I swallowed hard before I nodded my head. Grimm adjusts my thigh, I winced feeling the sting and stickiness of my soaked jeans. He presses his hand down around the wound and with his other free hand, he grasps to the hilt of the letter-opener. His gaze met mine but I looked away as he took it out.

Fast, smooth, and painful.

I gasp loudly as the pulsating blood surges and throbbing expands. I turn to Grimm and see him ripping my jeans while simultaneously tugging his black tie from his collar. My right leg was now exposed, his cool crimson hands soothed the hotness, and his thumb brushed over my inner thigh wiping a droplet of blood running down.

Grimm gently lifted my thigh as he wrapped the tie around my thigh. My heart quivered under the touches of satin, softness, coldness, and attentiveness. It should've felt wrong.

He was the God of Death, The Grim Reaper, The Capturer of Souls, and so many more names and titles but the moonlight presented him differently. The glow from the moon brought out the specs of blood scattered across his face but it could've been stardust and his inked hair could've been silk. Even the moon swayed in front of him. It was nice to know the moon and I were the same.

I squeezed my eyes shut, he severed someone's head, but when I opened my eyes again and saw him again, he severed someone's head for me, wicked hope infiltrated my heart. I wanted to see that, I really did.

I broke the silence. "Why-" I said in a scratchy whisper, "Why are you here? How are you here?"

He had finished wrapping the tie around my thigh but he kept his hands on my skin. I didn't say anything nor pulled away. Grimm's starless eyes met my sunken eyes, I'm waiting and waiting and waiting.

"Why wouldn't I be here?" My heart wavers and I let it happen until he speaks again, "Did you forget that you're supposed to stay alive to help me get my wings? " He gets up and moves from the moonlight, I blink trying to ignore how heavily tilted my heart feels.

It seems the dark-suited him better.

Grimm's voice becomes cold, "You can't recklessly stab yourself."

I bite the inside of my cheek letting the disappointment spiral into bitterness. I don't think I need the voices to be delusional, it seems I am perfectly capable of doing that all by myself. He only came here because he wants his wings back and I'm the only person who can give him his wings, and for that, he needs me alive. He wants his wings, he needs me.

In the wise words of the unknown headless corpse, Nobody is ever kind to you. Nobody listens to you. Nobody cares about you. Nobody wants you. Oh, how much I wished I had done more than make his ears bleed.

I returned the same hostility, "I didn't recklessly stab myself. I thoroughly thought it through," I pointed to the rolled-over head to my side, "and it worked until you made a mess."

His nostrils flared. "A mess? I did you a favor by ending that man's life."

"What favor? I didn't ask for any favors." I seethed.

Grimm roughly runs his hand through his inked hair, ruining his pushed-back hair as a few strands fall over his forehead. If he was any closer, I would ruin it some more. I slid my back against the wall when I noticed the door behind him was still closed. How did he get inside?

My eyes wandered around the apartment, everything was a mess. Clutters of broken glass shards flooded the floor, mixed with pools of blood, some of it being mine and the other from the corpse and then, there was a breeze. I looked over to my left, seeing more broken glass that came from the patio door.

Between the hues of blue, I saw my apartment look demolished and while Grimm stood in the dark, reality began to set in. Someone broke into my apartment and they tried to kill me. Someone who has power, easily broke into my apartment and others just like him can come into my apartment just as easily as he did.

"How did you get inside my apartment?" I ask hastily.

It was a stupid question but I needed something.

Grimm's jaw hardens. "I think we've other pressing matters to discuss, for instance, the warlock-"

"How the hell did you get inside my apartment?" I didn't hear him walking in nor did I see him walk in. I'm looking for any sign that he could've broken in, but as I frantically search, it was like he appeared out of thin air. Or shadows.

I ask the most logical question. "Are you stalking me?"

He takes a step forward. My eyes travel down to his hand, one of them is formed into a fist, bearing his knuckles white.

He lowers his head slightly. "I just killed someone and you're worried about me stalking you," His gaze collided against mine, "don't say it as if it is beneath me."

"I forgot you came from Hell, I mean how lower can you go than that?" I said icily.

I pressed my back against the wall but when I pressed my hands on the floor to stand up, I slipped back down hurting my leg and the throbbing pain became vicious. I hear his footsteps coming toward me, I held my hand out stopping him from coming any further and he did. I was grateful for my long hair becoming a shield, I didn't want him to see the loose tear that ran down my cheek.

I took a deep breath in and lifted my head only to come face to face with the dead man. His eyes have become glossy but are left with the horror of feeling the blade from Grimm's scythe slicing his neck. It was a swift and gruesome death but why do I have prickling temptation at the ends of my fingertips, to want to reach for something sharp and puncture his whole face. His face, his eyes, his mouth, and his words, I wanted them gone. Erased.

"We should get you on the sofa, you will be comfortable there," Grimm said.

I look away from the dead man and harshly push my palms against my cheeks, smearing myself with red.

"He came here to kill me. He got inside my apartment without a key. He didn't break the door, he didn't-" I turned my neck to Grimm, "He was choking me and he wasn't even touching me. I could only feel my throat closing. I had to feel something else entirely, something that hurt enough that could make me scream." He bent his knees.

I needed him to know this because I don't think this will be the last time someone is going to try to kill me.

"Do you understand now?" I whispered hoarsely.

He understood but there was a question that hung between the creases of his frown. "Why do they want to kill you?"

I remember what the warlock said, what Dilara said a few days ago, and what Fate spoke of out on the patio that late night. My father. But I needed confirmation if he was alive because I couldn't believe it and Grimm was the only one who could give me the answer. He knew who was dead.

I swallowed audibly, "Is my father dead?"

His frown disappeared and he became vacant, blending half of himself in the darkness while the other half barely completed a silhouette of his face.

