Grimm Consequences (7 page)

“Stop!” Tess raged. “That's enough, you asshole! You'll—”

“Kill him?” Demetrius interrupted. He shrugged. “That's up to you, my dear. You decide his fate—right here, right now. If I take your lover away to suffer the rest of his punishment, I fear he may indeed die, his soul condemned to fiery torment for the rest of eternity. For you see, my girl,
that's
how we Reapers die.”

The Judges holding Tess dragged her forward and shoved her down to the ground beside me. She immediately scrambled over to me and reached out to touch me, her hand trembling as she gently brushed my blood-soaked hair from my battered face.

“We cannot be killed by the living,” Demetrius continued, crouching down beside her, his voice dripping with contrived sympathy as his filthy hand smoothed her hair. “But if another Reaper was to kill your lover, up close and personal, with his bare hands, well
that's
the only way it can be done. And if there's fire involved”—he shivered with orgasmic glee—“all the better!”

Tess's head snapped up and she pegged Demetrius with a murderous gaze. “You can go fuck yourself, you son of a bitch.” She wrapped her arms protectively around my head, cradling me against her. “There won't be any more punishing today, Demetrius. You want to get to Nate, you're going to have to pry him out of my cold, dead hands.”

Demetrius shrugged. “Very well.” He snapped his fingers at his goons.

“No!” I cried, although it came out more like a moan than an actual word. “Tess . . .”

Demetrius held up his hand, staying the Judges. “There is another way,” he told her, speaking over my attempts to form coherent speech. “Offer yourself in his place. Suffer his punishment instead.”

I shook my head furiously, my heart seizing in panic. “Don't,” I mumbled. “Let me go. . . .”

“You'll leave him alone?” Tess demanded, ignoring my protestations. “You'll let him live?”

“Of course,” Demetrius agreed, his lips curving into an insidious smile that was meant to be reassuring.

“No!” I growled. “No, not Tess!”

“Well, someone has to go,” Demetrius huffed, growing bored with the game. “If not Tess, then who? The poor souls you've abandoned? Or perhaps your love's dear old granny and
her
lover? Who will you offer up, Death Bringer? The old geezers over there who probably wouldn't last five minutes in my hands? Or your little lover who is
so
eager to protect you?”

I tried to respond, but blood choked me, setting off a fit of coughing that sent pain lancing through my body and bringing me to the edge of unconsciousness.

“Tick-tock, Death Bringer,” Demetrius sang. “Tick-tock.”

Tess smoothed my hair. “It's me. You'll take me,” she announced. When I shook my head, she took my face in her hands. “It's my choice, Nate. If you let them take Gran or Eddie or anyone else instead, I'll never forgive you. Do you understand me? I will
never
forgive you.”

I closed my eyes, damning Demetrius to hell for what he was putting Tess through. And already making plans for how I was going to ensure his suffering was ten times worse.

Tess gently laid my head down on the pavement, then bent forward to press a kiss to my lips, heedless of the blood.

“I'll come for you,” I ground out, rolling toward her and gripping her wrist, desperate to keep her beside me. “I swear it on my life.”

She gave me her saucy grin and a wink, then whispered, “You'd better.”

Demetrius nodded to his goons. They took hold of Tess's arms and pulled her away from me. Then he put his foot against my shoulder and shoved, sending me onto my back, the better to gloat over me.

“She's quite the lovely one, this Tale of yours.” He strolled away from me to stand behind Tess. “And so heroic to offer herself in your stead. In fact,” he mused, “I rather like the idea of this becoming a permanent arrangement.”

My eyes went wide, my pain suddenly nonexistent.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Tess snapped.

“After she learns her place with a little penance,” Demetrius mused, his eyes taking on a maniacal gleam, “she'll be one hell of a Reaper.”

Before I could react, Demetrius drove his hand into Tess's back, making her gasp when he grasped her soul.

“No!” I cried, my tether to Tess, to my human form, strained to the breaking point.

I dragged myself to my feet, barely able to stand, to breathe. For the barest moment I stood there before my love, our gazes locked, my heart aching to see her eyes wide with terror and confusion. The love we shared suspended us in that instant, stopped time, stilled our heartbeats. We hung there together, all that was unspoken heavy in the space between us. Then I felt the connection between us snap at the same instant my body shattered apart in millions of particles of shadow, scattering my essence to the wind. I fought to pull myself back together, my rage giving me the strength I needed in time to see Demetrius yank Tess's soul from her body and vanish, taking the Judges and the Jabberwocky with him.

