Grim (Death's Apprentice Book 1)

by Scarlett Snow

  His Adam’s apple jerks with anticipation, and he licks the seam of his lips, his eyes shimmering. Wrapping his other hand around my thin neck, he leans in as if to kiss me, but then the doors are thrown open, and a cloud of black smoke fills the room like a ferocious wave.

  “Get your filthy hands off my apprentice! Now!”

  Materializing from the smoke, Death hovers imposingly in the air, his beautiful wings spread out to full capacity, and he’s clutching a ginormous scythe. The collar around my neck shatters into a million little pieces.

  Wow. My boss really is the Angel of Death.

  My heart clenches upon seeing him. His face is covered in bloody scratches and his suit has been severely torn, one shoulder completely ripped off. Trailing down his exposed, muscular arm are a number of tattoos, each of them glowing like lava…just like his eyes are doing.

  “Let her go,” Death growls, his voice booming off the walls.

  Zeus and Hades prowl into the hall, snapping their jaws at the demons, but they’re not the fluffy, adorable canines I’m familiar with. Zeus’ coat is made of fire and his brother’s is like shards of ice. They’re the size of fully-grown elephants and even the demons cower from them.

  “And why should I release her?” Lucifer clicks his fingers again and an equally large trident manifests in his grip. His other hand remains on my neck, though his hold isn’t painful or restrictive. It’s almost…possessive. “Especially when she endured such an ordeal in order to reach me.”

  He angles the weapon toward Death, his features pulled into a smug grin. The spear is wrapped in smoky tendrils that ooze through the atmosphere like ink spilling into water. I can’t help but notice how the demons steer clear of the entrance. None of them are interfering or making a single noise. It’s like they’re afraid of what’s going to happen, or they’re stupidly fascinated. Either way, I know they’re about to be sorry.

  Slipping me behind his wings, Lucifer lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I was hoping you would not appear. You ruined a truly pivotal performance.”

  “I was merely delayed.”

  “Delayed? How so?”

  “You very well know the answer.”

  “Oh, forgive me. I’ve grown forgetful in my old age. Not to worry. You’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

  Their nonchalant exchange is laced with blatant venom. At any second, they’re about to pounce on each other. They’re like two predators sizing up their opponent, just waiting to sink their teeth in.

  “Unhand my apprentice,” Death hisses, his voice dangerously low, “and I shall take her and leave your domain. Lay another finger on her, and I’ll tear your wretched body into pieces.”

  Murmured whispers carry between the demons. They think Death is a fool for challenging their king. I wish I could say that I wholeheartedly disagree, but I have a dreadful feeling coiling like a snake in my stomach. I don’t want my boss to get hurt any more than he has already.

  Because of me.

  “You thought you could keep her gift concealed from me.” Lucifer lifts himself into the air, pausing when he’s level with Death. “Have I taught you nothing, son?”

  I gasp at the last word. Surely he doesn’t mean…he can’t really be…

  “On the contrary,” Death responds curtly, “you taught me everything I know…Father.”

  Before I can register what’s going on, Death attacks.

  Lucifer leaps through the air, and Death collides with him, their weapons sending a violent tremor through the hall. It knocks me onto my back, my wings thumping into the quivering floor. As I struggle to catch my breath again, an urge to help Death quickly consumes me, and I scramble onto my feet and spread my wings.

  Fangs dig into my dress and pull me back.

  “What are you doing?” I snarl at Kaross, attempting to yank my dress from its disgusting jaw. “Let me go or I’ll give you another blind eye, you mutant cat!”

  I have no idea where this sudden burst of bravery has come from. All I know is that I can’t sit here and watch Death get hurt again. I have to help him.

  But everything is happening so quickly.

  Zeus and Hades dive around me, tackling the demons threatening to capture me or weaken Death’s advances. Death himself barrels into Lucifer at full force and strikes him repeatedly with his scythe. He manages to land a couple of what should have been fatal blows, but Lucifer is faster and manages to outmaneuver them.

  They move through the air seamlessly, twisting and striking with vicious abandon, but it’s almost like they’re the same person divided into two bodies. Each one anticipates and outsmarts the other’s movements.

