Origins (The Grimm Cases Book 1)

by Lyla Oweds

  But no one has ever believed me…

  “You aren’t the only special one out there, baby girl.” Damen grabbed my hand, and I followed along passively as he continued. “Not by a long shot.”

  I found myself back at Damen’s house again under much different circumstances than the day before. I wasn’t a stranger showing up on his front porch this time, but had been invited over instead. Sorta. In either case, today it was easier for me to feel relaxed. And his house was warm, cozy today. As soon as we’d arrived, he lit a fire, grumbling about the cooling weather and lengthening days.

  There were a myriad of questions ready to spill from me. Questions such as: ‘Why had Damen meticulously restored the interior of his home, but left the outside of the property and grounds unattended?’ Or: ‘Why was he living in the middle of a creepy forest?’ It would be rude to ask.

  Despite proprieties, I needed to know—otherwise, I would start drawing my own conclusions. And that, sometimes, wasn’t the best.

  “Damen?” I studied the room, wondering how to word this in a kind way. “Why does your home have a Transylvanian vibe to it?”

  He was sipping tea in a seat across from me and paused as he shot me a perplexed look. “What in the world do you mean by that?”

  Okay, so maybe this atmosphere wasn’t weird for him. Perhaps this was his normal.

  After all, Damen had been the one who told me that I wasn’t alone. Perhaps he was paranormal and this was how he was accustomed to living. An elegant being, hidden away in grandiose finery amongst crumbling ruins.

  I contemplated for a moment. It was still daylight. Was it possible that he was a vampire?

  “Stop that right now,” he interrupted my train of thought with a keenly perceptive look. “I’m a regular person—just as much as you are.”

  I stared at him in shock. How had he known what I was thinking?

  “Your every thought shows on your face.” Damen put his teacup on the table and leaned in toward me. “Plus, you basically brought up vampires. It wasn’t a leap for me to figure out what you were thinking. I’m already pretty sure I know the kind of person you are.”

  “You said that you weren’t going to analyze me!” I said, indigent.

  “I’m not analyzing you,” he responded with a smug look. “I’m stating a fact. You appear to be passive and quiet, yet come up with such eccentric conclusions. It’s easy to see you have a vivid imagination.”

  He tilted his head as I pouted, and the light from the fireplace reflected back from his intense gaze. “You don’t need to explain, but I can’t figure out how you are friends with Finn.”

  I pursed my lips—this was not a good topic.

  After a moment of silence, he seemed to have gotten the message because he just sighed. “Even so. I’d like the chance to be your friend too. You seem to trust Finn, so do you think you could trust me?”

  My breath caught. He knew some of my weirdness, and he still offered. In fact, he knew more about me than I did at this point. And after everything that happened yesterday, he didn’t judge me. Instead, he wanted to be my friend.

  Why would he want to be my friend?

  I didn’t understand the offer, even though I wanted it so much. I wasn’t sure how I’d keep this friendship from Finn, but I desperately needed it.

  I should decline. There was no way this would end well, not with my history. However, when I opened my mouth to speak, I heard myself saying, “That would be wonderful,” instead.

  Chapter Eight

  Sound

  “Excellent. Then it’s done,” Damen smiled. He sat back in his seat, a confident air about him. “That being the case, we’ll get started right away. Is tonight good? Yes. We’ll all come over to Professor Hamway’s house with you. I’ll even have Julian pick up some Chinese food.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say.

  He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t like Chinese? That’s a shame. I was excited for moo goo gai pan. Well, pizza is fine too, I suppose.”

  What in the world was he talking about? I blinked at him, stunned. “But—”

  “We’re friends now. You don’t want to be?” He seemed genuinely worried that I’d change my mind.

  No, I did want to be friends, but…I nodded numbly in response.

  He flashed me a triumphant grin. “Well, friends don’t let friends get haunted by vengeful spirits. We have a ghost to hunt.”