Then, as if in slow motion, Tess's lids closed and her head dropped back. I rushed forward as her knees buckled and her body crumpled, keeping my form long enough to catch her lifeless body in my arms.

A terrible rumbling thunder filled my ears. It took me a moment to realize that the sound came from me. A roar of sorrow and heartbreak tore from my throat, shattering the windows of the nearby buildings and cracking open the asphalt in a great jagged chasm. I held Tess close to me, rocking a little as I buried my face in her hair, my fists knotted in her inky black tresses as screaming sobs shook my shoulders.

Then I began to shake for another reason. Rage like none I'd experienced before radiated through every particle of my being, filling me with fury until every atom buzzed with it.

“Jesus Christ.”

My head snapped up at the sound of Eddie's voice. He stumbled back a few steps when he caught my gaze, seeing me in my truest form. “Get Gran out of here,” I growled, my voice no longer recognizable as my own. It was dark, sinister, the sins of my past and my present infusing the sound with deadly menace. “I don't want her to see Tess like this.”

Eddie swallowed. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. What about her?” he asked, nodding toward Tess.

I rose to my feet, cradling Tess in my arms, shuddering with the pain that still engulfed me and with the effort to maintain my form. “She's coming with me.”

“Where are you going?” Eddie called after me, his concern for Tess evident in his voice.

I halted and cast a look at him over my shoulder. “I am the Death Bringer,” I snarled. “I plan to live up to my name.”

I didn't wait to make sure Eddie and Gran made it out of the parking lot safely. I knew Eddie would handle it as he always did. And I knew that when it came down to it, if he had heard anything during the time that Demetrius thought he and Gran were unconscious, he'd never utter a word—to me or anyone else. He was the most loyal man I'd ever met and would never betray anyone he called friend. There was a reason I'd handpicked the stoic Tale to watch over Nicky Blue and the rest of the people who mattered to me.

Right now, my top priority was to get Tess's body the hell out of there and to grab the two remaining souls from the explosion. Demetrius had been right when he was ticking away the seconds. Time was of the essence. Tess was a Tale—her body could handle one hell of a lot. But it could only handle being soulless for so long before all hope of saving her was lost.

But I wasn't going to be able to handle it on my own—I was barely holding on as it was. I needed help. I managed to get Tess back to the car, using up a shitload of energy to dematerialize with her in my arms. I briefly thought about calling Nicky, but even if he was still in town it would take him too long to get there. There was only one other person I could count on to keep a level head and do what needed to be done.

My finger disintegrated into particles of shadow the first four times I tried to dial the number on my cell, but finally on the fifth try, it hit the screen. The second the line connected I said in a rush, “Get to my car. Do CPR on Tess.”

In the next moment, I scattered, not even having enough strength to keep hold of my phone. It dropped onto the front seat of my car. I hovered around for a moment, waiting until I saw Trish Muffet running toward where I was parked, her fair brows drawn together in a worried frown.

She came to an abrupt halt when she reached the car, her mouth agape in a quiet gasp when she saw me. Too late I remembered the talent that made her such an integral part of the FMA's Forensics team.

When I was in shadow, only those marked for death could see me. But Trish was different. She could read the dead, see their last thoughts—and maybe more, for all I knew. And seeing as how I was death warmed over, she'd always avoided taking too good a look in my eyes. But there was no getting away from seeing me now. Too late, she shook her head as if she could knock the images of me from her mind and averted her gaze.

“What the hell is going on?” she whispered urgently, glancing around to make sure no one else could see me. “Where's Red?”

“I need you to trust me,” I said, my voice little more than a breeze in her ear as I swooped close enough for her to hear me. “I have to save Tess. But I need to buy some time. Can you trust me?”

Her eyes darted toward me and then into the backseat of the car, where Tess's body lay. Her breath shot out of her in something between a sob and a gasp, and she made a quick swipe at her eyes, where I now saw tears forming faster than she could wipe them away. “She's dead, isn't she?”

“Trish,”
I said sternly enough to make her wince a little, “I need you to be strong enough to trust me.”

With this she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then lifted her calm green gaze, looking right into me. She began to tremble a little as she connected with my darkness, most likely trying to gather if I was the one who'd hurt Tess. She saw the images of what I'd seen in my final moments before losing my hold on this world—and God knew what else—then she pressed her lips together in a determined line and nodded.

