Origins (The Grimm Cases Book 1)

by Lyla Oweds

  “Why would it be unnecessary?” Miles interjected, squeezing my knee as he spoke. The calm his touch instilled surprised me, and I nearly missed what he said next. “Would we be in the way of his work?” he asked. “Was he going to take care of the issue himself?”

  What a strange question. Besides, wasn’t it obvious? If Finn had been willing to help, then I wouldn’t be here. But we were getting off topic.

  “Not exactly,” I continued. “In any case, I wasn’t sure what to do next. So I decided to see you as a last resort. I mean—it’s trying to kill me.”

  Damen started to say something, but Julian held up his hand—cutting him off. Miles ignored both of them and recaptured my attention. “Why do you say that? Why do you think it’s a ghost?”

  Did this mean they believed me?

  That little bit of encouragement was all that I needed. I put my teacup on the table and held my hands together in my lap. Someone was going to listen without judgment. Someone was going to help!

  I forced myself to explain before I lost my nerve.

  “It’s obviously a ghost.” I tried to keep my tone even—clinical. “The rooms have cold spots. But there are also noises around the house. Most of the time metallic banging, or sometimes scratching.”

  My skin broke out in goosebumps as I recalled the next events.

  “Sometimes I feel as though I’m being touched,” I admitted. “Different places—my legs, arms, and back mostly. But sometimes it’s my hair, and…stuff like that.” Just the recollection scared me, and I began to pick at the loose threads of my sweater.

  Julian noticed and held my hand in a reassuring manner. “There’s no reason to be nervous. You’re safe here—no ghost to worry about.”

  I stared at him incredulously—what kind of ghost hunter was he?

  “Are you sure about that?” I muttered under my breath, recalling the familiar sensation outside of this structure. It hadn’t been evil, but there was no way that this property was haunt-free.

  Julian’s hand jerked in response. “What do you mean?”

  …And again, my mouth.

  “Never mind.” I shrugged. If they were any good at their jobs as ghost hunters, they would figure it out themselves. If not, then it wasn’t my problem.

  …But what if they needed help? Perhaps I could mail an anonymous letter.

  “It does sound like a haunting.” Miles glanced at Damen.

  Damen nodded, his face solemn. “Is there anything else that has stood out to you?”

  They believe me? I hoped that this wasn’t a trick, but in case they did…

  “Two nights ago,” I continued, “I woke out of a sound sleep. I couldn’t breathe. And when I tried to get up, I couldn’t move either. Also, items have been moved around after I leave a room. For example, the dishes in the kitchen were displaced overnight.”

  I didn’t need to go into details, but I probably should mention the ladder…

  With my left hand, I touched my sore jaw, reflexively. “It’s been escalating. And it’s only been two days.”

  Julian released my right hand, and I didn’t have time to feel the loss before he grasped my left hand instead. I wondered what he was doing. He moved it from my face and touched my chin.

  “Is that how you got this bruise?” he asked. His studied my face with a concerned gaze as he nudged me to turn toward him.

  My face burned under his scrutiny—I hadn’t meant to draw their attention to it. I hadn’t even realized my foundation job was so terrible. “I thought that I covered it…”

  “That’s not what I asked.” His deep eyes examined my chin clinically, and his fingers pressed on the area lightly, causing me to flinch. “When did you get this bruise? Did you fall?”

  “It’s not a big deal. I’ll be fine.” I tried to pull back, but his steady grip held me in place. After a second, I gave up. “It was an incident with the ghost. I fell off a ladder.”

  Why were they so concerned? They didn’t know me, and I was trying to be nonchalant. No one would ever question after the first time, but he hadn’t stopped…

  Even Finn wouldn’t have pressed so much. But granted, he also wasn’t the most observant person in the world.

  “You fell?” Damen asked, his tone sharp. He sounded angry. “You might as well explain exactly what happened. Julian isn’t going to let it go. If he sees an injury, he’s relentless. It’s in his nature—he’s in medical school.”

