Micah swung her feet off the bed and moved toward the adjoining bathroom. Perhaps a bubble bath would help cleanse the icky feeling she had. On her way out of the room she said, “He asked how a shadow managed to jump into this body.”
Anna sighed and shook her head.
After twisting the brushed nickel knob, Micah shook bath crystals into the tub. “He called me a shadow.”
"I told you to stay away from him." Anna said from the bedroom.
Micah groaned as she sank into the hot, bubbly water and shut her eyes. Yes, Anna had warned her about Sully, but Micah hadn't been prepared for his seduction. She should have put a stop to his fondling, but she’d been too caught up in the moment. Plus, the man was a gifted kisser. The way he'd devoured her mouth left her fantasizing about him tasting her elsewhere. Although the door was locked, it didn’t keep her resident ghost out for long. Anna appeared in the steamy room and tried to peer at herself through the condensation on the mirror. She gave up then paced the small area between the tub and sink, deep in thought.
Micah sank lower into the bubbles and shut her eyes. “Why do you dislike Sully so much?”
“I died fifty years ago.” There was an accusatory tone in Anna’s voice as she came to sit on the closed commode lid. “I was working as a candy striper at the hospital at the time. Eighteen years old and I thought I had all the time in the world. I never had a boyfriend, never even got to go on a date."
Lilac infused bubbles were no longer calming. Words seemed so inadequate, but Micah said them anyway. “I’m sorry.”
"I thought my whole life was ahead of me. I planned on going to college, meeting a guy and falling in love. I dreamed of a fairy tale wedding, white picket fence, a couple kids, and a family dog. But all that was ripped away from me."
The water in the tub had cooled considerably. "How did it happen?"
The teenager planted herself on the edge of the tub. “James Sullivan came into the hospital with some minor injury. That’s how they do it, you know?”
“The Reapers?” Micah pulled the stopper and watched the lukewarm water swirl down the drain.
“Reapers are great pretenders. That’s how they do their job. Sully pretended to be hurt so he could get close to me. I helped patch him up. He patted me on the shoulder and said thanks. That was it. That’s how he did it. He murdered me.”
Dry and wrapped in a towel now, Micah whirled to face the ghost. “Oh my God, Anna!”
“Murdered me, reaped my soul. Whatever." Anna lowered her gaze and pouted. "Same difference as far as I’m concerned.”
Micah moved toward the adjoining closet. What had he done to reap the real Micah’s soul? And if he'd taken Anna's, how old did that make him exactly?
Anna drifted through the wall, into the bedroom. She said, “I went to the laundry room right before the end of my shift at the hospital. I was going to get sheets and gowns out of the dryer like I always did, but it blew up. A piece of machinery went through my chest, and I died instantly."
The ghost stared at her own reflection in the dresser mirror. "I refused to cross over, wouldn’t believe I died. I was so worried about my mom and dad. How would my little brother feel?”
Micah thrust her head through a clean t-shirt then gaped at her friend. “You became a shadow?”
“Not exactly. I opened the door, but didn’t go through.” Anna’s image flickered. “James Sullivan lost patience. He pushed me across the threshold. He didn’t even give me a choice. He forced me to cross over so I wouldn’t become a shadow.”
"Is that really a bad thing, Anna? The one I saw today was frightening."
Anna’s shoulders sagged. “You can’t just hang out in purgatory. I was taken to an office where a man called Death gave me a choice. He said I didn’t have to cross over to my idea of heaven or hell, but there was a condition. I had to guide others as a shepherd.”“That doesn’t sound too terrible.”
"I’ve had to watch Reapers kill all my friends, my family … there's no one left. They’ve taken them all. I’ve watched everyone I care about die. I’ve even guided them through the doorways leading out of purgatory.” Anna's voice drifted away along with her image. “Sometimes, I don’t know if being a shepherd is a gift or a curse.”
