Page 91 of Grim
“Noted,” I mumble, still staring at my phone.
“Second, what?”
“I just received an event reminder.”
“Reapers have a Calendar app?”
“No, this was a personal message from Sleep’s brother himself. Death.”
“Oh. What did he say?”
“We have to go somewhere,” I say, voice lower now.
“We?” Rue queries suspiciously. “You mean I’m actually invited somewhere?”
“Not willingly, Mayday, I assure you,” I grunt. “It’s a formal event.”
Her brows shoot up. “Formal?”
I nod. “OtherWorld masquerade. Hosted by Big D.”
“Are you telling me that Death throws … parties?”
I glance sideways, already regretting this conversation. “Big D’s Devilishly Deviant Dress-Up Dance.”
“That sounds like the world’s worst prom theme.”
“You’re not that far off.”
“So, skip it. Call in sick or whatever.”
“You really don’t have a sense of the hierarchies in place, do you?” I bite out.
“You could have just said it was mandatory. You don’t have to be a dick about it.”
“I’m not trying to be a dick. I’m trying to teach you how things will be for you in the eternal hereafter. And now, on top of that, we have to get you a dress.”
A slow, devious smile spreads across her face. “Oh! No worries on that. If it’s a ball, I have a dress.”
“You what?”
“I have a dress.”
ButNottheShoes
“You have a dress?” Kane parrots, turning our conversation into a low-rent Abbott and Costello routine.
I try to jump off the carousel before he starts asking me,Who’s on first?
I blink at him. “Yes, Kane, believe it or not, I do own a dress.”
“Right,” he says, narrowing his eyes. “A dress that would suit a ball in the OtherWorld? Or anywhere for that matter.” He mutters the last part, but I hear it. “And where is this dress?”
“It’s in the attic,” I say, not quite meeting Kane’s eyes as I gesture upward. “You know, that room three floors up from here, with the creaky stairs, cobwebs, and window leading to the roof.” I toy with the hem of the shirt I’m wearing, suddenly feeling too small inside my own skin.
“I know what an attic is, Rue. I’ve been inside a multilevel home before.” His lips twitch as he stares down at me. “And I’m very aware of where your attic leads. Believe me, it’s not something I’ll soon forget.”
“Oh,” I answer meekly, not sure exactly what to make of his response.
