The Grim & The Dead

by Amanda M. Lee

  “I have absolutely no doubt about that.” Griffin was grim as he drew Aisling toward the door. She didn’t look too worried. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, and if I didn’t know better I would think she was a bit unsteady on her feet. That was probably the martinis working their magic. “We need to swing by Aisling’s room so I can get my gun. Then we’ll head to the main floor.”

  I balked. “You can’t shoot anyone. What if one of the workers accidentally tripped the alarm? Although ... .” I trailed off, something occurring to me.

  “What?” Griffin barked.

  “I didn’t set the alarm.” I absently rubbed the back of my neck as I thought things through. “That means the butler must have set it. I think he normally does it, but he just worries about the doors and windows most of the time. We all have fobs to let ourselves in the house in case we don’t return until the system is already set.”

  “Okay.” Griffin clearly didn’t grasp what worried me. “Why is that a problem?”

  “If Tolliver set it, that means we should be alone in the house,” I replied, choosing my words carefully. “If we’re alone in the house, there’s no chance of anyone accidentally setting off the alarm.”

  “Which means we need my gun.” Griffin tugged hard on Aisling’s hand and drew her behind him. “Come on, baby. I’m going to lock you in your room and check this out.”

  Aisling, who had remained quiet for most of the conversation, immediately started shaking her head. “No way. I’m going with you.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  Aisling narrowed her eyes to dangerous slits. “Fine. Do what you want ... you big, bossy butthead.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Griffin was focused as we walked down a flight of stairs and headed toward Aisling’s room. I wasn’t thrilled that he was taking charge. However, because the only other weapons in the house were locked in my father’s weapon room, I didn’t see where we had many options.

  “You stay in here and lock the door,” Griffin admonished Aisling as he grabbed his gun from the dresser and checked to make sure it was loaded. “Braden and I are going to check things out. It’s probably nothing — maybe a bird hitting a window and breaking it or something — but we need to make sure.”

  Aisling folded her arms over her chest. “What makes you think I’m going to allow you into this room when you get back given the way you’re bullying me?”

  “I think you need to learn the correct definition of ‘bullying.’ I’m protecting you.”

  Aisling was having none of it. “Whatever.”

  “You can punish me later.” Griffin leaned close and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Lock the door and keep your phone close. If you hear something, call for help. Don’t run out and investigate. Do you understand?”

  My sister, never one to back down even when faced with absolute proof that she was being a dolt, continued to glare. “I’m angry. I’m going to make you grovel when you come back. In fact, don’t come back without ice cream.”

  “That’s a promise.” Griffin kissed her again before striding toward the door. “Come on, Braden. We need to figure out if there’s someone in the house.”

  I moved to follow, but I slowed my pace long enough to snag Aisling’s gaze. “Sometimes I wish I was the girl in the family.”

  “You are the girl of the family,” she shot back, causing my spine to stiffen.

  “Knock it off,” Griffin hissed. “You can fight later..”

  “My sister is right about you being bossy,” I grumbled as I followed him out the door and listened on the other side of the threshold as Aisling engaged the lock. “You’re definitely a bossy butthead.”

  “And you’re exactly like your sister.”

  “That’s a horrible thing to say to the guy serving as your backup.”

  “Duly noted.”

  WE SEARCHED THE FIRST floor for almost thirty minutes before giving up. The security system alerted on the back door, which was off the kitchen. It was closed, though, securely fastened. The deadbolt was in place, as was the security chain. We looked for an intruder anyway, but came up empty. We even went to the basement, but there was no one there.

  Eventually, Griffin grabbed a tub of ice cream, a can of whipped cream, a jar of maraschino cherries and a canister of sprinkles from the kitchen — and two spoons — and offered me a half-hearted wave before heading upstairs. I had no idea what he was going to do with Aisling when she was all sugared up, but I figured that was his problem.