  I supposed it made sense. “I was working in the conservatory and something pulled the ladder out from under me. I smacked my chin on the table.”

  Damen glanced at Julian. “Did she break anything?”

  Were they serious? It was just a bruise. I was clearly fine, there was no need to fuss. I’d only brought it up so they’d have physical proof of this haunting. The fact that they felt the need to hover around me, concerned about my well-being, left my stomach churning with unease. I wasn’t used to this kind of attention.

  Julian smiled softly at me before he answered Damen. “It’s just a bruise,” he echoed my thoughts. “A bad one, but it’ll heal. We should ice it though.”

  “I’ll get some,” Miles said, jumping to his feet and exiting the room.

  Meanwhile, Julian released my face and turned to Damen. “It’s already escalating into physical attacks. It might be more than a poltergeist.”

  Damen was taking notes again and didn’t look up as he answered. “True. Generally speaking, a poltergeist doesn’t seek to harm people directly. Most of their actions are attention-seeking.”

  “Not necessarily so,” a familiar, elderly voice said. I glanced away from Damen, startled to see Dr. Stephens standing at the opened doorway. He nodded at me as he entered the room, closing the door behind him. Claiming a seat of his own, he continued. “Poltergeists can hurt people, whether it is intentional or not.”

  “I am aware of that.” Damen didn’t seem surprised his mentor had arrived. In fact, he hadn’t even looked up. “However, if it’s been causing other physical issues—such as the inability to move or breathe—that’s an indication something more malevolent might be involved. That’s why you sent her here, is it not?”

  Dr. Stephens finished making his own cup of tea before answering. “No. The reason I sent Miss Bianca here was that not only is she actively involved in a haunting, she also claimed to have always been haunted by things. Generally, only one such type a person has a knack for attracting spirits. This is a trait that makes them stand apart from the everyday populace.”

  Panic raced through me—I had completely forgotten what I admitted to Dr. Stephens during my bout of verbal diarrhea. I was such an idiot.

  They would know. They would think that something was wrong with me.

  Dr. Stephens hadn’t sent me here for help—or rather, not any help of the paranormal kind. Damen was a psychologist, and Julian a doctor-in-training. I didn’t know what Miles’s involvement was, but Dr. Stephens had totally sent me here for an evaluation.

  I was probably their training tool.

  No one seemed to notice my horror, and Damen still hadn’t paused from his notetaking as he responded. “What’s your point? There are many mediums, sensitives, or whatever you want to call them in the world. We already know they tend to become a target more often than not.”

  “Think, Mr. Damen.” Dr. Stephens sounded exasperated. “She’s clearly something of the sort, and she just happens to be friends with your brother. You’re smarter than this.”

  Damen’s pencil froze in midair, and he slowly raised his eyes until they met mine.

  My mind was reeling from confusion. Did they believe me, or didn’t they? Was this some kind of practical joke?

  The tension in the room seemed focused entirely on me, and I wanted to flee. But there was nowhere to run and no way to make an escape. Instead, I concentrated on picking at an imaginary thread on my shirt, trying to keep my hands from shaking.

  “What does Finn have to do with anything?” I said. I
didn’t like this change in topic one bit—what happened to discussing the haunting? This was dangerous territory, and not something I ever wanted to address with others. “Stop joking. The fact that I’m his friend—or that I may or may not see ghosts—has nothing to do with this. Finn doesn’t even believe in the paranormal. He says that ghosts don’t exist. It’s a subject he is extremely passionate about.”

  The other inhabitants of the room seemed to find my statement to be hilarious.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  They were laughing at me. Laughing at the frustration and self-doubt I faced every day. Laughing about every time my best friend told me I was crazy.

  My vision blurred as I got to my feet. I’d had enough of people not taking me seriously.

