Page 17 of Guarded By the Reaper

She grinned. “Yay!” Then grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the kitchen.

An hour later, the remnants of breakfast were cleared away, Elysia was happily ensconced upstairs with her coloring books, and Grim and I were alone in the silent kitchen.

“You’re lying to her.” Grim stated, his voice flat. He was leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, watching me with those disconcertingly empty sockets.

I turned away from him to busy myself with refilling the coffee maker. “I’m trying to keep her away from the things that are stalking the house.”

“You dismissed the staff because of the Poppets?” he asked.

“Of course.” I met his gaze, surprised by the question. “What do you think? That being waited on hand and foot was more important to me than their safety?”

He shrugged. “Not many people would put their staff’s safety above their own.”

“Maybe not,” I said. “But it’s not their problem to deal with. Besides,” I added, my voice softening, “I kind of like having the place to myself. Just me and Elysia.”

“Right,” he said, that unnerving gaze fixed on me.

I shifted uncomfortably beneath his scrutiny. “Anyway, we need to get going. The appointment at the pet hospital is at noon.”

“We could teleport,” he offered, his voice casual, as if suggesting a stroll in the garden rather than doing something that defied the laws of physics.

I shuddered. “No. No teleporting, please. I’d rather drive. I need to feel something normal for a change. Okay?”

He tilted his head. “If you’re sure…”

“I am. Give me ten minutes. I need to take a quick shower and change.”

He nodded. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

I hurried upstairs, my mind a tangled mess of Poppets, Elysia, Lady Mews, and the impossible feeling that the Grim Reaper and I were developing something akin to friendship. Or more.

God help me. This was madness.

Chapter Nine

Grim

I paced the driveway, the gravel crunching under my boots. Millie’s car was out front. The Bentley sparkled in the morning sun, a symbol of a life I could barely comprehend. A good life. At least it had been before all this.

Out of the corner of my eye socket, I saw the Poppets scurrying back into the shadows, quick and silent as spiders. They were always here, lurking just out of sight, watching, waiting. They didn’t scare me. Not really. Not the way they scared Millie.

I shifted my weight, my bones groaning in protest. Millie had said she only needed ten minutes, but it had been half an hour already. I hated waiting. It gave a reaper too much time to think. And thinking about her was a bad idea.

She’d asked if there’d ever been a woman back when I was human. I’d told her no. Easier that way. The truth was I couldn’t remember. There had been someone, but all I got when I thought about her was a faint voice, a flash of brown hair… but that was it. Not even a name. It felt like a lifetime ago, like watching someone else’s memories flicker across an old projector screen. A lot had happened in the century since I died and became a reaper. I’d forgotten things, forgotten how to feel, what it was like to want something – or someone – so badly that my bones ached.

Millie was bringing it all back – the feeling, the wanting, the aching. It was like a part of me I thought had died with my mortal form was waking up, and it scared the hell out of me.

The front door opened, snapping my thoughts back to the present. Millie stood there, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, sunglasses perched on top of her head. She wore asimple white blouse and a tight pair of jeans that did things to a reaper’s anatomy that shouldn’t have been possible.

“Ready?” she asked.

I nodded, pushing away the thoughts, the memories, the feelings that threatened to overwhelm me. Not now. There would be time for that later. Maybe. If there was a later.

“Let’s go,” I said.

Millie gave me a quick, searching look, like she was trying to figure me out. Good luck with that, sweetheart. I barely understood myself these days.

She turned and headed towards the car. I stayed close, my senses on high alert. Even if the Poppets had retreated into the shadows, I could feel their presence. They wouldn’t give up that easily.

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