Can't Fight Time Ch. 02

Hey Everyone!

Next chapters up! Hope you like!

-Rosi

***

Nina twisted her wrist, pushed open her front door, and rushed inside then turned the lock back until she heard the snip of the tumbler fall into place. Another note to self: don't do any creepy, dangerous things like sleep outside at 1:30 in the morning!

Pushing away from the door, Nina let out a relieved sigh before she threw her bag on the couch, kicked off her shoes, and made her way to the kitchen where the scent of slightly burnt pizza wafted out in waves.

"Hey, Dad," Nina chirped as she entered the kitchen, not all that surprised to see her father up. The man had strange hours as a security guard, and would often come home in the middle of the night craving food. And after her mother passed away, that food was mainly in boxes and usually frozen.

"Little Boo, you're home late. Were you studying?" her father asked as he slipped on an oven mitt and pulled out the pizza.

Biting her lip, Nina went to the sink to wash up. Her stomach growled letting her know that she'd skipped lunch and dinner. A spot of red on her father's sleeve caught her eye, and Nina grabbed a paper towel, ran it under the tap until it was damp and then went to him and began dabbing at the spot.

"No, I fell asleep at the chapel. Knocked out cold, but this nice guy woke me up. Dad, you really need to stop making such a mess! I swear, every time you come home you have another stain on your clothes," she chastised her father, as she got most of the stain out and threw the paper towel in the trash.

She went over to the kitchen drawer, pulled out a knife and began to cut the pizza. Her father was quiet beside her, and Nina cast him a curious look over her shoulder. "Something wrong?"

Her father's emerald eyes were narrowed, his voice strained. "You said that a guy woke you up?"

She paused, knife half-way across the pizza. Carefully, Nina placed the knife on the counter and turned to her father, the mood in the small kitchen taking on an almost dangerous edge. She'd known this would happen. Why did you mention it then? her inner voice questioned in an exasperated voice.

The faded yellow walls of the kitchen seemed to draw closer to Nina, boxing her in as she looked at her father's carefully controlled face. "Yes, but he left right after. He was just being nice and—"

Her father slammed his hands on the counter, and the sound made Nina jump nearly out of her skin. "You know I don't like you with other men," Slowly, disdainfully, he whispered the words through his teeth, "But you always push me, Nina. Push me to the point of doing something I would regret."

She stood her ground, keeping herself in a non-threatening position. After Nina's mother had passed, her father had broken and never been able to piece himself completely back together. She'd learned through trial and error that when he got like this, he was more like an animal than a man. Remaining absolutely still with no sudden movements and a relaxed, even tone was the best thing for her to do.

"I need you to calm down, Dad. I can't talk to you when you're like this," Nina said clearly, her voice serene, betraying none of the fear that lurked just beneath the surface. "Why don't we take a deep breath, hmm?"

***

From the backyard of the house, hidden in the shadows, Grim watched the exchange between father and daughter. He leaned against a magnolia tree in their backyard, staring through the dusty window at the pair. He'd been watching Nina for a while now, and knew it was only a matter of time before her father finally ended her life.

Grim brushed a stray leaf off his shoulder as he watched Nina work through her father's volatile mood, trying to calm him down and bring him back from the murderous brink that he seemed to be at constantly. How many times have I seen this now? Too many times to count. It was a miracle her father hadn't just killed her already. Grim knew the man couldn't last much longer. Murderers, just like addicts, were always looking for the next high, the next kill to make them feel whole and alive again. He'd been studying humans for years, learning their patterns, anticipating their actions. It made the Collectors' job easier, allowed them to slip into the human word just a second before or after a humans death and then leave with their soul back to the Underworld.

The Underworld, Hell, Hades, there was a name in every culture of the world for his home yet few cultures truly depicted it correctly. A mirror image of the human world, the Underworld was just that, a world apart from the humans. It was neither purgatory nor an Eden. It was not a place for humans, but for reapers. Yet, because reapers had nothing besides the human world to use as comparison, they recycled the souls of animals and plants to use in their landscape, modeled mountains and deserts after Earth's marvels. There was no point in going to different planets, traipsing through different galaxies. They needed souls to exist, needed the power those souls provided to live. Just like vampires feed off blood, and zombies feed off flesh, so too did reapers feed off the energy stored in all souls.

Grim returned his attention to Nina, and smiled at the way she handled and controlled her father's mood. She's strong. Stronger than I thought, he acknowledged proudly as he stepped out of the shadows and walked through the back wall into the house's kitchen. He noted the sudden condensation on the wall he passed through and watched a chill snake up both Nina and her father.

"Dad, I need you to stay with me. Look in my eyes... keep looking..." she chanted softly to her father, still as a statue.

Grim moved swiftly, more out of habit than necessity, and took a seat in one of the kitchen chairs, his eyes never straying from Nina. Even after months of similar behavior, it still bothered him to see her like this, walking on eggshells around the man who she should have been able to lean on. Goose flesh ran across her arms, and made Grim smile. It was a small consolation for him that even though Nina could not see him, her body could still feel his presence in the room.

