“Okay, but if I don’t like the outfit Jerry picked out I’m wearing something else,” I said, flouncing toward the bedroom.
“Don’t you dare,” Jerry called to my back. “I spent a lot of time picking out the perfect thing. I’ll be ticked if you don’t wear it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
I barely spared a glance at the pink dress on the bed as I passed. There was no way I was wearing anything pink. I didn’t even own anything pink, which meant Jerry picked up that outfit somewhere else and slipped it into my bedroom when I wasn’t looking. Instead of arguing about it, though, I planned on picking my own outfit and chucking his out the window. That would keep him quiet.
I was in a much better mood as I strode into the bathroom, my attitude happy and my shoulders light, until I glanced at my reflection and found the faceless man staring back at me.
“Holy crap!”
10
Ten
“Is something wrong?” Griffin called from the living room. I could hear Jerry say something to him in response, but couldn’t make out the words.
I stared at the faceless man and swallowed hard, opening my mouth to respond. Nothing would come out.
“Aisling?” Griffin’s voice was closer and I tore my gaze from the reflection and met his concerned eyes as he walked into the bathroom. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I gritted out, glancing back at the mirror and finding nothing but my wan reflection staring back. “I … just didn’t realize how bad my makeup looked.”
“You’re pretty no matter what.” Griffin kissed my cheek, although his eyes reflected trouble. “You’re pale again. Maybe you’re getting sick.”
“I’m fine.” I stared at the mirror, practically daring the man to return. “I swear I’m fine.”
“Okay.” Griffin lightly rubbed my shoulders. “You don’t need to put on makeup for my mother. Just wash your face.”
“I can put on makeup.” Perhaps not while utilizing the bathroom mirror, but I could do it elsewhere. I was determined to make amends for my crazed entrance the previous day. “Everything is going to be okay.” I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince him or myself.
“It will,” Griffin agreed, shifting his eyes toward the bed. “Don’t wear that pink thing.”
“Your mother doesn’t like pink?”
“No, but you don’t. Wear what you’re comfortable in. Everything else will work itself out.”
I WAS PRETTY much put together when I heard the knock on the townhouse door. I smoothed the front of my simple black T-shirt before moving into the living room, glancing around to search the corners and shadows when I saw no sign of Jerry.
“Where … ?”
“He snuck out through the sliding glass doors.” Griffin grinned as he moved toward the door. “Everything is warming in the oven. He said even we couldn’t screw it up.”
“That’s taking a lot on faith,” I said dryly, giving the ornamental mirror on the wall a wide berth as I followed Griffin toward the door. “How do I look?”
“Beautiful.” Griffin didn’t bother to consider the question before answering.
“I think you’re saying that because you’re sweet on me,” I countered. “How do I really look?”
“You look beautiful.” Griffin stilled, his fingers wrapped around the door handle. “Don’t change who you are to suit my mother. It’s her job to accept you for who and what you are, not the other way around.”
That didn’t quite make sense to me. “So you don’t want me to accept her for who and what she is?”
“Hmm. That might’ve come out wrong.” He graced me with a soft kiss. “This will be fine. I promise.”
I hoped he was right. My hope lasted exactly two seconds after he opened the door and I realized Katherine wasn’t alone. “What are you doing here?” I blurted out, causing Braden to smirk as he ushered Katherine inside.
“I’m serving as chauffeur,” Braden replied, his eyes dancing as he walked into the townhouse. “Katherine wanted to take a cab, but I thought that was ridiculous. I volunteered to drive her here and then back to the house when she’s done with dinner.”
“Yes, I just love your brother.” Katherine patted Braden’s cheek and smiled as she glanced around. “Oh, well, this is nice.”
“Thank you.” I said the words but never moved my gaze from Braden’s smug features. I shuffled closer to him as Griffin gave his mother a tour. “Don’t make things worse.”
“Would I do that?” Braden adopted a faux innocent expression. I didn’t believe it for a second. “I’m here doing a good thing. Only a good brother would offer to drive his sister’s boyfriend’s mother around town.”
