1 Grim Tidings

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Or, we could just nip it in the bud here,” Dad countered. “That seems like the smart thing to me.”

  “Or, we could pretend Aisling is a grownup,” Redmond said.

  “Do you even like this cop?” I thought he was asking me, but his attention was focused on Redmond.

  “I don’t know him well enough to like him or not,” Redmond hedged.

  “You don’t like him.” Dad sat back in his chair so he could take us all in. “If Redmond doesn’t like him, he’s obviously not good for Aisling.”

  “So I can’t date a guy unless you all like him?” I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice. “When did that become the rule?”

  “It’s always been the rule,” Dad said.

  “It wasn’t the rule when Cillian dated Angelina.” It was a low blow, and I regretted it the minute I said it.

  Cillian cleared his throat. “I don’t think that’s making your case. We all know how that turned out.”

  “And Griffin isn’t Angelina,” Aidan said. “So far, all we know about him is that he’s a cop.”

  “And he’s suspicious of you and your sister,” Dad added.

  “For now,” Braden said. “When this is over, things might be different.”

  “Well, why don’t we cross that bridge when we get there,” Dad said, his tone gruff. “By the way, someone needs to go on a night run tonight.”

  The drastic swerve in topics was vertigo inducing.

  “I’ll do it,” Braden said. “Let’s go back to Detective Taylor.”

  Dad slammed his fork down on the table. “We’re done talking about Detective Taylor. He’s not going to be a problem because Aisling isn’t going to let him be a problem, right?”

  My throat was dry, but I answered. “Right.”

  “Good,” Dad said. “Aisling can collect the soul tonight.

  “Alone?” Redmond looked angry.

  “It’s a comatose patient in the hospital,” Dad said. “He’s been there for ten years. Nothing can go wrong. You’ll have to go cloaked, but it should be easy.”

  I nodded, my mind busy with other thoughts. “Fine.”

  “I’ll go with her,” Aidan offered.

  I sent him a mental apology wrapped in a small smile but shook my head. “No, I can do it by myself.”

  Dad puffed out his chest, exuding pride. “See.”

  “This family is a trip,” Braden grumbled, turning his attention back to his food. “And not a good one. We’re like the family trip to Ohio instead of the family trip to Disney World.”

  I followed Braden’s example and focused on my dinner, shoveling a spoonful of peas into my mouth. I couldn’t help but agree with him.

  COLLECTING souls in a hospital is mundane and tedious. The truth is, a high percentage of people pass away in hospitals. And, since we have to collect souls soon after they pass so they can’t wander away, we often find ourselves in busy emergency rooms and intensive care units – which means we have to make ourselves invisible for the trip.

  We don’t have a cloak, like Harry Potter, but we do have a ring. The ring, which looks like a gaudy family heirloom, masks us so humans can’t see us. It doesn’t hide our voices, though, and it doesn’t stop people from accidentally bumping into us either. It also doesn’t hide us from other supernaturals. The odds of me running into one of those on this job, though, were pretty slim.

  The other problem with hospital gigs is that they take some time to pass. The list we’re supplied with usually provides us a general time. It doesn’t take into account life-saving efforts, though. That’s why I spent the last hour watching eight people try to breathe life back into Don White, age eighty-eight.

  His soul detached from his body about fifteen minutes into the effort. I should have just collected it then, but I was curious. And, truth be told, I didn’t want to return to the condo and face Jerry just yet.

  So, I watched.

  Once time of death was called, Don remained standing next to his body, watching it with a detached curiosity, as all of the nurses and doctors left the room. When it was just the two of us, I slipped the ring off and approached him.

  “Mr. White?”

  “I felt you,” he said.

  “You felt me?” I was confused.

  “You’re an angel, aren’t you?”

  “Kind of,” I replied.

  “Am I going to Heaven?”

  I had read his file in the parking lot before entering the building. “Yes.”

  “Will my wife be there?”

