Only The Lonely (A Death Gate Grim Reapers Thriller Book 1) Read online

  “Knock it off, Braden,” Griffin warned, resting his hand on top of the table. “I’m a big fan when she doesn’t wear a bra.”

  “I think we’ve heard just about enough from you, Griffin,” Cormack warned, making a tsking sound with his tongue as he stared at his brandy. “What is taking so long with the roast?”

  The man cutting the meat didn’t answer, instead remaining intent on his task.

  I felt the need to ease the tension — which was probably a byproduct of me being an outsider — so I said the first thing that came to my mind. “You know, Aisling is probably better off not wearing a bra. With her back problems, a bra could make her feel worse ... and I know everyone here wants her to feel okay. Wearing a bra isn’t a big deal unless you make it a big deal.”

  The table fell silent and I pressed the tip of my tongue against the back of my teeth as I slid a sidelong look to Cormack, who was watching me with unreadable eyes.

  “I mean, I’m not a doctor or anything,” I babbled. “I don’t pretend to be a doctor. I’ve seen a lot of doctors on television. I’ve also witnessed a lot of back pain associated with bras, and Aisling is preparing to bring a human being into the world — something you guys know nothing about. I’d think you’d cut her a little slack.”

  Aisling was the first to break the silence as she chuckled. “Oh, I like you. I like you so much I’m going to make you my sidekick.”

  “Jerry won’t like that,” Aidan noted. “He’ll take it as an affront to his best friend status.”

  Aisling didn’t look remotely worried. “He’s going to love Izzy. Just wait.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say regarding her enthusiasm, so I merely smiled. “Um ... thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Is your father still staring at me?”

  “Yeah, but you’ll get used to it. I’ll say something inappropriate in a few minutes and he’ll forget all about the bra conversation.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  “Only if I pick a safe topic to cover next, which isn’t a given.”

  “Let me know which way you’re leaning.”

  “You’ll be the first to know.”

  Nine

  Braden was chatty when he dropped me at the boathouse. He promised to be in touch when they had more information. I was exhausted, so I fell face first on my bed, down for the count.

  I woke late the next morning because I forgot to set my alarm. I had time to shower and then race down the stairs. Someone had returned my golf cart to its parking spot — something I hadn’t even considered when I took off the previous afternoon — and I was grateful because I didn’t want to be late on my second day.

  Oliver and Renee were already at their stations when I arrived, and I felt a momentary twinge of guilt for not checking in with them after departing the previous afternoon. I was ready to issue an apology, but Renee was so bubbly I didn’t get the chance.

  “How was your day with Braden? Did you get along? People say he’s the surliest Grimlock, but I don’t know a lot about him. Did you find the wraith?”

  Since I was a babbler of the wackiest variety, I couldn’t help but take pity on Renee. She spoke before she thought. I could relate to that.

  “He wasn’t surly.” I thought about his reaction to Maxine. “He wasn’t especially surly,” I corrected quickly. “We ran into a wraith while out searching and there was an incident, but it wasn’t the wraith we were looking for.”

  “What happened?” Oliver asked, his eyes keen as they roamed my face. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You look ... drained.”

  The way he phrased the simple statement gave me pause. “What do you mean?”

  “You look tired,” he corrected. “Maybe a little run down. Did something happen?”

  “A wraith got its hands on me, but I killed it. I’m fine. I slept hard last night. In fact, I overslept because I forgot to set my alarm.”

  “Are you sure that’s all?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Well, okay.” Oliver shifted his eyes back to his computer screen. “We’re back on schedule after the delays yesterday. The home office is sending additional security to check every access point in the building, including the door that doesn’t latch properly. They promise that will be fixed by the end of the day.”

  “That’s good news.” I fought to keep a chipper demeanor. “I’m sorry about taking off yesterday. I should have kept you guys informed. I lost track of a few things after the wraith attack.”

  “It’s fine.” Renee made a dismissive motion with her hand. “We had things under control here. Obviously the wraith crossing the barrier is our biggest concern. That’s what we need to focus on.”

  “I still should’ve made contact.”

  “Cormack Grimlock informed us when you arrived at his house,” Oliver supplied. “We knew you were working and didn’t have time to place a call. This couldn’t have happened at a worse time. We’re all trying to get to know one another because we’re essentially strangers. Don’t worry. Things will work themselves out.”

  I could only hope he was right.

  I SPENT THE MORNING learning the system. It was something that should’ve happened the previous day but didn’t for obvious reasons. Oliver and Renee were patient as they ran me through the day-to-day schedule. I knew the basics from the classes I’d taken during my apprenticeship, but there was nothing better than hands-on experience.

  I enjoyed the environment. Other than the occasional conversations I shared with my co-workers, it was quiet. The whispering remained, of course, but that was somehow soothing. I remembered it from childhood and realized that the whispering was one of the things that drew me back. I supposed the whispering was something that occurred at all the gates, but this one was the one I cared most about, so that’s where I focused my energy.

  “What do you think it’s like on the other side?” I asked Oliver as he navigated the filing system while I watched. “I mean ... Cormack described it as a waiting room of sorts last night. I never thought of it that way. Do you think that’s what it’s like?”

