Light the Shadows (A Grimm Novel) (23 page)

Thomas did his best to knock the other shadows away, but now that he was no longer a Grimm, he had no power over them. Sully slashed at them with his blade, but for each one that he got rid of, another was waiting to take its place. The little girl giggled cruelly, urging them to harm him further. Before long, he was almost too tired to fight back. His body ached with fatigue, and their demented, miserable thoughts were beginning to seep into his mind. There were just too many to fight, at least twenty of them, and it seemed the number was ever growing.

In a synchronized movement, the shadows pinned his limbs to the ground
, and a big man dipped his forehead against Sully’s. Was he attempting to do some kind of freaky mind meld thing? Sully thrashed about, desperate to escape.

Thomas darted away from the shadows pursuing him. He began disappearing, but managed to yell, “I’ll get the
Grimm. She can help.”

“No!” Sully growled beneath the weight of the shadows and their heavy thought control. But it was too late
. Thomas was gone, and already Sully felt his limbs relaxing. As one entity, the group told him to relax, and despite his knowing it was wrong, he couldn’t stop his body from responding. His limbs stopped thrashing, and he no longer tried to get away. Now he lay immobile on the pavement. The scythe fell from his fingers and clattered to the ground.

The girl moved toward him then put her dainty little shoe on his shoulder. “Now I have you. Thomas will tell the
Grimm, and then I’ll get her, too.”

Sully’s eyes stung, but he wouldn’t reward her with a single fucking tear. To say he was scared was an understatement. To say he was filled with hatred was
, too. He felt hate toward the girl and the shadows. And Thomas, too. More than anything, he felt it toward Azrael. How the hell had the old man allowed this to happen? Had he known it would end like this? Surely Death had the power to step in and put a stop to this.

He wasn’t as scared for himself as he was for Micah. She was just a fragile mortal
. What could she possibly do besides get hurt? Sully shut his eyes and groaned. In this instant, he wished Micah didn’t love him. That she didn’t give a shit. To do so would surely be her death.

The girl’s head whipped around to the nearing sound of sirens. She grimaced then looked down at Sully with a
lift of the eyebrow. To the others she said, “Hurry, let’s move him.”

Chapter Seventeen

It had been hours since she
had awoken alone in Sully’s bed. At first, she’d expected him to come back with breakfast. When that hadn’t happened, she’d taken a shower then picked up some of the clutter around the house. In doing so, she’d learned a little bit about him. There were a couple takeout containers in the fridge, both from the Chinese place downtown. Aside from a pint of ice cream, there was nothing in the freezer. Not even an ice tray.

She cleaned up the bedroom and made the bed. A sketch pad with bike designs drawn inside had fallen between the nightstand and mattress. She laid it on the dresser then moved toward the closet to hang the fallen articles of clothing. Frowning at all the black fabric crammed within, she vowed to buy him a shirt of any other color. It was one thing to be death personified, but that didn’t mean the man had to wear black all the time.

Finally, she picked up the shirt he’d worn the night before. It still carried his scent, the warm spice of his cologne and leather. Holding the shirt to her chest, she fell atop the bed and buried her face within the soft fabric. “Where the hell are you?”

Sully wasn’t answering his cell phone, but she consoled herself by believing he merely had souls to reap. He’d be back soon. They’d moved past the juvenile mind games and running away from each other’s feelings. Hadn’t they?

Late afternoon sunshine dappled the bedroom curtains and made swirly patterns on the wall above her head. She had things to do. He’d better not expect her to hang around and wait on him all night, too.

Groaning, she tossed the shirt aside and went to the dresser where she’d left her keys. She’d be more comfortable at home. Maybe Anna would be there and they could discuss these latest developments and figure out why he was avoiding her again. Maybe he thought things were moving way too fast between them. She laughed aloud at that, her voice echoing throughout the empty house. It wasn’t like he’d walked in on her reading the latest issue of Modern Bride.

Micah paused in the living room to stare at the only locked door in the house. It appeared to be another bedroom or perhaps an office. She tried the knob, jiggling and twisting hard. The door refused to open.

“What are you hiding in there, Sully?” Micah knew she should leave well enough alone, but curiosity continued to eat away at her. She just couldn’t stand it. Sully lived alone. Why would there be need to lock that door? It could only mean one thing. There was something within that he didn’t want her to see.

Micah bit her bottom lip. She should walk away and let the man have his secrets. Two steps were as far as she got. Casting one last glance at the door, she cursed beneath her breath then fell to her knees in front of it. It would only take a minute to jimmy the lock. If she was very, very careful Sully wouldn’t even know she’d been in there.

The lock popped on the second try. Micah breathed a sigh of relief then scrambled up to her feet. A chill trembled down her spine as she took a step inside the room. She knew this was wrong. Invading Sully’s private study was likely to piss him off when he found out.
If
he found out, she amended with a smirk.

She moved silent and sure across the room. This sense of purpose led her to the old wooden desk and the papers piled atop it. For a moment, she simply stared at the mess until she spotted a newspaper clipping amongst the random pages. The article read:

A brief description of the patient was listed below. It claimed the woman was about five foot seven, very thin with bleached blonde hair and brown eyes. The woman arrived at the hospital wearing a tank top and jeans. She had several piercings, scars on her arms, and a tattoo of a peacock feather on her wrist. She had died of an overdose.

“Oh my
God,” Micah whispered on a shaky breath. Her scalp tingled, and a shudder raced down her spine. Now she remembered. She’d gotten the tattoo when she was twenty, and most of the piercings were self-inflicted. The scars, why couldn’t she remember the scars? She frowned then riffled through the rest of the papers.

