Grimm Consequences

I heard the directive, more insistent this time. Knew I had a job to do. Ignored it.

I smoothed the woman's hair, peered down at her face, praying her lids would open once more and give me another glimpse of the only eyes that had seen me as I truly was since I'd left behind my own mortal coil centuries before. As if she'd heard my thoughts, she lifted her lids and met my gaze again. She must've seen something odd in my expression.

“I understand,” she assured me. “I do not blame you.” Then she reached up and placed her cool, slim hand against my cheek, comforting
me.

Impulsively, I turned into her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm, puzzled that such a small act of kindness could have such a profound effect. And I knew I couldn't do it. I couldn't take her. How could I possibly end the life of the one person who'd ever seen me for what I really was? How could I deprive the world—real or Make Believe—of such a woman? I couldn't extinguish such a magnificent light—not when I craved it so desperately.

 

 

 

 

Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

Grimm CONSEQUENCES

KATE SERINE

eKENSINGTON BOOKS

Kensington Publishing Corp.

All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

Table of Contents

For everyone who fell in love with Tess and Nate in
Red
and wanted more of their story . . .

First and foremost, thanks to Alicia and Nicole—two unbelievably dynamic women!

Alicia—your love for this series warms my heart! I feel so fortunate to have such an amazing editor and partner in creating my Tales.

Nic—you believe in me and my writing without fail and keep me going when this crazy business gets to me. I'm sincerely blessed to have you as my friend and agent! Love you, sweets.

And, as always, I have to say thanks to my family and friends. Your love and support means the world to me! Much love to you all.

And many, many thanks to the fans of my Transplanted Tales. I'm extremely touched that you have come to love these characters as much as I do. Your support, encouragement, and kind words make all the hard work worthwhile. This one's for you . . .

I'll never forget the moment I saw her. She was lying in a heap on the forest floor, barely noticeable among the autumn leaves that had drifted down into a thick bed that covered the ground. Her simple brown cloak masked her at first, but I caught a glimpse of red boots and knew I'd found my mark.

As I drifted toward her, the wind began to howl like a wolf mourning his lost love, and a long buried sensation unexpectedly tugged at my heart.
What was it?
I needn't have even asked the question. In spite of my resolve to feel nothing, this particular emotion was an old friend and once more fell upon me against my will.

It sat like a cold stone upon my chest and would've suffocated me had I not already died centuries before. Now it was just a special brand of torture. So many regrets, so many choices I wished I could unmake. But already behind schedule, I quickly shoved aside the memories that lurked on the edges of my mind and turned my attention back to the job I'd been given.

My directives always came to me as a sharp command with no additional information. I never needed more than that. I knew what had to be done. Finely honed instincts forged in fire and blood always led me to where I needed to go. And today they had brought me here, to this woman who lay near death, exhausted, starving, heartbroken.

But in a moment, I would relieve her of her suffering. I'd reach my hand into her chest and gently remove her soul and then shepherd her on to the great hereafter. If she'd let me. Most people fought against me, cursed my name, pleaded for just a little longer.... But, in the end, such resistance was futile. I'd never granted a reprieve. Why should I? No one had granted one to me when I lay dying.

I knelt at the woman's side and carefully lifted a lock of jet black hair away from her face. I gasped, struck by the loveliness of her. Her fair skin was a startling contrast to her dark hair and ruby red lips. I'd seen beautiful women before. Many, in fact. But this one . . . She stirred something deep inside me that mingled with my old friend Regret and urged me to hold her, comfort her.

Without stopping to think, I gathered her tenderly into my arms and held her close. I placed my hand over her heart, intending to slowly bring it to a stop and offer her a quiet death, but to my astonishment, I suddenly was privy to all she'd suffered, all she'd endured. Never before had I been granted such a look into the deepest recesses of a person's heart. Staggered by her strength and loyalty, I momentarily forgot why I'd come.

It was then that her eyelids fluttered and opened, revealing to me the most amazing blue eyes I'd ever seen. They were the same shade as robins' eggs, and they were clear and focused, determined and strong, even though she was mere moments from dying.

“You've come for me,” she whispered, her voice dry from thirst and lack of use.

I blinked at her in astonishment. She could actually
see
me? Impossible! And yet her eyes met and held mine, forbidding me to lie to her. “Yes,” I replied. “I have.”

She nestled closer, grasping onto me as she burrowed into my chest. “So cold.”

