn’t have to. I can’t have been the only one to see Chris and the dead woman together at Remy’s Black Cat Club. The police investigation would surely trace her whereabouts before she’d been killed. If Chris had killed her, physical evidence would link him to the crime.
I would leave the police to deal with Chris, the murder suspect. But what about Chris, the reaper? I couldn’t think of him as anything other than Chris Bradbury, the perfect embodiment of a rich and successful playboy. If I reaped his soul based only on what Grimm had told me I could be killing the wrong man.
I also didn’t trust Grimm to keep up his end of the bargain. He had only brought me back to life because he hadn’t been able to find Ash any other way. Based on the other deceptions he’d used to get me to agree to his plan, I had no reason to think he wouldn’t kill me as soon as I gave him what he wanted. He’d said I could fulfil my soul quota alive or dead, and I was sure it would be easier for him to keep an eye on me if I was in the Underworld.
Being suspicious of Grimm’s intentions was one good reason not to go after Chris’s soul, not wanting him dead another. We had a connection. I’d felt it the moment we met even though I’d brushed it off as a result of his celebrity status. But what if it was something more?
Grimm had said Ash and I would be drawn to each other, being the only two reapers in existence who occupy a living body. If Chris was Ash, had he known who I was from the start? What if his flirting and apparent interest had more to do with my role as a reaper than any real attraction for me?
I lay in the dark, waiting for the sun to rise, hoping it would illuminate my path when it did. Chris might be a murderer as well as the missing reaper, but turning him over to Grimm would be the wrong thing to do. I could rely on the police to do their job, but my dealings with the Grim Reaper had taught me he had no scruples when it came to doing the right thing. I had too many unanswered questions and could think of only one way to resolve the issue. I had to find Chris and get his side of the story.
A daunting plan, it would put me in close proximity with a man who may be responsible for the deaths of women I shared a resemblance with. By confronting Chris I could be putting myself in danger, even though I had the option of reaping his soul if he did attack me.
I didn’t know if reaping the soul of a former reaper would count as legitimate or not. Grimm hadn’t said, and I had a feeling I’d find out the hard way this was another thing my new boss had left out. I could reap Chris’s soul only to find myself alternating between ecstasy and agony and incurring another one thousand soul penalty.
If Chris was Ash and I didn’t reap his soul before midnight next Thursday, Grimm would kill me. Chris or me, a horrible choice, an easy one if I discovered he was a murderer. But what if he wasn’t the killer Sam was hunting?
And what about me? What if I didn’t deserve to live? Was self-preservation enough of a reason to take a life?
The questions hammered at me as dawn lit up the sky. My thoughts were caught in a spinning top and I hoped by talking with Chris I could stop my world spiralling even further downwards. I
dragged myself out of bed and shuffled into the lounge in search of coffee, the fog enveloping my brain worse than any hangover I had ever experienced. While the kettle boiled I switched my mobile back on and stared at the long list of missed calls, text and voice mail messages I’d received through the night.
Two calls were from Sam, and a message which asked if I’d made it home okay. I deleted them, wanting to get rid of any link that might tempt me to make contact. I had to stay away from Detective Lockwood, no matter how much I might regret it.
Calls had also come in from Logan and Connor, messages from Andrew, and then a host of calls from an unknown number. I opened a voice mail from the same number and Chris’s deep voice filled the room, creating a flutter in the pit of my stomach.
“We need to talk. Call me as soon as you get this message.”
I could have hit the call button, but I didn’t. I had no idea what I would say to him, stunned by the way the sound of his voice made my body vibrate. I knew I had to talk to him, but I needed it to be on my terms. I sent a reply via text, asking him to meet me at the café down the road from the public library at eleven. A popular destination on a Sunday, they had a fantastic cappuccino and muffin deal I’d taken advantage of many a time before. Familiar ground, one I hoped would allow me to remain calm, collected, and in control for what had to be the most difficult meeting of my life.