  That was a difficult question. “I hope so.”

  He turned to me, his knobby knees poking out from the hospital gown. “You don’t know?”

  I shrugged. “Was your wife a good person?’

  “She was the best.”

  “Then I’m sure she’ll be there waiting for you.”

  “Good,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to be in a place where she wasn’t.”

  “So, you’re ready?” I pulled the scepter out of my pocket.

  “I’ve been ready for twenty years.”

  That was sad. I pushed it out of my mind, though. “This won’t hurt.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said, shrugging. “Let’s just go. I’m ready to see my hereafter. I’m ready to see my family again.”

  I wish they could all be this easy.

  Don was watching me expectantly. He was old and resigned, but he was still curious. He wanted to see every aspect of the process.

  I smiled reassuringly. I turned my head to the door when his gaze unexpectedly shifted there, mentally cursing myself for taking the ring off. How was I going to explain my presence here?

  It wasn’t a doctor or a nurse, though. It wasn’t an orderly coming to collect the body. What walked through the door was seven feet of pasty hell wrapped in a black cloak. It was a wraith.

  “What are you doing here?”

  The wraith didn’t bother looking at me. I couldn’t see his face under the cloak – not that I wanted to. I took a step protectively toward Don.

  “I thought you said I was going to Heaven,” he squeaked.

  “Don’t go with him,” I warned before focusing all of my attention on the wraith. I had never seen one up close before. “This is my soul.”

  The wraith acted as though he didn’t hear me so I took another step toward him. “He’s not for you.”

  The wraith finally reacted to my presence. He turned to me and I could see the horror under the cowl up close and personal. I opened my mouth to yell before realizing how fruitless that endeavor would be. It didn’t matter anyway. The wraith cast his arm out, catching me with it, and tossing me toward the window behind me.

  The window was large. A nurse had closed the blinds when Don coded, so no one could see what was happening unless they were looking through the small window in the door.

  I didn’t expect the wraith to be so strong. He was tall, but he looked frail. I thought he would have to put some effort into moving me from my spot. I was wrong. He barely touched me. I could feel evil crawling all over my skin, spreading from the point of origin on my abdomen where his arm caught me, before I realized that I was in real trouble.

  Then, I was flying through the air and crashing through the observation window – glass shattering in an explosion as I hit it.

  The last thing I saw was Don’s terrified face as the wraith moved toward him. Then everything went black.

  Twenty-One

  “She looks dead.”

  “She’s not dead.”

  “She might be dead. How would we know? We’re not doctors.”

  “She would show up on the list, you idiot.”

  “You’re all idiots. Shut up.”

  I fought to open my eyes, but they felt glued shut. It was too bad I couldn’t say the same thing about my ears. “You guys are giving me a headache,” I groaned, reaching up to feel whether my forehead was unusually large. For some reason, my head felt really big.

  “I think that was fly
ing through a plate glass window.” I recognized Aidan’s voice.

  I finally managed to wrench my eyes open and five concerned faces swam into view. Despite their jovial words, there was a tense vibe slumping far too many sets of broad shoulders.

  “How are you feeling, kid?” Redmond asked, rubbing my hand, worry etched across his face.

  “Not so great. What happened?”

  “We were about to ask you that.”

  My mind was a jumble of memories. “I’m not sure. Where am I?”

  “You’re in the hospital,” Aidan said.

  “She’s knows that, dummy,” Braden griped. “Even with a scrambled brain she can recognize a hospital. She’s not you.”

  “Then why did she ask?”

  “Because she was making conversation. She’s a girl. She likes to talk.”

  “Shut up,” Dad growled. “You’re all giving me a headache.”

  “How long have I been here?”

  “A couple of hours,” Dad said. “They called us when they found you.”

  “When they found me?” My memory was still fuzzy, although a vision of a terrified face managed to cut through the fog. I bolted upright in bed, immediately wishing I hadn’t. “Don White.”

