by Nicky Graves
Grim Life
Reaper Files
Nicky Graves
Grim Life
By Nicky Graves
Published by Nicky Graves at Pierced Heart Publishing
Grim Life is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by Nicky Graves
Edited by Amber Barry
Cover by Covers by Christian
All rights reserved.
1st Edition, License Notes
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
To my Angelfish.
Contents
Books by Nicky Graves
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
More Information
Books by Nicky Graves
Books by Nicky Graves
Grim Girl
Grim Life
Grim Lost
More Grim books to come.
Prologue
Newly appointed Supreme Elder Buzzarly looked upon the Elder Council and puffed out his chest as he began his campaign against the newest reaper, Riley Graves. The female had brought Azrael’s wrath down upon them, and she was a risk to the reapers. Already having caused a battle that ended the lives of many reapers who were desperately needed, she was a liability they couldn’t afford.
“Elders,” the Supreme Elder said as he stood from the head chair prominently placed in the circular room. He grasped the red scarf that draped on his neck, indicating to the sea of black robes that he was the head of the elders. “We have a problem.”
A small murmur rose through the room.
“The girl is officially now a reaper even though there has never been a female reaper before,” he continued.
More murmuring.
“She also bonded with the blue life stone, which gives her enormous power. Power that should have never been granted to her.”
Several elders bobbed their heads in agreement.
“Something needs to be done—and swiftly,” he continued. “The longer she possesses the stone, the harder it will be for us to control her.”
Elder Rossen stood. His white beard clashed against his black robe. “She has fully bonded with the stone. There’s no taking it back even if we wanted to.”
“Correct,” Buzzarly said. “We don’t have the knowledge or strength to take away the stone. But the Guardians of Life might. They were the ones who took the stone away from Azrael originally.”
“No one has heard from the guardians in a thousand years,” Elder Milchek said.
“And it was still in stone form when the guardians took it,” Rossen said. “Riley Graves was able to absorb the stone into her body. I doubt even the guardians can take it away from her.”
“Then we only have one course of action,” the Supreme Elder said, pausing for effect. “We must imprison her before she grows stronger. If we can’t take the stone away from her, then we have no choice but to suppress her.”
“Imprison her?” someone gasped.
“It’s highly irregular,” someone else said.
“Elders,” Buzzarly said in his most authoritative voice. “We have no choice. The female has already brought Azrael’s wrath upon us. With her unchecked, there’s no telling what else could happen. She’s a risk to us all. And Azrael will not stop his pursuit of obtaining the stone. If he finds a way, we are all doomed. The only course is to lock her and the stone away. It will protect the stone and keep her from causing problems.”
The murmuring that had once been quiet grew louder.
One of the newer elders stood, and the room grew quiet again. “Two elders have mysteriously disappeared. And Azrael killed the last Supreme Elder. I’ve also heard rumors that Riley Graves is Azrael’s daughter, which means she’s the heir. Locking her away is not the right course of action. It’s a catastrophic blunder that will come back and destroy us. We need time to consider all options.”
“Azrael has not acknowledged the female as his heir,” Buzzarly said, dismissing the newest elder. “Nor will he. The Grim Reaper wants sole domination. And that means we have no choice but to keep the stone out of his reach. I call for a vote. Those in favor of imprisoning the girl raise your hand.” He counted. “And those who oppose?” He counted.
“The decision is made,” Buzzarly said to the elder who recorded the session notes. “I hereby conclude the meeting.”
Buzzarly returned to his office, unable to hide his disappointment. He had been confident he’d get majority of the votes. No matter. He could still imprison the girl. He’d just have to call in a few favors. Riley Graves would be out of his hair soon enough.
1
I ran through the park, wondering what I had done to deserve this. Dodging a low-hanging limb, I continued my pursuit of the woman ahead of me. Her bright, floral dress that peeked beneath her coat mocked me as I tried to catch her. Either this woman in high heels was an Olympic runner, or I was really out of shape.
But, really, I wasn’t that out of shape. And I was wearing stretchy yoga pants with tennis shoes. There was no reason for me not to be able to catch up with her. But here we were, running full force through a park. The cold air slapped me, and I cursed becoming a reaper. Sure, being a reaper came with the benefit of immortality, but it also came with the task of transitioning souls.
This woman was to be the first soul I transitioned.
But she wasn’t stopping.