  My finger was in the air in protest, even though I had no idea why. I didn’t even know what I could say. I had wanted help and planned on asking…again. One day. But this—it almost felt as though I had been outmaneuvered in some way.

  “So, baby girl—” Damen sounded smug, all of his attention focused on me.

  I squirmed under the attention. What did he want? Plus, he was still using that nickname. If I was going to be his friend, I didn’t think it was appropriate for him to be calling me ‘baby girl’.

  “What kind of sensitive are you?” he asked. His tone was flirty, but his gray eyes had turned serious.

  Again, his bluntness stumped me. He was just moving right along, wasn’t he?

  I wasn’t sure how to answer, because I really didn’t know much of anything about my sensitive nature…

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I didn’t even know there was a term for it before. I thought that I was just cursed…”

  I was so embarrassed. How pathetic was it that this was something I’d always had but knew next to nothing about?

  “Well, you aren’t cursed.” Damen seemed to be thinking. “There’s nothing wrong with not knowing, either. There’s a lot of misinformation out there. And even if you did know, it’s easy to become confused. Tell me about your experiences, and we’ll see what we can figure out.”

  I wasn’t sure how this was relevant to the haunting, but whatever. He seemed to know what he was doing.

  “I mostly get a feeling…” I paused, trying to decide how to describe this in a relatable way. “As if you are in a pool of murky water, and something brushes up close to you. It’s that feeling you get when you know you’re not alone.”

  Damen hummed, writing in his notepad, and glanced up. “That’s a good analogy, actually. Most sensitives can only say that they just know. Can you see the spirits? If so, do you have to do anything in order to communicate with them?”

  “Not all the time.” I pulled at my hem as I recalled past instances. “Not like I used to…”

  My words trailed off, and he inclined his head—encouraging.

  I sighed, not wanting to get into this. It wasn’t like I thought he wouldn’t believe me. It was the topic itself that made me uncomfortable.

  And was it really necessary for me to have to go into this much detail and reveal my deeply seated quirkiness with a man I barely knew? After all, he had enough problems just dealing with Finn…

  “I don’t do anything to cause it to happen,” I said. “But I had always been able to see shapes, figures, shadows…In most instances, they appeared like people. I could talk to them if I wanted. But I tried not to. Then some stuff happened—and it wasn’t the same after that. The hauntings only recently started up again when I took on this house-sitting job at Professor Hamway’s.”

  “I’m not going to pressure you to talk about things that you don’t want to disclose.” Damen must have noticed my discomfort. He didn’t seem pleased but also didn’t press. Thankfully. “Seeing spirits and communicating with them is something else—a clairvoyant medium. Did you see something at Professor Hamway’s house?”

  I nodded, overwhelmed. “I saw a little girl early this morning. But I couldn’t tell what she was wearing, or very much about her appearance. She didn’t talk to me. And I couldn’t pinpoint when she might have died…”

  My recollection trailed, and a thought pulled at my consciousness. I could tell Damen; he knew more than I did about spirits. I’d originally believed I’d imagined it, but what if I hadn’t? “I think there’s more than one, but I’m not
entirely sure. It’s confusing, and I get a lot of conflicting information. It’s hard to think.”

  Damen frowned as he wrote down something else. “We’ll figure it out. Sometimes mediums can only see certain types of spirits. Good call on trying to pinpoint the year of death. You were at the library trying to research the house?”

  “Yes,” I admitted. “I wanted to search through old records. But I wasn’t sure how—”

  My statement was cut off as the double doors slammed open.

  A disheveled Miles burst into the room. Without looking around, he began to pace in front of the fireplace, tugging at his scarf nervously. “Damen, this is a disaster! I haven’t been able to find—”

  He stopped as quickly as he began when he spotted me, and I couldn’t help but hide behind my teacup under the weight of his full attention.

  “You’re here!” he said. Before I knew what was happening, he was already sitting beside me on the couch, his arm flung over my shoulders. “Did you get my note? Did you get the flowers? Titus wanted to give you chocolates, but I didn’t think it’d be a good idea.”

