Page 42 of Guarded By the Reaper

He took the bottle, his bony fingers careful as he examined it. “Where did you get this?”

I shifted my weight, suddenly feeling foolish for not mentioning it sooner. “A woman gave it to me yesterday. She said it was important.”

Grim uncorked the bottle and pulled out the slip of paper. His eye sockets seemed to darken even more as he read aloud, “When richest fur meets fated breath, you’ll find your end in silent death.”

I frowned, wrapping my arms around myself. “What does it mean?”

“I have no idea.” He turned the bottle over in his hands, as if searching for hidden clues. “But I can tell you this: the woman who gave it to you is one of the Fates.”

My eyes widened. “The Fates?”

“Yes. They only write prophecies for those who’ve pissed them off. Prophecies are always bad news.”

I let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I kind of got that from the ‘silent death’ part.” I paused, a thought occurring to me. “But isn’t it good that Ma-Vasha can be killed?”

Grim tilted his head, considering. The gesture was so human it momentarily threw me off.

“Yes and no,” he said. “It’s great that she can be killed, but she can only be killed in the way the prophecy says. If we don’t know what it means...”

“It doesn’t help us,” I finished, deflating. “Great. A cryptic message we can’t decipher or use.”

I leaned against the wall of the hospital, feeling exhausted. I closed my eyes, wishing I could wake up and find this had all been a bizarre dream. When I opened them again, Grim was watching me intently. Despite the empty sockets where his eyes should’ve been, I could feel the weight of his gaze.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said softly, moving closer. “We have time. Lady Mews still needs to heal, remember?”

I nodded. Grim reached out and gently touched my arm. The contact sent a shiver through me, hot and delicious.

“One step at a time, Millie,” he said. “Right now, let’s focus on getting you and Elysia home safely. We can worry about decoding cryptic messages later.”

I took a deep breath, centering myself. He was right, of course. There was no point in getting ahead of ourselves. I straightened up, squaring my shoulders.

“You’re right. Thank you for keeping me sane.”

The door swung open behind us, and Elysia rushed out.

“Millie! Millie!” she called. “The vet said Lady Mews can come home in two days!”

My heart swelled at her enthusiasm. Seeing her happy, healthy, and full of life was everything I’d ever wanted.

“That’s wonderful,” I said. “Did she say anything else?”

Elysia nodded, her eyes wide and serious. “She said she healed really fast and isn’t in danger anymore. But we have to take good care of her at home and not let her climb things.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her earnest recitation. She’d always been attentive when it came to Lady Mews, treating the cat’s care like a sacred duty. It was one of the many things that made her so special.

“We’ll make sure to follow those instructions to the letter,” I assured her, giving her a quick hug.

That was when something caught my eye. A flicker of movement around the corner of the building. My breath caught in my throat as I recognized the jerky, unnatural gait of a Poppet. Fear surged through me. I glanced at Grim, seeing the tension in his posture. He’d spotted it, too. We needed to leave. Now.

“Hey, Elysia,” I said, keeping my voice light despite the panic building inside me. “Why don’t we head home and start getting everything ready for Lady Mews? We want her to have the perfect welcome, right?”

Elysia nodded enthusiastically, oblivious to the danger lurking just out of sight. I took her hand, guiding her towards the car with what I hoped was casual haste.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Grim

As I moved from room to room, my mind kept drifting back what had happened at the pet hospital. We were living on borrowed time. This little bubble of normalcy we’d created was fragile, ready to burst at any moment. I paused by a window, peering through a gap in the curtains. The grounds of Asterhaven Estate stretched out before me, still in the fading light. It was beautiful, in a melancholy sort of way. The kind of place where you could almost believe in happy endings.

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