Lost Reaper

by Shelley Russell Nolan

  I made the bed and left Rhonda’s nightgown in the dirty clothes basket in the laundry. I came back to the kitchen and found Rhonda still frowning at her phone.

  ‘Is everything okay?’ God, what a stupid question.

  ‘You father is at the police station with Connor, helping him with his statement. They wanted you to go down there as soon as you woke up. You can take my car. The keys are over there.’ Rhonda pointed to the bench opposite her.

  ‘Thanks,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t thank me. Leave before I do something I’ll come to regret.’ She turned her back on me, hands gripping the bench.

  I took a step towards her. ‘Rhonda, what is it? Tell me, what have I done?’

  She spun around, her face white except for vivid red spots in both cheeks. ‘Connor almost died because of you.’

  I froze, my face going cold. ‘Andrew-’

  ‘You’re as bad as your mother, poisoning everything you touch, but I won’t let you destroy Connor like you did Andrew.’

  I gaped at her, tears burning my eyes as she pushed passed me.

  ‘I need to get the guest room ready for Denise. Her plane lands in an hour and it will be hard enough for her to deal with her son’s death. She doesn’t need to face the woman who drove him to it,’ she said before storming down the hallway.

  Tears streamed down my face. I scrubbed them away, grabbed up the keys and bolted for the front door.

  I cried all the way to the hospital, Rhonda’s cruel words echoing around me. I didn’t deserve to be treated like a criminal. I had done nothing wrong. Andrew had killed innocent people and threatened Rhonda’s precious son, not me. If they wanted to blame someone then Dad, Rhonda, Denise, and even Connor had played a part in shaping Andrew’s character. Maybe he’d have turned out better if he’d grown up in a loving environment, been nurtured instead of pushed aside for his younger brother, and had a mother who’d stuck around and not left him for a stepmother to raise.

  A chill washed over my body as I pulled into the hospital car park. If my mother hadn’t died she’d have shown him she had more than enough love in her heart for him as well as me. My mother, if I hadn’t distracted her while she was driving, would have made everything better. But she’d never had the chance. I’d taken it from her twenty-five years ago and now stood in the way of her soul’s salvation and rebirth.

  What kind of daughter was I? I’d been so focused on getting to Chris I hadn’t given a thought to what my mother was being subjected to by Grimm. He’d said he would torture her for an eternity if he found out I’d lied to him. Rhonda was right. I was a horrible person. How many more lives would be ruined because of me? Mum, Sarah, even Andrew, they’d all paid the price for my actions. And by not reaping Andrew’s soul I’d given Grimm the ammunition he needed to carry out his worst threats.

  I got out of the car and locked the door. My legs shook as I walked towards the main entrance. I reached the ward and got ready for battle as I marched over to the nurses’ station.

  ‘I’m here to see Chris Bradbury.’

  ‘Your name?’ asked the nurse, face blank.

  ‘Tyler Morgan,’ I said, stomach muscles tense.

  Her face broke into a wide smile. ‘Of course, Mr Bradbury said you’d be coming by. He’s in room 315, down the corridor on your left.’

  I walked as fast as I could without running and at the door to 315 raised a hand to knock. The door opened before my hand got anywhere near it.

  ‘Nice of you to finally show up,’ said Chris. A smile played on his lips but the rebuke stung.

  ‘I followed you here last night, but they wouldn’t let me see you. The nurse on duty threatened to call security if I didn’t leave.’

  ‘Relax, I was just teasing. It’s okay.’

  On the verge of tears, I swallowed heavily before responding. ‘It is not okay. The reaper saw you, he knows who you are. Grimm could pounce at any moment and the stupid nurse wouldn’t let me see you, and then whatever the paramedic gave me kicked in, and now a whole night has gone by and we have nothing to show for it. My mum’s soul is probably being tortured right now, my stepmother hates me and thinks it’s my fault Andrew was a serial killer and … and … will you stop laughing. This is not funny.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, his smiling mouth twisting. ‘I’m just happy to see you. Last night I thought you’d deserted me.’

