aisling grimlock 03 - grim discovery Page 15

  “Stop screaming,” I snapped. “You’re being a baby!”

  “What’s going on?” Redmond appeared in the doorway, his gaze bouncing between faces.

  “I just saw Aisling naked and I’m blind,” Aidan said.

  Redmond wrinkled his nose. “Why were you naked?”

  “This is my bedroom.”

  “Yes, but dinner is in twenty minutes, and you have another bedroom across town if you want to … do that.” Redmond scorched Griffin with a harsh look. “You make me sick.”

  “Hey, I was waiting for her to shower and change her clothes,” Griffin argued. “The robe just kind of … fell open.”

  “Do I look stupid?” Redmond was furious. “You were going to do something filthy with my sister on her childhood bed. There are still stuffed animals on it, for crying out loud.”

  Griffin glared at me. “I told you this would happen.”

  “We weren’t doing anything,” I said. “I got drenched in that storm and I needed to talk to Griffin while I was getting ready for dinner. Get off your high horse. I happen to know you did it in Dad’s bed when you were in high school, so you have absolutely no moral high ground in this situation.”

  “You’d better keep your mouth shut about that,” Redmond threatened, extending a warning finger in my direction. “I bought your silence a long time ago on that front.”

  “Doesn’t anyone care that I’m blind?” Aidan asked.

  “No,” Redmond said, grabbing his hand and wrenching it from his face. “Grow up and shut up. Don’t say anything about this to Dad. We do not need secrets spilling out tonight.”

  “But … .”

  Redmond shook his head. “No one says a word. Do you understand?”

  Aidan reluctantly nodded his head. “Fine. I’m still scarred for life, though.”

  “I get that,” Redmond said, patting Aidan’s shoulder. “I think seeing Aisling naked would be enough to kill all of us.”

  “Hey!” I glanced at Griffin for support, but he was too busy laughing. “You’re not going to stand up for my honor?”

  “Oh, baby, you’re on your own for this one.”

  “WHY is everyone so quiet tonight?” Dad looked perplexed as he glanced around the table.

  “We’re not quiet,” Braden answered. “We’re … debating the meaning of life.”

  “What a great answer,” I muttered.

  Braden shot me a quelling look before turning back to Dad. “I think we’re all tired. We should make it an early evening.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Redmond agreed. “I think we’re all exhausted. It was humid today. You know how the humidity takes it out of us.”

  “Yes, I often worry about you all wilting in the humidity,” Dad said, nodding. “It’s right up there with wraiths, rogue reapers and mutant alien attacks. What’s really going on?”

  “Nothing is going on,” Aidan replied. “Honestly, we’re all tired. We had a late night last night.”

  “Yes, I heard that Redmond, Cillian and Braden all took off as though something horrible happened and not one of them came home last night,” Dad said, resting his elbows on the table as he surveyed his uncomfortable children. “Aidan technically still lives here, although I can’t remember the last time he spent the night when I didn’t mandate it.”

  “How do you know we weren’t here?” Cillian asked. “You were … out … when we left. You usually don’t keep tabs on us.”

  “The maid left a note,” Dad replied. “She was worried because you all seemed upset when you left. She thought I should know whether something happened. You’re all adults, so you’d think one of you would bother to leave me a note. I don’t think it’s too much to ask, do you?”

  “We’re sorry, Dad,” Redmond said. “We got distracted. We weren’t planning to spend the night away from home. It just kind of happened.”

  “Where did you spend the night?”

  “Um … .”

  “They spent the night at my place,” I answered, shifting my gaze when Redmond scorched me with a look. “We got a little drunk – which is why everyone is so tired – and they slept on the floor.”

  “And why were you keeping that a secret?”

  Dad was a man on a mission tonight – and that mission was uncovering the lie his children were desperately trying to cover up. He knew us too well to ignore the panic-stricken looks we occasionally shot one another.

  “They all got drunk and watched the Miss America Pageant.” Griffin smoothly took over the conversation. “They thought you would laugh at them, so they agreed to keep it a secret.”

