He had a point. “I’ll give it some thought,” I said. “If you could help us move, though, I’d greatly appreciate it.”
“I will definitely help you move,” Redmond said. “The sooner you move, the sooner Aidan will stop complaining. If I have to hear one more time about how you’ve used up all the hot water I’m going to beat the crap out of him.”
My brothers have odd relationships with one another. They’re eager to fight whenever the mood strikes, but they’re also loyal. Actually, when I think about it, we’re all like that. “Yes, he’s annoying me, too,” I said. “I can’t wait to put a wall between us.”
“You guys will be fine,” Redmond said. “I think he’s as anxious about moving in with Jerry as you are about moving in with Griffin.”
“How so? He and Jerry have known each other forever. It should be easy for them.”
“Except Jerry and Aidan haven’t always been a couple,” Redmond pointed out. “It’s new for them, too. They’ve always had you and Griffin as buffers when things get out of control. I love Jerry dearly, but he’s not easy to live with.”
“I lived with him.”
“Yes, but you two have a unique relationship,” Redmond said. “That’s not the same relationship he has with Aidan. It’s going to be an adjustment for everyone … and I’m so looking forward to the drama. That’s mostly because I don’t have to live in the middle of it, though.”
“Oh, well, thank you for your support,” I said, flicking the end of his nose. “Do you have anything else for me besides the change in my schedule?”
“Just this.” Redmond surprised me with a quick hug. “I’m so proud of you for growing up, kid. This is going to be good for you … even if you are nervous.”
I gave in and returned the hug. “I’m kind of excited.”
“And that’s why you’re cute,” Redmond said, releasing me. “If you run into trouble, don’t hesitate to call. Otherwise, just be careful. There’s bound to be a bunch of people around.”
“I’m not new.”
“No, but you are headstrong and act before you think sometimes,” Redmond said. “That makes your jobs dangerous even when they’re safe. You’re a trouble magnet and you can’t seem to stop yourself from making things worse by opening your mouth. It always comes back to bite you when that happens, too.”
I get absolutely no respect sometimes, I swear. Being the youngest totally sucks.
I HAD no idea what to expect when approaching the co-op farm. Essentially what happens in urban areas like Detroit is that parcels of land are doled out so locals can work together and grow crops. Since Detroit is in such dire financial straits, the city has donated numerous plots to growers in an effort to cut down on blight. If the parcel isn’t abandoned and is being taken care of, that’s worth more to the city than potential tax dollars that are probably years delinquent, if they’re ever paid.
I didn’t put my ring on when I hit the parking lot. The farm was busy, but no one was grouped together. I figured if I had to disappear there were several sheds and storage buildings spread about the property and I could easily duck behind one. I was a few minutes early. Unlike with Petunia the previous day, I wouldn’t be able to risk chatting with Rich Harmon. His file said he was a decent guy dedicating his time to helping others. It was a bummer he would die giving so selflessly of himself to others like this, but at least he was going to a good place. This was a job where sucking and running was not only optimal, it was necessary.
Even though it was November the sun was high in the sky. There wasn’t much in the way of crops at the front of the property, but something told me the greenhouse along the back would be different. That’s where Rich Harmon was supposed to be.
I got a few curious stares as I trudged the path between crop areas. I ignored them and pretended I belonged on the farm. I’ve found that if you give off an air of belonging, most people won’t question your presence. I was feeling pretty good about myself when no one questioned why I was there. That lasted only until I reached the greenhouse, though.
“Can I help you?”
I shifted my eyes to the left and pasted a bright smile on my face as a strange man approached. I didn’t recognize him, which meant he wasn’t Rich Harmon. If he was suspicious of my presence, though, I would have no choice but to beg off and regroup with my ring in the parking lot before returning.
“Hi,” I said brightly. “I was just looking around. I’ve heard a lot of great things about this farm and I wanted to check it out for myself.”
