“It’s enough to go off of,” Grim said. “Between your profession and your first name along with this,” he sneered at Devon’s prone form, “young man, we have all we need to dig up the rest.”
Meeting his level gaze, I asked the obvious question. “Why would a master vampire want a bounty hunter?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “But we’ll find out.”
I walked out of Devon’s apartment with purposeful strides, though I wasn’t looking where I was going. I felt numb. My past was about to be unlocked.
What, did I really think I was some big shot police detective? It didn’t matter. But there was someone out there who missed me, needed me, was searching for me. Someone, or several someones, were up all night with worry, wondering where I was, and I would find them.
* * *
Grim was right.It took little time for Timothy to uncover my identity. From the moment we pulled up to the address registered under my name, I understood why I thought I was a baker. I lived in an apartment directly above a business called “The Cupcakery.”
I didn’t have my key but breaking the lock was simple. I stood at the threshold, hesitant to enter. The smell of freshly baked cakes and sugar saturated my place. The moon was full and bright, lighting up the room so much I didn’t bother turning on the light. I couldn’t help thinking how the apartment was dead, like me. I didn’t want to disturb that.
This was where I would find answers, maybe have my memory jogged. Or perhaps, the part of me that lived in this place had also died and no amount of rooting around in my past would return my sense of self. The urge to turn around and get back into Grim’s car almost overwhelmed me. He’d driven here this time instead of using the limo. It would be too conspicuous in this part of town.
Despite my reservations, I forced myself to step inside. There was no walking away now.
Grim followed me in but stood by the door as if sensing I needed a minute.
It was a studio apartment with white walls and old appliances. A quick look in my fridge unveiled some expired yogurts while my freezer was packed frozen meals and ice cream. In the cupboards there was a cup of ramen and two mugs. One was in the shape of a unicorn with a chip out of one side. The other had a bunch of skulls on it and it read “Death before Decaf.” I side-eyed Grim, who raised an eyebrow. He could see it from where he was standing.
My rickety oak table had two mismatched chairs, and the full mattress sat in the corner on the ground. At least it was covered in bright purple flowered bedding. It was one of the most cheerful things I’d ever bought.
It was coming back to me. Memories returned to me with every step I took in my old place. A stack of paperbacks, fifteen books high, sat next to my bed in a precarious tower.
“No family photos,” Grim said, his voice low and rumbly, somehow appropriate for the quiet of the room. He was backlit by the light on the stairs as he leaned against the door jamb.
“I don’t have family.” I touched the table illuminated by a ray of moonlight. Something in my chest twisted with sharp disappointment. “Or, not family I’ve talked to in a long time. My parents died when I was young. I went to live with my aunt and uncle. We didn’t get along. They wanted me to act a certain way, to fit their perfect life, and I wanted to live on my own terms.”
I waited for him to say something snarky, but he refrained. Must have damn near killed him.
Over the last couple weeks, I’d imagined every possibility from being a police officer, a scientist trying to cure cancer, to a baker with a husband and a couple kids.
The reality was small, grim, and depressing compared to all my theories. Worse yet, I was alone. No family, no friends. No one had missed me. I’d been missing for over two weeks, and no one was around enough to think anything of it. Part of me used to like that. I could come and go as I pleased without answering to anyone.
But when my memory was erased, I’d painted pictures of what I wanted my life to look like. I did something important, and I was surrounded by people who loved me. The reality did not measure up. I set a hand on the table, holding myself up against the sinking, sucking feeling at my center.
I breathed in the smell of sugar and cake to calm myself. Touching the charm at my neck, I remembered the bakery owner downstairs had given it to me for my birthday one year, along with my favorite cupcake. Her name was Cheri, and she was always nice to me and made good coffee. We weren’t close enough to be considered friends, but in my mind we were. She was the closest thing I knew to a friend but going in every week for something sweet didn’t exactly constitute a real relationship. In her eyes, I was a regular. Still, the necklace meant more to me than she knew.
“I’ve been a bounty hunter for three years.” I continued to stroke the dented and marred wood of the table. “Before that, it had been a string of shitty, odd jobs. But I’d finally found something that truly suited me.”
“Hunting people?” Grim asked, finally straightening.
“Yeah,” I said, musing. “What does that say about me?”
Grim walked over to stand on the other side of the table from me. Shadows still covered his face, and I was grateful I couldn’t see his expression. The god of death himself must have felt so debased to step into such a small, shitty abode.
“It means whatever you want it to.”
I snorted. “I live like a trash panda, hunt sketchy criminals for a living, and no one noticed I was missing.”
Grim rounded the table and caught my chin in his hand, taking me by surprise. “You are not judged by what you do, or even how loved you were. What matters is that you lived in a way that was true to your soul.”
The moonlight hit his eyes, turning them into liquid amber. Then I felt as though we were encased in a bubble. There was safety and warmth in our private pocket. No matter he was the most lethal being on Earth, the need to step fully into his arms was overwhelming. I wanted to melt into Grim. Let him kiss me senseless even if he killed me when he was done.
I spent so much time keeping people at a distance since my parents died, even though I told myself I wanted it that way. But these last few days, forced to be his prisoner, we’d come to understand each other. Granted, we annoyed and infuriated each other, but there was a seed of intimacy at its center.