I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead as I fought to contain my temper. “Well, great. Why don’t you finish your good deed next door? I’m sure Jerry is cooking something wonderful. You can hang out there until Katherine is ready to go. Or, even better, Griffin can give Katherine a ride back to Grimlock Manor and you can leave this very instant.”
“Oh, now, that would just be rude.” Braden breezed past me and glanced around the townhouse. “I’m glad to see you cleaned. That’s something, at least.”
I hadn’t. Jerry must’ve also handled that while I napped. He’s something of a Mr. Fuss About It when it comes to cleanliness. “I clean things,” I grumbled.
“Barely.” Braden arched an eyebrow. “The Christmas decorations are a nice touch. I didn’t realize you felt such a kinship with Martha Stewart.”
He was purposely trying to irritate me, but I refused to sink to his level. “Yes, well, I love Christmas.”
“I love Christmas, too,” Katherine said, beaming. “You’ve done a lovely job, especially without any normal decorations up yet.”
My stomach twisted as I fought to remain serene. “Yes, well … .”
“We haven’t had a lot of time to decorate yet, Mom,” Griffin interjected. “We’ve only been here a few weeks.”
“I thought it was almost two months,” Katherine challenged.
“It has been,” Braden offered. “I know, because I helped them move in.”
I slammed my foot into his shin, thankful we were behind the couch and Griffin and Katherine couldn’t see, and forced a bright smile for Katherine’s benefit as Braden sputtered. “Ignore my brother. He has Middle Child Syndrome. He likes attention and doesn’t care how he gets it.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” Braden muttered, his cheeks reddening as he sputtered and glared. “I’m going to … .”
“Do nothing,” Griffin warned, grabbing the back of Braden’s shirt and shifting my brother’s body so Griffin stood between a glowering Braden and me. “So, Mom, do you like the townhouse?”
“It’s very … cute,” Katherine replied, glancing around. “I didn’t realize it would be so cute.”
Hmm. In my world “cute” is one of those words you use when you really want to say it’s stupid or small. I was fairly certain I didn’t like Katherine’s tone.
“We’re quite fond of it,” Griffin said, slipping his arm around my waist. I was fairly certain he wanted to keep me close in case I hurdled the couch to throttle his mother. “We like the location, and the townhouse is perfect for our needs.”
“Yes, but … there are only two bedrooms.” Katherine pointed at the hallway for emphasis. “You have the second room turned into an office.”
Griffin cocked an eyebrow. “So?”
“So what are you going to do when you have children?”
I practically choked on my tongue as I fought to maintain control. The look on Braden’s face had me reaching for him so I had something to do with my hands. Griffin remained calm, trapping me at his side as he faced down his mother.
“Mom, we’ve been living together for two months,” he said calmly. “I think kids are a little ways off when it comes to our life plan.”
“I’ll say.” Braden snorted. “If Aisling turns up pregnant before she gets marr
ied my father will kill Griffin. I’m not exaggerating. He’ll wrap his hands around Griffin’s neck until something snaps and then find a nice place to plant the body.”
Katherine didn’t take the statement as a joke. “I’m not saying that I want Griffin and Aisling to give me a grandchild right away. I’m simply stating that there’s no room for a baby here when they decide to make that change.”
“Baby?” I finally managed to eke out a word. “You can’t seriously be discussing a baby, can you?”
“Chill out,” Griffin warned, refusing to let me wander away even though I put a decent amount of effort into trying to escape. “Mom, Aisling and I have plenty of time to discuss children later.”
“But … why wouldn’t you want to do it now?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t you want to do it now?” Braden parroted, earning a scalding glare from Griffin.
“Well, Uncle Braden, I think our lives are a bit too … scattered … to deal with a baby right now,” Griffin gritted out. “I’m a cop, after all. I come up against dangerous elements all of the time. Would you want to be responsible for keeping a baby safe from the dangerous elements?”
