aisling grimlock 03 - grim discovery (7 page)

I wasn’t going to leave the property, so it didn’t matter. That was the excuse going through my mind as I wandered toward the door. I only wanted to see what the man was doing. There was something about him that was … off.

I stood in front of the glass door for a full minute, scanning the parking lot for a glimpse of movement before finally pushing it open. I took a tentative step outside, making sure to scan the shadows on both sides. I’d been jumped in a parking lot before. It was never fun.

I looked and listened, hoping for a hint of movement or even the sound of footsteps on the pavement to tell me he was hiding. For some reason, I could feel that he was still close.

I took a few more steps into the parking lot, marveling at how quiet it was despite the early hour and popularity of the establishment. I finally decided it was a lost cause and abandoned my search, turning back toward the door.

It was too late to go back inside when I realized I wasn’t alone. Well … crap!

Six

Even though I was looking for him, the stranger found me instead – and he wasn’t alone. A large wraith accompanied him. They moved out from behind a van, attempting to cut me off from the restaurant door, and I internally kicked myself for not looking closer during my initial inspection.

The wraith hissed, white fingers clenching and unclenching as the duo drifted closer.

“You’re going to want to stop right there,” I suggested. “I am in no mood for crap from the likes of you.”

“Aisling Grimlock.” The wraith’s words were barely a whisper on the wind. I hate it when wraiths talk. I didn’t even know they could do it before they started chanting my name at every encounter. It’s morphed from interesting to annoying and creepy. They suck the souls from the living to prolong their own half-lives. I don’t want to hear them talk about it.

“I’m well aware of my name, chalkboard,” I shot back. “Hey, that’s kind of funny. With the black robe and the white face and the lack of any definition, you really do look like a chalkboard … or an incredibly evil mime. I’m getting good at this.”

“Are you done talking to yourself?” The stranger finally spoke, his voice low and menacing, but without vitality. He was human – I was sure of that – but there was something else bubbling beneath the surface.

“Why are you two lurking in the parking lot instead of throwing down shots inside?” I asked, playing for time as I decided what to do. “It seems to me you would be the life of the party if you weren’t so … pasty and gross.”

I wasn’t particularly worried about them grabbing me – or killing me, for that matter. Screaming was an option if they moved too close and then they would have no choice but to scatter. They couldn’t risk discovery in such a public place. That probably meant they were here strictly to spy – or talk. I wasn’t thrilled with either option.

“Don’t you know?” the man asked.

“Last time I checked, I wasn’t psychic,” I said. “I am a gifted conversationalist, though. What do you think about the state of the Detroit government these days?”

I have no idea why I choose to poke monsters when they’re clearly dangerous. It’s part of my personality that even I don’t like, but I just can’t seem to stop myself. The stranger and wraith seemed to outright hate it.

“I think you should come with us,” the man said.

“Aisling Grimlock,” the wraith hissed. He sounded as though he had a lisp. He kept exaggerating the “s” in my name.

“That’s thounds thuper,” I said, mimicking the wraith’s lisp. “I’m actually busy, though.”

“It wasn’t a request,” the stranger snapped.

“And yet I’m still not going anywhere with you,” I shot back. “Unless … do you know where my mother is?”

I had no idea why I asked the question. Part of me thought it was stupid to tip my hand about what we knew. Since none of the wraiths at the mausoleum the day of the fire survived, no one knew Fontaine let the evil cat out of the bag before expiring. It might not have been a wise move on my part.

The stranger shifted, his dark eyes narrowing as he regarded me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Why didn’t I believe him? “If you’re not here because of my mother, why are you here?” I asked, changing tactics.

“Someone wants to see you.”

“Is it my mother?”

“I don’t understand why you keep bringing up your mother,” the stranger said.

“I’m guessing you get confused a lot,” I said, rolling my neck until it cracked. I was getting antsy. They were cutting me off from the sports bar door. Griffin would realize I was gone, probably sooner rather than later, and he would pitch an unholy fit when I told him why I walked outside. “Listen, I don’t have the energy or time to play games with you two. You need to move out of my way.”