Chapter Seven
Sully moved down the hospital corridor after the mark had been delivered to the shepherd waiting on the other side. When he spotted Micah Munroe breeze through the sliding glass doors, he decided to stick around. He’d behaved badly the last time he saw her, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why. He’d been doing this job for ages, and no one had ever affected him like this. Not since Sarah.
He twisted the silver ring on his middle finger and frowned. Thoughts of Sarah hadn’t haunted him in a long while. It had been close to a hundred years since she’d lived and died. Why would he think of her now?
****
He’d been a Reaper for many years and knew things like love, marriage, and children were never going to be an option for him.. Then Sarah came along, and he forgot all about those rules.
In a cruel turn of fate, Sully had been the one sent to reap the soul of the woman he loved. Even knowing it was inevitable, he nearly lost his mind with grief. He would have refused, but knew another would be sent in his place. Sully couldn’t imagine someone else doing the deed. He thought it would be easier for Sarah if in the throes of death, it was his familiar face she saw. He’d been terribly mistaken.
He went to see her that afternoon with the understanding that it would be the last time he'd do so.
She was coming back from a ride around her father's property when he arrived. Sarah’s horse spooked when it stepped too close to a snake. Clover, which was a gentle giant of a horse and far too big for such a petite woman, reared up.
Sarah clung to the beast’s mane, cooing words meant to soothe. Nothing worked. The snake lashed out, and the equine stumbled backward. Horse and rider spilled over the edge of the rocky bluff. The incline wasn’t so steep, at least not enough to kill her during the fall. The equine, however, tumbled atop her, crushing her beneath its massive body.
Heartsick, Sully made his way down the steep embankment. “Sarah!”
He fell to his knees beside her, afraid to touch her—afraid of never touching her again. She was a broken mess. Her bodice and skirt were torn, covered in blood and dirt. Some of the bones in her legs were visible. Pain radiated from her frightened eyes as he held her close.
“I’m so sorry, Sarah.” He stroked a thumb across her cheek.
“James.” Sarah’s eyes fluttered shut and her features relaxed slightly. Her soft Georgia accent grew faint as she slipped away. “I suppose we’ll have to postpone tomorrow's wedding.”
He held Sarah in his arms until her heart stopped beating. His broke into a million pieces.
It had been one of the hardest lessons he’d had to learn. Since then, he hadn’t allowed himself to get close to or care about anyone.
****
He stealthily followed Micah and her annoying ghost. It had to be the mystery surrounding Micah that drew him. This overwhelming attraction he felt, the inability to get her out of his head, had to have something to do with that mystery. It was nothing more than that. Once he deciphered this riddle, her charm would no longer sway him, and he could decide what needed to be done. And he’d better do it fast because all he could think about was how badly he wanted to fuck her.
Following her toward the elevators, he overheard her whisper to Anna. “I just want to ask the doctor if he remembers a woman being brought in around the same time the old Micah was. You said I died by overdose.”
“I did?” Anna spotted Sully lurking nearby and made an ugly face.
“I just want to know who I was.” Micah sounded lost and unsure as she jabbed at the elevator buttons. “You know, before I became Micah. I need some kind of closure.”
The doors hissed shut, effectively silencing the rest of their conversation.
S
ometime later, Micah came out of the building alone and moved down the sidewalk toward her car. She was lost in thought and didn’t notice him as she bent to stow her purse inside.
Sully examined the curves of her body and marveled at how unlike the original she was. It was then he decided to follow her and see where she went next. There were worse ways to spend an afternoon.
She was constantly on his mind. Their make-out session at the condo a few days ago had fueled some rather decadent fantasies. The problem was his fantasy girl was probably a shadow and definitely a liar.
