Origins (The Grimm Cases Book 1)

by Lyla Oweds

  The Grimm Cases

  Origins

  By: Lyla Oweds

  The rights of Lyla Oweds to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him/her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it was published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Cover Design by

  Crimson Phoenix Creations

  Edited by

  EAL Editing Services, Jessica Westover, Tara Mcnabb and Mary Swedo

  Second edition edited by

  Heather Long and Becky Stewart

  Special Thanks to

  My TAFF Family and Matthew for inspiration and encouragement

  Copyright© 2018, 2019

  All rights reserved

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The Author

  Chapter One

  Haunted

  “The place I’m house sitting is haunted.”

  My statement was brave—considering—and I hoped I’d spoken loud enough to be heard by the intended recipient. I didn’t want to repeat myself. It had taken a lot of courage—or foolhardiness—to say it the first time.

  The paranormal was one of those difficult-to-approach topics, especially with my best friend. History had proven our differences of opinion. Despite being inseparable for over ten years, I knew this was a topic where we were unlikely to reach a consensus.

  But at this point, I was desperate. I might be going crazy, and only Finn could help me.

  Yet, there was no response. No reaction.

  Across the small cafe table, Finn furiously typed on his laptop—undisturbed by my nervous confession. He’d made no outward acknowledgment of my words, and it made me wonder if he’d even heard me.

  The coffee shop was rather loud, after all.

  “Finn.” I pressed my foot against his shin, trying to get his attention. “Finn, did you hear what I just told you?”

  With perfect lips turned downward, he glanced up, meeting my gaze. His gray eyes were normally playful and light, but at the moment were sharp—disapproving. At once, I was thankful his black-rimmed glasses offered a filter for his judgment.

  “I heard you.” His distinctive baritone dipped an octave lower than normal, signaling his annoyance. “Considering the absurdity of what you said, I chose to ignore it.”

  Then without further ado, he refocused his attention on his laptop.

  I gasped. How could he be so callous and uncaring?

  Even if he didn’t believe me, he could at least hear me out. He was my best friend and the only person in the world I cared about besides my parents. But he could be such a jerk!

  I was being haunted. I could die.

  “Finn, what if I’m not wrong?” I asked, desperate. I needed him to take me seriously. Just this once. I was opening a can of worms, but I didn’t know what else to do at this point. “Wouldn’t you feel terrible if I were killed by an angry poltergeist and you could have done something to stop it?”

  “I would feel bad if you were killed by an angry ghost.” Finn pushed his glasses up his nose, dragging his gaze to mine. “However, I have nothing to be worried about. If ghosts and demons even existed, then it certainly wouldn’t be a harmless poltergeist that ended up killing you. Not with the kind of trouble that you tend to attract. You need to learn to relax.”

  My heart fell and my pulse began to race. Trouble. I never got into any kind of trouble. In fact, I was the opposite of a troublemaker. Finn was being incredibly rude. Some best friend.

  I glared at my untouched coffee while Finn returned to his homework—or whatever he seemed intent on.

  Adrenaline was rushing through me, an expected reaction to the mental build-up I’d gone through to approach this topic. With Finn so quick to shoot me down, there was nothing left for me to talk about. There was no way for me to relax, to concentrate on my own assignments.

  I had risked a lot by bringing this up.

  Finn and I were as different as could be. He was a hot nerd in all the ways hot nerds can be, including researching the most efficient way to maximize the results of his daily exercise routine. Meanwhile, I preferred to sleep in and avoid sweating at all costs. He was blunt and not shy.

  Definitely not like me.

  Sometimes I wondered how it was possible for people with contrasting personalities to be so close. Now that we lived on campus, our contrasts were more obvious than ever. He was adjusting to college life well, but me…

  I was constantly on the edge of my seat. Besides my roommate, who kept to herself, Finn was the only person on campus I was comfortable around. If it hadn’t been for our nightly study sessions, I wasn’t sure how I’d cope.

  Seeing him always made me feel better.

  It wasn’t just because I’d crushed on him since childhood. There was something about being with him that managed to put me at ease. I admired him. I always had. And throughout all of our years of friendship, he’d taken care of me.

  For ten years, he never complained about my quirks, and I loved him for it. It was for him that I was trying to step outside of my comfort zone, to earn money and test my limits by house sitting for my biology professor. If he saw I was trying to grow as a person, maybe he’d finally ask me to be his girlfriend. When Professor Hamway asked me to take care of her conservatory while she visited her daughter, I’d agreed.

  Finn had no idea why I wanted to house sit for her. However, he hadn’t objected. He probably assumed I was doing this for access to her nursery, which I adored.

  He wouldn’t be entirely wrong.

  But there was something not so great about this job—the ghost that was trying to kill me.

