aisling grimlock 03 - grim discovery Read online

  “You drooled in your sleep and you have big white … crusty things … in the corners of your mouth,” Jerry pointed out.

  “I guess I deserved that,” Braden groused, wiping the offending dried spittle. “What’s for breakfast?”

  “Well, me and my paisley outfit are making eggs and hash browns for everyone but you,” Jerry replied, not missing a beat. “I have no idea what you’re eating.”

  “You also deserved that,” I said, sticking out my fuzzy tongue in Braden’s direction before reaching for my own mug of coffee. “Who has the schedules for today?”

  “I do,” Redmond said, reaching for his iPad. “Um … let’s see. We don’t have a lot.”

  “Is it just me or are fewer people dying this summer?” Cillian asked.

  “We always run into a lull in the summer,” Redmond reminded him. “More people tend to die when it’s cold outside.”

  “It never ceases to amaze me that you guys talk about this stuff as if it’s a normal job,” Griffin said. “I never saw my life going this way.”

  I shot him a rueful smile. “I’ll bet you’re sorry you even met me.”

  Griffin’s expression softened. “Not quite.” He kissed my forehead. “Can you guys give her something that keeps her out of trouble today? I’d rather not worry about her on that hip.”

  “Yeah, I was just deciding on her assignment,” Redmond said. “How do you feel about taking on your first Wiccan, Ais?”

  I perked up. “That sounds fun. Where is she going?”

  “The Summerland,” Redmond replied. “She should be excited about that.”

  Griffin frowned. “What’s the Summerland?”

  “It’s the Wiccan version of Heaven,” I replied. “Many Wiccans believe in reincarnation, so that’s where their souls go between lives if they’ve been good.”

  “What happens if they’ve been bad?”

  “Hell is a very busy place and there are a lot of overlapping faiths mingling there.”

  “I hate to admit it, but I find this all fascinating,” Griffin said. “I would find it even more fascinating if you weren’t constantly in danger. How did this Wiccan woman die?”

  Redmond scanned the file. “She had an enlarged heart. Natural causes. There shouldn’t be anyone there. In fact, according to this, it’s going to take at least three days for someone to find her body. Aisling should be perfectly safe.”

  “That would be a nice change,” Griffin teased, pressing another kiss to my forehead. “What do you want to do for dinner tonight?”

  “We have dinner at the house tonight,” Cillian interjected. “Dad sent email reminders two days ago.”

  “Ugh,” I groaned.

  “I am not in the mood for another Grimlock family meal,” Griffin complained.

  “You don’t have to come,” I offered. “I can meet you back here when it’s done.”

  Griffin cracked his neck as he considered the suggestion. “I think it would be better if I ate with you guys,” he said finally. “I’m worried there’s going to be some sort of meltdown regarding your father’s new extracurricular activities, and I don’t want you locked in the dungeon where I can’t find you if things get out of hand.”

  I smirked. Griffin was obsessed with the dungeon in Grimlock Manor’s basement. The room fascinated and creeped him out simultaneously. Dad always threatened to lock one of us in there when we misbehaved.

  “I think we’ve all decided to pretend that we don’t know what he’s been doing this summer,” I said.

  “Well, that seems like a healthy attitude,” Griffin deadpanned.

  “Dude, you have no idea what would happen if Dad found out that we know what – I mean who – he has been doing,” Braden said. “Everyone is better off if we feign ignorance.”

  I snorted. “In Braden’s case he wouldn’t be pretending.”

  “Yeah, I’m telling you right now this is going to blow up in your faces,” Griffin said. “I think I should be there to make sure no one kills Aisling when it happens. Someone needs to protect her.”

  “Oh, you’re so strong and handsome,” I cooed, kissing his cheek.

  “I’m going to barf,” Braden whined.

  “You do know that we’ve been protecting Aisling her whole life, right?” Redmond asked. “It’s sweet that you go out of your way to protect her now – but we’ve always had her back.”

