Battling Monsters and Other F'd Up Dates

TROPES: Supernaturals galore, slow-burn romance with plenty of tension, secret society, found family, positive female friendships, grumpy sunshine, brother's best friend, small town murder mystery.

Just when I think things are finally starting to calm down, I come face-to-face with my long-lost twin.Turns out, being a Daughter of Death is a whole lot more than just kicking ass and taking names.

There are things like rules… and responsibilities.
Oh yeah, and let’s not forget the monster that’s killed me in all my past lives. That’s a thing, too.

There’s also this teensy little problem: James may be gone, but the distrust he created in the supernatural community is still very much alive. With the tensions between Council members bleeding into Farrow’s Square, it’s only a matter of time until someone does something crazy.

Now I gotta figure out what my twin wants, learn about my super badass death powers, kill a monster, and stop a war. It sounds like a piece of cake. Speaking of cake…

This whole thing started over a Hostess cupcake. Do I dare hope it can end with one?
You bet your ass, I do.

 __

This is the last book in the Grimm Brotherhood series. This series must be read in order.

My speedometer inched near one hundred twenty. I let out a low whistle under my breath as I beat my hands against the steering wheel like drums, Duran Duran drowning out my thoughts.

The faded sign welcoming me to Farrow’s Square shrunk to the size of a pinprick in my rearview mirror. I whipped around a sharp curve with a quick stomp on the brakes and screech of my wheels. The sign disappeared entirely.

Singing at the top of my lungs, a murder of crows scattered before me. I flipped them the bird as I floored it toward town. The Appalachian Mountains and roadkill were all I’d seen for the past few hours as I hightailed it back to the place I swore I’d never return to.

I should have known better.

Never say never.

It’s a great way to tempt fate.

And mine? She was a bitch.

My right hand slipped from the wheel as I reached to my passenger seat, patting it until I found my purse. My eyes flicked between the road and the tattered multicolor monstrosity my best friend bought me for my eighteenth birthday four years ago.

My hand latched onto something smooth. I pulled it out.

Mascara.

“Ugh,” I groaned under my breath as I tossed it in the back. Trying again, I pushed the crap aside, rummaging with half my attention until I felt the crinkle of smooth plastic.

“Yes,” I purred, pulling it out.

The golden wrapper of a condom was not what I was looking for.

“Motherfucker,” I muttered, tossing that in the back too.

Third time’s a charm. Isn’t that what everyone says? I rolled with it, cruising down the highway and going straight past the little town I’d grown up in. My house was still a half-hour out and the thick rain clouds overhead didn’t encourage me to stop when I had the top down on my convertible BMW.

Resigned to carrying on, I reached for the purse again, feeling around for the pack of Hostess cupcakes I know I put in there. My hands just found purchase when something ran into the road.

Large and furry. It skidded across my periphery, coming to stop in my lane.

I dropped the cupcakes and slammed on the brakes. My hands moved on the wheel, trying to dodge, but it was too late.

The last thing I saw before the car flipped were red eyes staring straight at me.

I didn’t even have time to scream as my car went airborne. It careened to the side; the wheels unable to hold their grip any longer.

My brain rattled, and my heart squeezed as the world turned over.

Something crunched. Pain erupted everywhere. Stars exploded behind my eyes.

And then, it all went black.

All for some fucking Hostess cupcakes.

* * *

When my eyes opened, I was not a Salem pancake as I’d expected. Not a crazy assumption given the open convertible doing somersaults down the highway. You know, that and the pain. I wasn’t even on the road anymore. 

Blinking a few times, I looked around at the scattered trees and clear night sky. I was standing in some kind of forest.

“The fuck?” I asked, craning my neck as I tried to figure out where I was, let alone how I’d gotten there.

“You can’t stay here,” a voice whispered behind me.

I jumped and spun; arms already lifted to defend myself when I faltered. The girl was about twelve with an old-timey grace that felt way too out of place for Farrow’s Square. Her hair was a dark curtain that hung down her back, her dress some kind of antique black lace that covered her from neck to ankle. And she was pale, with black eyes that were far too old for her young face. 

There was no way I was going to let some kid from the Addams family know she’d just scared the ever-living crap out of me. 

“Listen, Morticia, you don’t just sneak up on people in the middle of the woods. That’s a good way to go and get yourself killed.”

She blinked, a smile tilting up her lips. It was the creepiest fucking thing I’d ever seen. “That’s not my name.”

I scowled at her, anger swiftly replacing my fear. “Like I give two shits, kid.”

“You need to go back.”

“Back where?”

She lifted a hand, pointing in the direction of poor Bassy; my car was a mess of smoke and flame. “It’s not safe for you to stay here.”