“Go,” she said, jerking open the car door and linking her arms under Tess's armpits to pull her out onto the street. “I've got this.”

I stuck around just long enough to see Trish tilting Red's head back to blow air into her lungs, then dematerialized to go find the two souls I'd left behind after the explosion. One of them was already out of her body, wandering around the charred remains of the restaurant, looking dazed and confused. She wasn't even aware she was dead.

In recent years, I'd learned to be more patient and kind with these lost souls, but there was no time for that today. I grasped her tightly with one hand, then extracted her girlfriend with the other and whisked them off to their final rest.

I was gone for maybe only fifteen minutes, traveling faster than I ever had before, but by the time I returned, a crowd had gathered around Trish and the FMA paramedics who'd joined her in dutifully attempting to revive Tess. FMA agents were trying to keep curious passersby away, but more people were beginning to gather and it'd soon be a mob of rubberneckers. Someone must've called Al, for he was there as well, his face even more grim than usual.

So much for keeping this quiet. I'd hoped to do what I needed to do without an audience, but it looked like that was out of the question now. Tess didn't have much time—her body had already suffered too long without its soul. If it didn't have one in it soon to take over her body's functions, she'd be lost to me forever.

I took a deep breath, preparing myself, then swooped forward, throwing myself into Tess's body. There was a massive jolt that felt like I'd been hit with a truck and I took a great gasp of air, filling Tess's lungs.

Trish fell back on her ass with a startled curse. “Red?” she asked tentatively, her voice nearly lost among the relieved gasps and clapping of the crowd. I cast a sidelong glance her way, hoping she caught the message I was trying to send. Her brows shot up just a little before she grasped my elbow and helped me to my feet. “Get back, people! Show's over!”

It'd been longer than I could remember since I'd actually possessed anyone, and my legs—or Tess's legs—were wobbly beneath me as I tried to get into the car.

“What the hell happened?”

My head snapped up at the sound of Al's voice. I briefly caught his worried gaze before glancing away to send a pleading look Trish's way. “Nothing,” I lied. “I'm good.”

“He—” Trish bit off her words, quickly recovering with, “She just needs to get outta here before the Ordinaries start asking questions.”

Al grabbed my arm, giving me that brotherly look I'd seen him use on Tess more times than I could count. “You sure you're going to be okay? You scared the shit out of me.”

I nodded and forced a smile, wondering if it even vaguely resembled Tess's. “Yep,” I stammered, “I'm good. No worries.” When Al frowned at me, I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Gotta love the guy for caring about my girl, but his big brother routine was slowing me down. I rapidly searched for the words Tess might've used to get him off her back. “If you're gonna worry about somebody, worry about the son of a bitch that did this to me. That fucking Jabberwocky is going down.”

“You saw the Jabberwocky?” Al whispered urgently.

I nodded. “Yeah. That bastard was here. Now are you gonna let me go after him or are we just gonna sit here shooting the shit while the trail goes cold again?”

Al's mouth curved up at one corner. “Just be careful. I'll send Nate after you when he gets back.”

I gave him a terse nod and got in the car, peevishly attempting to adjust the hem of the dress Tess was wearing. “How the hell does she wear this shit? I feel like I'm about to moon all of Chicago.”

Trish smiled as she started the car. “Trust me, getting her into a dress isn't easy. She only wears them for you.”

I glanced her way as she drove away from the crime scene. “What do you mean?”

“It's the same dress she wore the night of the Charmings' party, the night you kissed her for the first time . . . and everything else happened.” Trish didn't have to elaborate. I knew the
everything else
she was talking about was one of the worst nights—and the best nights—I'd experienced since being in the Here and Now with the Tales. “Tess called me earlier today to tell me about her promotion and to ask if the dress would be appropriate for dinner tonight. She knows you think she looks beautiful in it.”

I felt a knot in the center of my chest. “I think she's beautiful in anything. Or nothing at all.”

“You really love her, don't you?” Trish asked, sliding a sympathetic look my way.

I nodded. “More than I ever dreamed possible.”

“Well, tell me what we need to do to save her,” Trish said with a resolute nod.

“There's no ‘we,'” I informed her. “It's too dangerous for you where I'm going.”

“Give me a break, Nate,” she huffed. “I'm just as much of an FMA agent as you are. I think I have a right to know what's going on—and to help you. I care about her, too, you know.”