A black and white photo of a short haired woman glared up at her. Micah ran her thumb across the newsprint photo, smearing the ink and staining her skin. Could this really be who she was? She squinted at the smeared mug shot from the Tucson, Arizona police department. The photo wasn’t even that old, dated just last year.

It wasn’t her. It couldn’t be. Still, she couldn’t tear herself away. Dropping her gaze, her vision swam as she continued to read.

Identity of Jane Doe discovered

The body of a woman known only as “Jane Doe” has been identified as Kelly Lynn Banks, from Tucson. Banks was found in her apartment on the night of the 14
th,
. She was found with a hypodermic needle hanging from her arm and unresponsive. Paramedics were unable to revive Banks and pronounced her dead shortly after arriving at Desert Regional. Drug overdose is being listed as cause of death.

Banks was later identified by Harris Pettem, who came forward last Tuesday claiming his paramour had been missing for over a week. Pettem was later arrested on unrelated drug charges
, possession and intent to sell. He was also arrested earlier this year for shoplifting, but the charges were dropped due to lack of evidence. Pettem served time for robbing a convenience store in 2001. It is not known if Banks was a partner in crime, but she is suspected in the theft of a past employer’s jewelry.

Banks is survived by her adoptive parents who live in Tucson. They did not wish to speak to the newspaper about their daughter. Further investigation shows that Banks was in and out of psychiatric hospitals since the age of ten.

Krista Howard, Ms. Banks’ aunt, had this to say, “Kelly was always a good kid, but she had some problems. When she was a kid, she claimed to see ghosts all the time, and this led to a few stays at the state hospital. Her parents did all they could for her. They just couldn’t control her. She got involved with drugs and alcohol at an early age to escape the ghosts, and we just couldn’t turn her around.”

Micah stopped reading, unable to force herself to scan further down the page. Disappointment clutched her heart and tears stung her eyes. This wasn’t what she expected. A drugged up crook and total loser wasn’t who she was. It just couldn’t be.

Leafing through the paperwork was difficult, especially while tears swam in her eyes. It looked like Sully had gathered info about her childhood, the hospital, her troublesome teen years
, and even a juvenile record that should have been sealed. There was more, but instead of looking at it, she gathered it all up and wadded it in her fist. Her hand stilled just short of tossing it into the wastebasket beside the desk. With a frustrated groan, she stood and carried it out to her car instead.

Her phone buzzed on the console. Expecting to see Ben’s name, she was surprised to see Diane
’s instead. Snatching the cell up, she answered.

“He told me everything.”

“Are you okay?” Micah’s stomach fluttered.

“He and Karla have been having an affair for over a year. He only told me because he thought you had already talked to me.” Diane sniffled. “You walked in on them yesterday?”

“Yes,” Micah said. “I tried to call you.”

Diane laughed, sounding hurt and relieved at the same time. “He beat you to it. Ben is all about covering his ass. He promised it would never happen again, that he’d broken it off with her.”

“What are you going to do?”  Micah asked, her heart aching for her new friend.

“I’m going to stay with my mom for a week or so. I told him to get his shit out of the house and to be gone when I get back from L.A.,” Diane said through tears. “You’re in charge of the office until I get back.”

“Um, what about Karla?”

“She’s been fired. I doubt you’ll see either of them
,” Diane said. “They’re lying low right now. Micah, I am so sorry that I accused you.”

“It’ll be okay, Diane. We’ll figure everything out when you get back. Take as long as you need
, and I’ll hold down the fort.”

Diane breathed a sigh full of relief. “Thanks for being my friend.”

“I’ll see you when you get back.”

*
***

Later, at home, Micah spread the papers across the bed. “This is horrible!”

“Are we talking about you or your friend now?” Anna asked. “Honestly, I can barely keep up. You keep switching back and forth.”

“Ben’s a dirty bastard, for sure,” Micah said in exasperation. “But I’m talking about the stuff Sully had in his office. Just look at it.”

Anna stopped pacing the bedroom to stare at Micah. Her features tightened, and her mouth opened then closed before she began pacing again. Finally, she stopped at the foot of the bed and simply watched as Micah rearranged the various pieces into chronological order.

Micah ran a fingertip across a faded Polaroid picture depicting a skinny girl in long braids. A string of numbers was penned onto the bottom of the photo in smeared ink. She assumed it was the identification number from when she’d been adopted. Picking up the picture, she stared at the face of the seven year old girl, desperate to connect or at least feel some flicker of recognition. There was none, not even a hint.

Freckles dotted the girl’s nose. Her molasses-colored eyes were downcast, and her mouth was turned down. She looked absolutely dejected.  Long, brown braids hung past her shoulders on each side, and she was dressed in a plain white dress with no embellishments. On her feet was a pair of scuffed pink tennis shoes, both untied. One knobby knee was bruised and scraped.

She tossed the photo aside and picked up some of the later paperwork. One was an arrest record, an ugly mug shot and description at the top of the page. This one was for public intoxication and resisting arrest. The black and white photo revealed a woman with choppy blonde hair. She wore an unattractive snarl
, and her mascara had run down her face.

A tingling chill raced up Micah’s spine as Anna reached out to touch her. “None of this means anything. Not anymore.”

Micah didn’t say anything in return as she scanned over the record for what seemed like the tenth time. No matter how many times she read over the papers and looked at the few photos included in Sully’s secret stash of information, things didn’t look any better.

“I don’t even know the real me, but I hate her.” Micah tossed everything back onto the bed and shut her eyes. “Kelly Banks was a loser, and a thief and junkie. Did you see the autopsy report? There was a cocktail of drugs and alcohol in her … in my system.”