  I squeezed his knee under the table by way of thanks.

  Dad didn’t miss the gesture. “Aisling, what have I told you about keeping your hands on top of the table when you’re sitting next to Griffin?”

  Oh, good grief. “It’s not like I grabbed anything but his knee,” I shot back. “I could if you want me to, though. I mean, if you’re going to accuse me of something, I might as well do it.”

  “That will be enough of that, young lady,” Dad warned. “I don’t understand why you’d think I’d have a problem with … seriously, you got drunk and watched the Miss America Pageant?”

  “We have issues,” Redmond said. “I should point out it was Aisling’s idea.”

  “It was Jerry’s idea,” I countered. “I only invited you guys because … um … I wanted to torture you.” There was no way Dad would believe that.

  “Yes, you’re up to something,” Dad said. “I don’t know what, but I want to know what you’re plotting right now. If I need to come up with bail money, I want to make sure I have enough for all of you.” He glanced at Griffin. “You’re on your own. I think you’re covering for them, but I don’t think you’re in on it. If you tell me what you know I’ll … be nicer to you.”

  “Oh, what a great offer,” Griffin deadpanned, slipping an arm around my shoulders. “I think I’m good.”

  “And that’s why I won’t bail you out when they all get you arrested,” Dad said. “Someone had better tell me what’s going on right now or no one is getting paychecks this week.”

  My brothers are decent liars if given enough time to come up with a cover story. When they’re put on the spot, though, they crumble faster than stale store-bought cookies.

  “Aisling was naked up in her bedroom with Griffin and I accidentally saw it,” Aidan announced.

  “I am going to kill you,” I hissed.

  “Hey, you’re the one who scarred me for life.”

  I risked a glance at Dad and found his cheeks flushed as he gripped his steak knife so tightly his knuckles whitened.

  “He’s going to stab me, isn’t he?” Griffin didn’t look especially worried.

  “We weren’t doing anything upstairs,” I said. “I was wet from that storm in Royal Oak and Griffin sat on my bed while I showered and changed. Aidan is the one who walked into my room without knocking.”

  “I don’t even know what to say about this,” Dad muttered.

  “No one wanted to tell you about what happened upstairs,” Redmond said. “That’s why everyone was so quiet.”

  Wait … was he sacrificing me on Dad’s altar of purity, too? Well, screw them all. “Aidan and I saw you on your date last night,” I announced.

  “Aisling!” All four of my brothers exploded at the same time.

  I ignored them. “We were so freaked we called Redmond, Cillian and Braden,” I said. “No one could figure out what to do and I promised Jerry we would watch the Miss America Pageant so … we got drunk and did that.”

  This time when I looked at my father his face was planted in his palm and he shook his head. “That’s a lot of information.”

  “I still saw Aisling naked,” Aidan said. “She made me spy on you, too. I didn’t want to do it. I’m a good son.”

  “Shut up,” I snapped. “None of us are going to be his favorite tonight. There’s no reason to suck up.”

  “You’re especially not my
favorite,” Dad said, finally lifting his head. “I … how did you even know where I was?”

  “We were at the cemetery,” I replied. “We saw you leave the mausoleum. You were in your best suit, so we decided to follow.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you that’s not his best suit?” Aidan asked.

  “Shut up!”

  “Does anyone want to get drunk now?” Griffin asked.

  Dad banged his hand on the table for silence, refusing to speak until an uncomfortable pall settled over the room.

  “Okay, let’s start from the beginning, shall we? My personal life is my own,” Dad said. “It’s none of your business. Braden, if you open your mouth to say one word I’ll lock you in the dungeon tonight.”

  Braden snapped his mouth shut.

  “Aisling, I have no idea why you felt the need to spy on me,” Dad continued. “You could’ve asked like an adult. Apparently that’s out of your wheelhouse, though. As for the … naked … incident upstairs? I don’t care. I’m officially done caring. It’s not as though I think you’re a virgin.”

  “Not since high school,” Aidan snorted.