  I searched the house again, but only because it felt like it was my duty as man of the house, and then retired to my room. The game was already over and I was exhausted, which meant it was time to get some sleep. We had a full roster of souls to collect the next day.

  I slept hard, was down for the count the second my head hit the pillow, and woke feeling refreshed. The feeling lasted only until I hit the dining room and found Aisling and Griffin inhaling a huge platter of pancakes.

  “Thanks for waiting,” I said dryly as I stomped to the coffee station in the corner of the room. “I’m so glad that you two are getting a warm breakfast and I’m getting cold pancakes.”

  Aisling, who also looked well-rested, merely smirked. “I see someone got up on the crabby side of the bed this morning.”

  “I was in a good mood until I saw you.”

  “You’re such a grouch.”

  Griffin, his coffee mug in his hand, leaned back in his chair and watched as I poked through the pancakes and came up with a few offerings from the bottom. They were less likely to be cold. “Is this how you guys were as kids?”

  “Is what how we were as kids?” I asked as I sat across the table from them. “Where’s the syrup?”

  “It’s by your elbow,” Aisling answered. “Are you blind?”

  “Not this syrup.” I knew I sounded whiny, but I couldn’t help myself. Aisling was absolutely rubbing me the wrong way. Even worse, she knew it. That only emboldened her.

  “Do you need the one with the chick on the bottle?” she challenged. “Mrs. Butterbuns.”

  “Mrs. Butterworth,” Griffin corrected. “Why are you guys fighting about syrup?”

  I ignored the question. “Not Mrs. Butterworth,” I countered. “I like the stuff that has the butter already mixed with the syrup.”

  “Because you can’t add your own syrup?” Aisling challenged.

  “I simply like it better. Why is that a crime?”

  “It’s not a crime,” Griffin answered, reaching across Aisling’s plate to snag the bottle at her left elbow. “That’s the syrup your sister likes, too.” He handed the bottle to me. “As I said, you’re exactly alike.”

  “Does that mean you want to rub whipped cream all over me, too?”

  “Not quite.”

  “Well, at least we agree on that.” I doused my pancakes with syrup, adding a little extra while glaring at Aisling, and then capped the bottle before switching topics. “I take it no one broke into your bedroom last night and killed you. That must mean the security system was malfunctioning.”

  “I tracked Tolliver down this morning,” Griffin said. “He claims he set the security system the same as always. He’s not sure why it malfunctioned.”

  “How can you be sure it malfunctioned at all?” Aisling asked, her mouth full of food. “Maybe there’s a murderer in the house and he’s hiding in the basement with the snakes.”

  Griffin cast her a fond look. “Is it any wonder that I fell in love with you, baby?”

  “Yes,” I answered without hesitation before she could. “I wonder about your sanity whenever I see you together.”

  Griffin shot me a quelling look. “If your father was here, he would yell at you for talking with your mouth full, Aisling. I’m not your father, so I’ll let it go.”

  “That would probably be wise,” Aisling said. “You know how I love it when you act like my father.”
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  “Yes, there will be no whipped cream and sprinkles in my future.” Griffin shot her an indulgent smile as I tried not to puke all over my plate. “As I was saying, though, Tolliver doesn’t seem to believe there was any way for someone to break into the house without discovery. On the flip side, he can’t remember a time when the security system malfunctioned. He’s going to reboot it today just to be on the safe side.”

  “I guess that’s something.”

  We lapsed into comfortable silence, everyone focused on their breakfast and mentally gearing up for the day. I managed to calm myself to the point I no longer blamed Aisling for ruining my life. I think it was the way Griffin added pancakes to her plate and poured her more tomato juice that got to me. They were sickeningly sweet, but also adorable. Their intersection was soothing, a phenomenon that baffled me.

  Of course Aisling waited until I was calm to spring her next dose of annoying sister nonsense on me.

  “I got the list of charges for the day from Dad’s computer and already doled them out,” she said. “I did it geographically, like you did yesterday. We should both finish right around five. I know we would like it to be a little easier, but I guess things could be worse.”