The man looked me up and down, seemingly taking in my expensive boots and denim pants. “You don’t look like a farmer.”
“Neither do you.”
“I’m a coordinator,” the man clarified. “I’m Mitch Monahan.”
“Hi, Mitch,” I said, extending my hand. “I live in Grosse Pointe. My house is only a few miles away. I’m not actually interested in growing anything myself, but I thought I might donate my time.”
“Uh-huh.” Mitch didn’t look convinced. “Are you married and looking for a charity to pad your résumé?”
“Um, what?”
“I see a lot of bored Grosse Pointe wives down here,” Mitch said. “They usually last two days until they realize there is real work involved and then they take off and don’t even bother telling us that they’re not coming back. Are you another one of those?”
I had news for him. I knew farming was work. I wouldn’t last two minutes. He didn’t need to know that, though. “As I said, I’m just looking around. If that’s a problem, I can go.”
“It’s not a problem,” Mitch said. “Knock yourself out. The greenhouse is full of new plants, but I think Rich is the only one in there right now. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask him. He’s good with people.”
“Great.” I kept my smile in place as I moved toward the door, briefly shifting my eyes to the side of the greenhouse where a teenaged girl with emerald eyes stared in my direction. She looked young, her flaxen hair blowing in the slight breeze as she hunkered down in her red coat. In fact, she looked too young to be hanging around a farm in the middle of the day. Why wasn’t she in school? Wait, when did I become the truancy police? Ugh. I’m officially old. There can be no other explanation. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
I was careful when I stepped into the greenhouse. The fact that Mitch saw me enter wasn’t good. I was hoping to slip in and out before anyone noticed. Now he knew I was inside. If Rich dropped while I was present and I did nothing, I’d look like a jerk. It was probably safer to leave before that happened.
I had just about made up my mind when I realized that I didn’t see Rich Harmon working inside the structure. I knit my eyebrows as I plodded forward, taking special care to look up and down each aisle of the low tables. If he was working and scheduled to expire, I should be able to see him.
I came up empty, though. I was just about to hurry back to the parking lot and put my ring on before returning and conducting a proper search when I heard a noise. I glanced to my left, narrowing my eyes when I saw a tall figure standing in the middle of the greenhouse.
I swallowed hard when I realized what I was staring at. It wasn’t Rich Harmon. That didn’t mean the figure was unrecognizable. I’d recognize the thin frame and black robe anywhere. “Hey!”
I yelled louder than I intended, and when the onyx-robed wraith swiveled I realized too late that it was a mistake to call attention to myself. Wraiths, tainted souls that live off of the essence of the recently departed, aren’t really alive. In fact, their lives are akin to a fate worse than death in my book. Wraiths are also deadly to reapers if they get their hands on us. I readied myself in case this one charged. Most of the area wraiths knew me and were eager to get their hands on me. I had no intention of giving this one the chance.
“Aisling Grimlock.” The wraith’s voice was barely a whisper. It was still a good fifty feet away, though. I didn’t miss the body at its feet. That meant Rich Harmon expire
d early. Whether the wraith was responsible for that development or not was anyone’s guess.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I said, reaching for the silver knife I kept sheathed beneath my hoodie. I’d taken to leaving the house armed since my mother returned. You never know when the next attack will come and I don’t want to be caught without something to protect myself.
“Aisling Grimlock must not be harmed,” the wraith rasped.
“Ugh. You guys are like skipping records,” I muttered. “Step away from the fresh meat.”
“Mine.”
“No, not yours,” I said. “That’s not your soul. That’s my soul.” I cast a quick look toward the door to make sure no one was listening and then focused on the wraith. “You need to go. If someone sees you here … .”
“Mine.”
Wraiths not only have no souls, I’m convinced they’re brainless, too. “It’s not yours,” I said, gripping the knife tighter and taking a step forward. “Move away from the body or … .” Or what? I had no idea what I was going to do if the wraith refused to follow my orders.
