The Wailing Woman

59. My Calligraphy

TW: Mention of self-harm

Grimm summons his scythe out of the shadows without so much looking at it as his hand curls tightly around the steel pole. The end of it slams hard against the floor, dispersing the darkness back into the corners of the room. I wince at the echo. My head was still throbbing from the spirits' foretellings. Many are going to die tonight. I pushed myself off the wall and slightly wobbled toward Grimm.

His silver curved blade was caught in the moonlight, looming over him as something more fearsome than Death himself. He might've created the weapon. but it was clear the scythe itself was an incarnation of judgment. "All I wanted was one night without interruptions," Grimm said, as he then asked politely while holding a murderous gaze. "Is that pretty head of yours okay?" I would've snorted but given the foreboding we just experienced, it seemed inappropriate. I settled for tapping my head on the side as an indication that my skull was still intact.

Grimm nods and promptly turns, "Good. Let's go see this through and settle it." He marches toward the door with furious steps.

I've never seen Grimm so upset. He was bothered by the people dying tonight, but it's not any different from any other night or day of people dying. Grimm has a complicated job of never being able to have the day off. He understands and knows this. Still, I followed after him with a somewhat steady breath. Nervousness was slowly trickling into my stomach. I couldn't think of any reason why so many people would die tonight. The spirits' predictions were muddled together as if they were bickering sisters. But I had heard something else before the spirits spoke of anything. A wounded beast roaring in agony, raw and malevolent. I shudder.

I thought about the guests, maybe they drank poison or inhaled sickness. What could kill so many people? Grimm swung the door open, and there stood his most loyal demon. Hans' perfectly blond hair was undone and his chest was heaving as if he had run a marathon. But as unusual he kept his impassive face. "They're coming for her." He said out of breath, then turned his gaze to mine. "And they have your friend." My heart stopped.

"Explain," Grimm commanded.

Hans steeled his spine barely meeting his height. "Another witch saw Miss Arslan and questioned her attendance at this party. When she tried to lie, the witch forced the truth out of her. She knows the daughter of Nicolás is here and has alerted other witches and warlocks nearby." He inhales sharply, "They're probably here already."

Gone was the nervousness I felt, and only my anger was on the rise. Dilara wasn't supposed to be here. She wasn't meant to be involved in any of this. Dilara was on a sabbatical in Oregon disguised as punishment for making the son of a higher authority warlock lose his fingers. She had been away from her family for over a year without communication until my father recently gave her a message from her family. She is meant to be reunited with them in Istanbul in a few days but now...

My mind swirled as I thought about the first time I met Dilara. If she hadn't met me or known me since the beginning, she would've been fine. But my loneliness has now put her life in danger. Dilara Arslan will not die today. I will trade another life, even my life if I must but she is not going to die today.

"Where is she? Where did they take her?" I insisted, harsh and cold.

The demon answers thoroughly. "I last saw her in the foyer, but before I left, the witch conjured a pair of—" he swallows, "restraints. She is magicless." Hans spits out quickly, too quickly. "I can break them." Grimm shot him a brief questioning look.

Dilara was strong with and without her magic. She is preserving flame. No matter how strong the wind blows, she burns more. But the more time I wasted standing in front of Grimm and Hans, I couldn't help but think about what they would do to Dilara. The witch was now aware of my existence, and an association with the daughter of a 'mad warlock' I doubted they would let her ever see her family again. But I won't let that happen. No more separations.