  “It’s not funny!” Despite my inner turmoil, my voice was firm. The laughter died as suddenly as it had begun, but it wasn’t enough. “You don’t know what it’s like to live like this my whole life, and to have no one on my side. And now you’re all acting as if it’s a joke that my best friend says I need to be committed because of the things that I feel. It’s not funny.”

  All traces of humor were gone from their faces now.

  Before I could say anything else—or leave—Julian grabbed my hand again. “Wait, what did Finn say?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” They didn’t need to know. They had already heard more than enough and only seemed to care about Finn now. “If you aren’t going to help me, then I’ll just leave.”

  “Bianca.” Julian’s grip tightened and his eyes earnestly sought out mine, but I turned away. I didn’t want to be pulled into the strange hypnotic crap they were able to cast over me.

  He sighed. “Bianca, of course we’ll help you. But first, please tell us—what did Finn say? We really need to know. What happened?”

  No, they really didn’t need to know. And there was no way I could open myself up to that kind of humiliation and judgment—not again.

  “Never mind.” I twisted my arm and Julian let go at once. “I’ll just take care of it myself. You can forget I was ever here.”

  I could feel their gazes on me, following my movements as I gathered up my purse and made for the door. “I’m sorry to have bothered you. Thank you for the tea.”

  Someone moved behind me, and Damen called my name. But I ignored him. There was nothing else to be said on the matter.

  I opened the door, about to step into the hallway, when I came face-to-chest with my giant, lumberjack stalker.

  He actually followed me here? How persistent. I didn’t need this!

  “Titus.” Damen was right behind me. “What in the world happened to your face?”

  Titus—and apparently that was his real name—looked at me curiously with those striking eyes of his. And even though his face was blotchy, and his eyes watery and swollen, he was still as seductive as before.

  How in the world was it even possible?

  Despite my admiration of his physical attributes, my heart thundered in my chest in fear. Not only was this man apparently Damen’s friend, but I had also maced him.

  Sure, he had been extremely creepy. But it was different now. No longer was he a random stranger on the street.

  I was totally going to get the crap kicked out of me.

  “You were coming here?” Titus addressed me, ignoring Damen. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

  Surely there was a witty response, but I couldn’t think of it. My mental limit for the day had been reached, and all I knew was that I was about to receive swift retribution.

  “Titus?” Julian approached as well, sounding worried.

  This was very bad. Soon they would all know what I had done. And when that happened, they’d think I was even weirder than before. Plus, they would certainly be angry. Of course they would; friends should always defend each other.

  Titus frowned and reached for my shoulder, the very thing I had been terrified of from the first time I saw him. The edges of my vision blacked. So, I did the only thing left for a sensible young woman to do in this kind of situation.

  I kicked him in the balls and hightailed it out of there.

  Chapter Five

  Stalked

  I wasn’t sure if the guys—other than Titus—were adept at tracking, so I had no choice but to change my escape route. It was only after I had arrived at the bus stop—covered in burdocks—that I realized it would be obvious I would end up here anyway. So really, my painful trek through the woods had been for nothing.

  It was not my brightest moment.

  However, by the grace of God, no one had come after me. Not even for revenge for Titus’s crushed balls. I only hoped that their lack of response didn’t mean they were planning something far more sinister.

  I wouldn’t have been terribly concerned if it had just been the others—Miles, Julian, Dr. Stephens, or even Damen. The worst they’d probably do would make fun of me, or lock me in an insane asylum. That, I could handle.

  No. It was Titus who worried me the most. There was something unsettling about him—and it scared me witless. It also didn’t help once I realized that if he hadn’t lied about his name, then maybe he was telling the truth about everything else too.

  A security company, he’d said. I remembered reading things on the internet and in romance novels—stories about corrupt security companies with ties to the Mafia.

  He seemed like the type to belong to the underworld. All he needed to do was switch out the plaid with leather.

  And his apparent involvement with the group gave me pause. I didn’t want to be judgmental, but really—my life on the line. Every survival instinct that I possessed recoiled at his presence.

