“You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve heard that.” I moved to a bookshelf across the way and studied the antique trinkets and leather tomes littering the shelves. “Hey, what’s this?” I pulled a metal item off the shelf and held it up, flipping it from left to right as I tried to make the pieces move. “Is this some sort of medieval torture device? I bet it’s a sex toy, huh?”
Harry made a disgusted sound and moved in my direction. He reached up, as if to take the device, but ultimately realized he couldn’t make contact with it and stopped before running his hand through me a second time. “That is not a toy, Ms. Grimlock. That’s an expensive antique and you’re going to break it.”
“That’s not what I asked. What is it?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
I recognized the tone. My brothers used it when we were kids and they thought I was too female to comprehend the game they wanted to play. As if you had to be smart to play tag or blow things up. Those were the only games they ever wanted to play, and no one needed brains to undertake the endeavors.
“Try me,” I pressed, holding the metal contraption in front of my face. “Seriously, is this something men used to torture women with back in the Dark Ages? It looks painful.”
“Oh, good gravy.” Harry mimed rubbing the tender spot between his eyebrows. He looked as if he had a headache, but he no longer had a body, so that wasn’t possible. “It’s a compass.”
I furrowed my brow. “My brothers had compasses when we were kids – although I have no idea why, because it’s not as if we spent any time in the woods. We’re city folk at heart – and they didn’t look anything like this.”
“It’s not a directional compass.” Harry spoke as if he was talking to a small child who just happened to be asking the world’s dumbest questions. “It’s a geometry compass.”
“Oh.” Realization dawned. Now that he mentioned it I did vaguely remember a device like this from my high school years. “That’s no fun at all.” I returned the compass to the shelf and grabbed one of the books. I read the title out loud. “Metaphysical Explanations for Modern Scientific Discoveries.”
“That’s a first edition,” Harry barked. “Put it down!”
“It sounds like a real page-turner.” I was blasé as I shook my head. “Don’t you have anything good to read around here? How about some J.K. Rowling or Charlaine Harris? I love their stuff.”
Harry looked appropriately horrified. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“Yes, I’m shocked and appalled, too,” I drawled. “The public’s need for entertaining drivel is just … there are no words.” I mock fanned my face. “Why do you have all this stuff?” I picked up a crystal and flipped it over. “You seem all straight-laced and everything, but some of this stuff is metaphysical.”
Harry was back to being haughty. “And what do you know about the metaphysical?”
“I’m a reaper. I know more than you think. In fact, I probably know more than you by virtue of who I am.”
Harry had the grace to look abashed. “Yes, well, I still think all of this is above your pay grade.”
I didn’t jolt when the bolt of lightning split the sky on the other side of the window, followed immediately by a jarring rumble of thunder, but it took me by surprise all the same. I flicked my eyes to the window and stared. “I hope this is a fast storm.”
“So you can absorb my soul and go on with your day?” Harry challenged.
“Pretty much.” I saw no reason to lie. “You’re my last charge of the day. I don’t want to spend too much time with you if I don’t have to. I’m ready to go home and be lazy.”
“I’ll bet that’s a common theme for you,” Harry deadpanned. “Are you the worst employee at the reaper office?”
“We don’t have an office.” I thought of Grimlock Manor, my father’s manor. “We do have a mansion. It has statues, a back-from-the-dead mother who occasionally drops in when she’s not eating people, and even a random gargoyle that comes and goes when things get bad. Oh, it also has snakes in the basement. My father says the stories my brothers told me when I was little aren’t true – regarding the snakes, I mean – but I know better. There are snakes down there, and they’re not the fun trouser snakes I usually like to play with. Hmm, wait, that totally came out wrong.”
“I think it came out right,” Harry shot back, his temper beginning to fray. “You’re clearly not a person of substance. In fact … I think I recognize your name. It’s very familiar to me.”
“I have a common name.”
“Right.” Harry rolled his eyes. “Aisling Grimlock. I know I recognize that name from somewhere. It was in a set of reports that recently crossed my desk. I’m certain of it.”
Oh, well, that was interesting. I considered returning to the desk so I could sort through the stacked reports, but ultimately I knew it didn’t matter. Whatever he thought he could pin on me would be hollow.
“You probably remember me because I’m the one who discovered zombies a few weeks ago,” I supplied.
“I know it will come to me,” Harry muttered, ignoring my statement. “Oh, I know.” Harry tried to snap his fingers, but no sound emerged. “You’re the idiot who thought she saw zombies on the street.”
“I believe that’s what I just said.” I calmly picked up a brightly-colored disc from the shelf. “What’s this?”
“It’s a metaphysical power distributor.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that you’re not smart enough to understand what it’s for,” Harry sniffed. “It’s for increasing wisdom – something you’re severely lacking – and you’re not the sort of person who can channel the appropriate energy to utilize it.”
I couldn’t be sure, because I knew absolutely nothing about metaphysical stuff, but I was fairly certain that was an insult. “It looks like something a kid made in fifth-grade art class anyway.” I returned the disc to the shelf. “As for the zombies, they were totally real.”
