Page 30 of Grim

That’sNotHowThatWorks

“I can do this alone. Just stay here.” Kane’s voice is low, steady, the kind of voice one would use when trying to shut a door quietly instead of slamming it. But the door is being shut all the same.

His eyes won’t meet mine. They haven’t since the cemetery.

Like if he doesn’t look at me, nothing actually happened.

Or if he closes his eyes tight enough, he can pretend I wasn’t trembling beneath his touch, begging him for more.

Well, he can pretend all he wants; I’m not spending my final days in an awkward silence with this man.

“No,” I say sweetly, grabbing my boots. “We make a great team.”

I follow him out of the house as he lets out an annoyed huff.

“We’re not a team. I work alone.”

“Oh, c’mon, Grim. Don’t make me do something rash.”

His eyes narrow as he continues to glare at the Tombstone Phone. “Like what?”

I tap my chin thoughtfully. “Well, since my days are numbered, I suppose I’ll just head on down to the local news station and share my thoughts on Death and Fate and Time. Maybe toss in a little exposé on reapers and portals. ”

He doesn’t flinch, but I see the flicker in his jaw. A tic. A twitch. I’m counting that as a win.

“Hop on,” he mutters, and deciding it’s now or never, I leap onto his back, wrapping my legs and arms around him. “I wasn’t being literal,” he grunts.

I try not to read too much into his tension or the way it feels like he’s holding me like he never wants to let go.

Maybe that’s wishful thinking on my part.

It’s possible that he only did what he did out of pity.

One last ride for the dying girl? I mean, he seemed to be enjoying it, but what if it was an act?

When his phone chimed with news of a new case, Kane leapt at the opportunity to switch to work mode.

I’ve never seen anyone so excited over a death before.

I’m trying my best not to take offense to it.

I’d be lying if I didn’t say it stung though.

“Hold on,” he mutters after placing his phone in his pants pocket before we take off.

We land hard. The sky is grey. We arrive in front of a small shotgun-style house, tucked into a quiet corner of town, overgrown ivy climbing the white siding and cracked concrete steps leading to a door with peeling paint. Kane holds my hand as we walk in.

“This should be an in and out,” Kane mutters. “Old man, natural causes, no partner, no next of kin.”

My steps falter at the coldness of his words. You would think he was talking about the weather.

“No one to miss him?” I say softly while looking around the dated living room.

The air inside is still. Faded wallpaper curls at the edges in every room.

A threadbare recliner sits near a dusty bookshelf, stacked with yellow paperbacks.

I see one on the coffee tray by the chair, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end.

I walk to the worn book and nearly sob at the words written inside on the first page—in my handwriting.

Seul l’impossible peut faire l’impossible .

“No,” I breathe out, looking at my copy of Interview with a Vampire , the copy I lent to GG.

“No one to tie him here” Kane snaps, pulling me out of my thoughts. “And stop touching his belongings. This isn’t an estate sale.”

“You think no one will remember him? Will miss him? Mourn him?” I insist while stepping in front of the large man. “You know, sometimes, I forget you don’t have the capacity to feel compassion,” I spit out.

Then my eyes travel to the window, and I see the little tray he has set up with a chessboard, two moves in.

This was the last game he and I played. I had to cut it short because I wasn’t feeling well and Mom was going back to Chicago.

He brought the board home and set it up to study for our eventual finish.

“What is the matter with you?” Kane asks, making eye contact.

“At least you can still look me in the eyes,” I state while crossing my arms over my chest.

Kane gives me a forced smirk. “Right now, I have a soul to collect. If it were up to me, I would do nothing more than stare into your eyes. For eternity. But it is not, so do me a favor, and let’s try to keep things professional.”

I gape as Kane walks around me to move down the hall. I realize he didn’t bother taking my hand again. Though I guess he doesn’t need to if we are the only ones here.

I follow Kane, making my way into the bedroom, only to stop in my tracks.

“Oh, GG,” I squeak out at the motionless body in the bed.

Kane’s head whips around as he stares at me. “You know my client?”

My lip wobbles as a burning sensation tingles my nose and pricks my eyes.

“Yes,” my voice is so small as I try to make sense of what’s happening. “I…he…we just played chess a few days ago at the center.”

“The community center?” he asks, and my gaze meets his.

“How did you know that? ”

“I saw you,” he says softly. “I was cleaning up a reap from a subordinate and saw you talking about a book. Rebecca.”