I wrapped my arms tighter around her, willing my warmth into her. She sighed a moment later, a slight smile curving her lips.

I heard the directive, more insistent this time. Knew I had a job to do. Ignored it.

I smoothed the woman's hair, peered down at her face, praying her lids would open once more and give me another glimpse of the only eyes that had seen me as I truly was since I'd left behind my own mortal coil centuries before. As if she'd heard my thoughts, she lifted her lids and met my gaze again. She must've seen something odd in my expression.

“I understand,” she assured me. “I do not blame you.” Then she reached up and placed her cool, slim hand against my cheek, comforting
me.

Impulsively, I turned into her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm, puzzled that such a small act of kindness could have such a profound effect. And I knew I couldn't do it. I couldn't take her. How could I possibly end the life of the one person who'd ever seen me for what I really was? How could I deprive the world—real or Make Believe—of such a woman? I couldn't extinguish such a magnificent light—not when I craved it so desperately.

Making my decision, Reaper laws be damned, I stood, cradling her in my arms. I would grant her a reprieve, I decided. I would refuse to take her soul and deliver it as ordered. I had no idea what that would mean. I didn't care. Whatever punishment I'd face, whatever penance I'd be forced to suffer, it'd be worth it.

I carried her away from the site where she was supposed to have died, fearing that another Reaper might be sent to finish the job I'd refused to complete. My mind churned in desperation, trying to figure out how to find one who'd care for the woman in my arms and restore her to health. My corporeal form was fleeting. Soon I'd be nothing more than a dark mist, all that remained of my equally dark soul. I had to find a safe place for her before that happened. But I didn't know this land called Make Believe. I was assigned to the mortal world. My assignment today had been a fluke. A scheduling error.

But as soon as the sense of urgency came to me, something told me if I just kept walking west, I'd find the perfect place, the ideal person, to take in and care for the woman in my arms.

I'd walked for nearly two miles before she spoke again. “What is your name?”

My name?
Hell, I barely remembered. And it was probably best not to share the truth anyway. “Nathaniel,” I lied, borrowing the name of the last man I'd collected.

“Do you have a surname, Nate?” she asked, her voice teasing in spite of her dire situation.

I grasped for a name that I'd heard in my travels in this realm, something that would make sense in her world. “Grimm. My name is Nathaniel—uh,
Nate
—Grimm.”

“Hmm,” she murmured. “Any relation to those bastards who've been stealing our stories?”

“None whatsoever. And what do they call
you
?”

“My name is Tess Little,” she told me, her voice growing weak. “But everyone calls me Red.”

Through the trees I at last caught a glimpse of a small cottage, its facade warm and inviting. A grandmotherly woman bustled about, inspecting a thriving pumpkin patch. I quickened my pace, altering my appearance with a force of will that would cost me a considerable amount of my remaining time on this plane of existence. Appearing not as my Reaper self but as a construct of how I'd once appeared so as not to frighten, I called out, “Hello there!”

The grandmotherly one glanced up, then gasped in surprise and rushed forward to meet me. “Good heavens!” she cried. “Whatever has happened to the poor dear?”

“She needs a warm bed, sustenance,” I replied, my tone clipped. “Will you help her?”

She nodded without hesitation. “Of course, my dear. Bring her inside at once.”

I placed Tess on a bed and helped remove her cloak, revealing deep scratches on her bare arms, testament to her horrific journey through the forest. A horrible tug at the center of my chest caught me off guard.

Interesting. That was new.

“Poor child.”

I turned my gaze to the elderly woman. “Will you watch over her? Protect her? She has no one.”

“No one but you,” the grandmother amended.

I smoothed Tess's hair. “She does not belong to me,” I lamented on a sigh, surprised just how much that disappointed me. “She won't even remember me when she wakes.”

“Well,
I
will remember you,” the grandmother assured me. “And I will tell her of your kindness.”

I shook my head. “No, you won't.” I held the grandmother's gaze and caught her memories of me, extracting them with care so as not to dislodge my request. “You will remember nothing of me, only my words.”

She nodded, still entranced.

I felt my corporeal form beginning to dissipate and caressed Tess's cheek with the back of my fingers before pressing a kiss to the top of her head, drawing out the memories of me as I pulled back. “I'll be watching over you, Tess Little.” As I felt my essence begin to scatter into a million particles of shadow, I added, “And someday we will meet again.”