Grimm Consequences (4 page)

“We need to tell Al,” Tess informed me as we drove to FMA headquarters the next morning.

I shook my head, my jaw tightening. “You know that's not an option.”

“You're his friend, Nate,” she insisted. “He's not going to out you to the rest of the Tales.”

“How do you know that?” I demanded. “Al is always going to do what's best for the Tales. Do you really think he'll just shrug it off when he finds out that a person he depends on, a person he trusts, is a total fraud?”

“You're not a fraud,” she shot back, her cheeks flushing as if she was already testifying in my defense. “Okay, so you did lie to his face—”

“Thanks, that's helpful.”

“—but you're definitely not a fraud. No one can argue that you're a Reaper.”

“No, I'm just not a Tale.”

“You have our signature,” she pointed out, referring to the unique aura that each Tale had that helped identify them to others of their kind.

“It's just as much of a fabrication as the rest of me,” I murmured.

“You can't
fake
that, Nate. You either have it or you don't.”

I squirmed a little, still uncomfortable with this line of conversation. Tess had forgiven me for keeping the truth of my origin from her, but every time I revealed a little more of the story, I found myself cringing, hating that I'd ever deceived her in the first place, bowing under my rediscovered conscience. “You can't
fake
it,” I admitted, “but you can
borrow
it.”

She blinked at me. Twice. “Come again?”

“So . . . remember that connection that binds me to the Tales?” I started out, trying to sound nonchalant. “The one that anchors me to you, specifically?”

She quirked a dark eyebrow at me. “Yeah . . .”

“Well, uh, so that actually gives me the appearance of a Tale,” I explained. “I basically am borrowing your Tale signature. That's why it looks a little odd. It has nothing to do with the fact that I'm a Reaper like everybody thinks.”

Now her eyes narrowed at me as she waited for what else I had to say. “And?”

I glanced over at her and shifted my grip on the steering wheel. “Well, that also helps me hold my form.”

“Sorry?”

I heaved a sigh and doffed my fedora, setting it on my lap. “Without a . . .
tether
to the world we inhabit, Reapers are spirits—and dark ones at that. We can hold a form of our choosing for a little while, but only for a few minutes. The shadows that haunt me, they're part of me, Tess—the part of me that I can't hold in this form. And sometimes . . . well, sometimes I slip, usually when I experience an intense emotional reaction. I lose control.”

When I glanced over to gauge her reaction, she was staring at me, her brows furrowed in a frown. I could tell by her expression that she was thinking about every time she'd seen the shadows around me gather in a direct reflection of my mood. “So last night,” she finally said, “when I saw . . .
something . . .
”

My heart sank. I could only imagine what she'd actually seen when I'd momentarily lost control, my concern for her safety overriding all other thoughts. “I'm sorry. I should've told you about this sooner. Tess, there are things about me . . .”

My words trailed off. God, the things that I knew I should tell her, wished I
could
tell her, about who I'd once been. True, the scars of penance I bore on my skin were a result of my disobedience, a direct reflection of the torture I'd experienced. But the scars on my soul went far deeper than anything the Judges could dole out. I didn't know that I'd ever be able to make amends for my past.

We rode the rest of the journey to FMA headquarters in silence. I was still brooding over my own thoughts when I pulled into a parking space and shut off the engine. I'm not sure how long I sat there, up in my own head, before Tess leaned over and pressed a kiss to my cheek.

“There'll be time to tell me everything. I promise.” She winked at me with a grin when I turned to look at her. “I'm not going anywhere, remember?”

As she grasped my lapels and pulled me to her for another kiss, I hoped like hell she was right.

 

 

Al Addin gave us a nod in greeting as he rose from his seat and came forward to meet us when we entered the courtroom. Mary “Contrary” Smith wasn't far behind him, peering disapprovingly at us from over the top of what Tess called her “naughty librarian” glasses.