“Oh, really?” Harry made an exaggerated face. “If the zombies were real, what happened to them?”
“I fought the jerks animating the corpses and killed them.”
“You killed people?” Harry’s eyes went wide. “Are you admitting you murdered people?”
“Technically I didn’t murder anyone. My mother did. It’s totally okay, for the record. They were both bad people and were going to cause more harm if we left them to run around and wreak havoc on the community. Nobody wanted that.”
“I need to make a call,” Harry hedged, keeping his eyes on me as he shifted toward the table in the center of the room. His phone rested on it and I knew what he was thinking. Ultimately it didn’t matter, because he couldn’t lift the phone to dial it. Even if he could, no one could hear him on the other end of the call.
“Go ahead and make your call,” I suggested, grabbing a silver disc with ornate carvings and studying the intricate detail. “I can’t wait to hear what you’ll say to them. I think whoever answers the phone will get a kick out of a ghost calling to warn about murderers who ended the potential zombie apocalypse, but that’s just me.”
Harry made a series of distressed sounds as he fruitlessly attempted to grab the phone. “Zombies aren’t real,” he gritted out, frustration practically filling the room in waves.
“I bet you thought grim reapers didn’t exist until twenty minutes ago,” I pointed out, never moving my eyes from the silver disc. There was something magical about it, something almost otherworldly. I couldn’t put my finger on it. “I’m willing to bet a lot of things exist that you never believed in. If we had time, I’d introduce you to my mother. She was a reaper who almost died and now she’s some half-wraith thing. She was kept alive for years by a half-crone who thought she could manipulate magic and live forever. It turns out she couldn’t.
“Now my mother is hanging around and has a pet gargoyle named Bub,” I continued. “I kind of like the gargoyle, even though he’s all kinds of sarcastic an
d looks like a rubbery owl-dog. As for my mother, I don’t really trust her, but I’m in a real pickle because I have four brothers. All of them – whether they want to admit it or not – are desperate to have some sort of relationship with her.
“I don’t know if it’s because I’m the lone girl or simply the most rational member of my family – don’t you dare laugh – but I’m the only one still fighting the issue,” I said. “I want to trust her. I mean … she’s my mother. That means she’s earned a modicum of trust, right? I don’t know that I can, though. Even though she’s done all the right things and helped us, I can’t help feeling something is terribly off.”
“Drats!” Harry swore under his breath as he tried to wrap his fingers around the phone. “I can’t interact with the physical world.”
“No, you can’t.” I licked my lips as I surveyed him. “What are you even trying to do? Do you think you can call your precinct and have me arrested for what I told you? How do you think that would end?”
“I have no idea how it’ll end,” Harry replied calmly. “I only know that there were some lingering questions regarding you, specifically what you were doing wandering all over the county once you were a suspect in a murder, and I think my detectives should know that they were wrong to close the case.”
“They weren’t wrong.” I shifted my eyes to the window as the storm lessened. That was good. It would allow me an opening to absorb Harry’s soul and escape. I slipped my hand into my back pocket for my scepter. I found it in the other pocket, but thankfully it was there and I hadn’t misplaced it (which has happened more times than I can count and absolutely infuriates my father). “There are a lot of things in this world that you can’t possibly understand, Harry.”
I was mildly sympathetic to his plight, but I was also tired and ready to put this day behind me. There would be no more messing around. Of course, if I told my father the story of this interaction he’d think I’d done nothing but mess around and give me a lecture because … well, I think he just likes lecturing people. It’s what keeps him young. He really didn’t get me at all if he thought I did nothing but chat with the dead to amuse myself. I’m a professional, after all.
“I still think you should be investigated for what happened,” Harry pressed. “Several bodies were discovered, and I’m guessing you were tied to all of them.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Harry.” I offered my calmest smile. It was the only one that didn’t look as if it was straight out of a horror movie. “I wasn’t tied to all of them. The bad guys were.”
“You’re a reaper. You’re essentially walking death. Doesn’t that mean you’re one of the bad guys?”
“No.” This time my smile was genuine. “There are things out there much worse than us. Be glad you don’t have to face them. You’re getting off relatively light.” I brandished the silver scepter. “Are you ready to go into the light?”
It was a lame joke, but the best I could do under the circumstances.
“Absolutely not,” Harry sputtered. “I’m not ready to die, and the case isn’t closed on you.”
“Maybe not. You won’t be the one conducting the investigation, though. Take heart in the fact that you’ve done your level best, but it’s time to move on.”
“I don’t want to move on.”
I didn’t let him muster further argument, instead absorbing his soul and cutting off whatever else he was going to say. I took a moment to study the room once he was gone, glancing around to make sure I’d left nothing out of place.
Then I headed toward the front door to finish my day. What I found on the other side was the last thing I wanted to see, which meant I should’ve been expecting it.
“Son of a … !”
2
Two
The air was musty when I stalked down the front steps and fixed my best friend and mother – who just happened to be standing on the front sidewalk – with the darkest look in my repertoire.
“What do you two think you’re doing here?”
