Page 60 of Grim

“Stop talking.”

“Charming as ever,” I mutter, just loud enough to be heard as I shift my focus forward—and immediately wish I hadn’t.

The scene before me is something out of a nightmare.

Twisted metal, scorched rubber, and the skeletal remains of a bus lying in a tangled heap off the highway. The sky is choked with smoke that rises in thick tar-black plumes. Emergency vehicles swarm the site, their flashing red and blue lights strobing across the broken landscape. Sirens continue to scream, the sound shrill and endless, but even still, they’re not enough to drown out the other sounds, the ones that come from the wreckage itself. The cries, the ragged sobs and wails of the dying.

I blink hard. My brain is trying to shield me, to soften the edges of what I’m witnessing, but it can’t. There are too many bodies. Too much blood. Too many limbs bent in ways they shouldn’t. Old, young, male, and female. There’s no discrimination, no mercy. Just absolute devastation. My lungs seize in my chest, and for a moment, I am unable to draw in a breath.

“Rue?” Kane’s voice is different now. It’s not curt or clipped, but softer. Hesitant and almost concerned.

“I’m fine,” I say, though I’m anything but.

The weight of this place is clinging to me in the most suffocating way. The grief, pain, and confusion are not just being witnessed. They are consuming me. “Their cries are just haunting. Can’t you save them?”

“Rue, there are no survivors. What you hear are thecaterwauls of souls not prepared to cross.” I tear my eyes away from a delicate, lifeless hand tangled in a seatbelt and look toward the side of the road. I need something—anything—less unbearable.

My gaze lands on a male figure, casually leaning against the crumpled guardrail. He’s tall with long, thick limbs and powerful muscles under a rich black suit that somehow manages to look both expensive and recklessly undone. His dark hair is slicked back, his tie is perfectly loosened with the dress shirt’s top button left open. He’s not trying too hard, but he doesn’t have to. And his smile? Holy shit.

“Well,” he murmurs, his voice low, “hello there, gorgeous.”

Heat crawls up my neck, spreading across my cheeks like wildfire. His voice is rich and rough, kissed by a British accent and smooth as the grin playing on his lips. I blink. Kane steps in front of me so abruptly that I nearly trip. His back acts as a wall between me and the stranger.

“Rue,” he growls in a low warning.

“Ah.” The man—Asher, I am assuming—straightens, his smile widening while peering over Kane’s shoulder and sweeping his dark eyes over me like he’s memorizing every detail. “This must be the special case Big D was going on about with Fate.”

“Don’t.” Kane’s voice is pure venom, but Asher just raises a perfectly arched brow.

“Relax, old friend.” Asher’s grin is lazy, dripping with charm. “I’m just introducing myself; after all, what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t?”

Kane’s jaw clenches so hard that I’m surprised his teeth don’t shatter.

“Rue, was it?” The man’s gaze locks on to mine, and there’s something in his eyes—something warm and inviting, like stepping into the sunlight after a long, cold night. “I’m Asher. A pleasure.”

“Uh … hi.” I blink, trying to remember how to function.

Asher’s grin deepens. “Charming and beautiful. Kane’s been holding out on me.” Asher goes to grab the hand unoccupied by Kane’s tightening grip.

Kane barks, “Off limits,” while pulling me back.

Asher’s smile never falters as he steps back. “Just wanted to see if it was true, is all. Not a worry, Doc.”

“Doc?” I snicker, causing Kane’s eyes to dart my way. “And you hate Grim as a nickname? Doc?”

“All right, Asher.” Kane’s voice is like ice, his body tense as he ignores me. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Of course,Grim.” Asher winks at me before turning back to the wreckage. “But you might want to keep an eye on your girl. I’m waiting for the Sisters to arrive. Once they make their grand entrance, we’ll get this party started.”

I blink. What does that mean—Sisters?

Kane must sense my question, but doesn’t allow me to voice it. He just grabs my arm and steers me toward the wreckage, his grip a little tighter than necessary.

“What’s his deal?” I ask, casting a glance over my shoulder at Asher.

“Don’t.” Kane’s voice is low, dangerous.

“Don’t what?”