  The statement made me blush even more. My stomach fluttered and I set my teacup down before I dropped it. “Thank you, I loved the flowers.”

  “Good.” His face brightened. For some reason, me not running away made him happy. “In the language of flowers, hyacinths mean ‘I’m sorry.’ I thought it was fitting—considering.”

  I didn’t know how my face could grow any warmer. However, my sudden anxiousness melted away as, after a moment, I was lost in Miles’s chocolate brown eyes.

  “I know,” I heard myself saying. “I’m a botany major.”

  The second I said it, my heart turned to lead. That had sounded completely rude. He was only trying to be nice. I was a terrible person.

  But Miles didn’t seem to think so. His gaze softened and his mouth lifted slightly. “So you like plants too?”

  “Too?” I repeated his statement. “Are you a science major?” I had never seen him around the department before, but the semester was still young.

  “No, I’m in pre-law,” he said. “My focus is on environmental law, though. Plants are a passion of mine.”

  I didn’t know how it was possible for him to become even more attractive, but it had happened.

  I wondered how he had become friends with Damen, especially since Damen must be older if there was a grade difference between them. Titus, too. Julian, I could somewhat see the connection. Psychology and medicine were similar fields of study. But outside of that, it seemed like they all had such different interests.

  “So did you agree? What did Damen tell you?” Miles asked, glancing toward Damen. “Are we going to have a slumber party after all?”

  “Slumber party?” I asked, confused.

  I had never been to a slumber party with anyone besides Finn. And while those were good memories, I had a feeling that this would be quite different—considering the circumstances and all.

  Besides, wasn’t it unprofessional for ghost hunters to refer to an investigation as a party? Not that I knew a lot about ghost hunters, but still.

  I glanced at Damen, trying to see if he’d elaborate. He caught my confused look and smiled before he answered. “Absolutely. That’s what friends do, after all.”

  “We’re friends now?” Miles perked up, squeezing my shoulder. “Excellent! You did good, Damen.”

  I choked. I thought that despite our friendship status, Damen would maintain that they were supposed to be professionals.

  But now that I thought about it, no one had actually said that they were ghost hunters at all. In fact, Finn had only said that his brother was interested in the paranormal; and Dr. Stephens had told me next to nothing before sending me to the planned meeting.

  Oh no.

  “Hold on.” I tapped my chin, mentally going over the facts. “Are you guys ghost hunters?”

  I hoped my imagination hadn’t gotten away from me. That would be embarrassing. As it was, if they weren’t paranormal investigators, then I was just a random girl who showed up at Damen’s house one day.

  “Not technically.” Damen leaned back, and he and Miles exchanged a look. “We don’t take clients or go around to houses with haunting stories. But we know about the paranormal and many things related to those topics. In fact, you could call us experts in the field.”

  Experts? What the fudge did that mean?

  I was such an idiot. It was all I could do not to bury my face in my hands in shame. “Why didn’t you say so from the beginning? I thought you were ghost hunters! I can’t believe this…”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll still help you.” Miles rubbed my back. “Plus, it’s not every day that a girl shows up at Damen’s house looking for help. Don’t feel bad. Dr. Stephens sent you to us because of our personal experiences. We’re like ghost hunters. Did you…” He trailed off, looking at Damen.

  “We were discussing that before you arrived,” Damen responded. “Bianca can feel the presence of a spirit and can even see them to a certain extent. I’m sure there’s more. She said it’s been changing. We can look into it, but that’s Julian’s field. That being said, Bianca…” He glanced at me. “In cases like this, spirits are drawn to those who have these abilities. Have you ev—”

  My phone rang.

  Crap, bad timing. I snatched my purse off of the floor and dug around inside. “Sorry,” I apologized as I pulled out my device. “I have to take this.”

  There was only one person it could be, because my parents never called me. Leaving the room wasn’t an option. If I didn’t answer right away, it would be worse.

