Chase Grim
Book Four of the Final Breath Chronicles
V.B. Marlowe
Other books by V.B. Marlowe:
The Shadow Pines Trilogy
Shadow, Shadow
Moonlight, Moonlight
Darkness, Darkness
The Dust Trilogy
A Girl Called Dust
Dust and Roses
Blood and Dust
The Everly Girls Series
Forever Snow
Forever Ella
Forever Scarlett
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2017 V.B. Marlowe All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be copied or reproduced in any matter whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. Printed in the United States of America.
Marlowe Blue Publications
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1
All eyes were on me. I took another look at the glowing scythe in my hand. It was normally pure silver, but now it shone brightly like a star. Warm pulsing sensations shot through the hand cradling the scythe. I shoved it away from me. “There has to be some mistake.”
I looked to my friends Naomi and Keira. They were the smartest people I knew. Those too knew everything that had to do with being a Grim. I was no dunce myself, but at that moment I needed some reassurance that this was some type of mistake. I’d reading about glowing scythes in my Grim History studies. They only signified one thing—when a Grim was to accept the role as the Lord of Death. There were so many things wrong with that I didn’t even know where to start.
First, The Lord of Death was the highest position anyone could hold. It was like being the king of the Grims. I was just a regular Grim so there was no way this could be right. Second, the Lord of Death had to be the descendant of the current Lord of Death, Mr. Dunningham and there was no way I was related to that bastard.
I threw the lying scythe away from me, watching it clatter noisily to the floor. Everyone stared at it in silence. Finally, Bram, Naomi’s older brother, moved forward and picked up my scythe, frowning. “What does this mean?”
The fact that he had no idea was not surprising. Grim Studies were the last thing Bram was worried about. Keira stood beside him. “Scythes only glow for one reason. According to this Chase is the Lord of Death. It is his eighteenth birthday after all.”
She was right. According to the Grim Covenant, I was officially a man. I was supposed to be confirmed and married to my betrothed. “Keira, you know this can’t be right.”
Just then the doors of the barn flung open. Dunstan, Dunningham’s twin brother who had been banished from Nowhere, and Doyle, Dunningham’s right-hand man waltzed in.
Dunstan extended his arms to me. “Nephew.”
I took a step back, not allowing him to touch me. Maybe Dunstan wasn’t so bad, but I would never get over the fact that he looked just like his brother who I despised. “I’m not your nephew.”
He gestured toward the scythe still in Bram’s hands. “According to that you are. The scythe doesn’t lie—nephew.”
The other Grims in the barn circled us watching silently. I wished someone would say something—someone who could make sense of this.
There were less than twenty of us who had run away from Nowhere. We were three fewer now that three of us had been killed in an attack. We were Grims and it was our job to collect lifestones after people died. That was how we lived. The more lifestones we collected, the longer we got to live. Right now, my lifespan was about three hundred and thirty-seven. We lived on a colony called Nowhere. There were several Grim colonies out there and each had their very one Lord of Death.
Our Lord happened to be a vile, evil, lecherous cretin. He catered to the rich Grims and made sure to maintain a poor population even though there were enough resources to go around. He rarely sent the poorer Grims on jobs, resulting in short life spans for them. He also sentenced Grims to death for the smallest infractions.
I looked to Doyle who was always a voice of reason. Although he was Dunningham’s closest confidant, he was a traitor and had been helping us while we were away from home.
Why did we run away? For several reasons all of them having to do with Dunningham. For one thing, he had sentenced Naomi to death because she had made a mistake. She’d intervened and stopped Human deaths from happening. This was strictly against our Covenant. Even so, I didn’t think she deserved to die because of it. There was plenty of Death to go around. Second, he had forced Keira into marrying him and the only way she could avoid it was to run away. I couldn’t blame her seeing as though all Dunningham’s previous wives died mysterious deaths.
As for the rest of us, we didn’t want to be condemned to the rules of Nowhere telling us who we had to marry, what to do with every hour of our day, when we were to go on assignment, whether we would be rich, poor, middle class, or everything else. Dunningham controlled every single aspect of our lives as though we were robots and we wanted something different.
Doyle gave me a half smile. “I know this seems absolutely crazy, but this is a good thing. Dunningham has been in power for way too long, longer than any have been alive except for Dunstan. A new Lord of Death is exactly what Nowhere needs.”
My jaw dropped. “Have you all lost your minds? This is some kind of mistake. There is no way I am the Lord of Death. I’m just a normal Grim. I’m not even related to Dunningham.”
“He’s right,” Bram added. “Dunningham never had any children on purpose so he would never have to give up his throne.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I have a father and it’s damn sure not Dunningham.”
Nokomis stepped forward from where she stood. “Speaking of fathers, we got a message that Dunningham had our parents put to Death because we ran away from Nowhere. That’s not true, right? Please tell me that’s not true.”
