A Grim Love: Can't Fight Time (2 page)

He’d been watching Nina for a while now, and knew it was only a matter of time before her father finally ended her life. It was sad, but it was also the plight of humanity, of all living things.

Grim flicked a stray leaf off his collar as he watched Nina work through her father’s volatile mood, trying to calm him down and bring him back from the murderous brink that he seemed to be at constantly.
She’s much stronger than I thought,
Grim acknowledged, stepping out of the shadows to walk through the wall and into the house.

Being a “Grim Reaper” did have its perks. One of them was that he could walk through walls, and another was that he could go completely unnoticed.
Well... except for the chill humans feel in my presence.

“Dad, I need you to stay with me. Look in my eyes… keep looking…” Grim heard Nina chant softly to her father, remaining as still as a statue.

From the way Nina handled her father, it was obvious that this wasn’t an unusual occurrence. The thought disturbed Grim, that she could live her life walking around on eggshells.
No one should have to live like this.

Grim gracefully plopped down on one of the kitchen chair as he watched Nina address her father. Right before his eyes her skin began to rise;
Goose flesh.
Grim smiled, feeling a little bit of satisfaction that even though Nina could not see him, her body could still feel his presence in the room.

Not that that makes a difference,
Grim thought angrily as he watched the interplay between father and daughter.
If the man chooses to kill her, I can’t stop him. I won’t.

“I’m sorry, Nina,” Grim heard her father say absently, a note of apprehension in his voice.

“It’s fine, Dad. Are you still hungry?” Nina asked quietly, immediately changing the subject.

Smart girl,
Grim acknowledged, watching as they each grabbed a piece of pizza and sat down at the table. Neither of them took the seat he was sitting in; even though they could not see him, they subconsciously knew he was there. It was that sixth sense humans refused to document as anything but a fable.

“I’m really tired, Dad. So I’m gonna hit the hay,” Nina said with faux cheeriness, giving her father a quick kiss on the cheek before hurrying up the stairs.

Only Grim could see the twisted look Nina’s father gave her retreating back, one of lust and shame.
He wants her.
That was obvious by how many women he had fucked and killed that looked just like her--or rather, like his long past wife.

Grim could still remember the look Adrienne had given him as he had whisked her soul off to the Underworld. She’d been one of the few souls that materialized into a wispy form of their former selves. The smile and relief on her face had been so clear and bright that Grim had wondered how bad her life had truly been. And even after he had brought her soul to a Messenger, he had still wondered.

Nina.
The young girl he had seen when he had visited Adrienne’s home and family after her passing. It hadn’t been because she had asked him; ghosts didn’t have that ability. It was Adrienne’s look of utter relief after being murdered by her husband that had left him to wonder how awful her life had been. No surprise was on her face, no fear, no sadness, just... pure relief.

Grim watched Nina’s father grab another slice of pizza and eat it, but beneath the veneer of civility he wore was an animal, lusting after its next kill. Grim knew men like Nina’s father all too well, and despite whatever had happened in his life to cause him to become like this, murder was still murder. It was not easy to take a human life, but once done, there was no way in Heaven or Hell to remove that stain on one’s soul.

Grim turned away from the man and made his way up the stairs and into Nina’s room. He entered through the wall, immediately turning to her bed.
What the--?

Nina was curled on her side, feigning sleep with a metal bat clutched tightly in one hand. Grim turned towards the door to see a number of locks lining the seam. Some looked like they had been broken off.

This? This is how she lives? In fear that her father will come and attack her in her sleep?
Grim thought angrily, his temper rising until his presence leaked out into the room, and he heard the harsh chatter of Nina’s teeth as she struggled to get warm under her multitude of blankets.

Calm down,
Grim told himself. Reaching forward, he placed his power into the locks, fortifying them against any intruders. If her father really wished her dead there was little he could do, but if the man only wanted to sneak in then the locks would hold.

Effortlessly, Grim moved towards the bed and lay on the comforter, wrapping his arms around Nina’s curled form. “Sleep,
Amica.
You will be safe this night,” Grim whispered, knowing that she could not hear him because he remained invisible.

Yet she began to relax slowly, as if she knew she was being protected;
or at least a little protected.
For the first time in his many long centuries of life, Grim wished that he was not a reaper. He wished he was a human, and could do more for Nina than help her pass on when she was ultimately murdered.

But life was never fair, for reapers or humans. “
Sleep,
” he said again, casting his voice to her his power laced into the word. Within a second she was in a deep slumber, leaving him to wonder why, after countless centuries of existence, he was choosing now to have a bleeding heart.

CHAPTER TWO

I’m gonna have me some fried fricassee when I get my hands on those damn birds!
Nina thought aggressively, opening her eyes and throwing her pillow at the window. Said birds had been chirping for more than an hour while Nina had struggled to get back to sleep. Of course, the stupid things hadn't stopped, and Nina had gotten tired of feigning sleep.