My breath came out in white puffs in the chilly fall air as I pursued my target.
I had seen Lawson and Boomer take souls before, but I never knew where they took them. I was beyond curious to know what happened after people died. Was there a heaven and hell? Or did they fade from existence? Or were they reborn? Or something completely different?
Technically, I had died, but I never saw anything beyond blacking out and waking up as a reaper. So, that wasn’t much help.
The woman veered left, down toward a pond. I hurried after her, using the slight decline to boost my speed. She headed straight for the pond, and I wondered what she was up to. There was no way I was going in that water.
She came to an abrupt halt. But with my momentum, I couldn’t stop. My speed was out of control, and my legs couldn’t keep up with the rest of my body. I pitched forward, arms waving in a wild circle as I tried to regain my footing.
And then it was over. My body drove past the woman and face-first into ice-cold pond muck.
I sat up and attempted to wipe the gunk from my eyes, no
se, and mouth. Sputtering, I tried to rid myself of the muck from my tongue.
I heard laughing, and it wasn’t from the woman. I glared over at my trainer, Boomer, who had appeared next to the puzzled woman.
“It’s not funny,” I said.
“I disagree,” he said, still chortling.
“She ran. I had to catch her.”
“Did you forget you can shift?” he asked, amused.
Yes.
“Maybe,” I said, not wanting to admit my failing. “All of this is new.”
“Next time, shift. And you might want to shield yourself too. You looked like a nut running full throttle through the park by yourself.”
“I forgot.”
Shielding was new to me too. It made me invisible to humans.
“I didn’t want to train you,” he admitted. “But this has been entertaining.”
“Thanks,” I muttered.
I reached my hand up to him for him to help me out of the muck, but he shook his head and backed away.
“I said I was entertained; I didn’t say I was willing to touch you.”
I glared at him, but it didn’t do anything but make him laugh harder.
Grasping the pond weeds, I heaved myself from the gunk and rolled onto the ground, leaving mud in my wake.
Shivering, I asked, “So, how do I transition her?”
“First you have to get her,” he said, grinning.
I then realized why he was grinning. She had taken off again.
Instead of chasing her, I focused on placing my shield and then shifting to get in front of her. It still felt weird to shift by myself. For long distances, my vision flashed to black before arriving where I needed to be. But short distances it was as if my body was moving but I could only see in strobe light. Still images passed me.
I stopped and reached out to touch her shoulder. “It’s time to go,” I said.
“I’m not ready,” she said, looking as though she was about to flee again.
“You don’t have a choice. I’m sorry.”
“But I have something I need to do.”
“Like what?” I asked.
Boomer tsked behind me. “Rookie move.”
“I have to . . .” she said, and then she paused.
“Have to . . .” I prompted.
“Apologize.”
“No one will be able to hear you,” I said.
“Oh,” she said with a frown, and then she looked at me with a hopeful expression. “But they can hear you. You can help me.”
I didn’t think this was standard protocol, but nothing about me becoming a reaper was standard protocol. First, I was female when it had been an all-male profession. Second, I had an ancient man living inside of me that had a love of tea and a dislike of me. Third, I found out my long-lost dad is actually the Grim Reaper. The first reaper. The king of all reapers and generally a scary and unpleasant guy who wants me dead.
“What do you need me to do?” I asked her.
She beamed. “Buy a daisy.”
“No. Just tell me who you need to apologize to, and I’ll go after you are transitioned.”
“You might forget. Or you might not do it.” She shook her head. “You can either buy a daisy and help me, or I’ll keep running.”
“Or, I could just transition you now.”
Her expression fell, and I was afraid she was about to start blubbering.
“Fine,” I said. “But I don’t want any more trouble after this.”
She nodded.
I began walking to the florist, knowing I was still covered in mud. But I didn’t want to go home and shower until she was officially transitioned. I couldn’t fail my first assignment.
“For the love of cheeseburgers,” Boomer said, annoyance in his tone. “Don’t walk there. Shift. And be quick about it. I don’t want her turning into a poltergeist on my watch.”
I reached out to the woman and took her hand. I could have shifted to the transition area, but that would be mean. I had said we could go buy a daisy, and I would keep my word.
When we were outside the florist’s door, I opened it and walked in as if I wasn’t standing next to a soul.
“Hello?” A woman in a green smock poked her head out of the back room.