Braden had the grace to look abashed when he realized what Griffin was saying. As a police detective, Griffin was often in danger. Sadly, I was in danger much more often. Braden knew that, too. “I didn’t think about that.” His voice was soft. “I … sorry.” He appeared legitimately contrite.
“Well, then perhaps you should consider finding another line of work,” Katherine suggested, her expression dark. “I was never happy about you being a police officer. Now that you’ve found a woman you care about enough to live with – although not marry, don’t think I haven’t noticed that – I think it’s time to consider a career change.”
Griffin’s mouth dropped open. “I … excuse me?”
“This is going to be such a long night,” I muttered, thankful when Griffin released me and tightened his hands into fists at his sides.
“Yeah, this is pretty much going to suck,” Braden agreed, shifting his attention to the kitchen. “Did you make enough food for me?”
I couldn’t muster the energy to be angry with him. “Of course. You can eat my portion. I think I’m going to be drinking my dinner.”
“Now that right there isn’t a bad idea.”
I DIDN’T MEAN to get drunk.
No, really.
I didn’t do it on purpose.
There I was, sandwiched between Griffin and Braden, listening to Katherine dictate potential life choices to Griffin as he growled responses. All I could do was pour wine. I was already in enough trouble where Katherine Taylor was concerned, so I opted to focus on the wine as I shared my tiny chicken with Braden.
Before I realized what was happening, I was pretty much in the bag. Braden was even drunker, if that was possible.
“How are you going to drive Katherine home?” I asked Braden, ignoring Griffin’s raised voice as he yelled something at his mother. I wasn’t interested in hearing more arguments about kids. The mere thought of kids freaked me out, especially with my mother running around town trying to eat people and me crossing paths with homicidal wraiths on a monthly basis. “You’re too drunk to drive.”
“I’m not drunk,” Braden protested. “I’m … far from drunk.” He stared at his hand a moment, his eyes crossing. “Yeah, I’m drunk.”
“You’re both drunk,” Griffin barked, taking me by surprise. “Go into the living room and start drinking water.”
“I … okay.” I swear I meant to stand, but I didn’t quite make it. “We didn’t finish our tiny chicken, though. I spent all that time cooking it, so I should probably eat it.”
Braden, amused, snorted. “You didn’t cook that. Jerry obviously cooked all of this. Who are you trying to fool?”
I thought I was being covert when I jerked my thumb in Katherine’s direction and hid my mouth from her. “Who do you think? She hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you,” Braden argued. “She doesn’t know you. She needs to get to know you before she can hate you. Granted, it’s still likely to happen, but I doubt very much she hates you yet.”
“Oh, thank you. You’re a good brother.” I touched my finger to his cheek. “I feel sick to my stomach.”
“It’s probably the tiny chicken,” Braden said knowledgeably. “We don’t usually eat tiny chickens, and now we’re going to have to pay the price.”
“Oh, geez.” Griffin grabbed my arm and tugged me toward the living room. He dropped me on the couch before disappearing, returning two minutes later with Braden and two bottles of water. “Drink that. I’m talking to both of you.”
“Braden can’t drive your mother home,” I offered solemnly. “He’s too drunk. She’s going to have to stay here. Then she’ll tell us how cute the townhouse is again over breakfast. I’m pretty sure she means ‘terrible and ugly’ when she says cute. Just so you know.”
Griffin looked angry, but I was almost certain his lips fought a smile as he stared. “I’m taking my mother and Braden back to Grimlock Manor. Aidan will follow me and give me a ride back.”
“Oh. That’s a good idea.” Wait a second … . “When did you figure that out?”
“I’ve been texting Aidan for the past twenty minutes,” Griffin replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to finish my discussion with my mother. You two need to sober up.”
“Okay.” I struggled with the bottle cap until I finally managed to open it and then guzzled half the contents without breathing. “He was talking to you, by the way, Braden.”
“Who was?” Braden asked. He looked sleepy.