  ‘You thought I’d … How could you even think that?’

  ‘They gave me some pretty strong painkillers, made me think all kinds of stuff, but I’m glad a nasty nurse, and not anything else, kept you away. Now you’re here I can get out of this place. Hospital food sucks.’

  ‘What about your arm?’ I pointed to the sling holding his left arm immobile.

  ‘I’ve got an appointment with my doctor on Friday to get the dressings changed and a prescription for antibiotics to fill, but I’m good to go.’ His eyes glittered as he gazed down at me.

  Then he strode through the door and I followed. We were in the elevator, halfway to the ground floor, when I picked up on his earlier words.

  ‘What’s the point having a doctor’s appointment on Friday? We’ll be dead by then.’

  ‘I wouldn’t count on it. I heard from Professor Killian yesterday. He said he has found something to help us and is making his way here from London. His plane lands at seven o’clock tomorrow night.’

  ‘Seven o’clock? That won’t give us much time, and what if Grimm comes for us before then?’

  ‘He won’t. Grimm might be an asshole, but he’s a stickler for the deadlines he sets. He’s given you until midnight, so we’ll have five hours for Killian to take us through what he knows.’

  Five hours to come up with a way to defeat the Grim Reaper. We had so little time and too much could go wrong.

  ‘Hey,’ said Chris, his good arm going around me as the elevator doors slid open. ‘It’s going to be okay. Killian didn’t go into detail on the phone but he’s confident what he has discovered will work. We’re going to be free, your mother included. Grimm won’t be able to torture her, or you, ever again.’

  I led Chris over to Rhonda’s car, unable to echo his optimism, my stomach churning. What if Professor Killian was wrong? All our hopes were pinned on him. I doubt any man could live up to those kinds of expectations.

  ‘Before we head to my penthouse, we need to swing by the police station. Lockwood wants to see me and I’m sure you need to finalise your statement. I thought we could take care of it together.’

  I bit my lip. He wanted Sam to think we were a couple. And maybe that wouldn’t be a bad thing. This way he would know there was no future for us, and I’d be able to move on and forget about what might have been, if not for Grimm. Better he thought I was with Chris than to risk him discovering I was a reaper.

  ‘That sounds like a great idea,’ I said, forcing a smile. ‘We’ll see him together and get it over and done with.’

  At the police station, a receptionist escorted us to Sam’s office. He sat behind his desk and gave me a steady look when I entered with Chris.

  ‘Thank you for coming. Take a seat,’ said Sam, gesturing at the two chairs in front of his desk.

  I pulled Chris’s chair out for him and then sat down. Butterflies danced in my stomach at the disappointment in Sam’s eyes when Chris reached out his hand and clasped mine. I forced myself to meet his gaze. It was harder than I thought to sit there and pretend to be romantically involved with Chris.

  I wanted to pull my hand free, to explain that I was with Chris because he was the only one who understood what I was going through, was part of the dark world ruled by the Grim Reaper. But I didn’t. Nothing I said would change the facts, no matter how much I might wish otherwise. A relationship between Sam and I was impossible and now he would see it too.

  Hazel eyes expressionless, he shuffled through a pile of paperwork on his desk until he found what he wanted and handed me a manila folder. ‘This is a transcript of the statement you g
ave Senior Constable Ward last night. Please read through it and see if you need to add or change anything. If not, sign at the bottom on the last page and you’re free to go.’

  Chris let go off my hand and I opened the folder. My hands were shaking, the words blurring on my first attempt to read the transcript. How could I sit there and read this without falling apart? Maybe if I thought of it as an exercise for one of my classes, analysing the pertinent facts as if I were planning to write an article about what happened, blocking off the emotional torrent they produced inside of me.

  My hands were shaking even worse by the time I got to the last line. I cleared my throat, conscious of the silence in the room from Chris and Sam. ‘Do you have a pen?’

  Sam handed me a pen out of his shirt pocket and I scribbled down my signature before dumping the folder on his desk. I wiped my hands on my legs, willing the tremors to stop. Chris caught my left hand, stilling the shakes with his touch. I took a deep breath and allowed my shoulders to relax.