When I got his text agreeing to the meeting I sat for a while, nursing my coffee, as I thought about what I would say to him once we were face to face. But holding a conversation in my head, when I had no idea where his responses would lead, proved as fruitless as drinking through a split straw. I gave up and decided to inspect my wardrobe instead. My usual Sunday attire of track pants and a shirt not fit for public viewing wouldn’t cut it. For this meeting I wanted to wear clothes suggesting I’d gone to minimal fuss but still conveying effortless style.
After discarding almost every item of clothing I owned, I settled on a patterned tunic over skinny jeans, with a cream crochet jacket over the top. A light coating of makeup and hair slicked back into a high ponytail completed the look. At half-past ten I headed off, wanting to get to the café early so I could place my coffee and muffin order and take a few minutes to settle in before Chris arrived.
I parked my car in the library car park, locked up and walked the short distance to the café. My pace slowed when I saw Chris sitting at one of the outside tables, long legs stretched out in front of him, vivid blue eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.
I took a deep breath to settle the butterflies in my stomach as I sat down. Like him, I kept my sunglasses on. I didn’t want him to see how much his presence affected me. The butterflies in my stomach were doing loop-the-loops and I found it hard to breathe when he leant across the table and gave me a devastating smile.
‘I figured you’d be a latte/blueberry girl, so I ordered you a caramel latte and a blueberry muffin.’ He indicated towards the table number on a silver frame. ‘Should be along any minute now.’
‘Ah, thanks,’ I fussed with my handbag, hiding a grimace, doing up the zip before setting it on the ground between my feet.
On cue, the waitress appeared with a tray and placed a steaming mug in front of me. ‘Here’s your cappuccino and double choc chip muffin, Tyler,’ she said with a wide smile. ‘You know, one day you’ll surprise me by ordering something different.’
I avoided Chris’s eyes as the waitress put the caramel latte and blueberry muffin down in front of him, sure I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from laughing. ‘Why would I order anything different when I know you make the best cappuccinos and double choc chip muffins in town?’ I smiled up at Cherie, aware of the frown on Chris’s face.
‘You know what they say though, about a change being good for you,’ Cherie gave a sideways glance towards Chris and then winked at me, ‘and some are even better than good.’
I shook my head at her and she laughed before flouncing off. Alone again, I faced Chris who took a cautious sip of his drink. ‘Not bad,’ he said. ‘She’s right. A change can be very good for you.’
‘Yeah, well, some things I like the way they are,’ I said as I broke off a chunk of muffin, my mouth watering at the delicious aroma wafting out of its steaming centre.
‘This is nice, isn’t it? Here we are, the two of us, enjoying a drink and some quality time together.’ He gave a slight shrug. ‘It’s not quite how I wanted our relationship to start, but it will do.’
I chewed fast, swallowing my mouthful of muffin and running a tongue over my teeth to check for leftovers before I spoke. ‘We don’t have a relationship.’
‘Sure we do. You might not think it now, but I’m about to become the most important person in your life.’ He stretched a hand across the table and took hold of mine. ‘But first we need to get a few things straight.’
I tugged on my hand but he didn’t let go and to avoid a scene I let him get away with it, for now. But I wanted him to know that he didn’t hold all the power.
‘I’ve never had to reap a soul in public view, in broad daylight,’ I said as I leant in towards him, ‘but I’m sure I could wing it. Grimm is awfully keen to get you back, Ash.’
He let go of my hand, his glare muted by his sunglasses. Then he gave a wry grin. ‘I prefer the name Chris. Ash was more of a title. Grimm has a twisted sense of humour.’
My stomach fell. ‘I don’t see anything humorous about you being Ash.’
Chris grinned at me. ‘Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Grimm thinks it’s funny to name his two top reapers Ash and Dusty. I’ve had the dubious honour of being Ash ever since I hit three thousand souls.’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘And Dusty, what did he do to deserve the name?’