“Hi,” I said. “I need to buy a daisy.”
“Hello?” she asked again, passing by me and looking out the door. “Well, that was weird. I could have sworn the door opened.” She returned to the back room.
Boomer appeared next to me, snickering. “You are such a dolt. Unshield yourself.”
I sighed. “I’ll get it eventually. Where’s Lawson? Are we a hundred percent sure he can’t train me?”
Lawson was a lot more patient than Boomer. Plus, he was totally hot. Yes, he could be brooding and difficult, but there was more to him than just being the controller, which is like a reaper supervisor. He cared.
“You know he’s still recovering.”
“I know.”
Azrael, aka the Grim Reaper, aka Dad, had torn Lawson’s heart out but was stopped before he could completely finish off Lawson. To kill a reaper, the Grim Reaper must stab through the victim’s heart with his scythe, which is made out of sacred metal. Azrael never got to that nasty bit. And now Lawson has a long recovery ahead.
I shifted outside, unshielded, and then walked back inside.
The woman peeked out from the back room. “Oh, hello,” she said, scanning my muddy appearance. “Can I help you?”
“I need a daisy.”
“We have those. How many do you need?”
“Just one.”
“One?” she questioned.
I nodded. “Just one.”
“Oh, there must be a story behind that,” the florist said. “Something romantic like a single rose?”
I glanced over at the dead woman. She shook her head no.
“No, just an apology.”
“If it’s an apology, maybe you need more.”
I really didn’t have money for more and it didn’t seem required. “No, just the one.”
“Okay,” she said. “Would you like it wrapped, or do you just want to take it?”
“Just take it,” the dead woman said.
“I’ll just take it,” I repeated.
I paid the cashier and grabbed the daisy.
“Now where?” I asked.
“Excuse me?” the florist asked.
“Oh, sorry,” I said. “I was talking to myself.”
Boomer grinned. “You’re an idiot.”
I headed outside and then shielded myself. I wondered after the fact if anyone on the sidewalk had been looking and saw me disappear, but it was too late to do anything about it. I’d just have to be more aware next time.
“Now where?” I asked the woman.
“To the bank,” she said.
“Why the bank?” I asked.
“My husband works there.”
In my small town of Cloverfield, there was only one bank at the edge of town. I shifted us over there. Before I entered, I remembered to unshield myself. We walked into the bank.
“He’s at the desk,” she said.
I looked over to the side. In a small cubicle sat a man who looked as if he needed a little more sun and a lot less time sitting in a stuffy bank.
I walked over to him. He glanced up with a forced smile until he saw the mud covering me. His smile dropped. “Can I help you?” he asked with a pinched face. He reminded me of a weasel.
I handed him the daisy. “She says she’s sorry.”
He looked at it and then at me. He shoved it back. “Tell her I’ll see her in court.”
“No, you won’t,” I said, placing it on the desk and then stepping back. “She apologizes, and you’ll have to accept the daisy.”
“A daisy doesn’t fix anything. Just like her to think she can weasel her way out of it.”
I nearly laughed when he said “weasel.” I glanced at the woman. She grimaced.
“I had hoped
he wouldn’t be so stubborn,” she said. “Fine. Tell him I’m glad I did it. And he can stick it where the sun doesn’t shine.”
“I can’t tell him that,” I said.
“Say it or I’ll start running again.”
“Who are you talking to?” the banker asked.
Boomer laughed. “This is awesome.”
I sighed. “Your wife would like you to know something. These are her words not mine. She says she’s glad she did it and you can stick it where the sun doesn’t shine.”
His face grew red. He blustered, “Out!”
I turned and walked out to the sidewalk. “That was embarrassing.”
The woman smiled. “Yes, but I feel better. I sometimes forget what a stubborn jerk he can be. Good riddance.”
“What did you do to make him mad?”
“A lady doesn’t tell such stories.” She grinned and shrugged. “I’m ready.”
I glanced around me, making sure no one was watching me before shielding myself. Boomer then shifted us to the transition area.
I thought it’d either be like the gateway to heaven with singing angels and puffy clouds, or perhaps something more ominous like an elevator to the end of life. But this was a bland room that looked more like a dentist’s waiting room. Instead of posters about teeth, there were instructions in bold print. Form a line. Ring bell when it’s your turn. Keep hold of your transition. In emergencies, push the red button.