Grim Holiday (Aisling Grimlock Book 6)

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Define odd.”

  “Odder than this family, and that’s saying something.” Cillian mustered a wan smile and winked. “The house was built by one Otto Alan Gentry in the seventies. Do you remember him, Dad?”

  Dad knit his eyebrows, playing with his hash browns as he concentrated. “I think so. No, I know so. We didn’t move into this house until the nineties. I believe Otto as still living in the hill house then.”

  Cillian nodded. “He did. He would’ve been in his seventies, and from what I can find, he was considered something of an odd duck.”

  “We lived here for two years without children,” Dad noted. “Ah, those were the days.” He smirked in my direction before sobering. “We decided we wanted to get in good with the neighbors when we purchased the house. That was your mother’s thing. She didn’t want them to be suspicious of us.”

  “Did you collect souls like these guys when you were younger?” Griffin asked, gesturing toward Aidan and me.

  Dad nodded. “Yes. I’m administration now. Back then I was a simple reaper. I had to transport my souls to a house by the lake at the end of every shift. That’s not really important.” Dad shook himself from his momentary reverie. “Anyway, the neighborhood had a lot of block parties then. Everyone attended … except Otto.”

  “Apparently Otto didn’t like people,” Cillian volunteered. “He was like a grumpier version of Aisling.”

  “I like some people,” I protested. “I simply have high standards.”

  “I’m so glad to have made the cut.” Griffin pursed his lips and offered me a sweet kiss. “Go back to Otto, though. Why is he important? He’d be long dead. I believe Angelina said she was selling the house on behalf of the original owner’s grandson.”

  “Alan Gentry,” I supplied. “She said the grandson’s name was Alan, which was Otto’s middle name. That can’t be a coincidence.”

  “That’s true,” Cillian confirmed. “Otto Gentry lived alone in the house until he fell off the map in the late nineties. As far as I can tell, no one ever saw him after that.”

  I stilled, my fork halfway to my mouth. “How does that work? Someone had to be keeping up the house.”

  “And I don’t remember Otto having children,” Dad added. “It seems as if that would’ve been noticeable.”

  “It’s interesting,” Cillian agreed, bobbing his head. “I can’t find any birth records showing that Otto had children. Still, there is an Alan Gentry who contacted Angelina and listed the house. He claims to be Otto’s grandson, but I think the middle name connection is too convenient to ignore. I asked see the contact information and she showed it to me.”

  “When did you do that?” I asked, suspicious.

  “When Griffin threw you over his shoulder and carried you upstairs to keep you away from her,” Cillian answered, not missing a beat. “She was willing to share. I think she’s as curious as we are.”

  “Fat chance,” I muttered. “And by fat, I mean her butt.”

  “You are a delight.” Griffin dropped a croissant on my plate. “Fill up. You’re going to need your strength today. I have an odd feeling we’re going to wedge in an outing before everything is said and done.”

  I had a feeling he was right, but kept it to myself. “So Alan Gentry doesn’t technically exist and Otto Gentry disappeared? There must be some notice of his death, an obituary, something. He would be ... .” I screwed up my face as I attempted to do math.

  “Someone save her before her head starts smoking,” Braden instructed. “He would be more than one hundred if he were still alive.”

  “That’s not out of the realm of possibility,” Dad cautioned, his expression thoughtful. “He was frail the one time I saw him in the nineties, though. I have my doubts.”

  “Maybe he’s the mirror man.” The words escaped before I gave them much thought, but once I said them they almost seemed to fit. “Maybe he wanted to live forever and found a way to do it.”

  “Perhaps,” Dad conceded, folding and unfolding his napkin. “We’ve known creatures who want to live forever.” Including Mom, but I didn’t bother voicing what we all were thinking. “But … how?”

  “We’ll have to ask him.”

  Griffin cleared his throat, drawing my attention. “You’re going to that house, aren’t you?”

