Page 36 of Grim
The sound of glass breaking shatters the silence, which, given my current state of existential dread, is less than ideal. I smirk as an idea hits me. I eye the man hovering over me with a predatory gleam.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re a reaper, right? A soul collector.”
“A bit more like a soul transporter, but yes. That’s my AfterLife Assignment.”
“Dude,” I say, watching as Kane finishes untying my legs, “get my ghost out of here.”
Kane lets out an exasperated sigh, tossing the rope aside like he’s doing me some massive favor. “First of all,” he starts, straightening his suit jacket, “my name is Kane. I didn’t survive the height of the second plague just to have a skinny little waif call me dude. If you’re looking for pet names, however, Iamopen to sir, sire, or perhaps even Kane the—”
“My legs are free now, and I am exactly three seconds from kicking you in the face,” I interrupt, voice flat.
“Second,” he continues, ignoring me entirely. “I don’t reap the lost souls. Can’t be done.”
“And here I thought, I’d finally found a good use for you.” My tone drips with disappointment.
“I’m afraid this soulalready made its choice. Something compelling draws that spirit to this place. Which is why it lingers.”
“This one lingers quite loudly,” I complain as Kane moves to untie my wrists.
For the briefest moment, our hands touch. His grip tightens, and he inhales sharply, fingers flexing before he snaps back, shaking his hand like I burned him.
“Yes, well,” he says quickly, clearly unnerved, “I imagine you’d make a bit of noise if your eternal essence was tethered to a place it feels fused to, but you remain impotent to affect any change.”
“Am I going to need to keep a thesaurus on hand with you around?”
“You seem to have a robust library as it is. I apologize if my vocabulary threatens you,” he snidely retorts.
“Not threatened, just annoyed …dude.” I pause before continuing, “Can’t you just coax it along? Bribe it?”
“Not after the initial crossover window closes. Icanforce a soul through at that time, but my strong preference is not to. It’s messy. It’s in a soul’s best interest to cross over, of course, as there is nothing they can actuallydoover here after the corporeal form fails, but ultimately, some feel tethered too tightly. Once the choice is made, the reapers have to move on. Caseloads being what they are, we simply cannot tarry on one spirit for too long. So, that soul remains tied to where their mortal life ended.”
“That’s terrible,” I whisper while rubbing the tender spots on my wrists.
“They made their choice, Mayday. Just as you will. The last mortal moment for all.”
“That’s pretty grim.” I stand, staring at him in astonishment.
“C’est la vie, ma chère. Or I suppose, in this case, it’s a bit more,C’est la mort.”
“Do you have any compassion? Are all the reapers like you?”
“You mean articulate, good-looking, amusing, and impeccably dressed?” He smirks as we head out of my bedroom.
“I mean overly confident know-it-alls with a superiority complex and an inflated sense of self-worth.”
Kane stops mid-step. Turns. Andslowlylooks me up and down. I feel my skin prickle under his gaze.
“That was cute,” he purrs. “But are yousureyou want that to be your response?”
I’m about to respond when I hear more banging in the kitchen.
“Ugh,” I growl while storming in there. “I’m not spending the final days of my life listening to this jerk breaking all my family’s things. Get it ou—” I stop as a squeak leaves me.
There is a child; he can’t be more than ten. He’s filthy and crouched on my countertop with a bowl held over his head.
I try to make words, but nothing comes out. The boy looks from me to Kane and back again. We’re all silent, no one moving for what feels like forever, before the boy slams my bowl to the floor, causing it to shatter.