  “He was the soul you were here to collect,” Cillian prodded. “Do you remember?”

  “It took forever,” I said. “They did CPR on him for more than a half hour. Once they were finally gone, I remember taking off the ring so I could talk to him.”

  “You took off the ring?” Redmond asked, his eyes flashing. “Why?”

  “So he could see me.”

  “Why didn’t you just absorb his soul?” Dad asked, working to keep his tone neutral.

  “Because he was confused and he had a few questions,” I said, picking at a few nubs on the blanket across my lap in an effort to avoid Dad’s probing gaze. “I only talked to him for a few minutes.”

  Since I was in the hospital, Dad was fighting the urge to wring my neck. “And then what happened?”

  “He was ready to go,” I said. “I had the scepter out and then something caught his eye by the door. When I turned, there was a wraith.”

  Redmond sucked in a breath. “A wraith? Here? In the hospital? How is that even possible?”

  “He was probably cloaked,” Cillian replied.

  “How?”

  “The same way we can cloak if we want to,” Cillian said.

  “But she could see it,” Aidan pointed out.

  “She’s supernatural,” Cillian reminded him.

  “Barely.”

  Dad pointed at Cillian and Aidan and then held his index finger to his lips to silence them. “What happened then?”

  “I told it to back off, that Don was my soul. Then I took a step toward it … .”

  “You took a step toward it?” Redmond looked incredulous. “Why would you do that?”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea. It seemed like the thing to do at the time.”

  “Well, for future reference, if you’re in a small room with a wraith, don’t walk toward it,” Redmond said.

  “Good to know. Now.”

  “I’m still unsure how you ended up thrown through a window,” Dad pressed.

  “The wraith just kind of … flicked his arm out … and the next thing I know I’m flying through the window.”

  “It touched you?” Braden was incensed.

  “Kind of,” I said, mimicking the wraith’s actions for their edification. “It’s more like it just kind of swept me aside. Like I wasn’t even there.”

  Redmond fixed his eyes on Dad. “They’re not usually that strong, are they?”

  “Not generally,” he replied, choosing his words carefully. “The whole thing about wraiths is that they’re supernatural, but they’re not really here. They’re straddling the line between life and death – living only by absorbing souls. They usually can’t get their hands on enough souls to gain real strength. They’re more like ghouls than anything else.”

  “So this wraith has been eating his Wheaties and is stronger than he’s supposed to be?” Aidan obviously wasn’t thrilled with the prospect.

  “What if they all are?” Braden asked.

  “All are what?” My pounding head was making it hard to keep up with the conversation.

  “All of them are bulking up on souls,” Braden continued. “What if they’re trying to make themselves stronger for a reason?”

  “What reason?” I asked.

  “That’s the question, isn’t it,” Dad said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “We have to find out why the wraiths are here – and what they’re doing.”

  “That sounds like an easy task,” I grumbled.

  “We have a bigger problem right now,” Redmond said, pointing outside the window of my room. We all turned to see what he was talking about, and I groaned as I did because my back was so sore.

  “Oh, crap,” Aidan said. “What is Detective Taylor doing here?”

  “What do you think?” Cillian replied. “He’s tracking Aisling’s name. The minute she was tossed through that window and the hospital staff went through her stuff to find out who she was, it was only a matter of time.”

  A flicker of panic ran through me. “What are we going to tell him?”

  As though sensing we were talking about him, Griffin looked up and met my gaze through the glass. It was almost as though an electrical current shot through me, lasting a few seconds before he broke the connection. Griffin nodded to the nurse behind the desk and then started moving toward my room.

  “Just let me handle this,” Aidan said calmly. “I’m the best under pressure.”

  “You are not,” Braden scoffed. “I am.”

  “Neither one of you are,” Dad corrected them. “I’m going to do the talking, and you guys are going to pretend you lost your tongues in an industrial accident.”