  I suppose their synchronization makes sense if Death really is Lucifer’s son, but why do they hate each other so much? And why did Lucifer use me as bait just to lure his son into his fortress?

  Two days ago, I was preparing for a job interview. This is not how I imagined my week would turn out.

  I’m beginning to wish I was just the weird girl again who walked around with bags of salt in her purse.

  Wait, that’s right—I still have some!

  Digging into my skirt pocket, I slyly open the salt and pinch a small amount. I’ve never been so thankful for my weird obsession than I am now. If salt warded of evil spirits, surely it will work on demons?

  There’s no harm in trying.

  I flick the salt into Kaross’ face. The creature roars as its skin sears under the grains like meat on a skillet. It releases me and falls back, shriveling into a ball of agony.

  Wasting no time, I flap my wings and soar toward the chaos above. Zeus tears off a demon’s head and launches it over his shoulder. It comes straight toward me, but I punch it away and keep my attention focused on Death.

  He’s badly wounded, and exhausted. I can see it from his labored movements, the way he stumbles through the air after Lucifer. His timing is slightly off, and Lucifer is able to pierce him with his spear.

  Right through his chest.

  “NO!”

  An uncontrollable rage takes hold of me. I scream from the tops of my lungs, wrap my wings tightly around my body, and collide headfirst into Lucifer.

  We tumble into the nearest wall, our bodies scraping off the rock as we plummet to the ground. Lucifer grabs onto my wings and twists, shooting rapid bursts of pain through my body. It turns my thoughts into mush and I can see only agony misting my vision. But I reach into my pocket, and taking the salt into my hand, I throw it all into the fiery-red eyes glaring at me.

  He frees my wings and spirals to the floor, allowing me to take flight again. I don’t even bother to check if I managed to hurt him or if I just caught him off guard. Death needs me. I search for him, swooping past the demons launching at me from every direction. The dogs manage to keep them at bay, and I find Death near the entrance, lying in a heap on the floor.

  I land beside him. He’s covered in blood and barely even conscious.

  “Boss, can you fly?”

  His eyes are glazed over, but he gives a nod. “Just. Lend me your arm, Sacha.”

  I loop my arm under Death’s shoulders and steady him against me. A pack of howling demons clatter toward us. Thankfully, Hades lets out a stream of ice which blocks their pursuit. It probably didn’t buy us much time, though, so I act fast by helping Death into the air.

  “Where do I go?” I ask, my voice trembling. My entire body is shaking.

  [Fly to the top of the cave. I can get us home from there.]

  He must be too weak to talk. I’m so angry to have caused all this, but I don’t have time to grovel for forgiveness. That’ll need to come later. Right now, I have to get us out of here.

  With Zeus and Hades at our side, we fly out from the hall. More demons try to obstruct our path as we make our way across the river of lava. The dogs manage to deter most of them, but the largest demon I’ve ever seen appears before us. It’s like a monstrous rhino shrouded in thick metal armor, with two horns protruding from its skull. It swing
s a spiked flail from side to side, and all around us, creatures start to emerge, clawing out from underneath the earth. Not even the dogs will be able to stop them.

  There’s too many.

  Helplessly, I search for a way out. My chest pounds like wild pistons banging off my ribs, and I can scarcely breathe let alone find an escape.

  [Look above. Do you see that light?]

  I follow Death’s instruction and lift my head. There, high above us, shards of sunlight peek through a hole at the top of the cave.

  I see it.

  [When I give the order, I want you to fly there.]

  I’m not leaving you.

  Death lifts his hand and a ball of energy swirls into the air. The emerald flames crackle like static electricity. Using what little strength he has, Death throws the ball into the air, and the energy explodes into a rainfall of spectral flame. Each droplet lands on the demons, and their flesh melts away like papier-mâché tossed into a furnace.

  [Go!]

  I tighten my grip on him, and with every scrap of strength I can muster, I fly toward the light. The journey feels never-ending, as if the exit is growing farther away the closer we get. Death’s clutch wanes on my body and panic takes hold of me again. His powers obviously don’t work down here, and he’s dying.