  Besides, the others had laughed at me. I couldn’t trust any of them.

  But at least it seemed like they were going to let me flee with the remainder of my pride intact.

  My relief was short-lived. I wasn’t back at my professor’s home for even an hour before Miles and Titus arrived.

  The fact they knew how to find me so quickly reinforced my theory—Titus was dangerous. Otherwise, how would they know where to find me? Why couldn’t they leave me alone?

  This was a nightmare. Seeking out Damen had been the worst decision of my life.

  As it were, I could only plaster myself behind the security of the front door—terrified for my life. I was caught between being too curious to hide entirely, and too cowardly to make my presence known.

  Should I call the police? What would I say? That two paranormal investigators were stalking me outside my front door with a large bouquet of hyacinths to lure me outside so they could kidnap me and sell my organs for profit?

  No, they’d never believe me.

  However, instead of pounding down the door when it became apparent I wasn’t answering, the two of them argued. It was actually an interesting conversation, and I grew brave enough to watch them through the peephole. After all, I had to gather more information on my adversaries.

  “You moron. Why are you so stubborn?” Miles said—frustrated, as he tried to convince Titus to return to the car, with no success. “She’s going to freak out even more if she sees you!”

  “Why would she freak out?” Titus frowned, sounding genuinely confused. “I’m here to apologize.” He glanced down at the purple flowers in his hand. “Should I have gotten chocolate, too, do you think?”

  Chocolate? I stood on tiptoe, trying to see if he had—actually—gotten a box. But, as he’d said, there was none. Although, as much as I loved chocolate, it probably would have been poisoned anyway. I wasn’t that gullible.

  Miles scoffed as he pulled out his phone, typing frantically. “First, you stalked the poor girl on the street. Then you overwhelmed her with your scary-ass presence when she was already upset. I’d run away too. If you gave her chocolate, she’d probably think it was poisoned.”

  “I’m not scary!” Titus argued, placing a hand to his chest. “I’m a friendly guy. Haven’t you seen my face?”

  “No, yo
u are scary,” Miles replied, distracted. “Damen says that there’s no record of her cell listed in the school’s contact information.”

  My heart raced. They were looking for my phone number. Not that they’d ever find it—I only had this phone thanks to Finn. Nothing was in my name. But it was the principle—stalkers.

  Titus still seemed confused, ignoring the fact that his friend tried to pry into the details of my life. “But my secretary says that I’m considered attractive. Forbes called the other day, wanting an interview. I don’t understand.”

  So not only was he drop-dead gorgeous, but he was also so modest. Part of me wondered if he was seriously innocent. It might be possible. He did sound harmless—

  No, Bianca. I had to trust in my instincts—they were all that I had left. I had to remember that this was a ploy. There was absolutely no way Forbes had wanted anything to do with the underworld.

  I was no fool.

  “You have no idea how women work because you never leave your office. You can’t just force yourself into their lives.” Miles put his phone away and rang the doorbell again. “Plus, you can be both scary and attractive. Just hope she answers the door, or that she’s even back here yet. Damen said this was the only professor out on leave. When we see her, we should invite her to dinner. Get her guard down first.”

  I narrowed my eyes. Only my adrenaline kept me upright. So that’s how they knew. I should have guessed. Stupid Damen. This was his fault.

  Of course I wouldn’t answer the door. I was lucky I hadn’t turned the lights on before they’d arrived. If I ignored them long enough, they would eventually go away. But I had no intention of going out there.

  Get my guard down. They’d have to be insane to believe I would willingly walk to my death.

  They bickered for about another hour before it became boring and I snuck away. Despite being criminals that preyed upon young women, they clearly had never mastered the art of breaking and entering.

  I lounged around the living room silently for another hour, reading on my phone, before I eventually wandered back toward the front door. They’d apparently given up and left. However, that didn’t mean that they weren’t hiding somewhere—waiting for me.