  “I … .” I worked my jaw, unsure how to answer. I was definitely going to the house. I was fairly certain I intended to go there before the dream, even though I didn’t realize it until I woke this morning. Setting Griffin off wasn’t on my to-do list for Christmas Eve, but I couldn’t pretend the house didn’t intrigue me. “I guess that depends,” I hedged after a beat. “How much crap are you going to give me if I say yes?”

  “I guess that depends,” Griffin shot back. “Are you going to lie and sneak around if I say no? Are you going to pitch a fit and then sneak out of the house and go there on your own when you think no one is looking?”

  He knew me well. “Yes.”

  Griffin groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I knew it. I wanted a quiet Christmas Eve. I knew it wouldn’t happen.”

  “I have to know,” I argued. “There’s something funky about the house. We can’t go without mirrors forever. I’m growing out these bangs because I hate them. I’m going to need a mirror for that. I … want it done. I need to see what’s in that house.”

  “I think we all do,” Dad interjected. “Griffin, I know you don’t want to put her in danger, but she’s right. If we sit back and wait we’ll become complacent and the mirror man will attack. He might kill her this time.”

  “So you want to plant her in the mouth of the kraken?”

  “Good reference.” I patted Griffin’s knee under the table. “I’m very proud of you.”

  “Don’t placate me,” Griffin barked.

  “I’m not sacrificing her for anything,” Dad countered. “I want to attack this as a family. If we all go together … .”

  “Then we’ll be a united front when it comes time to protect her,” Braden finished. “We’re stronger together.”

  “Oh, geez.” Griffin cursed under his breath before collecting himself. “Fine. But we go armed. I want her protected every second we’re there.”

  “We all want that.” Dad smiled. “Now, order your omelet, Griffin. Everyone needs their strength.”

  “I agree with that.” I happily cut into mine. “I might need a second one.”

  “Oh, good,” Griffin deadpanned. “Are you planning to puke on the mirror monster to get him to admit defeat?”

  I shrugged. “Whatever works, pal.”

  Griffin wasn’t impressed with my tone. “You’re going to be the death of me. I just know it!”

  30

  Thirty

  “I think we should drive … or find a wheelbarrow.”

  I studied the pile of weapons assembled by the front door with grim detachment.

  Dad followed my gaze, confused. “It’s only two blocks away.”

  “Yes, and even though it’s Christmas Eve and people are busy, I think they’ll notice seven people walking down the street with swords and knives.”

  “You have a point.” Dad rubbed his chin. “I don’t want to park in front of the house because people might notice. What happens if we burn it down? The last thing we need is an arson investigation.”

  Griffin tilted his head at mention of a crime. “Do you think that’s a possibility?”

  Dad shrugged. “I have no idea. I wouldn’t rule it out, though. I’ve seen weirder things happen.”

  “Yeah, like men climbing out of mirrors to kill people,” Griffin grumbled, shaking his head. “Do you have some sort of body armor we can wrap Aisling in?”

  “Ooh, like bubble wrap?” Braden was intrigued by the notion.

  “That’s a terrible idea,” Redmond countered. “We’ll all get distracted by trying to pop her.”

  “Ha, ha.” I shot them a dirty look. “I don’t need armor. I have you guys. If the mirror monste
r shows up I’ll hide behind one of you.”

  “That’s exactly what we want,” Griffin said. “In fact, if we see something, I want you to drop to the ground and curl into a ball to protect yourself.”

  “Yeah, do the turtle,” Aidan teased, smirking at the visual. “Do you remember that time we were playing soccer and Braden cheated? He did that when we all came after him. How did that work for you, bro?”

  Braden scowled at the memory. “You guys fight dirty … and I didn’t turtle. I tripped and accidentally hid my face behind my arms. There’s a difference.”

  “Sure there is.” I patted his arm in mock sympathy. “As for me, I know how to take care of myself.”

  “I know now isn’t the right time to remind you of exactly the opposite, but the last time you saw the mirror monster you ended up in the hospital for the better part of a week,” Griffin supplied. “I do not want that to happen again.”