  “Well, I like both her back and her front how it is,” Griffin replied. “I have a feeling she’s going to need me.”

  “Nothing will happen,” Cillian promised. “We’re adults. We can handle this.”

  “Yeah. You realize I watched all five of you … adults … drink yourself into oblivion because your dad dared go out on a date, right?”

  “Aisling, you need to break up with him,” Braden ordered. “He’s giving me a headache.”

  “He’s too cute for that,” I said, rubbing my finger against Griffin’s cheek. “I think I’ll keep him.”

  “Oh, good, now I’m going to barf,” Redmond said.

  Griffin shook his head, exasperated. “I just adore time spent with your family.”

  NORA WALTERS wasn’t afraid of death or what awaited her on the other side. She was, however, a stickler for cleanliness. Because I’m someone who would rather buy new underwear than do laundry, you can imagine my surprise when Nora refused to move on to the next phase of her existence before tidying up this one.

  “I don’t want to do dishes,” I argued.

  “It’s four plates,” Nora said, her dark eyes serious. “It won’t kill you to wash four plates so they don’t stink up the place.”

  I thought about telling her that it would be three days before anyone discovered her body – and there would be a different stink to worry about then – but I opted against cruelty. “I’m extremely hungover,” I explained. “I also have a hip injury. Doing dishes might actually kill me.”

  Nora rolled her ghostly eyes. “Please?”

  It was hard to argue with a reasonable soul. I moved to the kitchen and reluctantly grabbed the dish soap and sponge from the counter. “I want you to know that I’m doing this under duress.”

  “You’re a good person,” Nora said. “Tell me about what you do.”

  “Um … I’m not sure how much there is to tell,” I said. “We collect souls and ferry them to a port where they’re dispersed to their next location. For you that’s the Summerland. How you live your life determines where you spend your afterlife.”

  “And how did you get the job?”

  “I was born into it,” I said, wrinkling my nose as I started to scrub a plate. “My whole family works as reapers.”

  “That sounds fun.”

  “I don’t think I’m telling the story right, then,” I said. “Tell me about Wicca. You guys believe in reincarnation, right?”

  Nora nodded. “I’m hoping my visit to the Summerland will be brief. I can’t wait to start fresh again.”

  That sounded tiresome. “Do you retain your memories of previous lives?”

  “I’ve had flashes of my previous lives,” Nora replied. “I don’t remember who I was or what I did, though. I’ve seen a few glimpses. I just hope I can improve on who I am in my next life.”

  “Wow. You’re really earnest, aren’t you?”

  Nora chuckled. “Aren’t you earnest?”

  “I’m pretty jaded.”

  “Do you want to be jaded?”

  It was an interesting question. “I’m happy with who I am,” I said. “I know I’m snarky and moody, but I think that’s my comfort zone. If I were upbeat all of the time I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

  “I get the sense that you’re troubled by something,” Nora said, studying my face. “You look … tired.”

  “I’m hungover,” I said. “My brothers and I got hammered while watching the Miss America Pageant last night.”

  “Why did you get hammered?”

  “Because … it’s stupid,” I said. “I do have
a few questions about souls, though.” I dried my hands on the towel and moved away from the sink. “Do you think it’s possible to corrupt a soul?”

  Nora appeared surprised by the question. “I would think you’d know more about souls than I do. Don’t you know?”

  “I always thought that your soul was safe once you decided how you were going to live your life,” I explained. “I thought if you were a good person there was no outside force that could change your core.”

  “And now you don’t believe that?”

  “Now I have reason to doubt it,” I clarified.

  “Why?”

  “You sound like a therapist,” I said, chuckling.

  “You didn’t answer the question,” Nora pressed. “What changed to make you think that someone’s soul can be corrupted?”

  Before I realized what I was doing, I launched into the whole sordid Lily Grimlock mystery. I told Nora about her death and the possibility that not only was she back, but also stalking her own offspring. When I was done, Nora was intrigued.