Dunstan shrugged which was not the response any of us were looking for. “Well, there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there. The transportation chamber is waiting outside. Shall we?”
Transportation chambers were silver capsules that looked like elevators which we used to get from one location to another. I couldn’t go back. If I did I would be expected to assume the role of Death Lord, and if my parents were indeed dead, I didn’t want to know.
I took a step back. “I’m not going back. I’m never going back to Nowhere.”
Before I could do anything else. Both Doyle and Dunstan had taken one of my arms and were pulling me toward the doors of the barn. They were both surprisingly strong. I struggled against them to no avail, the others yelling their dejections from behind me.
“You don’t have to drag him like that,” Naomi yelled.
“I’m sorry,” Dunstan called over his shoulder, “But time is of the essence. This boy is going to come and claim his throne whether he likes it or not.”
I barely got a chance to get a final look at the barn where we had resided for the last few months. Before the attack it had been beautiful green and lush. Now there were damaged houses, ruined vegetation, and large portions of the grass missing.
Doyle opened the chamber, pulling me inside with him. Naomi, Keira, Bram, and Dunstan squeezed inside too. The chamber could only fit so
many people at one time. The others would have to come over after us.
The chamber was lit by my scythe Doyle held in his hand. I wished I could leave it behind. Leave behind the proof these nuts claimed me to be the Lord of Death’s successor. I braced myself as the chamber vibrated and shot upward. I wished the trip would take forever but it only took about twenty seconds.
When the chamber came to an abrupt halt, the doors slid open and we filed out. Still sandwiched between Dunstan and Doyle, I realized I was standing in the massive foyer of Dunningham’s estate. The two men held onto me as if they thought I would run if they let me go, and they were probably right.
This wasn’t the first time I had been in Dunningham’s house. The massive ceilings, towering columns, and ornate antique furniture didn’t impress me.
“You all wait here,” Doyle ordered as he sauntered off. “I’ll be right back.”
I turned to the others as Dunstan still had a tight grip on my arm. “You guys know this is wrong, right? I’m not the new Lord of Death. I can’t be.”
Naomi gave me a sympathetic look. “Chase, I know this seems crazy, but maybe this is exactly what Nowhere needs. Would it really be such a bad thing?”
“Yes. Yes, it would.”
The chamber disappeared and returned twice more, delivering all the Grims while we waited for Doyle. Once he returned he instructed Dunstan and I to follow him and for the others to wait where they were.
Dunstan and I followed Doyle down a seemingly endless hallway which led to the back of the house.
“Ask about our parents,” Keira called behind me. I was too out of it to respond.
The tips of my black boots dragged across the plush carpeting as Dunstan and Doyle dragged me down the hallway. My right side was a lot higher than my left side as Dunstan was significantly taller than Doyle. “Y—you guys have to know this is some sort of mistake. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to see him.”
Doyle huffed. “It’s your destiny, boy, and there’s no escaping it.”
Just as we approached double doors made of smooth mahogany wood, they burst open. Two Watchers dressed in impeccable black suits eyed us suspiciously. I dug my heels into the carpet and pushed back once we hit the doorway.
The room was huge and magnificent. The walls where covered with bookshelves from the floor to the ceiling. A long, oak table sat at the center of the room. The twenty men of the council, ten on each side watched me inquisitively. Dunningham rose to his feet as someone shoved me inside the room. I barely managed to catch my footing as I stood upright.
The Lord of Death cleared his throat. “What the hell are you doing in my residence?”
I thought he was speaking to me but then I realized he was talking to his twin. Dunningham had hated Dunstan ever since he had procreated with a Human. Dunstan sneered at his brother. “Time to get off that high horse, little brother. It seems as though it’s time for my nephew here to claim his throne.”
Dunningham finally focused his attention on me. “You have no nephew. I don’t know what’s going on but it must be some kind of mistake.”
“Where’s the glowing scythe?” asked a man of the Upper Estates who sat at the end of the table. Doyle left the room and quickly returned with it. The entire room gasped. A man with a thick, black mustache sitting two seats from Dunningham bowed his head. “With all due respect, my Lord, we all know that a glowing scythe can only mean one thing.”
Dunningham glared at the man. “He would have to be my son and I have no son.”
Dunstan sighed and sank into one of the armchairs, making himself comfortable as if he owned the place. “Brother, you know just as good as I do that you have a pension for placing your manhood wherever you please. I know you’ve always been careful with not spreading your seed but it looks as though this one has slipped through the cracks.”
I narrowed my eyes at Dunstan. “Shut up.” If what he was saying was true, that would mean that Dunningham and my mother had . . . I couldn’t even think about it.
I’d heard stories of Dunningham having a son with one of his wives but that he had killed him the minute he was born. The way stared at me, he looked as though he wanted to kill me right then.