  “That will be enough of that if you don’t want to join Braden in the dungeon tonight,” Dad said. “You all are just … royal pains in the ass. I can’t even … there are no words … I mean … did I really raise you all to act in this fashion?”

  “I told you that approaching him like adults was the way to go,” Griffin said.

  “Oh, look, I agree with the handsy cop who is constantly feeling up my daughter when he thinks I’m not looking,” Dad bemoaned. “Who saw that coming?”

  “I don’t think anyone saw that coming,” Redmond replied. “Aisling pushing you over the edge until you lose your mind is another story. We all saw that coming.”

  “Oh … bite me,” I snapped.

  “You should bite me,” Redmond countered.

  Dad got to his feet, drawing our attention to the head of the table. “Actually, I want you all to bite me,” he said. “I can’t even deal with you right now. I … I need some air.”

  He was halfway out the door when I decided I wasn’t done.

  “I just want to add that when Redmond was in high school he had sex on your bed, and Braden wore a tiara last night,” I called to his receding back.

  “Thank you for the full update, Aisling,” Dad said, not bothering to turn around. With those words he marched out of the house.

  We sat in horrified silence for almost a full minute before anyone spoke.

  “I hope you’re happy, Aisling,” Braden said. “This is all your fault.”

  “What else is new?”

  Eighteen

  Because everyone drove to Grimlock Manor in separate vehicles, I was alone when I got back to the townhouse. I hoped Griffin and Aidan took the scenic route so I could hop in the bathtub with a bottle of wine before things turned ugly. Risking another hangover seemed the stupid way to go, so that, of course, meant I was gung-ho to do it. I might as well make it a complete and total waste of a day.

  I was halfway up the front walk when I heard rustling behind me. I tightened my grip on my keys to keep them from clinking and kept my pace even. I didn’t want whoever was following to know I suspected anything. If I could get close enough to the door … .

  “Look out!”

  I wasn’t sure where the voice came from, but I listened. I felt a presence moving in at my right, so I hopped backward instead of moving forward. The wraith was a black blur as it lunged, overstepping my position by almost two feet.

  “Oh, why am I not surprised?” I grumbled.

  My hip kept me from moving as fast as I wanted, and even though I knew someone was out here – someone had warned me, after all – I had to act fast if I expected to survive.

  Without a weapon I didn’t have a lot of options. The best one I had was my mouth, but if I screamed for help and Jerry ran out I’d put him in danger. There was nothing in this world that could make me do that.

  The wraith spun, his fingers outstretched as he reached for me. I was about to knee him in the groin, desperately hoping they still had equipment to damage, when something barreled out of the darkness and knocked me to the side.

  I hit the grass hard, my hand brushing against one of the solar lights Jerry insisted on placing along the walkway. I yanked it out of the ground and studied the pointed metal end for a moment before rolling to my knees and pushing myself to a standing position.

  The light from the townhouse was dim – and thankfully all of the lights in the neighbor’s unit were out, which meant they were probably in bed and not bearing witness to Armageddon – so I had to squint to focus on the thing that knocked me out of the way. It was clearly one of the winged dog-owls, although this one looked different from the previous specimen.

  Whatever it was, the wraith didn’t like it. It kept lashing out and trying to catch the winged creature, which was too fast for the likes of the wraith. I was enjoying the scene when I felt a second wraith approach. They almost always travel in pairs, so I wasn’t surprised when it closed in on me.

  I gripped the solar light tightly, biding my time until it was almost upon me. I swiveled quickly, giving no thought to what would happen if the sharp end wasn’t enough to incapacitate the wraith. It wasn’t as though I had a lot of options. I plunged the stake into the wraith’s heart and immediately took two long strides back so I wasn’t within its reach should it attack.

  The wraith screamed – although it was feeble and barely audible from where I stood. As if time slowed, the wraith turned and focused on me, its black robe billowing in the night air. It took one step in my direction and I was about to try running when its body started flaking apart. The solar light wasn’t a great weapon, but it did the job.