  “If this Genevieve Toth was some sort of ghoul who lived off the essence of others, have you considered that she used that method to save your mother’s life?” Nora asked.

  I nodded. “Some things still don’t add up,” I said. “Genevieve told me she pulled my mother out of the fire. She had my mother’s wedding ring. She said she nursed her back to health and she died years after the fact.

  “The problem is that I was so … shocked … by what Genevieve told me I never considered the ramifications of what she was actually saying,” I continued. “We’re reapers. We were told another family reaped my mother’s soul. If she’s still alive, then no one reaped her soul. There’s no putting that genie back in the bottle.”

  “Why would this other family lie?”

  “That is the question, isn’t it? I have no idea why they’d lie. There’s no love lost between our families, but there’s no outright hatred. I can’t think of one reason for the Grimponds to lie about reaping my mother.”

  “Why would Genevieve lie?” Nora pressed.

  “I can’t think of a reason for her to lie, either,” I admitted. “She had my mother’s wedding ring. Supposedly the fire burned so hot in that building that my mother’s body burned to ash. How did Genevieve get her ring if it happened that way?”

  “I think the simple answer is that she didn’t die in that fire,” Nora said, her eyes awash with sympathy. “What you need to find out is who is lying and why. You can’t figure out whether your mother is the same person until you find her. You can’t find her without answers.”

  “I hate it when people are pragmatic.”

  Nora smiled. “Something tells me you always get what you want,” she said. “You’ll figure this out. It might take time, but you’ll find the answers you seek. I have faith.”

  “Speaking of faith,” I said, drawing my scepter out of my pocket. “Are you ready to go?”

  Nora nodded. “I’m ready for my next adventure.”

  It didn’t take long to collect Nora’s soul and let myself out of her house. The sky was dark. I must have spent more time speaking with her than I intended. I glanced at my phone to check the time. It was only four. Darkness should be hours away.

  The rumble of thunder caused me to jerk my head toward the east. Were we expecting a storm? A bolt of lightning split the sky, followed almost immediately by another thunder blast.

  I increased my pace, even though my hip didn’t like it. I hoped to make it to my car before the skies opened. It didn’t quite happen. The rain hit when I was still about five hundred feet from the apartment building’s parking lot.

  “Well, great,” I grumbled.

  I was soaked within seconds, the need to hurry all but erased. I was almost to my car when a shadow fluttered to my left. I glanced over my shoulder, frowning at the empty space in the middle of the vehicle rows. I was almost certain something had been there a moment before.

  The spot between my shoulder blades tingled, and I had the distinct impression someone watched me. I swiveled quickly, expecting to find a wraith – or the rogue reaper from the bar – behind me. Instead, something black and … winged … swept toward me.

  I instinctively dropped to the ground, crying out as my hip protested the move. I covered my face with one arm, worries of rabies and daylight bats flitting through my head as I dug in my pocket for my keys with my free hand.

  Whatever was out there was coming back. I could hear it … screeching. The sound wasn’t human. It didn’t sound like a wraith either. I didn’t bother wasting time looking. I hit the button to unlock the car door and yanked it open, threw myself inside and slammed the door before lifting my head.

  The creature hovered on the other side of the window, glowing red eyes set in the midst of grotesque features that looked like an otherworldly mixture of dog and owl. The creature flapped its wings and clawed at the window with its talons, continuing to howl as it tried to get at me through the glass.

  I jammed my keys in the ignition, taking only a few seconds to check for oncoming vehicles before racing out of the parking lot. Because of the storm, traffic was sparse. Once safely on the road, I risked a glance in the rearview mirror and found the creature was gone.

  “What the hell was that?”

  Seventeen

  The storm dissipated almost as fast as it developed. By the time I reached my father’s house, the sun was shining again and the only reminder of the brief tempest was my reflection in the mirror.

  I remained in my car in front of Grimlock Manor until Griffin pulled up. Even though I’d blasted the air through the vents for almost thirty minutes, I was still a damp mess when I climbed out and went to him.