  “Finn.” I had no choice. I had to convince him. If I didn’t, I was going to die. He’d believed me once, so maybe he would again. “Listen to me.” I needed to convey the seriousness of this situation to him. My mind raced, searching for the words. “When I woke up last night, and I wasn’t able to move or talk. I think the spirit was trying to suffocate me. That wasn’t in my head!”

  He didn’t say anything as he hovered his hands in place over his keyboard. Instead, he frowned.

  That pause gave me hope.

  “Please believe me,” I begged. He was my best friend, he had to—

  Finn sighed and closed his laptop. He then removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose—a clear sign he was annoyed. “Bianca, what do you expect me to do? I’m not a doctor. I’ve told you that sleep paralysis is normal.”

  “Take me seriously. Please just hear me out.” I was close to tears now. I had been sure that he would listen to logic. How could he not care? I was terrified to go back to that house, but I had no choice. I had made a commitment, and I always k
ept my promises.

  And I really needed the money.

  I didn’t expect him to fix my problem. I just needed his permission. It would be rude to introduce myself. I needed him to make the introductions.

  My plan, after all, involved his brother.

  “Didn’t you say Damen is into the supernatural? Doesn’t he teach here too? If he’s nearby, maybe he could help. He might have some ideas. If you could just talk to him and—”

  “You don’t need to talk to Damen,” Finn snapped before he opened his eyes. He reached for my hand. “And I am taking you seriously.”

  His touch was a balm to my fear. Despite being scared—and annoyed—I couldn’t keep from being distracted. For a moment, my attention strayed and my heart beat so quickly that it felt as though it would fly right out of my chest.

  In those moments, nothing existed outside of the two of us. His mouth quirked and his eyes softened. In these moments, I suspected that Finn had feelings for me too. Especially based on comments he’d made in the past. Insinuations that I belonged to him.

  Being near him made me feel funny inside, but it was hard to trust myself. And we’d known each other for so long I couldn’t contemplate my life without him. I wanted to be with him forever. I had it all planned out.

  But then he spoke, and the warm feeling vanished. “Have you been taking your medication? You know what happens when you forget.”

  Terrifying shadows swam along my peripheral vision. The suffocating sensations. Feeling as though I perpetually hovered on the edge of a cliff. The sense of being hunted, never safe.

  I had to work through all of this myself. I had to get better. Despite what Finn believed, I had to learn to survive on my own. Besides, my anxieties never seemed to subside with medication. Pharmaceutical intervention was clearly ineffective. I guess I would just have to chalk this up as a difference of opinion and move on.

  Finn knew this about me. I told him many years ago. But I’d learned better than to talk about my symptoms.

  Yet, I had thought if I just had proof…something outside of my personal senses—physical proof of a haunting. Then maybe he’d understand.

  This wasn’t fair. All he had to do was show up at my professor’s home. Just once. Then he’d be able to see it for himself!

  But it didn’t seem like that would ever happen. Instead of listening to a word I said, he began to talk about my medication. If I insisted on discussing the haunting after his initial rejection, he’d worry. And if that happened, he’d tell my parents and they would get involved.

  It was unfair—but at the same time, he was trying in his own way. After all, Finn looked out for me. He cared. He tried to work with the weirdness of my life.

  He just didn’t understand…

  Regardless, it wasn’t right he’d brushed off my concerns and didn’t take me seriously. Good intentions or not.

  It became harder to breathe, and my chest felt heavy. It wasn’t often that I became genuinely angry with Finn, but the topic of my medication was always a sensitive one. “Why do you do that?”

  Why did he have to ruin everything?

  “Bianca.” He watched me with renewed wariness, suspicion lacing his gray eyes. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “I’m doing what I should,” I replied, holding back tears so he wouldn’t know how much he was hurting me. He didn’t care about my concerns, or the haunting. Right away, he assumed that it was my paranoia speaking. Why couldn’t he trust me, just this once? “Your question is irrelevant.” I needed to leave. I’d rather face the angry spirit than deal with being patronized this way.

  I gathered my notebooks and began to shove them into my backpack, no longer able to look at him. “I’ll go bother someone who wants to hear what I have to say.”

  As I turned to leave, Finn’s voice stopped me. “Who are you going to talk to, Bianca? You don’t talk to people.”

  My breath caught, and I couldn’t stop myself from glancing back at him. He hadn’t moved from his seat. The expression on his face that betrayed his thoughts: I was crazy.

  His dusty blond hair fell over his forehead. And he looked so sincere at the moment I wanted to apologize—to not be angry. He only cared. I had no reason to be upset.

  But I was.

  All he’d had to do was listen to me, and he’d refused. If I told him any more, he’d change from concerned to domineering in an instant. I couldn’t afford for that to happen.