  Please hold on, Boss. We’re almost there.

  Despite his weakening state, he wraps his wings around me.

  A surge of energy propels us forward, and we erupt out of the cave, shattering through the brimstone like it’s a wall of glass.

  I close my eyes, anticipating a harsh fall onto land. But all I feel are Death’s wings cradling me as we continue to sail through the air.

  Sunlight caresses my features, warm and reassuring. When I release my clenched eyelids, my heart swells with relief.

  We’re back home.

  The spotlessly white tiles supporting our entwined bodies are a welcome sight. I almost want to laugh, or cry, from the relief coursing through me. Then Death’s wings fall away from around my body, and he goes limp.

  “Boss?” I blink at him, pushing onto my knees. “Boss!”

  Zeus comes to my side and nudges my shoulder with his wet nose. His coat is no longer on fire and he’s back to his original size.

  “What’s happening?” I ask him, scanning Death’s body for any fatal injuries. My gaze lands on the arrow-shaped pitchfork tine still embedded in his chest. “The spear. Lucifer struck him with his spear!”

  I tear his shirt open. Dark, ebony veins writhe under his blood-covered skin, moving like thousands of little worms. Hades leans forward and inspects the wound carefully. There’s a long, awful moment between his inspection and the diagnosis. And when he utters the words, my entire body turns numb.

  “He’s been poisoned.”

  Everything takes a dramatic turn. One moment, I’m leaning over Death, praying that I simply misheard Hades. The next, Deacon is telling me to stand and help carry Death into his bedroom.

  I feel like I’m still trapped in Hell, surrounded by that thick, dense air that made it difficult to breathe. Guilt snakes into my chest and sinks its fangs into my heart, the pressing weight suffocating.

  I’m not entirely sure how I manage to help Deacon. My entire body is wracked with tremors, and at any moment, my legs are going to liquify onto the floor. Fortunately, I’m spared any of Deacon’s ridicule as we focus on getting Death into his private quarters.

  His room is the most beautiful place I could have imagined.

  We’re in the mountains, standing between a koi pond and a house built in distinctive Japanese style with paper screens and nearly transparent panels in the walls, all painted with the same designs of chrysanthemums and phoenixes. More snow-capped peaks gleam in the distance. Halfway up a nearby slope, a natural spring bubbles and cascades down into the pond.

  Deacon pushes open the sliding door, and we carry Death inside. The floor is covered with tatami mats, and the bed is low and wide with silk sheets and cushions. We lay Death down on the mattress and I gently guide his head onto the pillow. His skin has gone pure white, and the black poison is spreading from his wound to fill all of his veins. His beautiful face is mottled with a tracery of toxic ebony lace, and it’s killing him.

  It’s killing me.

  Deacon lifts Death’s feet up on the bed, then he turns his venomous glare on me. “You couldn’t just do your job, could you?”

  “I’m—I’m sorry. I was just trying to help.”

  “Maybe don’t bother next time,” he snaps, sweeping by me. “I’m going to find help.”

  “Wait!” The plea tumbles out before I can catch it. “It’s just… Is Death going to make it?”

  Deacon takes a moment to consider his reply. “I don’t know. He’s been poisoned by something more powerful than him. I’m not sure what’ll happen.”

  Before Deacon disappears entirely, I say, “It was his dad, you know? Lucifer. They’re family.”

  “I know.” His voice is softer now, a mere whisper. “I’ll be back once I get help.”

  I finish unbuttoning Death’s shirt and vest and pull them out of the way. I’m just flinging them onto the reed mats when Death moans.

  “Sacha,” he mumbles, the sound incredibly pained. “Sacha…”

  “I’m here, Boss. I’ve got you.”

  Gabriel flies into the room not a moment later, clutching the chalice he had when I received my wings. Ryan runs in after him.

  “Sit him up,” Gabriel orders, coming over to the bed.

  Ryan and I do as he says, and Gabriel puts the chalice to Death’s lax lips. There’s an unusual liquid inside the cup. It’s like blood and gold combined, all swirling together. Gabriel pours some into Death’s mouth, but he doesn’t swallow.