Turning onto her side, Nina read her alarm clock.
Holy crap! It's six in the bloody morning!
Nina screamed into her head as she kicked her arms and legs and indulged herself in a brief tantrum.

Yesterday had been the best sleep that she'd had in a while. Without having to worry about her father coming in, she'd felt safe and secure. It wasn't as if her father did anything that would endanger her, but she'd woken up one night to see him staring at her in the funniest way, like he wanted to do some "not so fatherly" things to her. Even knowing he'd never do them, a part of her had insisted on the locks.

But it's Dad.
And maybe it was that thought that kept her from calling the police. Deep down she wanted to believe that he'd never hurt her, but an even deeper part of her knew that that was a lie and it was only a matter of time before things escalated and he really did do something.

Swinging her legs out of bed, Nina got up and stretched before going to her dresser to pull out her clothes for the day. If she was going to be honest, being awake at six wasn’t even a new phenomenon. Ever since her mother had passed, her body seemed to wake up with the sun, as if seeking that form of protection. It was much easier to live and sleep in the daytime than it was at night. It was as if her soul craved the warmth of the sun, because she could not find it at home.

Sighing, Nina pulled on her clothes as quietly as she could, still a bit cold despite it being early enough in fall that the chill hadn’t really set in. Even now, Nina saw students wearing short-shorts, flip flops, and tank tops. But as she pulled on her clothes, Nina found herself reaching for a long sleeved pullover. Although the chill hadn’t set in for most people, for her it seemed to be becoming a constant.

“Freakin’ cold as Hades,” Nina muttered under her breath as she quietly, but quickly jammed her feet in a pair of flats.

She was quick as she dressed, grabbed her bag, and moved down the hall;
less of a chance of seeing Dad.
She loved the man, but lately he’d become increasingly... strange, distant, and seemingly removed from reality.

Nina sighed again as she got outside and closed the door, turning the knob to make sure it locked. Then she set out on her short walk down to her university. It was only a ten minute walk, but it gave her time to reflect on her life.

School had never been daunting; studying came easy, requiring minimal effort. Nothing had really been a challenge in life, except for her relationships. Most of that was because, after her mother had died and her father had become protective in the extreme, all of her friends had, well, disappeared.

The only friend she had now was Nicole, since it would take a natural disaster or death to separate them. In freshman year, they’d become friends. Nicole had a way of making the loneliness that seemed to perpetually claw at Nina fade away. She was one of the few people Nina could fully trust herself with.

Why is it so cold?
Nina thought as goose bumps rose on her skin despite the early morning rays from the sun.

Nina was passing through the gates of the university, headed towards the chapel, when the blinking lights of cop cars alerted her.
Maybe just a drunk girl? I mean Wednesday is the new Saturday.
Nina thought, grabbing her bag tightly and walking with more caution towards the chapel.

But then in the back of her mind, a little gnawing persisted.
Could it be one of the murders? But, it's never been on a campus before
.

The murders had been around the city, in different locations. They had the same M.O., which had led people to conclude it was a serial killer, especially considering all the women had looked remarkably the same. Still, it was highly unlikely that the murderer had decided to strike on campus. From the news, the places chosen were bars and clubs, not schools and universities.
I mean I don’t see a coroner tru--

Nina hadn’t even finished her thought when the smell of blood and chemicals wafted towards her, making her want to vomit any leftover pizza in her system.

Turning her head away, Nina gripped her stomach and tried not to hurl, as images assailed her mind.
The morgue is sterile. But faint traces of blood are still in the air, not quite suppressed by the heaviness of chemicals.

“Stop!” Nina whispered to herself, as she fought back the memories.

“I want to see her. Pull the sheet back,” I say and bite my tongue, for a moment the smell overpowers the chemicals in the air.

“No!” Nina said more vehemently as she closed her eyes, fighting back more than her memories.

“Are you--?” The coroner is asking pityingly.

My Dad’s beside me. Quiet, hasn’t spoken a word. “Do it.”

“Hey! Hey! You ok? Can I get a medic over here?” someone yelled near Nina, drawing her back to the present.

She was on her knees on the ground, shivering, goose bumps running like ants across her skin. An officer stood over her, a woman, with a hand rubbing circles on her back.

Pull it together!
Her subconscious yelled at her, smacking Nina out of the fog of depression and memories. “I-I'm fine,” Nina forced out through chattering teeth.
Breathe.
“I just have, um, panic attacks... School and stuff.”

More like memory attacks,
her conscience mocked.

Always the same memory, only longer and more detailed every time. It had started after her mother had died and she’d gone to the morgue, only her memory of the time was foggy, only becoming clear in her visions. Nina’s therapist has said she was working through a traumatic experience and that over time the visions would fade into nothing. Two years later and not only hadn’t they lessened, they’d increased, taking over her mind even when she was asleep, even when there was no trigger.