Not that it makes a difference, either way. Grim forced himself to be impassive, stifle the emotions trying to push to the surface. He ignored the blood that coated his palms from his digging his nails in, and the blood that flowed over his tongue as he bit down hard on his lip. They were involuntary actions, things he couldn't stop because somehow he'd developed more than a simple affinity for the human.

Sending his power out, Grim felt a brief tingle before his wounds healed. Sometimes he forgot that his human body was a perfect replica of its counterpart. When Grim hurt himself, he felt pain and saw blood. It was only a flash, barely anything in the grand scheme of his life, but it was a small price to pay for the form because the alternative had always felt... strange to him. Even though reapers were made from human bone and magic, to actually don his bones, cloak, and scythe felt uncomfortable. It felt more natural to Grim to have flesh. It was one more thing he'd inherited from his mother, one more thing that made him unlike most other reapers.

Despite the fact that Nina couldn't see him, Grim felt more... comfortable in his human form around her. He wasn't sure what it was, but being around the woman made him feel more like himself. He didn't understand the sensations the human girl inspired in him, didn't understand why it mattered so much. Running a tired hand through his hair, Grim turned back to Nina and her father, the sudden feeling of violence in the room disappearing like smoke.

"I'm sorry, Nina," her father said, a note of apprehension in his tone.

"It's fine, Dad." Nina smiled comfortingly and changed the subject. "Are you still hungry?"

Smart girl, Grim acknowledged, watching as they each grabbed a piece of pizza and sat down at the table. Neither of them took the seat he was sitting in. It was that sixth sense humans refused to document as anything but a fable. Even though they could not see him, they subconsciously knew he was there, felt his presence.

"I'm really tired, Dad. So I'm gonna hit the hay," Nina gave her father a quick kiss on the cheek and then hurried out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Only Grim could see the twisted look Nina's father gave her retreating back, one of self-loathing and lust. He knew the cause of both emotions, had collected the souls of thirteen women who loved similar to Nina and her mother. For months, Grim had watched the name hunt down women, take them to secluded areas and have sex with them, kiss them, and for a brief moment love them. But that moment faded quickly, and death soon followed. Nina's father had a pattern, had a signature, and a type.

Grim could still remember the color of Nina's mother's soul. Adrienne's had been a brilliant turquoise dotted with flecks of lilac. It had been an interesting combination, one he'd never seen in a very long while, relief with spots of anger. The colors had left an impression on him, and before Grim knew it, he went to Adrienne's home. Something inside of him was curious as to those particular emotions. When he had found her body, broken in an alley way, his interest had been piqued.

Nina, a young girl devastated by her mother's murder, crushed, did not weep or shed one tear. When Grim had seen her for the first time she'd been dressed in black laughing and smiling at a funeral, her mother's funeral. Beautiful. That had been Grim's first thought. And when her hands shook, and water collected in her eyes but did not fall, Grim had seen her strength. Nina didn't grieve; she celebrated her mother's life in the way her mother would have wanted.

He watched Nina's father grab another slice of pizza and eat it. A pinch of pain in his hands reminded Grim that his emotions were nearing the surface again. Grim knew men like Nina's father all too well, and despite whatever happened in his life to cause him to become like this, murder was still murder.

Rising from his seat, Grim turned away from the man and made his way up the stairs to Nina's room. He walked through the door, and immediately turned to her bed. What he saw there made blood pool heavily in his mouth, made him clench his fists so tight he heard bones breaks.

Nina was curled on her side, feigning sleep with a metal bat clutched tightly in one hand. Grim spun away, but his eyes caught on the door. A number of locks lined the seam of her bedroom door though some looked like they had been broken off.

It was his first time in her room. Usually he waited in the hallway when he came to see her, a kind of courtesy he provided her. As he looked around the room, Grim felt his temper rise, emotions he's tried to keep in check bubble to the surface. This? This is how she lives?

His power leaked out and saturated the room. From the bed, Grim heard teeth chattering, and saw small shudders rack Nina's form. Calming his raging emotions, Grim composed himself. Reaching forward, he placed his power into the locks, fortifying them against any intruders. If her father really wished her dead there was little he could do, but if the man only wanted to sneak in, then the locks would hold.

Effortlessly, he moved towards the bed and laid on the comforter next to Nina. Grim wrapped his arms around her curled form, suppressing as much of his power as he could. "Sleep, Amica," Grim whispered, knowing that she could not hear him because he remained invisible.

Yet she began to relax slowly, as if she knew she was being protected. For the first time in his many long centuries of existence, Grim wished that he was not a reaper. He wished he was a human and could do more for Nina than help her pass on when she was ultimately murdered.

But life was never fair, for reapers or humans.

"Sleep." Grim cast his voice to her, power laced through the word. Within a second she was in a deep slumber, leaving him to wonder why, after countless centuries of existence, he was choosing now to have a bleeding heart.