The man sitting next to Dunningham stood. He looked familiar to me and I was pretty sure he was the high man on the totem pole as far as the council went. “There’s only one way to solve this. A DNA test. Take hair from each of them, test it, and then we’ll know for sure.”
“But he’s bald,” I objected.
Dunstan rubbed his own bald head. “No worries. There’s a little fuzz up there. Definitely enough to get a sample.”
Dunningham ignored him. He looked as if he wasn’t happy about the decision but he didn’t protest. I didn’t know what the problem could be. Obviously, the test would prove this was all wrong.
The head council nodded. “It’s settled then. We’ll take the sample and see. In the meanwhile, the boy shall remain here. It won’t take long for the samples to come back.” He addressed the Watchers. “Please, show him to a room and make him comfortable.”
“No! I can’t stay here. I’m going home.” A cold reality hit me. Did I have a home to go too? I remembered the most important question I was supposed to ask. The other Grims were somewhere waiting for the answer.
“Wait. Did you really kill our parents like you threatened? Are they dead?”
My body went cold as the heads at the table bowed and everything fell deathly silent. “Yes, I did,” Dunningham said and I knew he was telling the truth.
I had never been so angry as my emotions boiled. I couldn’t believe that my parents were actually gone. That Dunningham had killed them because of my actions and I hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye. “Guess what,” I told him. “You’d better pray I’m not your son because if I am my first order is going to be to have you killed.”
The room broke into chaos because it was beyond unlawful to threaten the Lord of Death. Two Watchers dragged me from the room.
Outside of the council room, I was able to gain my footing. I could hear Keira and Naomi shouting my names from behind me. They had to be confused and they needed to know what had happened to our parents. They would find out soon enough.
After being dragged up a flight of stairs, I was shoved into a bedroom.
One of them yanked a handful of my hair. A sharpness shot through the spot on my scalp. “Hey, you could have used scissors!”
The door slammed shut and locked behind me. I still tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge.
The bedroom was decorated with all sorts of expensive looking stuff. A bathroom set off to the side. I would never understand why one man with no family needed so many rooms in his house while the Grims of Litropolis barely had tin foil roofs over their heads.
For the next two days I had no Grim contact except for the servants who brought me breakfast lunch and dinner. Each time the door opened, my stomach lurched thinking it might be Dunningham sending his men to kill me. If I really was to take his place as the Lord of Death, why wouldn’t he get rid of me? I imagined there had to be Watchers outside my door or he would have.
I used that time to think about my family and how I would never see them again and how I going to make Dunningham pay for their deaths if it was the last thing I did.
On the morning of the third day, just as I had set my empty breakfast tray on the dresser, the door creaked open. Doyle stood there impeccably dressed with his hands folded in front of him. He was grinning as if this was going to be the best day of his life.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed to sit up straight. “What are you so happy about?”
“The results are back. I’ve come to walk you down to the council room.”
2
I didn’t move right away. I was in my hurry for them to figure out that this had been a huge mistake like I had been telling them from jump. “Where are the others?” I asked. “Naomi, Keira, Bram—all the other Grims who just came from E
arth?”
Doyle swallowed hard. “They’re here. Dunningham is keeping them here while he figures out what he’s going to do with them. You knew he wasn’t going to let what you all did go unpunished.”
“So, he’s going to keep us locked up until he figures out how he’s going to kill us?”
Doyle leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms over his chest. “That’s what he would do, but if you truly are the new Lord of Death as your scythe indicates, it won’t be his decision. It would be yours.”
“Yeah, it would be,” I told him, “but I’m not what you guys think I am. I’m not related to that bastard. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to be the savior you guys are wanting me to be.”
Doyle waved me over to him. Reluctantly, I rose to my feet and straightened my wrinkled black T-shirt and smoothed my jeans. If by some uncanny miracle I was named the new Lord of Death I should at least look a little presentable. Doyle smile and patted me on the shoulder as I walked passed him and into the hallway.
In the council room, the same men were gathered around the table. Dunningham sat in his seat at the end sipping from a glass of dark brown liquid. The expression on his face was smug. He didn’t even acknowledge me.
A Grim in a lab coat stood beside Dunningham with a large brown envelope. I recognized him as one of the men who worked in The Mill, the most important building in Nowhere where the lifestones were kept.
The room had been full of chatter, but it fell silent as the man beside Dunningham rose to his feet. “Now that he’s here I propose we get down to business so we can move on with our lives and put this nonsense behind us.”
He took his seat and the man in the lab coat raised the envelope. It felt like five years passed as I watched the man unfold the top of the envelop and withdraw a sheet of paper. He reached across Dunningham to hand it to the man sitting at his left.
Chase Grim: The Final Breath Chronicles Book Four Page 1