  “Hey, baby. How was your day?” He greeted me before getting a good look at me. I waited for him to focus. When I didn’t answer, Griffin shifted his attention from the house to me. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “I got rained on.”

  Griffin furrowed his brow. “Where? It’s been sunny all day.”

  Well that was interesting … or annoying. “I guess the storm was localized … to me,” I grumbled. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  “I think I heard something about a small storm in Royal Oak,” Griffin said, lifting his arms to hug me and then dropping them. “You look rough.”

  “That’s just what every woman wants to hear,” I snapped.

  “Someone is grumpy.”

  “I usually find you too adorable for words,” I said. “I’m not feeling that right now.”

  Griffin pressed his lips together and I got the distinct impression he was trying not to laugh. “Do you want me to take you home so you can change?”

  “I have clothes here,” I said. “I … there’s something I need to tell you, but I can’t do it out in the open. We need to go up to my old bedroom so I can fix … this.” I gestured toward my face. I’d managed to clean up most of the smeared makeup, but remnants streaked my cheeks.

  “Your father doesn’t like it when I’m in that bedroom with you. He thinks we’re doing dirty things.”

  “I am dirty. Look at me!”

  “There’s no reason to freak out,” Griffin said, rolling his eyes. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs so you can change. If your father gives me grief … well … you can take him on. You sound as if you’re spoiling for a fight.”

  He had no idea.

  AFTER a twenty-minute shower, I almost felt human again. Griffin refused to go in the bathroom with me out of fear word would get back to Dad. Luckily for us, the foyer was empty when we entered, so no one knew where we were or what we were doing.

  “You look better,” Griffin said, glancing up when I walked into the bedroom. He reclined on the large sleigh bed my mother purchased when I was young. I’d always hated the bed because it was too big. For some reason, seeing him in it made me like it a bit more.

  “Thanks,” I said, clutching my robe tighter. “I wish you would’ve come in the bat
hroom with me. I don’t have a lot of time to tell you what happened before dinner.”

  “You got stormed on. You already told me.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t tell you what attacked me during the storm.”

  Griffin straightened, tossing the photo album he’d been perusing back on the nightstand. “You were attacked? Come here.”

  I shuffled over to him, sighing as he yanked open the robe so he could look me over. Usually the sight of me naked gets him going. He was all business now. I tried not to take it personally.

  “It didn’t touch me,” I said, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. “It got close, but I managed to get in my car.”

  “Was it a wraith? How did a wraith get close to you in broad daylight?”

  “It wasn’t a wraith,” I replied. “It was … a weird little dog-owl that screeched and flew. It attacked during the storm.”

  Griffin cocked an eyebrow. “Dog-owl?”

  “I don’t know what it was. I didn’t get a good look at it. I saw it out of the corner of my eye and ducked down. After I managed to get in the car, it kind of … hovered … next to the window for a second. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

  Griffin ran his hands through my damp hair. It was a sweet gesture – until I realized he had ulterior motives. “Did you hit your head?”

  I jerked away from him. “I did not hit my head,” I hissed.

  “Baby, I know we’ve seen a lot of weird things since we got together,” Griffin said, choosing his words carefully. “I can believe in wraiths because they have the ability to hide. How can a flying dog monster hide?”

  “I have no idea,” I said, gritting my teeth. “Don’t talk down to me like I’m an idiot. I know what I saw.”

  Griffin held up his hands to signal surrender. “Okay. I … believe you. What do you think it was?”

  “If I knew that I wouldn’t be calling it a dog-owl.”

  “I … .”

  The bedroom door opened and Aidan stepped in, pulling up short when he saw my robe gaping open. “Omigod!” He slapped his hand over his eyes. “I’m blind!”

  I jerked the robe shut. “Do you knock?”

  Aidan kept his eyes covered as he felt around the room. I think he was looking for the exit. “This has been the worst twenty-four hours ever. First Dad. Now this. The universe hates me.”