  “I don’t know.” Oliver’s eyes were curious when they locked with mine. “I’ve never given it much thought.”

  “You’ve never given the magical gate that leads to the other side much thought?” I was dubious. “Why don’t I believe that?”

  “I don’t know what to tell you.” Oliver shrugged. “Death isn’t something that plagues me.”

  “I’m not plagued by death either.”

  “You’ve been touched by it,” he pointed out. “You saw your parents die when you were a kid and the memory has shaped your life.”

  He was an intuitive soul, that was obvious, but I had trouble catching even a stray glimpse of a surface thought when we were close. That was unusual. “I don’t remember the night my parents died.”

  “You’ve said that.”

  I cocked a challenging eyebrow. “And you don’t believe me?”

  “I don’t know what I believe,” Oliver countered. “I don’t think you’re lying, if that’s what you’re worried about. I think it’s far more likely you buried your memories. They’re probably accessible, but I’m not sure you want to know what happened.”

  “Why wouldn’t I want to know?”

  “That’s the question of the day.”

  I tilted my head, considering. “I want to know.”

  “Okay.”

  “No, really,” I persisted. “I want to know what happened that night. I can’t, though. I’ve tried.”

  “You were young.”

  “I was old enough to form memories. You would think this one particularly held enough interest for me to cling to it.”

  “Perhaps you did but your subconscious doesn’t believe you’re ready to embrace it.”

  The suggestion bothered me. “I’m not some precious orchid. I can handle what happened. The truth can’t be worse than the things I imagined ov
er the years.”

  “Probably not,” Oliver agreed, watching as I angled my head as an especially strong whisper crossed the threshold. “You hear it, don’t you?”

  Whatever I was expecting, that wasn’t it. “Hear what?”

  “The whispers.”

  I couldn’t hide my surprise. “Do you hear them?”

  Oliver shook his head, his expression thoughtful. “No, but I know others who can. You’re not the first, but I don’t think you’re one of many.”

  “Who else hears them?”

  “No one here. No one with our outfit, at least as far as I know. Those who hear the voices are more sensitive. Are you psychic?”

  I hated that word. It was a catch-all that could be applied to far too many things. “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m not a psychic.”

  “Bruja?”

  Most people used the word “witch.” Only those familiar with a specific population used the word “Bruja.” The previous day, Aisling quickly glommed onto my preferred word, but the rest of her family — all males, for the record — used “witch” as if the terms were interchangeable. The fact that Oliver instinctively knew to use “Bruja” was intriguing. “That’s the word I would use,” I said finally. “I’m sensitive but not psychic. I can’t read minds.”

  “But you can hear the dead,” Oliver pointed out, unruffled by my growing anxiety. “Your father was a reaper, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “That means you inherited part of his gift. That means your mother was a Bruja.”

  “Her whole family.”

  “You’re trained, at least partially,” he mused. “You were raised with your grandfather. He was your father’s father, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “You seem to know a lot about my family.” I grew edgier by the second even though Oliver’s countenance never shifted. “How is it that you know so much?”

  “I make it a point to know who I’m working with. Your story isn’t as secret as you would like it to be. Most people are at least aware of what happened to your parents, even if the details are sketchy.”

  “Do you know what happened to my parents?”

  “Only that they died.”

  “But not how?”

  “No. Do you?”

  I didn’t, but it was my most fervent wish to find out. That was a motivating factor in my return. I didn’t want to admit that, but I had a feeling Oliver already recognized the truth. “No. I simply remember panic ... and screaming ... and then the overwhelming urge to hide. I can’t remember much of anything else from that night, and I’m not sure what I remember is even true. It could be something my mind filled in the gaps for because I needed something to focus on.”

  “That’s a possibility,” Oliver agreed, turning back to his computer. “You’re here now. You’re back. You’ll remember when you’re ready.”

  He sounded so sure of himself I could only hope he was right. “Yes, well, here’s hoping.”

  “Here’s hoping indeed.”

  RENEE INVITED ME TO lunch in the aquarium’s small cafe. I hadn’t given the food situation on the island much thought, but I was going to have to make some arrangements. I couldn’t eat out for every meal — it wasn’t healthy or cost effective — but the island didn’t boast a grocery store and I had no idea if I was allowed to use the kitchen in the boathouse. I would have to make a call.

  “This is Collin O’Reilly.” Renee beamed as she introduced me to the man standing behind the counter in the small cafe. “He runs this place and lives in the lighthouse.”

  “You live in the lighthouse?” I had no idea that was allowed. “I didn’t know they had living quarters there.”

  “It’s a small apartment,” Collin replied, wisps of an Irish brogue causing his voice to sound almost musical. “A lot of weddings are held outside, but access to the inside of the building is limited.”

  “Do you live there by yourself?”

  Collin’s smile slipped. “No. I live there with my wife.”

  “Claire,” Renee supplied, her eyes sparkling. “They’re quite the couple.”

  Instead of returning Renee’s smile, Collin scorched her with a dark look. “Now don’t you start.”

