Welcome to Tales from the GrimVerse: Grim & Bare It – Killion’s POV, an urban fantasy novel I’m republishing with scenes from the original story but told from the Master Vampire’s point of view.
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Chloe awoke to the sound of the cat coughing up a hairball.
Sitting up she gasped in a lungful of air and blinked at the collection of cut flower arrangements surrounding us.
The cat gagged again and flowing dark material tangled around Chloe’s ankles when she tried to gain her feet to find Miss Pickles, her thoughts scrambling as swiftly as her flailing arms and legs. There is absolutely nothing like a pet vomiting to bring you out of a nearly-dead state and back to full consciousness before you can even open your eyes.
Her belongings sat lined up in a neat row on the bottom shelf of a wooden counter, where I sat. The compact scythe was propped near a stool.
“Sit down,” I ordered.
Outside the building, the crackle of a police radio made her tense. A strobing blue light rhythmically swept through the shop. She glanced around wildly, taking in the flowers and the large front display window. “Did you break in here?”
“Lower your voice,” I said, giving her what I hoped was a calming look. “They’ll depart in a minute.”
“But I have to tell them—eep!”
I had no choice but to return her to her seat. Her panic would get us both in trouble. “Tell them what exactly?” I held her gaze, willing her to settle. “That you killed a grim reaper? What will you say when they ask about the body?”
“I’ll tell them…” She stopped, memories assaulting her. Her mind seized on what it could make sense of. “I… Was that… I mean, that man—was he a serial killer?”
I sensed the officers stalking the alley. I gestured for her to be quiet. When it appeared she might not, I lowered my response to a whisper. “He was a rogue grim, and a vampire to boot. No scruples. You did me a favor, however prodigious your actions. I need a moment to figure out our next move.”
Our next move? Vampire? Her fear and anxiety skyrocketed. She started to rise. “I’m going home and getting some sleep. When I wake up, this will be a bad dream, nothing more. This is a hallucination brought on by sleep deprivation and a bad combo of natural”—she made air quotes—“supplements.”
Again, I found it necessary to take charge, using my magic to jerk her down. She sucked in a breath, the already intoxicating scent of her blood assailing me once again. He’s doing this, she thought. That’s why Darcy had avoided falling into his table. But how?
I gritted my teeth, both because of that delectable smell of hers, as well as my irritation over her anxiety. Peering at her, I once more attempted to use my magic to compel her. Soothe her. “You exterminated a grim, something I’ve never encountered with a mundane. The rules are absolute; you must wear the robes for a year. At that time, you may choose to turn them in or continue your service to Soul Management Group.”
“The what-what?”
Miss Pickles appeared, wrapping her feline body around the corner of the counter and gliding over to me. She was unharmed and Chloe breathed a sigh of relief.
I scratched under the feline’s chin and she purred. Perhaps that would pacify her fears. An animal’s acceptance is better than any other validation that one does intend harm.
No such luck. My compulsion magic was null for some reason. “That man out there”—she hitched a thumb toward the alley—“was a killer, I’ll give you that, but he was dressed as a reaper because that’s his MO. Don’t you watch the news? It’s nearly Halloween and he could blend in with all the parade folks on King Street.”
I started to reply, but checked myself, angling my head to better catch the sound of something outside. Chloe mimicked him, but her human hearing wasn’t equal to mine.
Then it came. She was so keyed up, she jumped when one of the officers jiggled the door handle. I felt her yelp before she issued it, her eyes swinging to mine. I waved a hand, creating a breeze on her face, my magic holding her down, restraining any sound.
It was impossible not to eavesdrop on her thoughts. They ran in wild spirals. Reapers, vampires, invisible hands… Maybe my therapist is right, I’m subconsciously holding onto things I needed to get rid of. If I don’t, I’m headed to the looney bin. She swore then, now more terrified of me than the police.
The officer moved on and I snuffed out the restriction around her throat. She coughed and judged how fast she could grab the scythe.
As if she could reach it before I did. Humans.
I pressed a finger to my lips and we listened as the cop called to his partner, telling him they were wasting their time. A moment later, the blue light shut off and we heard the cruiser leave.
Absolute silence fell in the shop, except for the cat’s purring. Chloe shook with cold and fear. She desperately wanted to get away from me. She errantly believed all of this would make sense in the light of morning. “I’ll ask you again, who are you? What are you?”
“I am the one who saved your life.”
She was grateful for that. Grateful the cat was okay, too. But she vibrated with anxiety. Her fight or flight instincts were in high gear, flight winning hands down.
I couldn’t have that. Easing forward, I locked eyes with her. This has to work. “You are safe. Take a deep breath through the nose and let it out through your mouth.”
She laughed, a strangled sound. “Please tell me you don’t have any diseases.”
“Mundanes.” I shook my head. “The things you worry about.”
I sensed her checking in with her legs. Still planning on running. “You put blood in my mouth. I can’t tell you how disgusting that is. You’re a total stranger, and a weird-as-all-get-out one at that. Even in my wildest days, I didn’t let a boy kiss me until I knew his name.”
Wish I knew why my compulsion didn’t work on her. It made things so much easier. “In order to save your life, I shared blood with you, and if it makes you feel better, my name is Killion.”
The name reverberated through her like I’d struck a bass drum in her chest. Interesting. My magic scanned her for the hundredth time, trying to ascertain what she was. She presented as human, so why would my name affect her so?
A pregnant pause fell between us. I waited, patient. She struggled not to fidget. “I may not be a doctor, but last I checked, blood is not a miracle cure.”
What could I tell her when she was so on edge? I had to couch the truth in order to reassure and not send her screaming into the night. I was a thing of horror movies. Of nightmares. “I am immune to human illness and disease.”
She shook her head, pinched her eyes shut, and swallowed. Her throat was tight and I couldn’t resist watching the muscles there working. I brought my attention back to her face a second before she opened her eyes again. “Okay, then.” She rose, peeled off the robe, and let it puddle at her feet. The scythe trembled in its spot. Ignoring it and me, she pointed at the cat, who had climbed into my lap. “It’s been fun and all, but it’s time for me to get Miss Pickles home.”
“While I present no threat to you, Gustafson’s group does.”
She hesitated. “Who’s Gustafson?”
“The rogue grim you terminated. His followers will attempt to avenge his death, and while most are non-magical, they use blood to power spells. Because of your reaper status combined with my blood, you’ll be harder to kill, but you’re not immortal.”
Again, her throat worked and it was everything I could do not to dream of sinking my fangs into it. Hands trembling, she scooped up her belongings, including the cat, facing down her fear of me to do so. She took a step back, putting distance between us. “You need help. This delusion of yours is out of control.” The weapon fell over and slid on its own accord toward her. She jumped away. “Stop that. Whatever you’re doing, just stop it.”
My gaze was fixed, and while I kept my expression stony, my amusement was hard to suppress. “After all you’ve witnessed, it seems you’re the delusional one. A certain period of denial is to be expected after a near-death experience, but you cannot escape the repercussions. The robes chose you, Chloe. You are now a grim reaper, whether you like it or not.”
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Next up, Episode 4 – the first assignment and a moral dilemma