"Your father is alive." I wanted a lie, not the truth.

Fate said answers will appear and I might not be asking questions but they're coming, the missing pieces in my life are coming together. I don't think any of them will be pretty. I led a life believing my father was dead. At least I choose to believe in that. I had mourned for him many years ago and now I'm stuck in the loss and loneliness.

My father has been alive all this time and the only way I know is because someone tried to kill me because of him.

"I don't normally dwell on the affairs of witches and warlocks but, if they're coming after you then we need to know everything about your father. We need to prepare ourselves for what is coming." Grimm said.

"We?" I said coolly.

Grimm stretched his hand out, "It's time the world welcomed the Capturer and Crier of Souls, don't you think?"

Unfortunately, my hand had a mind of its own as it slid into Grimm's cold one and he captured it. He wasn't going to let me go and I wasn't planning on letting go. I knew he was only going to help me because he needed something from me, as he kindly reminded me but now, he had become useful to me.

I don't want to die, not yet. And what's the best way to prevent death, get yourself the God of Death to not let you die. However, I needed to hear it.

With my other hand, I reach for his face, his eyes followed my hand and he took a sharp breath when my hand comes close to his cheek. I bring it closer but I don't touch him, my hand hovers over his cheek.

I am afraid and nervous until I see his eyes slowly fluttering.

"Grimm," I say as he completely closes his eyes, he looks calm. "Did you kill that man for me?"

His voice comes out hoarse. "Anyone who makes you scream is bound to die."

That's all I needed.

I drop my hand and the moment I do, his malevolent eyes open and it's almost as if he is ready to kill another person, but I suppose as the Capturer of Souls you're fated to kill others. I squeezed his hand as he snaked his hands underneath my arms, pulling up and I was finally standing except my knees wobbled.

But Grimm quickly slid his arms underneath my legs and my arms instinctively wrapped themselves around his neck.

"I didn't need to be carried," I said as I felt his fingers pressing against my exposed leg.

His lips curve into his fatal smirk. "Do you wish for me to drop you? Honestly, raven, you do everything to spite me."

"What a gentleman." I rolled my eyes.

It takes him a minute to walk over the corpse as he crushes more glass, and steps on blood to get me to the sofa. When his hands come off my body, I miss the coldness but since when did the cold start to become warmth?

I grab the edge of his sleeve, "What are you going to do with the body?" He takes out a phone from his pocket and it's strange watching the blue light illuminating the blood on his face.

"Bury it."Grimm stuffs the phone back into his pocket. "An hour ago, I was digging a body out and now I'm going to bury one. You don't let me catch a break." Amusement fills his eyes. "Hans should be on his way."

Perfect. I let go of his sleeve and pretend to not see Grimm's mouth twitch.

"We might be burying more bodies in the future," I said.

Grimm suggested. "Or we could burn them. We shouldn't spoil the ground, the world is heating up as it is."

I said dryly, "So we should let everyone breathe their ashes?"

"Oh raven," He teased. "I'm not going to burn them here. I'm thinking of burning them in Hell and it will be more special."

Now that wouldn't be too bad. I shook my head thinking how everything that Grimm said sounded agreeable or understandable.

Grimm spoke again, "So, do you know who I should talk to first about your father?"

"Dilara." I crossed my arms. "But we shouldn't talk to her. Did you hear me? I said 'we', you're not going anywhere by yourself to ask about my father."

He placed his hands into the pockets of his coat. "So, the witch friend should be first. Why shouldn't we talk to her first? Did you-" He leaned in, his eyes narrowing. "Did you make her ears bleed?"

I glared. "I didn't do anything."

He shrugged, "I don't see why we can't talk to her then."

I would have thrown a pillow or vase at him if only I hadn't become an unintentional minimalist but maybe it was time to buy pillows, vases, and decorative art with sharp edges that could cause someone to be knocked out...with a bit of blood of course.

I swear I only think the worst when I'm with him.

"Because the last time we spoke to each other, things didn't end well," I explained. "Let's just say things ended with a broken glass and it was not because I screamed."

"That's still not a good enough reason not to talk to her." He said.

I soothed the temples of my forehead. "Look when she was here, Dilara was talking about witches, warlocks, and council people along with my family name. She said I was in danger and I kind of didn't believe her." I met Grimm's gaze. "So things ended abruptly."

"We need to talk to the witch, she probably could give us the answers we need," Grimm replied.

Goes in one ear and comes out the other. I'm going to the store tomorrow and buying all the sharp objects.

He moves back, "I'm going to go look for the witch. Hans should be getting here and he will take care of my mess." He turns to leave.

Wait, what?

I push myself up from the sofa, "You're going to go look for her right now?" Grimm nodded. I point to the stove behind him, "It's two o'clock in the morning, no person is awake at this time." I said.

He said arrogantly. "She is a witch, it's close to the witching hour and all witches are awake right now, including yourself."

I frowned, not knowing if that was a real thing or if I should be bothered by the fact he called me a witch. Grimm's irritating triumph is stretched across his face and I push myself up the couch and stand on my two feet but it quickly becomes a bad idea. 

One second, I'm standing on my two feet and the next second, my vision becomes blurry. My knees wobble until they unbuckle and I know I'm going to fall when an arm circles around my waist from behind, my hands clutch his arm for balance.

My head falls against his solid chest as I try to look up at him. "You better not go looking for her right now, or I swear when I die I'll haunt you for the rest of your immortal life." My eyelids become heavy, I close them briefly but it was another mistake I made.

"How awful. I'm going to go look for her now." I forcibly peek through my lashes, catching a glimpse of his slightly curved lips.

His breath fans over my ear, "Remember what you swore." 

My last thought before sleep overtook my body was sticking the letter-opener into Grimm's selfish heart.