According to the good shepherd, whoever Micah had been died an untimely death. Had she not had the sense to go through the doorway on her own, Micah would have become one of those foul shadows for sure. Anna had just happened to be there when she crossed over, but had been unprepared to lead her onward. Anna hadn’t been able to coax Micah down the corridor and through a doorway that would lead to her special forever. Micah had turned back, flinging herself through a nearby doorway. Anna claimed that none of the doors should have opened unless it was meant for her. She surmised that Micah got lucky and fell through to a body that had just been vacated. Of course, when he’d questioned Anna she was scared and angry. She’d probably tell him anything to get away from him. Some people held grudges for an awfully long time.
Sully kept his distance, following Micah's car all the way to the cemetery gates at the other end of town. What was she up to? He parked his bike out of sight then moved along a row of headstones. Micah certainly didn’t look or behave like one of the shadows. She didn’t kiss like one either.
Micah seemed to be searching for a particular gravestone. She turned her head this way and that, squinting in the late afternoon sunshine.
He only took his eyes off her for a moment then she was gone. Damn it, where did she go? He turned in a tight circle and spotted something low and dark moving fast. It shot toward the mausoleum at the center of the cemetery. Two more lifted from nearby headstones and drifted in the same direction. Great.
“Micah!” He had to warn her. The shadowy spirits could be malicious and sometimes persuade you into doing things you normally wouldn’t. Things could go from bad to worse in a matter of seconds. The graveyard was the worst place she could have come.
Another rose up from the ground as he sprinted past a crumbling headstone. Its hoary grey face twisted round to snarl at him. Its eyes were dismal depths of despair as it floated up and away. It disappeared through the wall of the mausoleum moments before he reached it.
He could hear them through the stone walls.
“Join us.” Their voices blended into one woeful moan. “Be one with us.”
The cadence of their voices rumbled through Sully’s ribcage and vibrated the ground beneath his boots.
“You were never meant to return,” the devious spirits wailed.
Sully smacked his shoulder against the heavy wooden door. It was stuck, or perhaps Micah was blocking it.
Glass shattered inside. These guys meant business.
“Get away from the door!” Sully kicked it down. The old wood splintered and showered the small room.
An unnatural whirlwind blew dirt and debris around the cramped chamber. A few of the urns had fallen and scattered chunks of pottery on the floor. Dust and ash peppered his skin as the wind whipped it around. He shielded his eyes and spotted Micah in the corner. She was crouched down, covering her head as another urn teetered on the shelf above her. The clay pot shattered and sent another fine dusting of human remains throughout the room.
A particularly nasty spirit leaned forward, only inches from Micah’s face. Her eyes widened, and she flinched when the tattered flesh of its fingers touched her cheek. In a time-tortured voice it said, “He’s here to drag you to hell, girl. Don’t give the Reaper the satisfaction.”
A chunk of glass scooted along the floor, moved by an unseen hand. It nearly gouged Micah’s thigh as its jagged edge tore the material of her pants.
“Do it,” the shadowy figures coaxed as one. "Join us."
There was a depraved energy permeating the room, and Sully didn’t like it one bit. There had to be at least five of them in here, and if he didn’t get Micah out quick, they just might overpower her thoughts.
Micah picked up the sliver of glass. Her mismatched gaze slid in his direction as her fingers tightened around it. A bead of crimson ran down the side of her hand then splattered the concrete.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He inched forward and allowed the curved blade of the scythe to slide into his hand. “Put the glass down.”
He tried to keep the weapon slightly behind his back. It was too late. Judging by the way Micah’s eyes widened, she’d already spotted it.
The modified blade was curved and deadly sharp. Its handle was short and provided much better mobility. Death symbols were etched into the metal. The main difference between his blade and others was that his was a part of him, and he never went anywhere without it. He couldn’t, even if he tried.
Micah’s gaze was trained on the blade, but she had little time to voice any concerns. The spirits were closing in on her again. They were no longer happy with just taunts. Now, they swirled around, whispered their morbid suggestions in her ear, and grabbed at her. The sleeve of her blouse ripped beneath one of the shadow’s pawing hands. Another tore at her hair.
“He lies,” another murmured. “He will enjoy bringing harm to you.”