I sighed, not sure how much I should tell her. “Another Reaper has taken her soul to get back at me,” I told her. “I plan to rescue it.”

Trish's grip tightened on the steering wheel. She sent a furtive glance my way, then took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever it was she wanted to say. “I don't pretend to understand everything about you, Nate,” she admitted. “I know there's something different about you. Your Tale signature isn't like anyone else's. But you saved my life. And you love my best friend. That's all I need to know. Whatever you need from me, I'm here to help. No questions asked. I just hope someday you'll trust me enough to fill me in.”

I couldn't help a relieved sigh. If there was any Tale who could've figured out my secret if she looked hard enough, it would've been Trish Muffet. It felt damned good to know she was on my side. “Thanks, Trish. Right now, I need to get out of this dress. And I need a gun.”

She gave me a tight nod. “My apartment's not far from here. I'll get you what you need. But then what?”

“Then I'm going to go pay a visit to an old friend and demand his help.”

“And if he refuses?” she asked.

I glared out into the night, clenching my fists as I fought to keep my rage in check. Oh, Benedict was going to tell me what I needed to know. Or he'd find out just what kind of hell the Death Bringer was prepared to deliver.

 

 

Twenty minutes later, I'd traded Red's little black dress for a pair of Trish's khaki cargo pants, a black sleeveless tank, and hiking boots, and was burning up the road to get to Benedict's place of business. Seeing as how I was holing up in Tess's body, it would probably take Benedict a few minutes to catch on that it was me, but he'd figure it out soon enough. And then the shit was gonna hit the fan.

I didn't have much to work with besides my reputation. Trish had given me her service weapon, which I doubt had ever been fired outside the shooting range, but it was going to have to do. Still too weak to be completely effective as a Reaper outside the safety of Tess's body, I'd have to move quickly, take Benedict's goons down before they could respond, and get to Benedict before he had a chance to sort out what the hell was going on. The element of surprise was the only thing I had going for me.

But if it came down to it, I'd have to leave the safety of Tess's body, which would make her vulnerable and leave her once more without a soul, depriving her again of the oxygen that even a Tale had to have to survive. And this time I didn't have Trish around to do CPR.

As I came to a screeching halt in front of Benedict's establishment, I began to rethink my decision to leave Trish behind. It might've been nice to have a little backup. But for reasons I couldn't quite figure out, I got the distinct impression that Nicky Blue would have my ass if anything happened to Trish.

I'd have to puzzle over that little nugget later. Right now, I had some ass to kick.

I leaped out of the car, slamming the door behind me as I ran up the steps of All the King's Men, the exclusive, members-only men's club Benedict ran as his front.

They were gonna go ape-shit when they saw a woman walk in the door, and security would be on me in about thirty seconds. As I made the doors, I caught a glimpse of Tess's beloved face in the glass and felt my heart jerk. For a split second, I actually forgot she wasn't there with me. But then the truth came rushing back on me. My fear for her lodged firmly in my throat once again, I ignored the protests the doorman called to me as I pulled open the door and surged inside.

Surprised expressions greeted me at every turn as I plowed through the private smoking room, the bar, the library. I was just heading to the restaurant when the first security guard showed up.

“Hey, you can't be in here!” the guy barked in a harsh stage whisper so as not to disturb the patrons. “This club is for men only.”

He made a grab for me, but I dodged, taking hold of his arm and bringing my knee up to catch him in the groin. As soon as he dropped, I spun to block the arm of the next guard, who'd thought to try to come up from behind and take me unawares. I caught him with a right jab that made him howl and grab his bloodied nose.

I picked up the pace, searching the faces in the crowd as I raced through the restaurant. Something of Tess must've lingered in her body, for the aroma of filet mignon and shrimp cocktail made my stomach growl ominously and my mouth water. If my adrenaline hadn't spiked at the sight of two more guards rushing toward me, I might've chuckled over her insatiable appetite.

I dashed into the hallway, my memory of the club a little hazy. It'd been years since I'd been there. Fortunately, as was the way with most of these kinds of places, tradition was paramount and so little had changed. I came to another hallway and debated which way to turn. The heavy sound of boots running on well-worn Persian rugs made my decision for me. I pivoted to my left and sprinted down the hall. At the end of the hallway was a set of frosted, beveled glass doors. The spa. Bingo. I knew the place to be Benedict's favorite spot in the club, and as its owner, he often cleared out the spa whenever he wanted a massage, refusing to take the chance of anyone ruining his peace and quiet.