Page 8 of Guarded By the Reaper

Grim stood up. I followed suit and picked up the bottle of wine and my glass. I didn’t bother with coasters or anything. Coasters felt like something my mother would’ve insisted on, and mymother was long gone. It felt strange to use them now. Like I was pretending to be someone I no longer was.

The living room was large, with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the lake. Usually, it was filled with light, but tonight, with all the curtains drawn, it felt small and oppressive. A single lamp cast a pool of warm light in the center of the room, illuminating the dust motes that danced in the air.

Grim didn’t seem to notice the gloominess of the place. He moved with a strange grace, his skeletal form seeming to glide rather than walk. It was eerie and mesmerizing at the same time. He sat down on one of the plush sofas, his movements suddenly stiff and awkward, like he felt out of place, his scythe always by his side. I chose the armchair facing him.

“Tell me,” he said. “How is it that a human like you knows about such a creature? Ma-Vasha, I mean. Her kind prefers to operate in the shadows.”

Operate in the shadows. Nice choice of words, I thought. I told him about Dr. Wallace. How after Elysia’s last appointment, when I’d received the news that they’d exhausted all possible treatments, Dr. Wallace pulled me aside, his face pale and drawn beneath the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital corridor.

“He said he knew a way. A way to save her.”

“And you didn’t question his motives?” Grim asked, his voice devoid of judgment. “Didn’t think to ask how a simple doctor knew of such things?”

“I didn’t care! He could’ve offered me a deal with the devil himself, and I would’ve taken it. Because Elysia… she’s…” My voice broke and I couldn’t go on.

“She is your everything.” Grim finished for me.

I nodded, tears pricking my eyes. I quickly blinked them back. I refused to cry in front of him.

“It seems clear to me now that this Dr. Wallace is one of Ma-Vasha’s acolytes,” he said. “They procure sustenance for her. In exchange, she grants them favors.”

“He told me how to summon her,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “I did it late that night. In the sunroom.”

The sunroom. I hadn’t set foot in there since then, locked it up and tried to not even think about it. The memory of it, the oppressive heat, the scent of decaying flowers, that creature’s presence… It was too vivid, too raw.

I could still hear her voice, a raspy whisper that seemed to slither through the air.

“A life for a life,”she’d hissed.“A soul for a soul.”Her words, laden with ancient power, had echoed through the silence.“Do we have a deal, Camellia Aster?”

“We do,”I’d breathed, my voice trembling. I would’ve given her anything, sacrificed everything, for even the slightest chance to save my sister.

“Good,”Ma-Vasha hissed, extending a hand that seemed to shimmer with a power not of this world. In her palm lay a vial filled with a viscous liquid.“This poison will ensure our arrangement is upheld.”Even now, I could feel the imprint of her touch on my skin, a searing coldness that lingered long after she’d vanished.

“The sunroom…” Grim’s voice, low and thoughtful, broke through my memories. “That’s where you negotiated with her?” It wasn’t really a question. More of a statement.

“Yes,” I whispered, burying my face in my hands. “And now… now I’m trapped. Just like everyone else who dared to bargain with that creature.”

Silence descended upon the room. But this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was companionable, strangely enough.

“What about Elysia? Does she know?”

My head shot up. “No!” My voice came out sharp with alarm. “She can’t! She doesn’t know!”

“I see,” Grim said, nodding slowly. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “Your secret is safe with me.”

I didn’t know why I trusted him, but I did. And so, I told him everything. About the deal, about the poison Ma-Vasha had given me, about the fear that gnawed at me every waking moment. When I was done, I felt drained, empty. Like I’d just poured out the last of my soul along with all those words.

Grim listened patiently, his skeletal face unreadable in the dim light. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t judge, which was, if I thought about it, incredibly bizarre. But his silence was comforting.

In the end, I was the one to break it. “Now you know.”

He nodded.

“If this arrangement of ours is going to work,” Grim said, his voice taking on a business-like tone, “We need rules. Three to be exact.”

Rules. Of course. What was I expecting, really? To just have him hang out and keep those weird creatures of clay and straw from killing me? This was a Grim Reaper, after all. Not some friendly neighborhood watch volunteer.

“Okay,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “What are your rules?”

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