  I gripped my fork tightly as the anger I thought stowed reappeared.

  “I shouldn’t be too late tonight as long as something doesn’t break,” Griffin offered. “It’s mostly paperwork as I’ve closed all of my open cases. I was thinking we could go out to dinner before heading back here tonight. There are a few restaurants on the water we haven’t tried, and I know what a big fan of seafood you are.”

  “Yes, if I see food, I eat it,” Aisling drawled.

  “That’s an old and lame joke.” Griffin tapped the end of her nose. “I expect you to do better. That one place that’s just down the way, the one with the purple roof, has crab legs on special tonight. I checked online.”

  Aisling brightened considerably. “My favorite! You’re, like, the perfect man.” Aisling shoved her final bite of pancakes into her mouth. “You’re always thinking.”

  “Yes, I’m thinking about what a class act my girlfriend is.” Griffin snickered as she elbowed him. That’s when I finally found my voice.

  “You already doled out the assignments for the day?” I challenged, hating how shrill my voice sounded.

  Aisling nodded. “Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”

  “Um ... yeah. I’m the one in charge.”

  Instead of acquiescing, rather than admitting she’d done wrong and apologize, Aisling rolled her eyes. “Oh, will you get over yourself? You’re not the boss of me.”

  “I’ve been a reaper longer than you. That means I’m the boss.”

  “No, I talked to Dad about this yesterday,” Aisling countered. “I asked him if you were the boss, and he said no, that I was responsible for myself, and you and I were working together this week.”

  Ugh. I rarely wanted to kill my father, but the emotion was near and dear to my heart today. Okay, that’s a lie. I’ve often wanted to kill my father. Not physically, but metaphorically. It’s not because he’s a bad man or anything. He’s a good man. He just always gives my sister her way. It’s annoying ... like you wouldn’t believe.

  “I’m not trying to be the boss of you,” I offered. “I’m trying to make sure our days go smoothly. That’s me being your friend.”

  “Oh, that was so lame,” Aisling drawled, causing Griffin to snicker.

  “I don’t want to pick a fight, Braden, but that was ridiculous,” Griffin said. “Why can’t you guys just share the duties? Like, you can be the boss one day, and your sister can be the boss the next day.”

  I snapped. “You’ll do anything to make Aisling happy, so you always take her side ... even if she’s annoying and no one should take her side.”

  “It’s not about taking sides. I don’t see why you two can’t get along.”

  “Because I’ve been a reaper longer than her and that makes me the boss.”

  “Whatever.” Griffin shook his head. “Try not to kill each other today. You won’t be able to run fast enough to get away if she’s not here when I get off shift later tonight.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Aisling’s mouth. “As for you, the same goes. If your brother goes missing, you’re going to be in big trouble.”

  “He’s being mean,” Aisling protested. “He’s not the boss of me.”

  “And I’m too old to insert myself in the middle of this argument,” Griffin said. “I honestly don’t care which of you is boss. What I care about is that you’re safe. Don’t send her to any dangerous jobs, Braden. If you do, she’ll tell me, and you’ll be in trouble when I get back.”

  Haughtiness washed over me. “You’re not my boss ... and I’m not afraid of you, so stuff it.”

  “Yeah, you two are nothing alike.” Griffin slid me one final look as he shrugged into his jacket. “Keep her safe or … ”

  “Like I said, I’m not afraid of you.”

  “Fine, let me rephrase that,” Griffin growled. “Keep her safe or I’ll call your father and tattle. You might not be afraid of me, but I know you’re afraid of him.”

  I was determined to keep my bravado in place, but it slipped. “I won’t let anything happen to her,” I said finally. “I never let anything happen to her, do I?”

  “No. Keep the streak alive. That’s all I ask.”