“Yes,” I breathe, his words stunning me. He saw me there? He remembers what I was talking about? “I volunteer twice a month at the community center in town. I read, play chess…Oh, Kane, he is such a nice man.” I whimper as a tear falls from my eye. “Surely there’s a mistake.”

Kane exhales sharply, glancing toward the bed. “Nice people die too, Rue. If it’s any consolation, he went peacefully.”

I shake my head, not willing to accept this. “Small comfort.”

Kane touches Mr. Guidry’s arm, and his scowl deepens.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Where is his spirit?”

“Still inside him,” Kane says like a curse as his grip on the body tightens.

“Can he hear us?”

“Obviously,” Kane grits out.

“Then talk to him.”

Kane whirls his head around and raises his brow. “I’m sorry, who is the experienced reaper here? Not you, correct?”

Kane leans over Mr. Guidry. “Come on. It’s time. I know you’re scared, but there’s nothing on the other side to fear.” There is only silence, and Kane growls in frustration.

He looks at me and sighs. “He’s holding on, says he can’t leave.”

I inch closer. The silence is thick, and Kane’s shoulders tighten with each passing second.

“Why are you so tense?” I ask softly.

“Because nothing is easy anymore,” he mutters, staring at his phone. “Can’t even process a single, simple crossover.”

“Hey, that’s my friend, asshole.”

“My apologies. I just want something to go smoothly this week. Anything.”

“Okay, so if you’re in such a rush, why don’t you just use your knife thing?” I whisper .

“You mean Baiulus ?” he questions.

“Is that the thing I saw you use during the—”

“Yes,” he cuts me off.

“You named your knife?”

“All reapers have a cleaving tool and all have a name. They allow us to sever the thickest threads that bind souls to their physical hosts. Those final pieces of connection are always the hardest to break.”

“And Baiulus is yours?”

“Correct.”

“What does it mean?”

Kane sighs. “So many questions. It’s Latin. It means pallbearer, or one who carries a burden.”

“Fitting,” I mumble softly. Then I remember something and ask, “What did Asher name his blade?”

Kane bristles at the mention of his fellow reaper, but he answers, “I don’t know what it’s called, but he didn’t name it.

When one becomes a reaper, you are assigned your tool.

There’s a ceremony. The weapon is presented, and when you first grasp it, the name etches itself into the handle.

And it becomes tied to the user. Irrevocably. For eternity.”

“That’s intense.”

“The higher-ups are nothing if not dramatic. Nothing like a bit of pageantry to raise the stakes of eternal mundanity.”

“Okay, well … yeah. That. Why don’t you use that and get Mr. Guidry moving?”

“That’s complicated.” Kane eyes me.

“Try me.”

“Well, for starters, using my blade takes energy. It’s also violent and messy and a bit barbaric, and as I said, that’s not me.”

“Not all of you,” I mumble back, remembering Asher’s words from before.

“I heard that,” he responds sharply.

“Good,” I fire back. “What other excuse do you have? Souls shouldn’t be here, right? It’s better if they cross over?”

“It is,” Kane says steely. “Decidedly better. Because when spirits stay here, they rot.” His green eyes flick to mine, sharp and burning.

“They have no purpose and no power. And that which is powerless atrophies in time. They see and feel all that they remember, but they have no way to engage with it. They are no longer a part of the world, simply trapped in it.”

He steps closer to me, and his presence is a shadow, wrapping tight around my body.

“Eventually, they forget who they were, Rue. They forget why they mattered, what mattered. Or even if anything ever mattered. They’re no longer the complete soul you see before you.

They become a distillation of their grief.

A haunting echo of their worst memories.

At best, they become a nuisance. At worst, they become dangerous. ”

I shudder, something cold and foreign curling beneath my skin.

It steals my breath.

“But,” he continues, his tone shifting, “this choice, this moment of resistance, it’s the last act of human will he’ll ever have.

After this, it’s over. There’s no more deciding.

No more agency. Everything that follows is assigned.

Processed. Ordered.” He steadies himself while shaking his head.

“And I don’t want to take that final act of will from any soul. Not if I can help it.”

The air grows heavier, and I feel a tingle run up my spine.

“Obviously, there is something here that makes him want to hold on. Something your notes didn’t cover.”

“Rue, he’s alone,” Kane continues, and I can tell he’s done humoring me. “No family, no legacy. Just that weathered body and a worn-down mattress in a house that smells of dust and mold.”

“You really are something, you know that?” I snap, shaking my head.