  He wasn’t the only one. Still … . “I promise to be careful. I really do. I need to be part of this. This started with me, and I need it to end with me.”

  “I know you do.” Griffin ran his hand over the back of my hair. “I’m not trying to hold you back. I simply need you to be mindful and not sprint ahead of the rest of us. We’re in this together.”

  “We are indeed,” Dad agreed, staring at the weapons. “All right, new plan. I think I have enough trench coats in my closet for everyone. We’ll hide the swords inside of them. Aisling, you can take a long knife instead of a sword. No one will notice a thing.”

  I arched a dubious eyebrow. “You think no one is going to notice seven people wearing trench coats as they walk to an abandoned house on Christmas Eve?”

  “I think I’ve had enough of your mouth,” Dad shot back. “That’s the plan. Is everyone ready to get moving?” He didn’t wait for nods or answers, instead tipping his head to a nervous-looking Katherine and Maya as they watched the action from the staircase. “Let’s do this. I want to be able to enjoy Christmas, and that’s not going to happen until Aisling is satisfied about that house. It’s time to lock and load.”

  “Oh, man. I never have my bad eighties action movie humor ready to whip out in the rare times I can use it,” I lamented. “You just lobbed that one out there like a softball. It’s so sad.”

  “Let’s go!”

  A SOFT SNOW fell as we walked along the sidewalk. The weather forecast said we wouldn’t have a white Christmas, but the steady snowfall filled me with doubt.

  “It’s pretty.”

  Griffin squeezed my hand as he walked next to me. “It is pretty. If we manage to get out of this alive – and we get enough snow to make it worth our while – maybe we’ll make snow angels tomorrow.”

  I snorted, amused. “My brothers will want a snowball fight.”

  “You’ll want a snowball fight,” Griffin corrected. “I’m willing to do that, too, as long as … well, as long as things don’t fall apart.”

  I watched him a moment, perplexed. “Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?”

  “Only you.”

  “Well, I’m saying it again. We’ll be fine. I have a feeling ... and I’m sure everything will be okay.”

  “Well, as long as you have a feeling … .” Griffin’s grin was charming, but it didn’t make it all the way to his eyes. “You stick close to me or your father. I want you to promise me that you won’t wander around on your own if something happens.”

  “I promise.”

  “I’m not kidding,” Griffin pressed, somber. “I cannot lose you.”

  “I can’t lose you either.”

  “I know. I’m more worried about my grief than yours, though, if I’m telling the truth.” Griffin pressed a quick kiss to the corner of my mouth as we climbed the stairs to the Gentry house. “I love you. Stay close.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “And I’m going to barf,” Braden complained, moving up beside me. “If you two get any more lovey-dovey I’ll throw up all over you.”

  “You’re just jealous,” I shot back.

  “Yeah, I’m not keen on dating my sister and Griffin isn’t my type, so I don’t think I’m jealous,” Braden retorted.

  I elbowed him in the stomach. “I’m going to spit in your Christmas cookies later if you’re not careful.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  Dad took control of the situation before it could spiral out of hand, staring at the door for a moment before knocking. That wasn’t what I was expecting, so I was understandably confused.

  “Who are you waiting for to open the door?”

  “Perhaps we’ll get lucky and the mirror man will open it,” Dad replied, unruffled. “Then we can stab him and be home in plenty of time for soup and sandwiches. I love a good bowl of soup when it snows.”

  I remembered that well about him. He once let me stay home from school even though I wasn’t sick, and we ate tomato soup with grilled cheese sandwiches while watching the snow fall. “He won’t answer. The house is supposed to be empty. Nobody’s here.”

  As if on cue, the door creaked open and slowly drifted inward, revealing an empty doorframe and the long hallway from my nightmare.

  “You were saying?” Dad asked dryly.

  “Well, that’s weird,” Aidan said, peering inside. “That can’t be normal.”

  “We’re going after a man without a face,” I reminded him. “Now you’re suddenly worried about things being normal? Where have you been?”

  “Perhaps I’ve been hiding out wherever you stashed your sense of humor,” Aidan suggested.