  Renee adopted an air of innocence. “What did I say? I was simply being truthful.”

  “You were being obnoxious,” Collin corrected, extending a warning finger. “Don’t bring up that woman unless you want me to lick your hamburger bun.”

  Now it was Renee’s turn to frown. “You know I don’t like it when you threaten to mess with my food. That’s completely disgusting and gross.”

  “So is my wife.” Collin fixed me with a polite but no-nonsense look. “What will it be?”

  I ordered a burger and fries because it seemed the easiest choice. Renee and I chose a table by the window and stared out at the cloudy skies.

  “I didn’t realize so many workers lived on the island,” I admitted after a few moments of silence. “I thought I was the only one for some reason. I guess that’s silly. I always thought my parents and I were the only ones on the island when I was growing up. I wonder why I thought that.”

  Renee shrugged as she sipped her soda. “I’m not sure. There’re not many people who live here.”

  “Do you?”

  “I live about five miles on the other side of the bridge.”

  “Do you wish you lived here?”

  “There are times in the summer I’m jealous of those who don’t have to leave when our shifts end,” Renee admitted. “When the weather is warm and everyone is having a good time, I wish I could stay. When the weather is bad, I’m happy to have my little apartment. I prefer being close to stores and theaters, better restaurants. There’s only the one food option here.”

  “I figured.” I played with my straw wrapper as I leaned back in my chair. “Besides Collin and his wife — what’s up with that, by the way? — who else lives here?”

  “Oliver lives on the second floor of the casino with his boyfriend, Brett Soloman,” Renee replied. “They’ve been together for a long time.”

  “What does Brett do?”

  “He runs the casino.”

  Ah, that made sense. “Okay. Anyone else?”

  “No. It’s just the few. There are a handful of people who live close to the bridge, so it’s not as if you’re cut off from society or anything.”

  Even though it was only a short bridge ride to civilization, the island did feel a bit lonely, especially now when the weather kept people away. “That’s good to know. I need to find a grocery store, but I’m not sure I can cook in the boathouse.”

  “You’re allowed to use the boathouse kitchen. Don’t worry about that. The previous folks who held your job all used the kitchen. It’s expected.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  We talked about mundane things while we waited for Collin to deliver our burgers. Inevitably, conversation turned to Claire O’Reilly and I couldn’t help but ask the obvious question.

  “Why does he stay with his wife if he hates her so much?”

  “Claire’s not so bad.”

  “He seems to think differently.”

  Renee smirked as she nodded. “Yes, well, they’re merrow folk. They mate for life.”

  The comment was offhand, but I was understandably intrigued. “I’m sorry ... did you say merrow?”

  “I did.”

  “You mean mermaids?”

  “They don’t like that term. As a Bruja, you should probably tread lightly.”

  That was a fair assessment, but I couldn’t move past the idea. “That’s what they are, right? They can grow scales and swim in the ocean.”

  “Basically,” Renee confirmed. “It doesn’t have to be the ocean. Collin says he prefers freshwater because it dries his skin less.”

  “Huh.” I licked my lips, uncertain. “And merrows mate for life? Is that a law or something?”

  “Basically. There’s no path to divorce for
them. He feels he was suckered into the marriage because Claire stole his hat — it’s an old myth that I’m not even sure I understand — but their marriage isn’t full of warm and fuzzy feelings. I’ve never seen a marriage like that. One that was full of fuzzy feelings, I mean.”

  “I saw one yesterday,” I said absently. “Aisling Grimlock ... I guess her last name is Taylor. I didn’t ask, although I should have. She and her husband are all over each other even though she’s due to give birth any second.”

  “They’ve been married less than a year,” Renee said. “They still have the shine on their relationship. Things will change. Things always change.”

  Renee seemed to be in a downer mood, at least on the relationship front, so I let it slide. “I didn’t realize we had merrow on the island. I guess it makes sense. Michigan is surrounded on three sides by water.”

  “They’re pretty normal,” Renee offered. “Other than the constant fighting — which gets tedious, especially when the humidity is rising — they’re easy to get along with. As long as they stay separate, in fact, they’re both easy. It’s when they get together that things turn rough.”

  “I would think that makes proximity in a lighthouse uncomfortable.”

  “They haven’t killed each other yet.” Renee let loose a beatific smile when she caught sight of Collin leaving the kitchen with plates in hand. “That smells delicious. I’m starving. I didn’t eat dinner last night because I was so worked up about the wraith.”

  “Yeah, I saw it,” Collin said as he handed us each a plate. “What was up with that? I couldn’t believe it when I saw it. I gave it a wide berth but suggested Claire try to give it a big kiss.”

  My mouth dropped open, and not because of the tasteless joke. “You saw it?”

  Collin nodded. “Yeah. It was making a beeline for the shore. I didn’t even know wraiths could swim, but this one didn’t seem worried about the water. It left an evil essence behind, almost like an oil slick. It’s good the water is so cold because the essence won’t linger.”

  A myriad of emotions ran through me. Finally, the strongest rose to the top and influenced my mouth. “The wraith had an evil essence ... and swam away? That doesn’t sound good.”