‘She took on assignments of a more sensitive nature.’
‘Death has a sensitive side?’
‘Dusty was a Wraith, a reaper able to insert her soul in fresh dead bodies and use them to carry out Grimm’s bidding in the land of the living.’
‘Was?’ I placed my mug down on the table.
‘Dusty is no longer with us, thanks to you. She’s the one who killed you so Grimm could place that dainty little necklace around your neck. He needed you dead, accessible to him in the Underworld, and it was Dusty’s job to get you there.’
‘No, that’s not possible. If it was all about killing me, then why did this Dusty kill the owner and the truck driver?’ I shook my head, fighting the urge to get up and run screaming down the street. I did not want to hear this, but a masochist streak kept me frozen in place as Chris continued to crumble the foundations of my world.
He shrugged. ‘They were loose ends, witnesses. Grimm couldn’t afford to let them live. Dusty was another loose end, one he used you to get rid of.’
‘I don’t understand.’ I covered my mouth with a shaking hand, unable to take my eyes off Chris, the grim expression on his face underscoring the dark nature of his words.
‘Wraith’s have only a short span of usefulness. Slipping in and out of dead bodies rots their brains. The more times they do it, the more erratic their behaviour becomes. The current Dusty was nearing her use-by-date so Grimm got her to kill you. Then he manipulated you into reaping her soul, knowing that doing so would trap her. She will never be reborn or be able to enter another body, just another harmless lost soul floating around the Underworld. A nice tidy outcome for the Grim Reaper,’ he said in bitter tones.
‘I don’t believe you.’ But I did. I remembered what Sam had said the day before, how the coroner had been unable to explain how a dead man had disappeared from the morgue only to turn up as the perpetrator of a double homicide. I’d been killed by a Wraith, not a zombie.
‘It’s easy to spot a Wraith. They’re walking around in a dead body which is decomposing at an accelerated rate as the invading soul burns up what psychic energy is left behind by the original host.’ Chris shrugged, picking up his mug, the size of his hand making it seem tiny in comparison. ‘If no one reaps the invading
soul, they can stay in the body for as long as it holds together. Then they return to the Underworld and wait for the next juicy body to jump into on Grimm’s command.’
‘But Grimm said-’
‘Whatever it took to get you to let him hang that around your neck,’ he used his free hand to point at my necklace, ‘but what I want to know is why. Why did he make a reaper out of you, and then arrange for you to be resurrected? Still, whatever his reason, Grimm has made a huge mistake and we’re going to see he pays for it.’
Chapter 15
None of my attempts at rehearsing what to say had covered this. I couldn’t process it. I had to get back to the purpose of this meeting.
‘Grimm is looking for you. He said you were lost and he needed a living reaper to find you to reap your soul and return you to the Underworld. He said he would resurrect me if I agreed to become a reaper and search for you.’
‘Crafty bugger.’
For all the admiration in his words, Chris’s reaction seemed off. Even with sunglasses covering his eyes, I could see them narrow. He put his mug on the table and leaned back in his seat.
‘You haven’t told him you’ve found me, have you?’
‘Not yet.’
He visibly relaxed, his smile regaining some of its former vigour as he reached for my hand again. I dodged his hand by picking up my cappuccino, gulping down the rapidly cooling drink.
‘Grimm lied to you. He can turn any willing soul into a reaper, but he doesn’t have the power to resurrect anyone. Your necklace did that.’
I tapped it with one hand. ‘This resurrected me?’
He nodded. ‘When I was a reaper I’d heard talk about a powerful talisman that would resurrect whoever wore it but, until I saw it on your neck, I believed it was only a myth. One of those things reapers talked about to make themselves feel better about being chained to Grimm until they’d fulfilled their contracts.’
I lowered my eyes, disconcerted to think that something I hated with a passion was responsible for bringing me back to life.
Lost Reaper Page 9