  I didn’t even see their reactions as I answered the phone—hoping that they would just stay quiet while I derailed this train.

  “Hello,” I greeted pleasantly.

  “Bianca.” Finn sounded upset. Finn rarely got upset. He was mostly cool, blunt, and calculating. Immediately, my heart began to race as I feared that something terrible had happened.

  “Where are you?” he asked.

  “Um…” Why was he still looking for me? Normally he’d have given up and gone back to his books.

  Whatever had happened, it must have been awful. My free hand gripped at my sweater as I feared for my parents, my sister, or…well. It had to be about one of them because I didn’t know anyone else.

  “What’s wrong?” I breathed, frightened.

  “You lied to me, that’s what’s wrong.” Finn sounded furious. Even so, relief washed over me. No one had been hurt. He was only angry with me. That was the lesser of two evils.

  Then his words processed, and my heart skipped a beat in terror. How in the world was I going to explain to him where I was? I barely even noticed Damen and Miles anymore. I had to fix this. “What—”

  “Where are you?” he interrupted. I could hear the wind in the background—he was outside.

  “Um…” Should I lie? That would be the safest thing to do. “I told you that I’d be at the greenhouses today…”

  “Stop that. I’m here now, and you aren’t,” he snapped. “Where are you?”

  I knew that lying was a terrible idea, “Um…” My frantic mind tried to come up with any excuse at all. A truth—a sorta truth? That might work. Something that didn’t sound suspicious. “I’m at a friend’s house.”

  “You don’t have any friends,” Finn replied. “And if you did, that means I don’t know about them. And you don’t know them, either. That’s dangerous. You can’t do that. What friend’s house? Don’t make me have to look for you, Bianca.”

  I frowned, somewhat disturbed despite my anxiety. What did he mean by that?

  “Bianca,” he sounded frantic. “This is your last chance. It would be in your best interest to answer me now before I find out the hard way. You’ve been acting suspicious lately, and I’ve had enough of it!”

  Fear flooded through me—I had no idea what he meant by any of this. But why did he need to know where I was?

  I couldn
’t tell him. If he was this upset about me being with a friend, who knew what he’d do if he knew said friend was his estranged brother. Plus, he’d connect the dots and figure out how I met Damen.

  I was such an idiot. I never should have opened my mouth. This was all my fault.

  My hands shook, and blackness swam along the edges of my vision. I had no idea what to do—what to say. But Finn was getting more furious by the second.

  “Bianca!”

  He’d find out. He’d find out everything and tell.

  There was a sudden movement beside me. Miles had snatched my phone out of my hands and walked out of my reach as he began to pace in front of the fireplace again.

  The world burst into color again, but remained hazy as I stared at Miles in disbelief. And now my day had gone from bad to worse.

  They had to know it was Finn on the phone. Miles had been sitting next to me the whole time, and Finn had been talking very loudly…

  “Hey, asshole. I didn’t hear everything, but I heard enough. You can’t talk to her like that! Who the hell do you think you are?” Miles snapped.

  I jumped to my feet, desperate to put an end to this disaster.

  But I hadn’t taken two steps before Damen was upon me. He pulled me back into his chest, holding me against him. He tried to console me, making a shushing noise in my ear, but I didn’t respond. My focus was on Miles, and my mind screamed that my world was about to come crashing down.

  I could only see Miles’s face—furious, as he yelled at Finn. I could no longer hear myself think as the nightmare unfolded.

  Damen was shaking behind me, but I couldn’t fathom why. I was grateful that he, at least, hadn’t been the one who took my phone. I wondered if that was deliberate, because Finn would have recognized his brother’s voice for sure.

  “I don’t care—you don’t own her.” Miles’s voice sounded hard as he frowned into the phone. There was an indistinct sound of Finn responding, but Miles cut him off. “It doesn’t matter who I am. All you need to know is that I’m her friend.”