Chapter 24 Helena
“That painting,” I said when Grim emerged from the doorway to the left of the desk and the picture in question, which I pointed to. “It changed. Twice.”
“What?” he asked with his dark voice, which still scared me a little—but not totally in a bad way. Maybe, possibly, even in a good way. But I wasn’t going to go there because I was not supposed to have a thing for death.
He was a very busy shadow-skeleton man, and meeting his family had made the importance and sanctity of his role here all the clearer.
“Earlier,” I said, “that painting showed moonlit waters in the middle of an ocean—no land in sight. Just a moment ago, before you came down, it showed the big room upstairs with the magical cauldron thingies. Now it shows this room. Look.”
He hesitated, then he drifted forward, his fuming form coming to stand next to me, though he left ample room between us.
“This is how it always looks,” he said.
“It showed moonlit waters before,” I insisted. “You believe me… don’t you?”
He tilted his head at the painting. “You said an ocean?”
“Yeah,” I said. “With a huge full silver moon.”
“These quarters,” he said after a beat, “are… linked to my essence. In addition to taking the form I prefer, it seems they also have the capacity to display my whereabouts. Something I never knew… until now.”
“Omigosh,” I said with a smile, my heart leaping since I’d been the one to make the discovery, and because talk about cool.
“This is too neat! And it makes sense. You only see this version of the painting because that’s all you can see since the painting always reflects wherever you are.
Which means you were near an ocean before? ”
“In it,” he said.
“In it?” I piped. “Why would you be…”
I trailed off before uttering a small “Oh.” Because, for an instant, I’d forgotten what he did. What he was. Who he was…
Flustered, I shook my head to sweep away the giant elephant in the room that was my certain death and turned toward him, seizing him by one bony arm.
“Go into another room,” I said, shoving him lightly in the direction he’d entered from. “This is Disney World Haunted Mansion–level epic. I-I just want to see something.”
He actually went, to my surprise.
“Go try your music room,” I said, pointing down the hall before skipping back to the painting to see if it had changed already. It hadn’t.
“You were in my music room?” he asked, and my heart clutched.
“Um,” I said through a cringe-smile. “Nice Metallica collection?”
He didn’t reply, but swept out of sight, down the hall, and I squealed when the painting changed before my eyes, melding to show the corridor instead of this same room. A beat later, the painting changed again, becoming Grim’s music room. There were all his guitars, including the purple one.
“It shows where you are!” I called after him. Then, excited, I went in search of him, swinging around the corner and then another until I returned to his side. “I can’t believe you never knew this whole time that the painting showed where you are. How come no one ever told you?”
He didn’t answer. But in the silence, Flora’s response from earlier returned to tickle my brain. How she’d said something about Grim never having anyone over.
Was it possible I was his first… houseguest?
“I should have brought you a plant or something,” I blurted out.
“What?” he barked.
I shook my head, because of course there’d been no way for him to follow that train of thought.
“I mean, since you never have company. I should have brought you a houseplant or some other housewarming gift since you’ve probably… never had one. But you don’t have any windows, so a houseplant wouldn’t be the best.”
“I outright abducted you, and you’re brainstorming housewarming gifts?”
I scoffed a laugh and waved him off. “You didn’t abduct me.
You just… borrowed me. Like a library book.
But don’t ask me where my RFID tag is, I’m not telling.
” I laughed. “And come on, you totally need a little gift. Do you drink wine?” My hands went to my lips.
“I’m sorry. Maybe that’s an offensive question.
I… should think before I speak, but then… why start now, right?”
I laughed again, nervously this time.
“Why do you do that?” he asked.
“Sorry,” I said quickly. “I won’t do it anymore. But… what do you mean?”
“You just did it again,” he observed.
“Oops. Um… did what?”
“You… stop yourself,” he said. “And then you apologize for it.”
“I’m…” I stalled, subduing the urge to apologize again. “I guess it’s just… habit.”
“Picked up from where?”
“Oh,” I said with a shrug, “I don’t know. Life, I guess. But then, that might be one less thing I’ll be worrying about soon.”
“Don’t talk like that.” The command in his voice had me snapping my jaw shut.
Silence surrounded us and, with each passing second, swelled big and loud.
“It bothers you when I joke about it,” I said, “but considering it’s you… I don’t know why.”
“Are you ready to go home?” he asked.
Home. Life.
Given that tomorrow was Saturday (I’d asked Johann what day it was) and I had to work, I’d better get back to the literal land of the living.
“Ready,” I echoed. “I’m not sure that’s the word I’d use.”
More silence. And then he broke it.
“Because you know what’s coming.”
“Because I don’t know what’s coming,” I said, turning to face him. “And if you want to get technical about it, neither, really… do you.”
“We both know what’s coming,” he corrected.
“Who knows?” I put my hands on my hips. “Maybe we don’t.
Maybe fate got fed up with trying to find me and moved on.
Maybe we’re fretting about a storm that’s already passed.
Maybe I’m going to be okay after all, and I’ll live until I’m a hundred and eight.
Like I tell my patrons all the time. Anything is possible. ”
“I have to loosen your soul again to take you out of here,” he said. “Here as in… the Netherworld.”
“Is that what you did before?”
“I can’t move your physical form through a portal unless I have your soul in hand. I would have asked permission before,” he said, “but there was no time.”
“It’s fine,” I told him. “I… trust you.”
He shifted next to me, as if my words made him uncomfortable. But his disquietude didn’t make my statements any less true.
“You have things to do,” I said, “don’t you? I understand. I do, too. Affairs to put in order and business to finish up. I work in the morning… though I guess I’m not sure yet how I’ll get there. My car…”
Fiddling with my fingernails, I trailed off, because he’d been there. He knew.
“You’re still going to go to work?” he asked.
I frowned and fidgeted with one jack-o’-lantern earring. Because I could see his point. Why go back to work when I wasn’t going to need the money? Except, depending on how long it took for my projected fate to arrive, I low-key was going to need to keep the lights on.
Sure, I could max out my credit cards checking off items on my bucket list, but then… what if I really did have hope I might somehow be in the clear? Or that I still could be?
“My work comforts me,” I said, which wasn’t a lie. “Being busy will take my mind off things until I decide if I want to do something different. Until… I see you again. Because I probably won’t see you again until it’s time. Right?”
He didn’t answer. Which was answer enough. He was the Grim Reaper, and now that there was a plan for me in place, he had bigger fish to fry than babysitting a children’s librarian.
“I retrieved your phone,” he said at last. “From outside the library.”
My eyes bugged. “Y-you did?”
“It’s… damaged.”
“But it works?”
“Your mom has been texting you.”
Mom. I sighed inwardly.
“And someone named Peter.”
I scoffed. “What does he want?”
Grim turned that shadowed gaze down on me. “I didn’t read your texts. I just saw the names. Is Peter your boss?”
“Ha!”
He tilted his head at me.
I coughed and lowered my voice. “I mean no. Peter is a tool. But you don’t need to know about all of that. I have to ask, though. Since… you’re taking me home, does that mean you’re agreeing to the plan?”
For a long time, he didn’t say anything.
But then, at last, he spoke.
“Can you drive a stick shift?”