Mary normally acted as the prosecutor for the FMA, representing the side of law and order when Tales got themselves in deep shit and had to face the consequences. But this time she was representing the FMA—or, more specifically, those of us who'd pissed off the Tribunal. And she didn't look like she was happy one damned bit about it.

“You're late,” Mary hissed through the faux smile she'd donned, making a show of shaking our hands and welcoming us to the proceedings. “The Tribunal will be arriving any second to give their decision.”

“So, sounds to me like we're right on time then,” Tess replied, giving Mary a friendly smack on the back as she passed.

Mary rolled her eyes. “I think I liked it better when she hated me,” she drawled before following Tess to our places at the defendants' table.

I made to follow, but Al stepped into my path. “Are you sure you're up to this?” he asked, keeping his voice low. “I can ask them to stay the proceedings until tomorrow, give you a little more time to recover.”

I was touched by his concern and felt like an even bigger ass for lying to him all these years. Tess was right. I should've confided in Al a long time ago. But too much time had passed now. “I'm good,” I assured him. “Hell, Al—I spent most of yesterday trying to track down a monster. I think I can handle hearing the Tribunal's decision about the disappearance of Sebille Fenwick's body.”

Al nodded. “Fair enough.” But before I could go, he grasped my arm. “Look, Nate. Sometimes I have to do things that piss people off, but you know it's for a greater good, right?”

I eyed him warily, wondering what the hell he was talking about. “Yeah, I know. Anything I should be worried about?”

“All rise.”

The sudden announcement from the court's bailiff cut our conversation short. I shared one last questioning look with Al before joining Tess. I briefly grasped her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Here we go.”

Tess glanced over her shoulder toward the door. “Where the hell's Trish?”

The five members of the Tribunal filed in, silent but for the quiet rustle of their black robes. Once they'd taken their places, the chairperson gave us a terse nod. “Please be seated.”

I found Tess's hand under the table and twined my fingers with hers.

Mary rose to her feet. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen of the Tribunal. I regret that we are still waiting for Trish Muffet to arrive. I ask your—”

“Ms. Smith,” the chairperson interrupted, “it appears you did not receive our memo earlier this morning. We have already absolved Trish Muffet of any negligence in the disappearance of the body of the sorceress, Sebille Fenwick.” The chairperson cast a glance at one of her fellow magistrates and cleared her throat. “Therefore we did not require her presence today.”

“Thank you, Madam Chairperson,” Mary stammered, casting a quick glance at Al, obviously as surprised by the Tribunal's decision as the rest of us. Al just gave her an almost imperceptible shrug. “I apologize for my ignorance of the matter.”

If Al and Mary hadn't had a hand in making sure Trish was cleared, I wondered who had. There were only a few people I knew who could've put some pressure on the Tribunal. Two of them didn't seem to know anything about it. The third had gone off-grid after Sebille had killed his wife, and no one had heard from him since.

“Now, to the matter at hand,” the chairperson continued. “We have reviewed this case extensively. After combing over all of the evidence provided by the Fairytale Management Authority as well as that provided by an independent investigative body, we were unable to find anyone at fault for the sorceress's disappearance. Therefore, we have no choice but to clear the defendants Nathaniel Grimm, Tess Little, and Al Addin of any dereliction of duty in this matter.”

Mary bowed her head. “Thank you, Madam Chairperson, members of the Tribunal.”

“We do, however, expect this matter to be looked into further, Director Addin,” the chairperson said, ignoring Mary. “This case is by no means closed.”

Al stood, smoothing the front of his suit jacket. “I could not agree more, Madam Chairperson. In fact, in order to more effectively allocate resources to such high-priority cases, I have decided to name an assistant director of the FMA who will oversee special task force operations. I hope you will join me in congratulating Enforcer Little in her promotion, which is effective immediately.”

“You've got to be fucking kidding me.”

Every head on the Tribunal snapped in unison in Tess's direction. “You have something to say, Enforcer Little?”