“And you think a pile of burning metal is safer?”

She didn’t move, her body inhumanly still as she stared at me. “It’s not time for you to walk the in-between,” she tried again when I still hadn’t taken a step in the direction she pointed. “If you don’t go back, someone else will claim what you have abandoned.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” A normal person might have phrased that differently, but these days I had three modes: angry Salem, hungry Salem, and super angry Salem. Nowhere in there was there room for a filter. 

Not-Morticia scowled at me, taking two steps forward to shove me in the direction of the crumpled mess that used to be my car. “Go. Now!”

I felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over me. I gasped, struggling to catch my breath as my mind was suddenly filled with memories that weren’t mine. Before I had time to process anything, she pointed at something that lay prone beside the car.

Not something. Someone.

A body.

My body.

There was no missing the bubblegum pink hair matted with blood. 

“You need to go back,” Not-Morticia hissed. “They’re coming.”

Had I been looking at anything other than what could only be called my corpse, I might have thought to ask her who was coming, but instead, I started walking toward my body, drawn to it like a magnet.

Soon I was on my knees, looking up at the girl like she could tell me how it were possible that I was both dead and yet alive. 

“Go back,” she said again, her voice so much older than her face. “Your answers wait for you on the other side.”

Not knowing what else to do, I lifted my hand and rested it on top of my shoulder.

My chest constricted, and I gasped. My eyes flew open, and I was no longer staring down at myself, but up at the sky.

Deep breaths, I thought to myself as I started to hyperventilate.

I was dead. I was so dead. Then I wasn’t.

I looked down at my body. Scratches tore through my clothes. Dried blood made the material cling to me uncomfortably. I peeled my shirt up, trying to get a look at the damage. Despite the amount of blood and dirt stuck to me, my skin was smooth and even.

I let out a shaky breath.

Was I hallucinating?

I looked sideways at my car. My beautiful fucking car that was now totaled.

Nope. I was not hallucinating.

Slowly I moved to my feet, running through my options.

I could call my aunt, assuming I could find my phone, and maybe she could come pick me up. The only problem with that was that I looked like a dead person because I had been—and now I wasn’t.

Weird things did happen all the time, though. Miracles. They just didn’t usually happen to my family.

I scratched my head, and my stomach chose that moment to rumble. I put a hand to it, thinking back on those Hostess cupcakes. They sounded really good right now, and I’d definitely missed dinner.

I took a few slow steps toward the wreckage. Both sides of my car were slammed inwards. If not for the lack of a top it wouldn’t be accessible at all. However, if I climbed carefully over the sharp, jagged sides, there was a chance I would be able to rummage around to see if the cupcakes were still there.

I patted my pockets to see if my phone was on me so I could use the flashlight.

Being hungry and newly-not-dead called for desperate measures.

Like eating before I decided how I planned to explain this.

Luckily for me, my phone was still in my pocket. I pressed my thumb down to open it. The lack of signal had me unsure whether this was a good or bad thing. Either way, the flashlight worked.

Cupcakes, here I come.

I was just starting to maneuver over the edge of the wreckage when a voice behind me said, “What the hell are you doing?”

A squeak left me as I jumped, falling sideways into the decrepit remainder of my car. I grunted, sitting up. Intense fluorescent light shined right in my face. I swatted it away, and the flashlight went flying.

Without the blinding brightness, I could see clearly again. The stranger in front of me was quite a looker. Dark hair. High cheekbones and a strong jaw. Stubble and full lips. I blinked twice, questioning for a moment if it were somehow possible I was still dead.

Then the blue eyes hardened.

Definitely not dead, I decided again.

“Who the fuck are you?” I demanded, pulling myself to my feet.

“How about we start with what the fuck you’re doing trying to climb into a car that is on fire?” he snapped back.

My spine straightened, and my eyes narrowed. This guy might be hot, but I was not in the mood. Dying had a way of doing that to a girl. Besides, no one talked to me that way. I was Salem Fucking Kaine. My family practically owned this town. 

Before I could fire off my own vitriol-fueled reply, his eyes flared wide and he looked me up and down. “Wait . . . were you in there?”

Remembering the blood, I faltered. Lying wasn’t really my specialty, and with the way I looked right now, there really was no getting around it. 

“Yup,” I said, popping the p. Fuck it. It was the truth, after all.  

He blinked, glancing between me and the car like he could come up with a rational explanation for how I was still breathing. Finally, he lifted his icy eyes back to my face. His pupils flared, and his expression softened, just for a second. “Salem?”