Jeremiah “Jerry” Collins, my partner in crime since I was five, offered up an amiable smile. “Hey, Bug. I haven’t seen you all day. I wondered where you disappeared to.”
I knew him too well to fall for his innocent act. “I got up late and didn’t have time for breakfast. I had a container of yogurt, which tasted like crap because it’s basically health food, and I headed straight to my first charge because I didn’t want to be late and risk Dad’s wrath. Griffin was supposed to tell you.”
In addition to being my fiancé, Griffin Taylor was also my roommate. Jerry used to hold that title and still lived next door, so we’d gotten into the habit of heading to Jerry’s house – he was a masterful cook, after all – for breakfast almost every day. Griffin and I were lazy on the domestic front, so we were fine with it. Jerry enjoys breakfast guests because he’s a doter at heart, and I can avoid work because I’m intrinsically lazy. The only drawback to the situation is that Jerry takes it as a personal affront when I miss breakfast.
“Griffin did tell me,” Jerry supplied. “He also split your serving of peach waffles with Aidan so nothing went to waste. I simply wanted to check and make sure you were safe.”
I narrowed my eyes, which were a violet color that almost everyone noticed and commented on. They were a family trait I shared with my father and brothers. The only member of the family who didn’t boast purple eyes was my mother, who steadfastly studied the landscaping on either side of the walk rather than insert herself in the conversation. It was a strategic move.
“And how did you even know where I was?” I challenged, shoving my scepter in my hoodie pocket and surreptitiously scanning the neighborhood to see if we were drawing a crowd. “I don’t believe I shared my itinerary for the day with you, so … this is quite the coincidence.”
“I was out taking a walk with your mother and we happened to stumble across you.” Jerry adopted an innocent expression I recognized from childhood. “It was purely coincidental.”
“You just said you were checking on me,” I reminded him.
“I believe you misheard me.”
“Oh, geez.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I can’t even … I’m going to tell Aidan you looked at his iPad, by the way. The only way you would’ve known my schedule is to look at his work files. He’ll be angry and you’ll be punished.”
Jerry’s smile was serene. “What makes you think I don’t like being punished?”
Ugh. He knows exactly how to weird me out. When he first hooked up with my brother – my twin brother, for the record, so that makes it doubly weird – I didn’t handle things with grace and acceptance. He was hurt and annoyed at my reaction. I really can’t blame him. It wasn’t my finest moment. Occasionally he picks the oddest times to set me off. I’m convinced he does it as payback for my memorable meltdown.
“Yeah. We’re not going to talk about that.” I flicked my eyes to Mom and found her kneeling next to a dark bloom I couldn’t identify. It was spring in Michigan and the flowers were starting their inevitable comeback. Even before Lily Grimlock disappeared for a decade – we thought she was dead and, in truth, she wasn’t far from it – she was a horticulture enthusiast. “What are you two doing in this neighborhood if you’re not looking for me?”
“We’re looking at landscaping,” Mom replied, straightening. She flashed a smile that reminded me of the mother I’d lost and smoothed down the front of her black coat. Since returning from the dead she opted for more muted colors. “Jerry wants to plant some flowers around his back patio.”
“Yours, too, Bug,” Jerry added. “I think your back patio is completely lacking in personality, and I can’t have an ugly patch next to my corner of perfection.”
“I don’t like flowers.”
“You like flowers,” Jerry countered. “You just don’t understand them … and you hate bees. Maybe we should take a landscaping class or something.”
That sounded absolutely horrific. “I’m good.”
I remembered that well from my youth. “Well … .” It wasn’t that I wanted to dissuade her from offering. In truth, I was on the fence when it came to spending time with the woman. I loved my mother beyond reason and mourned hard when she died. The woman who came back, though, was not my mother. At times she showed hints of the person she used to be, but she was so much more than what she presented to the outside world that I couldn’t force myself to look past the oddities.
“You don’t have to, of course,” Mom said hurriedly, her pale cheeks flushing pink. “I didn’t mean to pressure you.”
I ignored Jerry’s scornful stare and forced a smile. “I guess a few flowers wouldn’t hurt.”
Jerry clapped his hands, excited. “Yay!”
Despite the overwhelming love I felt for him because he was one of the few constants that didn’t share my last name, there were moments I wanted to punch him in the groin. He knows exactly how to manipulate me, which is beyond frustrating. “So, other than landscaping, what are you guys doing out here?” I gestured for them to move along the sidewalk. “This is the police chief’s house,” I explained. “Someone is bound to come looking for him, and it won’t be good if they find us here.”
“Good thinking, Bug.” Jerry tapped the side of his head and grinned. “As for what we’re doing here, I got some samples back and we need to look at them.”
Of course. I should’ve seen that coming. Jerry was more invested in the wedding than I was. I was invested in the marriage – and even though I had a few fears knock me for a loop from time to time, I firmly believed the marriage would be good – but the wedding itself was cause for constant headaches.
“Oh, you’re not going to make me look at a bunch of white napkins again and maintain they’re different colors, are you?” Memories of Jerry’s linen assault from the week before flooded to the forefront of my brain.
Grim Tempest Page 2