“Griffin.” I struggled to a standing position and walked around the coffee table, focusing on the mirror perched atop the fireplace mantel. I’d been frightened to look in it earlier, but liquid courage fueled me now. “He wants you to sober up.”
“Oh, he wants you to sober up, too,” Braden shot back, following my gaze. “What are you doing?”
“I like to look at myself in the mirror,” I replied, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Griffin and his mother were otherwise engaged. They were just out of sight and it sounded as if they were loading the dishwasher while arguing. “You should know about that. You’re very vain.”
“I think that’s a family trait,” Braden said, tipping his chin up. “I … hey, what’s that?”
“What’s what?” I fixated on Braden even though he seemed mesmerized by something in the mirror. “Is someone else here?”
Even though I was drunk, my stomach clenched as I whipped toward the mirror. I knew what Braden saw before my eyes sharpened and focused on the faceless man. “I … .”
“Holy crud,” Braden muttered, leaning forward. “What is that? I … have I already passed out?”
“You see him?” My voice was barely a whisper.
“He’s hard to miss,” Braden replied. “He doesn’t have a face. Why do you think he doesn’t have a face? Wait a second … have you seen him before?”
I didn’t get a chance to answer because the mirror man didn’t stop his forward momentum when he reached the edge of the glass. He reached through, his arms springing free as they broke the plane of the glass without cracking what we could see from our vantage point and grabbed my arms. I gaped, dumbfounded, and then I realized the creature’s touch was burning my skin.
“I … Braden!”
Braden might’ve been drunk, but the buzz hadn’t dulled his bravery. “I’ve got this,” he said, grabbing the fireplace poker and slamming it down on the creature’s arms.
The faceless man opened its mouth, but emitted no sound. He gave me a good shake, sinking his fingernails into my skin and causing me to whimper. Braden struck again, cursing under his breath. The mirror man didn’t have an expression to read, but I could sense fury emanating from him as he slunk back into the mirror and disappeared.
I sank to the floor, shaking. Braden stared at the mirror in dumbfounded confusion.
&nb
sp; “What the heck is going on?” Katherine asked, appearing at the edge of the room. “Exactly how drunk are you two?”
That was a very good question.
11
Eleven
“What happened?”
Griffin’s expression was unreadable as he glanced between Braden and me.
“Something came through the mirror,” Braden muttered, his eyes flashing.
“Something came through the mirror?” Katherine’s voice bordered on shrill, and it dragged me back to reality better than anything else could.
“No,” I said hurriedly, shaking my head. “We were messing around and I tripped.” That sounded reasonable, right?
Griffin didn’t look convinced and started toward me. “Aisling … .”
“Oh, she’s drunk,” Katherine said, shaking her head. “The girl is a lush or something. Braden, too, if I’m not mistaken. They clearly shouldn’t be allowed to drink around one another.”
“They’re not lushes,” Griffin countered, his annoyance obvious. “Mom just … shut up.”
Katherine’s eyes widened at Griffin’s dismissive tone, but he ignored her as he knelt next to me.
“Let me see your arm,” Griffin prodded, brushing my fingers away from my shoulder. I’d forgotten I was holding myself where the creature burned me.
“I … .”
“Aisling, let me see your arm.” Griffin’s voice was gentle.
That was an absolutely terrible idea. As if reading my mind and regaining at least a modicum of his faculties, Braden slapped Griffin’s hand away and gave me a wide grin.
“I pinched her because I like to mess with her,” he lied, his eyes locking with mine. “She’ll be fine tomorrow morning. She won’t even remember it.”
I wasn’t sure I believed that, but I was thankful for the save all the same. “Yeah. I’m … fine.”
Griffin licked his lips, his gaze moving from face to face. He knew we were lying. He was used to the Grimlock family circus, so it barely upended his life any longer. “Okay, we’re going to switch things up. You guys stay right here.” Griffin straightened and moved toward the front door.
Grim Holiday (Aisling Grimlock Book 6) Page 10