“Hell, yeah, I do,” Tess shot back, her cheeks flushing with anger as she launched to her feet and pegged Al with a furious glare. In a low voice she demanded, “What
the fuck,
Al?”

Al sent a diplomatic smile toward the Tribunal before turning toward Tess and grinding out, “Smile and nod and then say ‘thank you, Al' in front of all these nice people, Red. We'll discuss this later.”

“Damn right we will,” she muttered. Then, as ordered, she draped on a smile that, quite frankly, was a little frightening, before forcing out in a loud voice, “Thank you
so much,
Director Addin. I can't
wait
to talk to you more about this
incredible
opportunity.”

Tess's words must've been convincing enough for the Tribunal. The chairperson slammed her gavel, dismissing us all. The minute we were back in the hallway, though, Tess let loose on Al.

“What the hell?” she demanded. “You're taking me off the streets and shoving me behind a desk so I can get buried in bureaucracy? After all the years I've busted my ass with the FMA, this is how you thank me?”

“This isn't a punishment, Red,” Al said calmly, his placating tone only serving to make Tess more incensed. “It is precisely because of your many years of service that I want you as my assistant director. I wasn't just blowing smoke up the Tribunal's collective ass in there—I was serious. I need someone to oversee special task forces. You're too good to be tracking down bail jumpers and parole violators. The Sebille Fenwick case assured me of that.”

Tess huffed, shaking her head, but I could see the compliment had gone a long way in winning her over. Unfortunately, she wasn't quite there yet. “Fine, put me in charge of a special team or something, but
assistant director,
Al? Seriously? I have a reputation to uphold.”

I couldn't quite smother a smile.
Did she ever.
I opened my mouth to interject my own thoughts and congratulations on the matter, when a sudden movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. I glanced down the hall and felt my blood run cold when I saw what had drawn my attention.

“Son of a bitch,” I growled. I vaguely registered that my outburst had brought Al and Tess's conversation to an abrupt halt, but didn't stop to explain as I took off down the hall.

Demetrius gave me a taunting smile as he pivoted, unperturbed, and disappeared around the corner. I sprinted after him, not even caring about what kind of trap could be lying in wait. I just knew I wanted to catch that son of a bitch and demand to know what the hell he was up to.

I heard Tess calling for me, but I didn't stop. I couldn't. I had to catch that slimy bastard and figure out what his game was. I was going to get it out of him one way or another—and if it was with my hands wrapped around his throat, all the better.

But when I rounded the corner where he'd disappeared, the hallway was empty, the lights in this area still off at the early hour, leaving the black marble hallway shrouded in shadow. He'd vanished into the darkness.

Demetrius had never intended to confront me or interact with me at all. He was trying to psych me out, put me on edge, torture me a little with his pathetic game of cat and mouse before he finally moved in for the kill.

I heard a rhythmic pounding behind me and turned to see Tess running toward me. “What the fuck is going on?” she demanded, out of breath from chasing me down. “You shot off like a bat outta hell. What gives?”

I looked toward the dark end of the hall. “He was here.”

There was a beat of silence before she said, “Demetrius.”

I nodded and snatched my fedora from my head with a frustrated groan before wiping the sweat from my brow with my forearm.

Tess followed my line of sight, searching the darkness. “I thought the Judges only came at night.”

“They do,” I assured her. “He wasn't coming for me. He was letting me know how easily he could get to me, making it clear that nowhere's safe.”

Tess's phone suddenly rang, startling us both. She snatched it from her hip and frowned when she saw the number. “Hey, Gran. Aren't you supposed to be shooting your show?” Tess frowned at whatever Tilly Stuart had said. “How in the hell did you find out about my promotion already? I just heard—” She bit off her words and sent a venomous glance back down the hall where Al and Mary were sidling toward us. “You don't say? Well, yes, I'll have to thank Al for calling you right away to tell you the good news.”