  ‘Bradbury, we need a statement from you detailing how you found your way to Andrew Morgan’s shed.’

  ‘When Tyler didn’t return to my penthouse I tried calling her but she didn’t answer. I got worried and headed down to the station to see if you knew where she’d gone. But you were driving out of the car park when I arrived so I followed you, hoping for an opportunity to talk. I was parked down the street when Andrew clocked you over the head and bundled you into the back of his van. I guessed he was the real murderer and tagged along in the hope I could rescue you all. Of course, I didn’t plan on being the one who needed rescuing.’ He held up his injured arm.

  ‘Why didn’t you contact the police, let them know what was happening? Did you think you could handle a crazed killer on your own?’ Sam leaned forward, a penetrating stare fixed on Chris.

  ‘Believe me, I would have loved nothing better than to call the police and let them do the rescuing, but I hadn’t replaced the phone Sarah broke Monday night. I could have stopped to use a public phone but then I wouldn’t have known where he’d taken you. I was going to race to the police station once I had your location, but events moved too fast and I had to make a choice. Either I went for the police and led them back in time to find your dead bodies, or I had a go at neutralising the threat myself.’ He shrugged. ‘You know the rest.’

  ‘I’m not so sure. I have the feeling there is more going on here than a simple murder case.’

  ‘A madman with a gun isn’t enough for you? Be thankful that’s all we had to contend with. I consider myself lucky all I lost was some blood. It could have been a lot worse.’ Chris stood and then pulled me up beside him. ‘Are we done now, Lockwood? Tyler and I would like to go home.’

  Sam’s eyes shifted to my face and I opened my mouth to clarify Chris’s statement. The penthouse was his home, not mine. But I kept silent. It was better this way. I couldn’t promise Sam any part of my future, even if we did manage to beat Grimm.

  Chapter 36

  We left Sam’s office and I resisted the urge to peek over my shoulder at him as we walked away. I drove to the flat, changed, and packed an overnight bag. Chris followed me in my Corolla while I took Rhonda’s car back to her and I was glad for his company when faced with her silent condemnation. Then we drove to the penthouse, where we would stay until it was time to meet Killian.

  I put my things away in one of the spare bedrooms, politely declining Chris’s invitation to share his room. Staying with him might prove to be a bad idea, but I didn’t want to stay on my own at the flat and Rhonda had made it clear I wasn’t welcome with her and Dad. So I really had nowhere else to go.

  One problem solved, I took out my mobile phone to take care of another. After a quick conversation I turned to Chris. ‘Anne was fine with me taking the rest of the week off. I guess being front page news works better than a Doctor’s Certificate.’ My bottom lip wobbled and tears spilled out of my eyes. I collapsed onto the couch and covered my face with my hands.

  The couch bounced as Chris sat beside me, the comforting weight of his good arm around my shoulders. He pulled me close and tucked my head under his chin, all without saying a word. Grateful for his silence, I snuggled in closer. I didn’t want to hear platitudes about how everything was going to be okay. I’d gotten Sarah killed, Andrew might come back as a Wraith, the Grim Reaper had my mother’s soul, and we were pinning our hopes on the word of a stranger. No matter how distinguished his career, or how thorough his research, Professor Killian could never deliver us from beneath the shadow of death.

  I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live, to feel, to forget about the dark worlds sharing space with this one. But I didn’t have the luxury of choice. I asked Chris for everything he had on Malia, the Tr’lirians and my necklace, not willing to rely on an unknown professor to save me. But nothing I read gave me any clues on defeating Grimm.

  I was not called to reap throughout the night or the next morning, and while happy for the reprieve I did wonder if the lack of violent deaths held any significance. Perhaps Death had taken a backseat to Grimm’s deadline, putting the world on hold. Chris laughed when I told him my theory Thursday afternoon.

  ‘Believe me, there is no way Grimm would pass up on a chance to increase his soul count. Be thankful there’s a lull. Besides, Easton’s not usually a hotbed of homicidal activity.’