  “Sorry to bother you.” I took a step back, which seemed to startle him. “I’ve been tired lately. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Bianca?”

  “Bye.”

  And for the first time in my life, I walked away from Finn Abernathy.

  Huddling under my covers, I tried to ignore the presence in the room. Surely it could only possibly be an evil spirit with the intention of sucking out my soul. But it wasn’t making a move yet, so there was nothing I could do about it right now.

  Currently, my greatest concern was Finn’s anger with me. I walked away earlier, not thinking things through. But what if I lost my only friend over this?

  Without anyone who cared, I might as well let the ghost drag me into the flames of eternal hell. I would welcome the journey. Perhaps a demon or two might want to be friends.

  But even more frightening—what if Finn decided to snoop around behind my back? What if he checked my prescription?

  I shouldn’t have brushed him off.

  It was one o’clock in the morning, according to the chimes of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Maybe he would still be awake. Would he mind if I sent him a message?

  I couldn’t stay angry with him. He had to know this.

  I snatched the phone from the bedside table and pulled up my contacts. I easily located Finn, considering that there were only four numbers in my contacts: my parents’ landline, their cells, and Finn’s cell.

  I wasn’t sure how to approach my apology. The best bet would be to pretend nothing had happened. It was the most foolproof way to escape this conflict.

  Me: Are you asleep already? I didn’t get a chance to say goodnight.

  I hit send before second guessing myself. While I had been the first to cave, it would essentially be up to him to ans—

  My phone chirped and I blinked at it stupidly for a moment. Never before had he responded so quickly. I had been expecting him to wait until later in the morning, at least.

  Maybe this was worse than I thought. He might actually be calling it quits and messaging me to tell me so.

  My hands shook as I pulled open the message, too curious to procrastinate. I looked across the room toward where I knew the evil spirit to be, a chill sliding down my spine. Five more minutes, then you can take me to your master.

  The heavy feeling in the room increased substantially, as if the ghost heard my mental promise.

  But it seemed as though my fears had been for naught. At least about Finn.

  Finn: What are you still doing awake? Are you feeling better now? I was worried.

  Did this mean he wasn’t angry with me? It was almost too much to consider. Then again, Finn avoided confrontation. That was one thing we did have in common.

  But how should I respond? I wanted to be honest, but I simply couldn’t. There was no way I could admit that I was certain there was a ghost sitting across from me, touching my foot over the top of the covers. No way could I admit to him that I felt as if I was living in a nightmare. It would only start another argument.

  I couldn’t even ask him to stop by, just to keep me company. It would look suspicious, considering our earlier conversation.

  No, I couldn’t discuss this with him ever again. He had made that abundantly clear.

  Me: Everything is perfect. I’ll meet you tomorrow at our usual place.

  Somehow, I ended up here—in the liberal arts building, within the maze doubling as the psychology faculty’s hallways. It was bright and early on Saturday morning. I was lucky that a staff meeting had t
aken place earlier so the building was open. True to the secretary’s directions, I had discovered Dr. Gregory Stephens’s office.

  Hopefully, Damen would be here.

  Now I needed to muster up enough courage to enact the next stage of my plan.

  I certainly hadn’t intended to stalk Damen Abernathy’s mentor when I fell asleep last night. But when I woke and discovered the dishes in the kitchen had been stacked neatly by some unknown being during the night, I just had to do this. If that wasn’t an actual physical sign of a haunting, I didn’t know what was.

  Clearly, Finn would be no help. I had no other choice but to take matters into my own hands.

  Even so, this probably wasn’t my most brilliant plan. I had never even met Damen before. Finn only ever complained about his estranged brother. They rarely interacted—each parent deciding to raise their boys separately outside of holidays.

  All I knew about Damen was his interest in the paranormal—something Finn was cynical about—and that Damen was a few years older than the two of us. Damen, to my understanding, had graduated college early and was back at his alma mater. He had an internship in forensic psychology and worked with the local police when he wasn’t student teaching.

  I braced myself, unable to move toward the door. Even if he did have an interest, would he believe me? I could be opening myself up to a whole new level of ridicule by talking to him.

  And the talking…This would be difficult. I had no idea how to interact with people. But I supposed I needed to get over it. Damen was practically family—or he would be, once Finn and I became official and finally got married. Plus, if I wanted to get technical, he was kind of a professor. And they weren’t so bad.

  Of course, if Finn ever found out I had come here…

  Well, he would be livid. But that was if Finn ever found out. If Damen and Finn didn’t interact, then maybe Damen helping me with a haunting would never come up. I would take my chances—I’d do anything to not be haunted.

  But first, I needed to work up the courage to knock on the professor’s door.