  I remember Katie trying to make her dog swallow a pill, and like she had to with Belle, I start stroking Death’s throat. He finally swallows, but he’s nowhere near conscious.

  “Good,” Gabriel says. “He has to drink all of this. Keep stroking.”

  I do. Between the two of us, we manage to make him swallow every drop. Gabriel sits back, and I stare into Death’s face, watching and praying for a response.

  “I’m so sorry,” I say, unsure if I’m talking to Death or Gabriel or to myself.

  The angel’s voice is hard and angry. “You should be.”

  Death’s eyes flutter, and they slowly open. He looks right at me, and for a moment there’s no spark of recognition. Ryan and Gabriel lay him down again, and I take Death’s hand and try to smile.

  “Hey,” I manage calmly, despite my erratic heartbeat threatening to engulf me. “We made it. We’re home.”

  He starts to smile back, then he turns his head slowly, looking around us. He must recognize his room, because he closes his eyes with a sigh of relief.

  Gabriel runs a hand over Death’s hair. It’s such an intimate gesture that I realize these two have been friends for a long, long time.

  And I nearly took that friendship away from them.

  “She’s safe now, but you’ve been poisoned,” Gabriel explains to Death, his voice considerably softer. “I brought you the Blood of Angels…”

  “Whoa,” Ryan says, peering into the chalice. “Blood? Like, you fed him actual blood?”

  “…so the poison shouldn’t advance any further,” Gabriel finishes, casting a hard look at Ryan, who falls silent. “The potion will help you, but you still need to fight off the part that’s left. Nobody else can do that for you.”

  Death nods and pulls his hand away from me. He reaches toward his chest, where that horrible arrowhead is still protruding, and says, “Take it out. Please.”

  Gabriel hands me a gold cloth and nods while pulling a silver cloth out of his suit coat. I wrap the fabric around the tine of Lucifer’s pitchfork and make sure I have a good grip even though my hands are shaking. I nod to Gabriel, who starts the countdown.

  “Count of three,” he coaches, his focus intent on the wound now. “One…two…
three!”

  On ‘three’, I yank the arrowhead out. Death arches his back and lets out a guttural scream. Gabriel presses the silver cloth to the wound, and I struggle not to take Death’s hand again. The poison in his bloodstream starts to pulse, writhing like tiny snakes under his skin.

  “Push!” Gabriel tells him. “Push it out. Push it toward me.”

  I don’t know how he does it, but Death groans and bears down. The black recedes from his face and slides back out of his body, retreating through the blood vessels once again until it leaves him in a rush. The silver cloth is saturated in the alien substance, and Death is sweating and panting for air.

  Gabriel reaches out a hand to me. His other is stained black from the cloth. “Give it to me.”

  I put the arrowhead fragment and the gold cloth into his palm. He wraps it in the silver cloth, and the whole bundle—silver, gold, pitchfork piece and poison—bursts into pure white fire. I’m dazzled, and Ryan throws his hand in front of his face to guard against the flare.

  When we can see again, Gabriel wipes his hands on a fresh cloth and looks down into Death’s face. His eyes are still closed and he remains sheened in sweat, his complexion a sickly gray. I’m terrified he hasn’t managed to pull through.

  Deacon enters the room and peers over Gabriel’s shoulder, his face stricken. I probably don’t look much better, either. Death’s pretty lips are open and I’m aching just looking at him, desperate to touch him, to hear his voice, to know that he’s okay.

  That I haven’t gotten him killed.

  The wound in his chest has closed and there’s no trace of the blackness that had been eating away at him.

  “Is that it? Is he healed?”

  Gabriel shakes his head at me. “No. The poison is out, but he has a long way to go. He’ll have a difficult battle to recover his strength and heal the damage that the poison inflicted.”

  I want to weep. Again with the stupid tears. “I’m so sorry. I never meant… I wasn’t…” I hang my head in shame. “I shouldn’t have gone off half-cocked like that. I shouldn’t have disobeyed you.”