I made small shooing motions with my hands, which caused the human to scowl and the wraith to drift closer.

“Aisling Grimlock must come.”

“You need to stop talking,” I ordered, extending a warning finger in the wraith’s direction. “It creeps me out when you guys do that. Just … shut it.”

“You’re pretty full of yourself,” the stranger said. “I was told your whole family’s that way. That doesn’t matter now. You need to come with us.”

Something occurred to me. “Did you follow us here? Are you some sort of creepy stalker? Do you know there’s a whole table of cops in there who would love to take down a creepy stalker? Heck, one of them is considering a run for city council and that would be a great way to announce his run.”

“I’m not a stalker!”

“You look like a stalker.”

“Well, I’m not.” The man shifted from one foot to the other, agitation practically rolling off of him.

“If you’re not a stalker, how did you find me?”

“We can smell you,” the wraith said, drawing out the “s” to torturous lengths.

I knit my eyebrows together, offended. “Are you saying I smell?”

The man smirked at my outrage. “Reapers reek. See, now I’m making the jokes.”

I rolled my eyes. “You need to work on your timing,” I replied. “That whole … dead delivery thing you’re doing is neither amusing nor engaging. With that in mind … move or I’ll make you wish you’d never approached me.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” the man scoffed.

“You should be,” I countered. “Didn’t you hear what I did to Sylvia Dobbs and Duke Fontaine?”

It was a pointed question, and the stranger was uncomfortable enough to take an involuntary step backward. “I don’t know who they are.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” I said. “I’m sure word has gotten around about the fire at the mausoleum. If you’re keeping score, my whole team walked away from that. I incinerated your whole team. The wraiths were screaming as they caught fire.” I had no idea why I included that last bit. My father would say I was getting “too big for my britches.” Personally, I think I just wanted to scare them.

“Your business with other … factions … is not why we’re here,” the man said, opting to put on a brave face as he intently studied me. I was starting to get the feeling that the demise of Fontaine and Sylvia were public knowledge, but the specifics of that takedown were still mired in secrecy.

“You’re an idiot,” I muttered. “Listen, I’m not going anywhere with you. We both know you can’t make me. If you take a step toward me I’ll scream and everyone will come running. I can’t figure out why you were dumb enough to approach me in a public parking lot unless … oh, you guys were hoping I’d be drunk when I left so you could jump me. That’s it, isn’t it?”

“I’m done playing games with you,” the stranger snapped. “You either come with us or … .”

I cut him off. “Or what? What are you going to do to me? Are you going to bore me to death with your monotonous joke delivery? You’re like a thug in a bad soap opera, for crying out loud. Tell me what you’re going to do with me and I’ll decide whether I want to start quaking in my boots or just laugh at you.”

“We’ll take you.”

“That’s not going to happen.” Griffin stepped out of the shadows by the door, taking me by surprise. He had a silver knife in his hand – one I recognized from my father’s personal collection – and he slammed it into the back of the wraith before either of my new “friends” registered his presence.

The wraith stiffened, his head listing backward and a silent scream on his lips as his body disintegrated into ash. Griffin barely blinked before turning his attention on the human. “We’re not going to have an easy time hiding your body, but I’m up for trying,” he warned.

The man stumbled away from Griffin, terrified by his unexpected appearance and the easy takedown of his cohort. “I … .”

“I can’t kill you here without drawing a crowd.” Griffin was deathly serious. “That doesn’t mean I won’t do it. You go back to whoever sent you – I don’t care who it is – and you tell them that if they come after Aisling again it will be the last thing they ever do.”

“I … you can’t threaten me.”

I had to hand it to the guy. He was outnumbered. His backup was blowing away in the summer breeze. He wasn’t giving up, though. It was almost impressive.

“You tell my mother that if she wants to see me she knows where to find me,” I said. “If she sends more like you and your friend, they’ll end up in the same grave Fontaine resides in.”

The man didn’t reply. Instead he turned on his heel and disappeared into the night.

When Griffin was certain the man was gone, he turned to me.

“That was pretty impressive,” I said, forcing a nervous smile. “I’m really turned on. Are you ready to go yet?”