  “That’s going to seriously affect my love life,” Braden grumbled.

  “Don’t be obnoxious,” Dad ordered.

  Griffin knocked on the door before opening it. He glanced at my brothers and father in turn and then focused his attention on me. “How are you feeling?”

  “Sore.”

  “I bet.” Griffin moved to the side of my bed where Redmond and Braden stood. “What happened?”

  “She’s having trouble remembering,” Dad answered for me.

  Griffin raised his eyebrows. “And you are?”

  Dad was affronted. “Cormack Grimlock. I’m her father.”

  Griffin tipped his chin up in acknowledgement. “I guess I should have guessed that. You all have a few family traits that are hard to deny.”

  “Good looks,” Aidan suggested.

  “I was going to say black hair and purple eyes, but we can go with good looks if that makes you feel better,” Griffin replied, his tone flat.

  “I’m going with good looks,” Aidan said, glancing at Cillian for support.

  Cillian wasn’t impressed. “Why don’t you fall down under the sheer weight of your ego more often?”

  “I’m ripped,” Aidan replied.

  “You’re a moron,” Dad shot back.

  “In other words, just sit there and look pretty,” Redmond offered.

  “All of you sit there and look pretty,” Dad growled.

  Griffin smiled, but the expression didn’t make it all the way up to his dark eyes. “You still haven’t told me why you were here,” he prodded.

  “I said she doesn’t remember,” Dad said.

  “Why don’t you let your daughter answer my questions, sir,” Griffin said. “She was the one involved in the incident.”

  I clasped my hands in my lap as I considered what to say. “It’s really a jumble.”

  “Maybe you’re being distracted by all your family,” Griffin said. “Why don’t you guys go out and wait in the hall. That will make my questions go that much quicker. The nurse said that Aisling suffered a concussion and multiple contusions, but that they were going to cut her loose on yo
ur promise, Mr. Grimlock, that you would have a private physician check her over at your home. I’m not sure taking her out of the hospital so quickly after an accident of this nature is a good idea, but if you plan on following through with your plan I suggest letting me ask my questions to move things along.”

  I was stunned by Griffin’s bluntness and, one look at my father’s face told me he was, too. No one talks to Cormack Grimlock like that. When you have money, people kiss your ass. When you have a temper, people cower in fear. When you have both? Clear the room, folks, things are about to get ugly.

  “Are you trying to kick me out of my daughter’s room?”

  “I’m telling you it would probably behoove you to remove yourself from the situation, yes,” Griffin said.

  “Under what authority?” Dad’s voice was booming , his chest puffed out like a tomcat protecting his turf against another furry invader. I was waiting for the hissing and claws to come out.

  “The authority of the City of Detroit,” Griffin responded, his voice even and cold. “Ms. Grimlock was in a closed hospital room with a dead body, and she ended up flying through a window and getting knocked unconscious. Someone needs to explain that.”

  “She doesn’t remember,” Dad seethed.

  “I’d like to hear that from her.”

  “You just did.”

  “No, I didn’t. What I’ve heard is you answer questions for her and her brothers talk about how good-looking they all are. That leads me to believe you’re hiding something,” Griffin said.

  Crap on toast.

  “I’m calling my lawyer,” Dad announced.

  “That’s certainly your prerogative,” Griffin said. “It seems a little heavy-handed for this situation, but if you feel it’s necessary, go ahead. Since Aisling isn’t under arrest … yet … a lawyer really has no purpose in these proceedings, though.”

  “Dad,” I mumbled. “I’ll be fine. Just wait outside.”

  Dad looked uncertain. He glanced down at me, taking in the set line of my jaw, and then ran his hand over the back of my head and dropped a quick kiss on my forehead. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

  “I know.”

  Dad moved toward the door, stopping at the foot of my bed to shoot a look of derision in Griffin’s direction, and then snapped his fingers. “She’d better not need me, Detective Taylor. Let’s go boys.”