“Thinking everything human can be put down on paper and explained away. Insistent that everything has a reason and a way.” He looks at me like he doesn’t know what to say, and I roll my eyes before continuing, “Life is messy, Kane. And complicated and scary and so many other things. So, maybe you should be doing more than keeping your knife sheathed. Maybe you should be listening, guiding, and leading with love.”

My outburst is cut short by a dark grey cloud that floats out of the center of GG’s chest. It steals my entire focus as his physical form takes a smoky shape .

This grey version of him looks at me and smiles. “Looks like we won’t be finishing that game after all.”

I give him a short laugh. “Maybe someday, GG. You never know.”

Mr. Guidry’s face softens.

“You’ve run out of time,” Kane interrupts. “I’ll mark you as unwilling to move on, a lost soul. Enjoy your eternity here.”

“Kane!” I go to grab his arm, but he moves it away.

“I can’t leave!” Mr. Guidry barks out. “Winston needs me.”

“Winston?” Kane questions, and it hits me.

“His dog,” I say, looking around before going to the bed and lifting the blankets to find the cocker spaniel tucked up against the body like a small, grieving shadow.

“You chose to stay,” Kane says slowly, like he’s trying to make sense of the madness, “for a dog?”

“For the one creature who loved me without asking me to earn it? Yes. For the being that taught me the meaning of unconditional love? Yes.”

Kane huffs out a cold laugh before shaking his head. “Fine, it’s too late anyway. Come on, Mayday,” he says, brushing past me. “Let’s go.”

But I don’t move.

“Hang on a second.”

“Rue—”

“Love is love, Kane. The object of that desire does not make the feeling any less powerful or any less real,” I insist. “This beautiful old man clings to love. Can you blame him? Have you never known lo—”

“Do not finish that sentence, Rue.” The threat and the warning are very clear in his tone.

I change tack.

“Let me”—I hesitate—“talk to him,” I finish unsurely.

Kane sighs and looks at his Tombstone Phone. “Fine,” he relents. “I don’t see the harm. You want to waste your time talking to the ghost? Go for it. His window for crossover is rapidly closing, and once that portal is shut, this is where Mr. G’s soul shall remain.”

I eye Kane as a resolve takes over. I feel my spine stiffen, and I make my way toward the spectral energy hovering above, though still attached to, Glen’s physical form.

I am not sure I can help him, but I know I can speak to him.

And even when faced with the impossible, it’s easier to brave it when we aren’t alone.

I kneel beside the shimmering remnants of Glen Guidry and give him a soft smile. “Tell me about Winston, GG.”

His translucent smile tugs at my heart. “He’s my heartbeat.

He knows when I’m tired, sad, hurting. He’s been the rhythm of my days since Agnes died.

He sleeps at the foot of my bed. Nudges his bowl for breakfast and dinner at the exact same time every day.

He’s my own lovable alarm clock. I could measure the whole day by his needs.

He would even remind me to take my pills at night. ”

“How’d he do that, GG?” I ask warmly.

“He’d look up at my nightstand, yip once, and then spin counterclockwise.

Eight thirty-five every night. If I didn’t reach over and grab my dispenser, he wouldn’t stop.

” He pauses, sighs, and smiles. His smoky form wavers slightly in the air.

“He loves me, you know? Maybe that sounds silly to you because he’s just a small dog, but he does.

He loves me. I don’t know how to leave him behind. ”

“You don’t have to,” I whisper. “He’ll carry you with him. Every day. In every bark and dream and stubborn spin around the kitchen floor. That bond doesn’t just end. It can only shift.”

I reach out, and to my surprise, my hand finds the edge of his soul, and like with Kane, it’s solid.

“You loved him well, GG. That’s what matters. That love? That’s not ending. That’s eternal.”

His eyes go glassy. “You think he’ll be okay?”

“I know he will. Because he had you, and I will make sure he’s well looked after.”

“Thank you, Rue,” he says, voice trembling.

The edges of the cloud of him begin to separate and disappear like cotton candy in the rain. Winston whimpers. He sighs in response to the sound, then releases a second resigned exhale.

“I’m ready to go now.”

“Checkmate,” I say to GG wistfully.

He smiles. “But what a game! ”

We share a final moment as he begins to laugh lightly. The sound fades as the last smoky wisps of his apparition does as well.

And then he’s gone.

“Did he …”

“Yeah,” Kane says, voice low and unreadable. “He moved on.”

“I did that?” I whisper, staring at my palms.

“It would seem so,” he breathes. “And mere moments before his portal closed at that.”

I give him a nervous smile before shrugging, “Beginner’s luck?”