Grim Business

Chapter Twelve

It took some major explaining when Ethan came to and found Phoebe and her father there, embracing one another with no sign of the wolf in sight. If Phoebe wasn’t so overwhelmed, she probably would have been embarrassed in all honesty. In the end, her father did most of the talking. He was a surprisingly convincing liar, which told her all she needed to know about this whole thing: he’d done this for a long time.

Once the explaining was out of the way, and Ethan was more or less satisfied, she said her goodbyes and followed her father through the woods. He had parked his car just off the side of the road, and they climbed in once they got there. Phoebe felt numb all over as she buckled her seatbelt and relaxed into the seat. There were no words for most of the ride, just a sort of  hollow exhaustion that encompassed everything, from her body to her mind.

Eventually, they pulled into the driveway. Phoebe reached over to open the door on reflex, but her father’s voice stopped her. “Phoebe,” he said, an she turned to him. “We need to talk about this.”

“Can it wait until tomorrow?” Phoebe asked, slumping in the seat.

“No, it really can’t. You disobeyed me, you went to that party after I expressly forbade you to do so, and yet here you are, acting as if I’m the one who wronged you. I told you that the wolf—“

“Derek,” Phoebe corrected.

“Yes, Derek was still out there. He had your scent, he was hunting you specifically. I told you not to go anywhere; this house, it has protections built into it, fail-safes to keep nasty spirits out. I wasn’t trying to ruin your social life—“

“No, but you lied to me. You didn’t tell me that the wolf was Derek, that it was after me. You let me think that it was just a regular wolf. So yes, you did wrong me. I had a right to know, Dad.” Phoebe reached for the door again, and this time she managed to get it open and she stormed towards the front steps of the house. When she counted the steps as she always did, she couldn’t help but wonder if the number 13 was specifically meant to keep those spirits out, if it was part of the fail-safes her dad had spoken about. Nothing felt the same, not anymore.

Christopher followed her, calling out to her, but she ignored him as she unlocked the front door and stepped inside, toeing her shoes off and starting up the stairs. Her dad reached out and caught her elbow, pulling her back down and maneuvering her so that she was facing him. His hands were tight on her shoulders, preventing her from moving. “Phoebe, listen to me. What I did, I did to protect you. This is what I meant, when I said I kept the balance. This is my job—I take care of spirits that didn’t move on when they were supposed to. I send souls to their immortal rest.”

“So, what, you’re some kind of weird grim reaper?” Phoebe asked, half-joking.

“Yes, actually,” Christopher said, and that silenced her. He sighed. “Let’s just get some hot cocoa and chat, alright? I even have peppermint, your favorite.”

Phoebe thought about it. She was torn—on the one hand, she was pissed at her father for lying to her. On the other, she really wanted to know everything she possibly could about this. It was important, she knew. “Fine,” she consented, and he led her to the kitchen.

Phoebe took a seat at the dining room table as he busied himself making the cocoa; she had a lot to think about, but for some reason, her mind went to right before Derek the Wolf showed up and interrupted then. She had been about to kiss Ethan…and after tonight, she doubted she’d ever get the opportunity again.

Christopher returned, setting the hot cup of cocoa in front of her. She stirred it with the peppermint stick he had put in it, then looked at her father. “So, let’s chat. Tell me more about being a grim reaper.”