  Chris’s oblique reference to Andrew, the first recorded serial killer for Easton, sent a shiver down my spine and I sat up, glancing over at the clock on the bedside table.

  ‘It’s six o’clock. We should get ready,’ I said.

  Chris handed me a glass of amber liquid sloshing around with ice. ‘This might help.’

  I took the drink without words, and then sipped at the scotch, letting its potency warm me from the inside out. I went to the bathroom and applied makeup with a steady hand, even managing to smile at my reflection. How absurd of me to dress up for my date with Death. The smile faded. I had no illusions about how tonight would end. Chris still had hope, but the closer we got to Grimm’s deadline the harder I found it to believe any of us would make it to the next day alive.

  For Chris’s sake, I pushed these thoughts aside as we waited for Professor Killian to arrive. Chris had sent a car to get him and I watched the clock tick over to seven o’clock. If the plane was on time, our last hope would soon be here.

  When the front desk called Chris to let him know his visitor was on his way up, I stood and faced the open doorway. When I heard the ding of the elevator arriving, I reached out and clasped Chris’s hand.

  Professor Killian strode inside the penthouse, a briefcase in his left hand. More than a match for Chris in height, Killian’s long legs ate up the distance between us. His blue eyes constantly roamed, scanning his surroundings, like a tiger scoping out an unknown section of jungle. Handsome, rugged features set in a stern expression, he put me more in mind of a soldier than a mild-mannered professor.

  Killian placed his briefcase down on the coffee table and turned to face me. ‘Malia’s blood is as potent as ever, I see. You look just like the treacherous bitch. No doubt you are as deadly as she was.’

  I reeled; stunned by the hatred in his voice.

  ‘What the hell?’ Chris’s grip on my hand tightened.

  ‘As for you, Bradbury, your father is most disappointed with your liaison with the spawn of the woman who killed his sister.’

  Chris’s face went white. ‘No, that’s not possible. I’m not Cade’s son. I can’t be.’

  ‘Did you really believe Alan Bradbury was the biological father of this?’ Killian gestured at Chris’s muscular frame. ‘Hardly. Cade visited the original Chris Bradbury’s mother for the sole purpose of creating you, and what a disappointment you turned out to be. All those years wasted, the careful breeding of Liren’s human line, and this is what we end up with. A man who climbs into bed with the enemy the first chance he gets. Still, we might be able to salvage something out of this ruinous relationship if you start using
your brains instead of your penis to make decisions.’

  Chris lunged at Killian, a roar erupting from his mouth. But his punch hit empty air and a derisive snort came from behind us. I whirled around to find Killian standing in front of the doors.

  ‘I no longer have wings, but I am still a full-blooded Tr’lirian. I can slip into the astral plane any time I want. So go ahead, take another shot, but if you want to beat Grimm at his own game then you had better suck it up and listen, because I am the only hope you have.’

  I clutched Chris’s arm, holding him back, my eyes fixed on Killian. ‘Is it true? Do you know of a way to defeat Grimm?’

  Killian’s cold stare froze me in place. He lifted one eyebrow. ‘If you can think with your brains instead of what is between your legs, there is a chance.’

  ‘If you don’t shut up …’ said Chris, his hands knotted into fists.

  ‘You will do what? Bore me to death with harsh words and ineffectual action? Do yourself a favour and shut the hell up. I have a plan.’ His teeth gleamed when his mouth opened into a barracuda smile. ‘It is Cade’s plan, one to bring about the end of Almorthanos and any who side with Clan Davilia, including the Grim Reaper.’

  At Killian’s insistence we moved to the large dining table. He sat across from us, briefcase unopened in front of him. ‘First some background information. Not only is Cade the biological father of your host body, he is also your distant uncle, both of your host and your original body. Liren’s blood runs in both families and Cade’s visits to Mrs Bradbury ensured her son would be borne with a strong Tr’lirian heritage.’

  ‘I don’t have wings. I can’t slip into the astral plane, so what is it you want me for?’