“You are in so much trouble,” Griffin muttered. “You have no idea how big a fight we’re going to have on the way home.”

“What did I do?” When in doubt, feign innocence.

“You walked out of the restaurant unprotected. You picked a fight with a wraith and a … whatever he was. You mouthed off and provoked them. Do I need to go on?”

Sometimes feigning innocence doesn’t work. “I didn’t know a wraith would be out here.”

“Did you know that guy would be out here?” Griffin wasn’t backing down.

“He was watching me inside the bar,” I admitted. “I couldn’t decide whether he was a real danger or a random pervert. I only wanted to see what type of vehicle he got in.”

“Why didn’t you come get me?”

“I … you were fighting for my honor.”

Griffin made a face that would have been comical under different circumstances. “You don’t need anyone to fight for your honor. What you need is handcuffs so I can fasten you to me to keep you out of trouble.”

“Well, that sounds like it could be fun. If we go home now we can try that.” I was trying to be flirty.

“That is not going to work on me.”

“I’ll dress up in an outfit if you want,” I offered. “I’ll tell you how big and strong you are while I pretend to cry so I can get out of a ticket.”

Griffin sighed, running a hand through his hair as he shot me a dark look. “You’re lucky you’re cute, because that little line of bullshit you just ran on me wouldn’t work if you weren’t adorable.”

I cautiously moved to him, batting my eyelashes as I closed in. “Oh, Detective Taylor, there must be something I can do to make you feel better.”

“Knock that off,” Griffin warned, although he slid an arm over my shoulders and pulled me tight against his chest. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“I think they mostly wanted to talk to me, although … .”

“Although what?”

“They wanted me to go with them, but … it seemed as if they wanted something else,” I replied.

“What do you think they wanted?”

“I don’t know,” I answered. “I asked them about my mother.”

Griffin tightened his grip on my shoulder. “Did they give you any information?”

“He lied and said he had no idea what I was talking about.”

“How do you know he was lying?”

“I guess I don’t,” I conceded. “It felt like a lie. Of course, I could have wanted it to be a lie and convinced myself that it was because I’m too messed up to deal with the alternative right now.”

“It was probably a lie,” Griffin said. “I’m not saying that to make you feel better. I’m still fairly ticked off at you. Do you know how terrified I was when I realized you weren’t in the bar?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, and I meant it. “I just … sometimes I can’t stop myself from doing stupid things. I knew it was a bad idea and yet I had to see. Does that make any sense?”

“Nothing you do makes any sense. I … .” Whatever he was about to say was drowned out by the sound of the door opening behind us. Griffin handed the knife he clutched toward me and turned, blocking my body as I shoved the knife in my pants and tugged my shirt out to cover the hilt.

I glanced around Griffin’s shoulder, biting my lip to keep from scowling when Adam and a few of the other officers from inside rushed out.

“Are you two okay?” Adam asked.

“Yes,” Griffin said, exchanging a worried look with me. “We’re fine. I … why do you ask?”

“One of the waitresses said that someone was being mugged out here,” Adam explained. “From the description, I thought it could be Aisling.”

“Oh,” Griffin said, tilting his head to the side. “Um … .”

“I wasn’t being mugged,” I answered smoothly, moving up to Griffin’s side and slipping my hand in his. “There were two mouthy drunk guys out here and I just … had words with them.”

“About what?” Adam appeared curious.

“They were commenting on my pants.”

“Well, I understand that,” Adam said, his eyes drifting to my legs. “They didn’t touch you, did they?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I know how to take care of myself,” I said. “I have four brothers. No one can dish insults and live to tell the tale like I can.”

“She’s funny,” Adam said, shifting his attention to Griffin. “Did you see them?”

“They were gone by the time I got out here,” Griffin said. “Aisling and I were just talking about how stupid it was for her to walk out here alone.”

“It was definitely stupid,” Adam agreed. “A girl in tight pants like that? She’s practically asking for it.”

Did he just say what I think he said? “Wait just a second … .”

Griffin squeezed my hand to quiet me. “She knows she shouldn’t have come out here alone,” he said. “She was upset after what happened at the table and needed some air.”