A Grim Love: Can't Fight Time (22 page)

Yin stopped and reached forward to open the door to the laboratory. Nina hadn’t even realized how far they’d walked. “Perhaps,” Yin said contemplatively as she stood wide and ushered them into the room. “Shall we begin, then?”

Nina stared at the horror movie set, wondering where the instruments of torture they would call surgical tools were. They had to be nearby. “I don’t really have a choice anyway.” Nina threw a confident smile over her shoulder as she walked with far more confidence than she felt to the metal slab. “As long as you’re sure it won’t hurt my child?”

The metal was cold and hard against Nina’s shoulders as she lay down and stared up into a black, starless sky. She could only imagine where they were, or where she’d been. Nina highly doubted the southern plantation porch had been in Georgia, or that this laboratory was in some remote province of Geneva.

“It won’t hurt the child,” Yang said as he began to secure straps over her body. “Are you ready, Nina?”

Panic raced through her body, but Nina knew that she had about as many choices as a goldfish in a fishbowl. Did Nina know what they were going to do? No. Did she know how this all tied in with the future? Not even a little. The only thing she knew with clarity was that she was pregnant with a child who was human and reaper, and that when she had the child she would die.

But if by some chance Yin and Yang could keep her alive past the birth, then she’d take whatever pain they dished out. Her own mother hadn’t been able to be there for her later on, but if Nina had a choice in being able to stay with her child, she would always choose to stay... no matter the cost to herself.

Smiling, Nina pushed all her thoughts aside, knowing that she’d need to deal with her unanswered questions soon enough. “As I’ll ever be.” she said softly, looking first at Yang and then at Yin.

Yin’s smile was so familiar that Nina couldn’t help but stare. There was something about those lips, something that she recognized. Nina tried to search her memories, and just as she was beginning to find something, pain raced through her body so fast that she was momentarily blinded. But the pain didn’t stop, but just kept coming; it just kept coming, faster and faster.

Nina had thought she’d known pain. She’d been wrong. This pain was soul deep, past skin and muscle and tissue. Nina screamed, thrashed, and changed into something that wasn’t at all human.

***

“Wake up, Nina,” a soft feminine voice called out to her, sounding so familiar.

Nina blinked open her eyes and for a split second she thought she saw her mother, the exact same soft brown eyes that she’d seen all her life staring back at her. But then her eyes adjusted, and Nina realized that the woman leaning over her wasn’t her mother at all.

Hurt sliced through her heart, and she turned her head and dashed away the tears. Nina was beyond sick of crying, but at least these were tears of pain and not of sadness. Whatever experiments they’d done on her had been so painful that even now phantom pains wracked her body.

Pulling her fingers away from her eyes, Nina looked down and saw blood. The sight made her want to hurl, and the smell reminded her of her father. Looking up sharply, Nina opened her mouth to ask if what they’d done was permanent when pair of dark brown eyes were suddenly in her face.

Nina stared into Yang’s eyes only able to see murder, mayhem, and chaos. Nina was only able to see her father. A scream clawed its way up her throat as Nina dug her heels into the ground and pushed her body back.

“Calm down, Nina. You’re fine. You’re safe,” Yin whispered as she engulfed her in a hug and began to rock her.

Nina gripped Yin and hung on for dear life as she rode out the terror and fear that had gripped her body. In the back of her mind, Nina knew that she hadn’t fully processed her death. No, she’d gone from dead to alive, from single to married, from struggling college student to pregnant reaper queen.

When had she had time to process any of it? Her life had gone from zero to sixty in the blink of an eye, and then from sixty to infinity before she’d even finished her next blink. For the second time in her life, Nina relied fully on another person, drowning her sorrows, worries, and pains in their arms. It was liberating and exhausting all at once.

It was another few minutes before Nina could draw back from Yin. Her throat was sore and raw, and she was hiccupping, but despite that she felt better. She felt like herself.

“If I never cry again, it’ll be too soon.” Nina laughed shakily as she drew her arm across her eyes to wipe away the tears. She could only imagine how she looked in that moment, but hot-ass mess probably would have been right.

Nina stared at Yin, who sat just a foot away in the flowers. It was only then that Nina realized they were in a bed of flowers and not the creepy laboratory.

“We thought you might like to wake up somewhere more… friendly,” Yang said, his arms crossed over his chest, face turned away.

Nina levered herself up and noticed she wasn’t wearing the sheet anymore but a pair of comfortable black jeans and a teal tank top under a knitted gray sweater. The outfit looked good, but understated, similar to her usual style. In fact, the outfit actually looked similar to one she’d had in her closet at her father’s house, except the giant ketchup stain she’d gotten wasn’t there.

“Nice outfit.” Nina nodded and smiled appreciatively at Yin and Yang. “Thanks.”

Yin shook her head and turned to glare at Yang who was still looking away. “It was the least we could do.”

Yang snapped his neck back around, his gaze narrowed on Yin and his expression thunderous. “You really want to go there? I got no problem laying it out now, but know that our shit would be even.”

Nina looked back and forth between the two gods, wondering if they were going to have some epic battle. Too many action movies had conditioned Nina to expect blood to start raining down, and giant swords to appear out of nowhere, and then lightly flash as Yin and Yang battled to the death. Way, way too many movies.

“We’ll take about it later.” Yin ground out as she turned away from Yang and back to Nina.