It was only a matter of time before they figured out a way to get her to use the glass against him. Or worse, herself.
His blade wouldn’t injure these unruly spirits. It wouldn’t even get rid of them permanently. But it would scatter them. He and Micah might escape while they regrouped.
The blade slashed through the first then the next. Each time the scythe sliced through one, it evaporated into nothing. Micah turned her eyes up toward him, and he motioned to her with his free hand. She scrambled on hands and knees until she was at his feet. One of her hands gripped the leg of his jeans.
One by one, the shadows disappeared with a roar of anguish and resentment. The blade vanished from his hand, and he hauled Micah up to her feet.
She gripped his forearms as a half dozen or more shadow figures appeared out of nowhere. They streamed in through the splintered door and shattered window. Some drifted up through the floor while others floated through walls.
The shadows moved as one toward Micah and Sully. Again, he slashed at the ones closest to them.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” he yelled above the deafening sound of their wails.
Micah’s body was pressed against his, and one of her hands fisted in his shirt. Her eyes radiated the fear and uncertainty she felt.
The spirits spoke as one again. “Join us.” This time when they advanced, they formed a wall of darkness.
There were too many for Sully to fight off. They began to overtake him and Micah. Their ghastly bodies and faces were everywhere, suffocating them with their number. One of them dragged Micah onto the floor. She fell onto hands and knees then struggled to get back up. The weight of the shadows pressed her down, refusing to allow her the freedom of movement.
The atmosphere in the mausoleum grew colder, and an unnatural wind howled around the corners. Pieces of glass rattled along the concrete floor until they were lifted up and spun in an invisible tornado of energy.
The enraged spirits advanced on Sully. His scythe could only do so much, and it seemed that for every one he got rid of, another would appear. Much to his dismay, they separated Micah from his side.
They covered her completely, their darkness swallowing her whole. One grasped her leg while the others grabbed at her hair and arms. They scooted her along the concrete floor, taking no notice of her screams or flailing limbs.
Sully struggled beneath the hold the shadows had on him. Two held each arm, and another was trying to force its scaly, rotted fingers into his mouth. Another who merely looked on with melancholy interest said, “Do t
he same to him as we did to the Grimm.”
He only knew of one Grimm, his friend Thomas. He managed to tear one arm loose from their grip. “What have you done to him? Where is he?”
The shadows surrounding him laughed morosely. The one who had spoken before said, “We destroyed him, just like we’ll destroy you.”
“Destroy him, destroy him,” the shadows chanted.
On the other side of the room, Micah kicked loose from those holding her. She scrambled up onto hands and knees. When the malevolent spirits swooped down at her again, she threw her hands up, palms out like she intended to push them away. A brilliant white light emanated from her hands, drowning the room in a soft glow. Light shot from her fingertips and encompassed her hands down to the wrists. Her eyes momentarily glowed white.
The closest shadows shrieked and seemed to burst into nothingness. Those that were too far away to be affected flew out the windows and door. Suddenly he and Micah were alone in the mausoleum.
Sully hurried over to her and pulled her up to her feet. “You okay?”
She looked anything but okay as she nodded. Her bottom lip quivered, and her eyes were large and watery. She was trembling from head to toe. God, he hoped she didn’t cry. He hated it when women cried. It always left him feeling so useless and confused.
He smoothed hands down her arms in an effort to calm her. Truth was, he was anything but calm himself.
“What was that?” Fat tears moistened her long lashes. “That’s never happened before.”
Instead of answering, he dragged her out into the waning sunshine. He breathed a sigh of relief when no shadows greeted them.
“Let’s get out of here before they come back.” He pulled her across the cemetery lawn, and Micah stumbled alongside him. Had he not gripped her arm, she might have fallen.
Once they reached the motorcycle, he quickly rummaged through the saddlebag and pulled out a bandana. Micah stared at the black cloth, her brows knitted in confusion.
Light the Shadows (A Grimm Novel) Page 7