“You don’t look fine,” the officer said, her voice sounding so familiar to Nina even though she couldn’t think of how she knew it. Then the officer turned to address another person coming towards them: “Take a look at her for me, will ya? I got to finish up.”

“Sure. No problem,” the young medic said to the officer before helping Nina up and moving her to the ambulance, waiting just off to the side.

Was that here before?
Nina wondered, trying to distract herself from the crime scene tape blocking off the maze to the fountain. “I was there,” Nina muttered, dumbfounded.

“Huh?” The medic asked as he went about checking her. “You say something?”

Nina shivered again, as new goose bumps replaced the slowly fading ones on her skin. “Nothing,” Nina responded, answering the questions the medic asked as she tried not to look towards the maze that officers were coming in and out of.

Is that a body? Oh my God! It is!
Nina fought back revulsion as the medic finished up on her. He seemed to catch where her eyes were going and what they seemed to be glued on.  

“You’re probably wondering what happened?” the guy asked her, as he took a seat beside her in the back of the ambulance.

No. I know what happened.
“Uh, yeah, what happened?”
Besides the fact that the girl died from alcohol poisoning?

“Well...” The medic dithered, obviously deciding how much to tell her. “At the moment, we aren’t at liberty to say.”

The way he phrased it sounded weird. Usually when a student died of alcohol poisoning the police were all about telling the community and making sure every student knew that drinking had consequences. But he sounded like he was trying to hide something, trying to…

“She was murdered.” Nina said simply, her eyes following the black body bag as it was wheeled to the coroner's van and into the back. That was the only explanation for why he wasn’t giving her the “don’t drink and don’t do drugs” speech.

Goosebumps ran up her arm, and absently Nina stroked him arms trying to warm herself up; “The Sweetheart Killer right? Probably looked like all the other victims?” her voice sounded weird, like it was far away. It reminded her of another time when she’d been near a dead body. Nina rubbed her arms harder, until they began to burn.

“How the hell--?” The medic began but was cut short by the woman coming back to them and giving him a sharp look; “Uh, sorry.”

She’s a detective. Yup, same one on TV working the Sweetheart Killer case. That’s how I knew the voice.
Nina thought, turning to give the detective her full attention.

“You feelin’ better, Hun?” The officer asked, her voice buttery soft with a hint of a southern accent. “You still look a little pale. Maybe I should call someone? A family member? Do you have a number?”

Nina opened her mouth to respond that she was fine, but something possessed her to close her lips right back up. Despite the woman’s kind concerned words, there was something behind them.

Of course! She wants information.
Nina had talked with too many detectives when she and her father had been working on her mother's murder before the case had gone cold. After being surrounded by detectives for nearly ten hours out of the day, Nina had acquired a very useful skill: seeing under the concern and flattery to the real information they wanted.

This officer wanted to know about her. After the number she’d probably ask her name, her address, maybe weasel out some classes and activities Nina participated in. But the biggest question was: why did the officer care?
Simple. Because she suspects me of something. Maybe not murder, but something.

Nina turned away to check her watch.
A quarter to eight.
She’d been here far too long already. “I’m fine, really,” she said smoothly, sliding from the back of the ambulance onto the sidewalk. “I’m sorry, but I have to get to class,” she added for good measure.

Nina chose her words carefully, giving no indication where her class was or when it started.
Don’t give her anything
, her subconscious cautioned as she quietly thanked the medic and turned to leave, goose bumps appearing on her skin once again as the air became a few degrees cooler.

“Wait.” The simple command issued by the detective stopped Nina in her tracks.

“I’m sure you could spare a few minutes to talk with us. Maybe answer a few questions--since you’re feeling so fine,” the detective finished, her tone flat and devoid of the buttery quality it had had before.

So the gloves are off, then.
Turning, Nina smiled, and inclined her head. “Of course, I’ll be happy to help in any way I can.”

***

Grim ground his teeth as he stood beside Nina and heard her answer the detective’s questions.
She's smart,
Grim thought again, as he watched Nina chose her words carefully and tried to look like a freaked-out college student about to be late for class. Of course, he could see through the charade to the calculating woman who knew far more than she let on beneath.
And apparently, so can this detective.

It had been twenty minutes of his immortal life, standing there and watching the two women talk. No pertinent information had been exchanged, though it was obvious both knew a great deal more they weren't telling the other.
Like the fact that the detectives wouldn’t tell her that she looked like all the other victims.

Of course, Nina had her own secrets, but twenty minutes was long enough to ferret them out. If the detective didn't know by now, she probably wasn't going to know.

Grim took a few steps away from Nina, watching as she stopped shaking and her skin began to regain some color.

Should've known.
Grim thought with a slight grimace. Reapers were naturally cold, but when they were in their transparent state, or as some of the young Reapers liked to say, "ghostin," their temperature dropped drastically.