“Mine,” the wraith repeated. “Mine.”
“Oh, good grief,” I snapped. “You cannot stay here, you idiot. You have to go. The coordinator of this place is going to walk in here any second. I’m already going to have a dilly of a time explaining what I’m doing with a dead body.”
“Mine.”
“Son of a … .” I lost my temper as I took three giant strides forward. I was prepared to end the wraith right here. As long as it didn’t touch me I’d be fine. When stabbed through the heart, wraiths erode and turn into dust. Sure, Mitch might be suspicious of the new pile of dust in his greenhouse, but he wouldn’t know it belonged to a supernatural soul sucker. “I’m not messing around!”
“Mine!”
I jumped when the wraith lunged in my direction, lashing out in a wide arc and nicking the creature’s shoulder. It let loose an unearthly screech that was so high-pitched it hurt my ears. Luckily for me it was eerie but not loud. No one outside could hear the noise.
“Mine,” the wraith repeated. “Mine. Mine. Mine.”
“No, not yours.” I jolted when I saw the teenaged girl from outside move toward the wraith from another aisle. I hadn’t even seen her enter the building. She’d crouched low next to two tall plants and made her presence known only when she was close enough to attack the wraith.
“Don’t touch it,” I ordered, hurrying forward. It was too late, though. The girl was already moving. I saw something flash in her hand and realized it was a knife. She plunged it into the wraith’s back, a grim smile on her face as the wraith began to flake and corrode on the end of her blade. It lifted its head to the sky, its mouth open in a silent scream. And then, like magic, it poofed into a scattering cloud of ash.
She waited a moment before wiping the blade on her jeans. Gross. Wraith remains aren’t easy to get out of clothes. I know. I’ve had to junk a number of jeans over the past few months.
“Who are you?” I asked, dumbfounded.
The girl shifted her eyes to me, the odd green color even more striking up close. “I’m no one.”
“It’s great that you watch Game of Thrones,” I said. “Who are you, though?”
The girl didn’t answer, instead turning on her heel and striding toward the door. “I’m no one of concern.”
I didn’t believe her. I started to follow but she stopped me in my tracks.
“Don’t you have a soul to collect?”
She wasn’t wrong and I only had a small window of opportunity to work. “Wait!”
The girl disappeared through the door instead of responding.
“Well, great,” I muttered, yanking my scepter out of my pocket. “What in the hell just happened here?”
6
Six
I was a befuddled wreck by the time I hit my father’s house. I parked in the gated area at the front of Grimlock Manor and collected my things before hurrying inside. It looked as if a storm was approaching, and given the cooler temperatures that could lead to ice or snow – two things I hate – I didn’t have to brave inclement weather unless it was absolutely necessary. What? I’m a badass who whines when it gets cold. Sue me.
I found my brothers Braden and Cillian sliding in their socks in the foyer when I entered. “Hey, Ais!” Cillian, his shoulder-length hair fanning about as he slid, offered me a welcoming smile. “How is my favorite sister?”
“I’m your only sister.”
“And yet you’re still my favorite.”
“You’re not my favorite,” Braden offered, smirking. Of all my siblings, I fight with Braden the most. I’ve come to the inevitable conclusion that it’s because we’re the most alike. That is a depressing thought for a dour day.
“You’re not my favorite either,” I shot back, rolling my neck as I dropped my iPad and files on the console table near the door. “What are you guys doing?”
“They just waxed the floor,” Cillian explained. “It has that nice sheen on it so it’s extra slippery. We decided to take advantage of it.”
I snorted, the corners of my mouth tipping up as I watched them. This was a regular occurrence when we were kids and locked away in the house over Michigan’s long winters. It drove my father absolutely batty – especially when we took out a few antiques before he wisely removed them from the room. “We used to spend entire days doing this.”
“I know,” Cillian said. “That’s one of the great things about living in this house. We get to be kids for as long as we want.”
“I thought your favorite thing about living with Dad was the free food and laundry service,” I challenged.