  5

  Five

  I decided to take Griffin’s advice and allow Aisling’s schedule to stand, but not for the reasons he envisioned. Secretly, I expected something bad to happen — perhaps a soul would be overlooked or we wouldn’t finish until well after quitting time — but I was rather surprised when I looked at my list and realized she’d managed to streamline it in a way I probably wouldn’t have attempted.

  I had no intention of giving her credit for coming up with something that worked, but I was mildly impressed. Of course, I was completely annoyed, too. If she hadn’t distracted me I could’ve come up with the schedule myself. Now she was going to call Dad and tell him what she did and suck up all his accolades ... as she always did.

  Was it any wonder she drove me crazy? Don’t answer that. I know I sound like a loon. Aisling is the one who forces me into this predicament, though. She’s obnoxious and she knows it. More importantly, she revels in it. There’s nothing more annoying than watching my sister revel in anything.

  When we were kids, my father repeatedly said, “Life isn’t a competition.” He usually said that when my mother was around because she grew irritated by our antics. Redmond was the oldest, so Cillian and I were always struggling to keep up. Our entire reason for being when we were kids was to one day beat him at something.

  Aidan, being the youngest boy, knew that wasn’t possible, so he focused on other things. Sometimes I thought he was the better for it. He enjoyed competing with Redmond, Cillian and me as much as the next person when it came to sports, but he wasn’t manic about being at the top of the Grimlock pile.

  Aisling wasn’t worried about that either. She had her own pile because she was a girl. She also had queen status because my father graced her with it. The need to compete was driven out of Aisling because she’d already won. Sure, she enjoyed fighting with us — tattling was her forte — but she never considered herself in competition with us. Aisling’s competitive spirit manifested in other ways, like with her arch nemesis Angelina Davenport. That didn’t mean Aisling wasn’t in it to win it while my father was out of town. She wanted to win ... but only because she found genuine amusement in making me lose.

  Yeah, she’s a total troll when she wants to be.

  My first charge of the day was a bummer, which is why Aisling probably gave it to me. Even though she irritated me, I wouldn’t give her grief for sending me to the children’s hospital to absorb a young soul. Aisling rarely played the “but I’m a woman” card, but in this instance I gathered her ovaries most likely hurt at the mere thought of taking a small child to the other side.

>   Because the hospital bustled with activity — of the happy and sad variety — I used my ring to turn myself invisible and planted myself in the corner of the room to wait for four-year-old David Parker to shuffle off the mortal coil.

  He looked to have leukemia or some form of cancer — at least that was my guess given his lack of hair. He was all bones and sunken eyes, and my throat clogged when I caught him looking in my direction. His parents sat on either side of his bed, each grasping a hand. I could tell they were both barely holding on. They were determined to be strong for David, but they would fall apart when they thought he was gone.

  David was close. He had barely any energy and was slipping away fast. Despite that, he didn’t look at his parents. He kept staring at the corner where I stood, to the point I glanced over my shoulder to see if someone was standing behind me. When I looked back, David met my gaze.

  The look on the boy’s face broke my heart. He knew he was going, that death was near, and yet he seemed fixated on my corner of the world. I’d heard about people close to the veil being able to see reapers, even when they wore the ring, but I’d never witnessed it. To be part of the taking of a little boy made the experience all the more humbling.

  David opened his mouth, perhaps to question my presence, but no sound escaped. Instead, he merely sighed and closed his eyes, his last breath coming out as a long hiss as the machines began droning to announce the end of his life.

  His mother, a blonde with shadows big enough to hide in under her eyes, burst into tears as his father buried his face in his son’s shoulder. I wasn’t the emotional sort — you couldn’t be in this line of work — but I sincerely thought my heart might break, and even though I understood why Aisling passed the assignment to me I wanted to throttle her for it.

  Then David’s soul appeared, detaching in a wisp of a second, and took a step back from his body. Souls didn’t feel sickness or disease, so the boy standing before me was full of color. He flashed a quick smile in my direction before focusing on his mother. “They’ll be okay, right?”