It was the weirdest thing, but Nina had a feeling the two didn’t want to fight in front of her. Whether that was because they didn’t want her to see their power, they were afraid they might actually kill her, or they just didn’t want to fight, Nina didn’t know. All she knew was that an epic battle was not about to take place.

“So, is it done?” Nina asked, changing topics as she peered around at the magnolia trees and edelweiss flowers. She tilted her head back and saw the porch and bay leaf bushes. It was a bit comforting to wake up in a familiar place, even if the place wasn’t all that familiar.

“Only time will tell.” Yang said in that vague non-answer way that frustrated Nina beyond belief.

I won’t do it. I won’t do it.
Nina chanted over and over to herself, resisting the urge to ask a question. But damn, her curiosity got the best of her. “That was a yes or no question. I can’t just go off thinking that, after all that pain I just went through, I
might
live through childbirth, and I
might
have power.”

Yang finally turned to her and gave her a cocky smile. “Why are you asking when you already know how we’re going to answer?”

Nina bit her tongue, hard, and boy did it hurt! But she refused to give the satisfaction of knowing they’d pissed her off. Last time she’d let anger get the better of her, she’d found out why people considered them gods, and if she could help it, she wouldn’t experience it again.

“Fine,” Nina spoke around her sore tongue. “What’s next? You hook me up to a live wire? Or do you want to feed me to some hungry sharks and see what happens?”

Bitterness colored her tone, but after the pain she’d gone through, they were lucky she wasn’t trying to tear them limb from limb. Pain wasn’t an adequate word for what she’d experienced, and even agony fell short.

“You go back to the Underworld,” Yin said with a shrug of her shoulders.

Nina’s expression was incredulous at best. She couldn’t believe that after everything, bringing her back to life or whatever they did, telling her she was pregnant with the future of everything, and then unleashing her powers, they were just going to let her walk out. It seemed too good to be true.

“What’s the catch?” Nina asked with a smile, remembering another time when she’d asked the same question.

“There is no catch,” Yin and Yang said simultaneously before looking over at each other and sharing a heated glance.

Nina’s lips quirked. It was strange to think that the masters of the universe, the creators of humans and reapers and earth could still be hot for each other after, well, forever. It was amazing and gross all at once, because Nina was pretty sure they would have just stripped and started going like rabbits if she hadn’t been there.

“Ahem.” She cleared her throat to draw their attention. “There’s always a catch. So, what is it?”

Yang folded his arms and cocked his head. “There doesn’t have to be a catch for everything, Nina. If you stay here nothing will change, and change is the only thing we want.”

Nina tried to think of a way it could all come back to bite her, but for the life of her she couldn’t think of a way. They’d been, more or less, forthcoming with information. They hadn’t lied to her, and they hadn’t exactly locked her up and kept her prisoner. All in all, Yin and Yang were perhaps the best mad scientist gods she’d ever met, and completely different from what she’d thought they’d be.

Looking at them now, it wasn’t hard to imagine the pair cooking with the cosmos and adding a little too much of this or that and just creating a galaxy. It was weird, but the fact that they were approachable and nice made it easier for Nina to believe them.

Shaking her head at how bizarre she sounded, Nina decided to take them at their word and hope that she wasn’t making a huge mistake. “So you’ll send me home to Grim--to the Underworld?” Nina clarified, wanting to get all her ducks in a row.

“Yes. You’ll go back through--” Yin waved a hand and a giant mirror sprang up from the flowers. “--this.”

Nina stared at the ornate carvings, remembering a similar mirror in the Bloodspurn castle. This way bigger, though, much bigger.

“A portal?” Nina asked.

“The first one,” Yang said and moved to trace the intricate patterns around the frame with his fingertips.

Squaring her shoulders, Nina went to the mirror and stuck her hand in, feeling it give just like the one in the castle. Turning away from the mirror, she faced Yin and Yang. “I would say this was a nice visit, but I’d be lying.” Nina’s voice was serious, her eyes sharp as she watched their faces. “I’m not an idiot, and I know there is a lot more going on here than either of you are telling me.”

Nina lowered her eyes, and took a menacing step towards them. “Remember this: if you’ve lied to me in any way, if you’ve hurt my child in any way, if you’ve done
anything
wrong, there will be no place in any universe you can hide.” She drew out the words and put all the strength that she’d gathered over the past three months into them.

Nina stared at them for long moments. She wasn’t making idle threats; if it was in her power, she’d make them suffer if they screwed her over. If she could overcome a serial killer father, a bitchy princess, stuck up guards, and life in the Underworld, she could overcome anything.

But surprisingly, Yin and Yang didn’t look angry or even smug. If anything, they looked proud of her pronouncement, like they knew she wasn’t kidding, knew she would do it, and were just… waiting.  

Nina shook her head ruefully, wondering why she was even surprised. Yin and Yang were as close to gods as anything could get. They were scientists, creators, the beginning, the end, and everything in between. They didn’t play by conventions rules.

For a split second, Nina forgot that she had just threatened them, forgot that they’d put her through the worst pain imaginable, she forgot everything and just looked at them like everyday people. In another life, she could have seen them as her teachers, maybe even parents. They had the mentality of knowing everything, and simultaneously, of knowing nothing at all. In another life, she might have even liked them, maybe trusted them.