My jaw went slack, and I started to take a step back before I caught myself. I definitely didn’t know this guy, and I hadn’t lived here for over four years. There was no reason he should know my name. Crossing my arms, I cocked a hip and stared up at him, silently demanding an explanation. I wasn’t stupid enough to give him more information without gathering some of my own.

“You’re Shep’s sister,” he said, his expression hardened once more. “You already missed the funeral. Why come back now?”

And there it was. The reason I was back in this shithole. Okay, it wasn’t a shithole. Not even close. But I hated it all the same. Ever since I’d crossed the state line into North Carolina, I’d practically choked on the memories that had consumed me. Each one crystalizing my anger and fueling my rage. Damnit, Shep. I fucking told you this would happen. 

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” I said.

He glared at me. “Don’t be too sure about that. I mean, I was there, and you weren’t, so—”

“Finish that sentence. I dare you.” The guy had a good six inches on me, maybe more. And his bicep was about the size of my thigh. Didn’t mean I would hesitate to kick him straight in the dick. He might be bigger than me, but a good nut shot was the world’s best equalizer. 

A muscle ticked in his jaw. He looked about as angry as I felt, but the anger wasn’t directed at me. He let out a sharp exhale and glanced away, staring hard at my car.

“Do you need a ride?”

“Uh . . .” I let out a shallow laugh. “I’m not about to get in a strange dude’s car.”

“I’m hardly a stranger, Salem. Shepard was my best friend.” He said it like it should mean something to me. 

I blinked at him. What did he want? A medal? Or maybe a cookie . . . I got a little distracted at the thought of cookies, my growling stomach taking that moment to make itself known.

“I might have a bag of M&M’s in my car . . .” he said slowly. 

I narrowed my eyes. “Really? Like that makes it any better?” I asked incredulously. “You’re literally the fucking candy man—”

“Yeah, well, you totaled your car and you look dead on your feet. I can hear your stomach rumbling. Shepard said you were really into anything chocolate. Since you want to be a brat about this, I figured I could—”

“What?” I threw both hands up. “Lure me away with candy? Hmm? Did it ever occur to you that I might be waiting on someone?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest once more.

“In the woods? By yourself? While you’re doing god knows what in the car…” He lifted an eyebrow, giving me a condescending look.

I growled under my breath. Of all the people to come across me on my first hour back, it had to be this dickwad.

This was exactly what I meant about my family and miracles. Blessings didn’t come without a curse. It looked like my way out of here was sexy as all get out and apparently knew my brother. Then he opened his mouth, and all I could think about were better ways to put it to use.

I ran a hand through my hair, already having forgotten the dried blood that made it stick together. My fingers snagged, and I cursed under my breath.

“Look,” he said, letting out a sigh. “You’ve clearly had a rough night. I can just give you a ride back to your aunt’s if you want. It’s gotta be better than waiting out here all night until some rando trucker drives through and maybe gives you a ride back to town where you have enough service to actually make a call.” He lifted both hands in surrender and inclined his head.

I pressed my lips together, debating it.

Unfortunately for me, he wasn’t wrong.

“Fine,” I said, moving away from what was left of my car. My black combat boots touched the forest floor and a pop from plastic exploding followed by a squish made my heart sink. Lifting my foot, I looked down where I’d just stepped.

Two smushed Hostess cupcakes spilled out of their crappy plastic wrapping.

“Ugh,” I growled under my breath, my fists clenching as I realized what I’d done.

Stranger Danger beside me cocked his head. “You’re pissed about stepping on shitty processed junk food more than your car? Or, I don’t know—the injuries you likely have?”

“Shelve the judgment, dude. I can’t control my totaled car. That ship has sailed. I can’t change that I look like I was in a car accident and thrown from the fucking car.” His eyes flashed with something, but I ignored it. “I can’t even control the fact that I’m hungry because I missed dinner. Or how shit my life is right now. All I could control was finding and eating those fucking cupcakes until I figured out what I was going to do.” I was shouting at a guy who looked like a god and that I did not know in the slightest, but I was at my wit’s end tonight. “And apparently—I can’t even fucking do that!”

He studied me, and it felt like his eyes could see straight through me. I couldn’t recall a time I ever felt more exposed. “Come on; I think I have a jacket you can borrow in the car.”

Something in his tone took away the fight in me. I was tired, and I really didn’t have a better choice.

“Okay,” I grumbled. “But there better be some M&M’s.”

He smirked.

“Don’t even think about getting handsy,” I warned him, giving him the side-eye. Not that I would mind. The guy looked like he knew what to do with his hands. I just felt better saying it.

He actually laughed at me. “In your dreams, Salem Kaine.”

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