  “Knock that off,” Dad warned, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he stared down the hallway. “You can fight when you get home. Until then … stuff it.”

  “I’m pretty sure I didn’t agree to those rules,” I offered.

  “Me either,” Aidan added, grinning as he pointed to the tops of Dad’s ears. They reddened with each passing joke.

  “Not one more word!” I uttered the statement in unison with my brothers and we all chuckled as Dad glowered. He didn’t admonish us to be quiet. His mind was working too fast to be bothered by childish antics.

  “Someone is obviously expecting us,” Dad noted. “That someone wants us to come inside. That makes me nervous.”

  “Nervous enough to turn around?” Redmond asked.

  Dad held his hands palms up. “No. We need to finish this – or at least get a better idea of exactly who is after us. We need to stick together. I’m not messing around. Does everyone understand?”

  “The next person who gives me one second of lip gets a knuckle sandwich,” Redmond intoned, imitating Dad to perfection.

  Dad scowled. “I should’ve considered a childless life. I think I would’ve been so much happier.”

  “I think you simply like to complain like the rest of us,” I countered, briefly resting my cheek against his shoulder. “Let’s go inside. I need to see what’s in there.”

  Dad patted the top of my head. “You stick close to Griffin no matter what. If something happens … you’re to run. You head straight back to Grimlock Manor. You don’t wait for the rest of us. Do you understand?”

  Not even remotely. “Sure, Dad,” I drawled. “While you’re fighting for your lives I’ll tuck tail and run. That sounds like a great way to spend Christmas Eve.”

  Dad extended a warning finger. “Don’t push me.”

  “Don’t push me,” I shot back. “Let’s go inside. It’s cold and I’m sick of acting like a cowering mouse. I want to see him. He’s in here.”

  “How do you know that?” Dad was earnest. “How can you possibly know that?”

  “I … feel … him. I think I felt him that first night we stopped by, too. I don’t know how to explain it.”

  Dad sighed, resigned. “All right. We’re going in. Everyone remain alert. No more crap. Do you understand?”

  “We understand, sir,” Braden answered, his tone serious. “We’ll gladly take the belt and your recrimination should we di
sappoint.”

  “Ugh.” Dad looked as if he wanted to beat Braden until he stopped talking. “I’m so sick of you people.”

  “Merry Christmas one and all,” I sang out.

  “So very tired.”

  DAD WAS CAUTIOUS as he took the lead, indicating with his hand that Redmond and Cillian should flank him and check the rooms on either side of the hallway. His eyes were keen as he stared into the bowels of the house, leaving me well protected at his back with Aidan, Braden and Griffin surrounding me.

  “There are a lot of mirrors in this house,” Dad noted, shaking his head. “There are at least six in this hallway alone.”

  “Not to mention it looks as if a blind pirate designed the layout of this place,” Cillian said, turning back from the parlor to focus on the hallway. “Everything in this house is kind of closed off. There’s no flow or open movement.”

  “I thought that was a thing in houses built in the seventies,” Griffin challenged. “I seem to remember reading about that in an architectural magazine.”

  I was flabbergasted. “Since when do you read architectural magazines?”

  “It was a thing back then, but nowhere near this degree.” Cillian curled his lip. “It’s … distressing given how beautiful the house is from the outside.”

  “Someone would have to come in and revamp the layout from the ground up,” Griffin noted. “I’ll bet the upstairs bedrooms are the type where you walk through one to get to another. Angelina will have to sell this place cheap given all of the work it needs.”

  “Seriously, who are you?” I was dumbfounded. “How do you know all of this stuff?”

  “The magazines in the hospital were very old. I read through all of them while I was waiting for you to wake up,” Griffin replied matter-of-factly. “Don’t give me grief.”

  “Oh, well, that makes me feel a little better.” I stepped forward so I could get a better look down the hallway. “This way.”

  Dad grabbed my arm before I could walk in front of him. “How do you know that? Do you hear something?” He looked pained as he asked the question.