  I pushed the disappearing wraith out of my mind and turned to the second attacker. The dog-owl clearly had the upper hand as it zipped by the wraith’s face and lashed out with dangerous-looking talons. The wraith reared back, and I took the opportunity to ram the stake into its back, hoping I was in the general vicinity of its black heart.

  The wraith stumbled, stunned that the final attack came from me instead of the flying beast. This wraith crumbled to the ground, turning to ash before the body hit the cement.

  “Well, that was fun,” I said, as I regarded the flying beast. It watched me with curious eyes. Unlike the dog-owl that attacked me a few hours earlier, this one didn’t have glowing red eyes. My new friend’s were more a somber gray. “If you’re some sort of weird bat, I’m telling you right now I’ll kill you if you try to give me rabies.”

  The dog-owl snorted. No, really, it snorted. “I’m not a bat.”

  Well, this was new. “You can talk?” I was dumbfounded. “What kind of bat talks?”

  “I’m not a bat.”

  “Are you a dog-owl?”

  “What’s a dog-owl?” The creature’s mouth moved and the more I stared at it the more uncomfortable I became. There was something rigid about the beast’s body texture. I couldn’t put a name to it, but I figured I should recognize it. I just couldn’t.

  “If you’re not a dog-owl, then what are you?”

  “I’m a gargoyle, stupid!”

  Oh, well, that explained everything.

  “HOW was dinner, Bug? I’m sorry I couldn’t make it, but I had a couple come in for a wedding consultation and they were clueless.” Jerry sat on the couch, his eyes trained on the television, his feet – pink toe separators in place – resting on the coffee table. He’d obviously just given himself a pedicure. “Is Aidan on his way?”

  “I’m sure he is,” I said, holding the door open so the gargoyle could pad inside. On all fours he looked like some horror movie monstrosity. I couldn’t hold a conversation outside in case someone saw it and thought I was mistreating a dog – or doing horrible human and fly mutations in the basement – so I had no choice but to let him into the house.

  “What are you doing?” Jerry asked, tilting his hea
d to the side. “What are you looking at … oh, holy hell, what is that? Tell me that’s not a bat!”

  “It’s not a bat,” I said, dropping my purse on the table and hobbling into the living room. My already-sore hip throbbed after I had been yet again tossed to the ground. I started to think I would need a hip replacement by the age of thirty.

  “Why does everyone think I’m a bat?”

  “It talks!” Jerry pointed at our guest, his finger shaking. “How can a bat talk?”

  “If you call me a bat one more time I’ll mess up that pretty nail polish you’re trying so hard to keep neat,” the gargoyle snapped.

  “Don’t threaten him,” I warned, flicking the gargoyle’s pointed ear and cringing. He felt kind like mushy stone. “Are you the same kind of gargoyle I see on top of buildings and in front of those dilapidated old hotels down in Detroit?”

  “Stop encouraging that … bat … to talk,” Jerry hissed. “You can’t keep that thing, by the way. We agreed when we moved in together: No pets.”

  I made a face. “If I remember correctly, I made that rule because I was convinced you were going to adopt some rat dog and dress it up in sweaters,” I reminded him. “Trust me. I do not want this creepy little … gargoyle … to be a pet. Although … do you do tricks? I’ve got a lifelong nemesis who I would love for you to dive bomb.”

  “Shoo, little bat,” Jerry said, waving with his hands as he steadfastly refused to move his feet. “I’m sure there’s some nice farm in the Upper Peninsula where you could find a permanent home.”

  “I’m not bat, you … poof!”

  “Hey! Don’t you dare call him that,” I snapped. “It’s not his fault. We’ve never seen a talking dog-owl.”

  “I’m a gargoyle!”

  “You keep saying that, but I’m pretty sure they’re not real – except as architectural details,” I said, moving toward the refrigerator for a can of soda. “Do you want something to drink, Bruce?”

  “Who the hell is Bruce?” The gargoyle sounded like my father after spending twenty minutes arguing politics with me. He was just that irritated.