Chapter 23 Grim #3
“Listen to me,” said Johann. “My biggest regrets, they all tie back… to her. And I can’t tell you what I’d give to have even one more day with her.
I was so shortsighted. And hopelessly selfish.
I should have realized what I had. By that time, I’d already sold my soul.
Perhaps I wasn’t in the same position as you, but…
Marguerite… Because of what I’d done, she and I were also destined to be parted forever.
Point is… I should have… What I’m trying to say is that you should, while you can…
I don’t know. Consider spending some time with Helena? ”
Was he hearing himself? That was a disastrous idea. Spending time with Helena had so far only turned me into an obsessive, reckless-driving, kidnapping murderer with an insatiable and newly acquired appetite for her immortal soul.
Fuck me. Maybe vampires were misunderstood.
“Johann’s just saying that you should think about taking her out somewhere,” offered Flora. “Somewhere nice. Last I checked, Mr. McDead still had the company card.”
“Hey.” I whirled to aim a finger at her. “Speaking of, you’re on my shit list for that.”
Flora only grinned. “Took you decades to notice.”
“There’s bound to be some nice restaurants in the city where she lives,” mused Johann, which had me whirling on him next.
Was this really happening? Were they both seriously trying to talk me into taking Helena out? As in… on a date?
“Did you two half-wits forget none of us are supposed to involve ourselves in the lives of the living?” I railed at them.
“At this point,” said Johann with a wave of one gnarled hand, “I’d say it’s in for a penny, in for a pound.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It means we’re not going to tell anyone if you had some designs to go against the grain and live a little.” Flora folded her arms with a satisfied smirk.
“Make the date while fate is late,” chanted Pluto.
“She doesn’t like me like that!” I snapped at the three of them.
And why would she? I was a fucking dead-ass skeleton.
More or less.
“Personally,” said Flora, shifting her weight to one foot, “I think it’s her skeleton in the closet that she does.”
“She did mention being impressed by your powers,” said Johann.
“ ‘Smoke skills,’ she called them,” said Flora.
“Grim and Helena, sitting in some trees,” sang Pluto, “trying to figure out the birds and the bees.”
I flicked off the raven. “Keep talking, beak brain. This place needs a new feather duster.”
The bird puffed. “Grim’s just mad ’cause he’s got it bad.”
Damn. Bird.
“The three of you are full of shit,” I mumbled, turning back to the Basins.
“Just… think about it,” said Johann. “I personally don’t see the harm. And that’s coming from me. Someone who understands the ramifications of breaking the rules, perhaps, better than anyone.”
“Like you said before,” I muttered, unhooking the hourglass from my belt. “We all broke the rules in some capacity. That’s why we’re here. The idea is not to break them again. Mostly because none of us can afford to.”
“You didn’t break any rules, Grim,” said Johann, his voice uncharacteristically gentle—and his words had me pausing before tipping the White Basin’s souls into the vat. “Well, at least not until recently. Until you met Fr?ulein Hart.”
“How do you know?” I barked.
I hadn’t told him what happened to me. Even if I didn’t remember what I did, I would remember telling him. The events of my human life were what remained at the outskirts of my memory, not those I had experienced in my current form.
“I know,” Johann assured me. “At least now I do. But… we can worry about that later. For now, we have a librarian to help, and some tracks to cover.”
“They’re my tracks to cover.” I shifted next to the Blue Basin.
“They were,” Johann conceded. “But Flora and I, we’ve thrown our hats into your ring. And, thanks to Flora, I at least have plenty more to throw besides.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“And we knew you wouldn’t,” said Johann. “Which is precisely why… we did.”
Silently, I finished delivering souls to the remaining Basins, grateful I didn’t have one for the Black again.
“I’m not agreeing to this,” I said, retracing my steps to snatch up my scythe.
“Is it really up to you?” asked Flora, her voice soft, the question tender and probing when I would have preferred her anger.
“It’s always up to me.” I swung away, an invisible force tearing at the tight bulb of my soul, claws ripping up tendrils, shredding the core of me—because that was a lie, and we all knew it.
“Grim,” called Flora, but I didn’t pause or turn back. I just kept marching for my statue and the entrance to my quarters, a place I normally found much-needed respite and solitude.
Neither of those things would greet me there this night. The trade-off was that Helena would.
“Grim,” said Flora again.
I halted next to the stairs, glaring back at her. She was trying to do me a favor—she had done me a favor. Helena, too. Like Johann, she didn’t deserve my anger.
“What?” I growled at her all the same.
“For what it’s worth,” she said, “I’m… really sorry.”
To this, I didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. Not when she’d seen through me—and Johann had, too.
They both understood what I hadn’t fully until now. That it was too late.
That officially… Helena was someone I fucking cared about.