“That, too.”
I rubbed my cheek and continued to watch as Braden took an extra-long run, which resulted in a hilariously long skid that ended when he smacked into the wall. The sound echoed throughout the house, and we all turned in the direction of the parlor to see if anyone heard us. If Dad knew what my brothers were doing, they would get a lecture. That wouldn’t stop them, mind you, but it would put a damper on the fun.
“What’s wrong with you?” Cillian asked, tugging on a strand of my hair as he skidded to a stop next to me. “You seem … quiet.”
“Which we like,” Braden offered. “My favorite part of family dinner is when you’re stuffing your mouth so I don’t have to listen to you.”
He was in a mood today. That much was clear. Unfortunately for him, my strange run-in with the wraith and the girl at the co-op farm had me in a mood, too. I was not to be trifled with today. Er, technically you shouldn’t mess with me any day because I’m an absolute beast when I’m in the mood to fight. My job going wonky didn’t leave me in the best of moods and I was spoiling for a fight.
“I don’t know,” I said, debating whether I wanted to admit what happened or not. I have no problem confiding in Cillian. Braden is another story. He would tattle on me first chance he got. “There’s just a lot going on.”
“Yes, you’re moving in with Detective Dinglefritz,” Braden said. “That’s a big deal. Are you starting to have second thoughts?”
“No … and don’t call him that.” Griffin took a brief break after we hooked up the first time – leaving me with a broken heart and my brothers with a buttload of pent-up anger – so they’d taken to calling Griffin “Detective Dinglefritz” in his absence. He wasn’t gone long and he hadn’t considered leaving since, but they liked to mess with him when the opportunity arose.
“Are you excited about moving in with him?” Cillian asked. He was my calmest brother and he actually listened when I talked about my feelings. My other brothers were hit or miss on that front. Braden was almost always a miss.
“I am excited,” I confirmed. “It’s a big change and I’m going to really miss Jerry, but it’s best for all of us. Griffin needs a little room to breathe … and spend time by himself. Aidan and I don’t do well when we spend too much time together because we poke at one another. That puts Jerry in the awkward po
sition of picking sides.”
“And unfortunately for Aidan, Jerry always takes your side,” Braden said, his expression thoughtful when he finally took the time to really look at me. “You’re kind of pale. Are you sick?”
I was fairly certain that was the closest he would get to being a caring brother for the evening. “I’m not sick. At least, I don’t think I’m sick. I’m just kind of tired. Griffin took me out to a fancy dinner last night and I ate enough crab to cause my pants to put up a protest.”
Cillian chuckled. “You’ve always been such a dainty girl,” he said. “Something else is bothering you, though. I can tell.”
“Do you really care?”
“Of course I care,” Cillian said. “You’re my only sister and your life is full of change right now. If you want to talk … .”
“I don’t care,” Braden offered. “I don’t want to hear your chick stuff. It ranks right up there with having to hear about tampons and eyeliner.”
I took the opportunity to kick the back of his knee as he slid by, causing him to careen into the table.
“Oomph.” Braden cast a dark look in my direction as he rubbed his hip. “That’s cheating. You’re wearing shoes.”
He had a point. “Fine.” I kicked off my shoes and shoved them under the table before flexing my fingers. “We’ll play one quick game. Whoever gets shoved into the wall three times first loses … and no ganging up on me just to make sure you win. I’m not in the mood.”
Cillian grinned. “We did that once.”
“And I was black and blue for a week,” I said. “Are you ready?”
My brothers narrowed their eyes and nodded. There’s an unhealthy level of competition in the Grimlock family. None of us like to lose and we’re all unbearable to be around when we win.
“Okay,” I said. “We’ll go in ten seconds. Oh, and if Dad catches us, I’m totally blaming Braden for this.”
“You always do,” Braden said. “Bring it on.”
Grim Expectations (Aisling Grimlock Book 5) Page 5