Invincible Chronicles of Nick - By Sherrilyn Kenyon Page 0,15
to the picture of Bubba’s mama that hung on the wall. A portrait that had a huge gunshot in it, right between her eyes. His stomach slid to his feet. Yeah, that had been a close call.
“So what are you going to teach me?” he asked Grim in an effort to avoid thinking about how he’d shot Bubba’s mama in the head. He was lucky he was still breathing after that.
“How to open your mind and pay attention. The universe is always speaking to us. Sometimes the signs are in our faces, and other times, they’re very, very subtle.”
“Subtle how?”
Grim pointed to the picture of Bubba’s mama. “Let’s use that for an example. When you look at that, you see nothing but a hole in a painting. When I look at it, I can tell exactly when and how you’re going to die, and I don’t mean Bubba coming after you in anger over defacing his mother’s image. It shows an integral part of your future … and its end.”
CHAPTER 4
Nick’s throat tightened as he walked to the picture that hung about three feet over his head on the wall. He stared at the powder burn marks and hole. While there was a Rorschach-esque quality to it, it didn’t look like much. Tilting his head, he squinted and treated it like a Where’s Waldo? puzzle.
That showed the date of his death? Forget meth was death. Death was on meth. It just looked like a big mess to him.
He scowled at Grim. “You’re pulling at me, right?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. You’ll have to play with me for a while to see.”
Nick wasn’t sure he liked the way Grim phrased that. “Why is it when you say things like that, I feel like I’m gambling with my life?”
“Probably because you are. I never gamble for anything less.”
Now, that just made him feel all warm and fluffy inside. “Oh, goody.”
“Did you say something?” Mark stuck his head through the curtain that separated the front of the store from the back room.
“Uh, yeah. I said, ‘Oh, goody.’ As in I get to clean this mess up.”
Mark gave an evil laugh. “I had that same reaction. I even tried to quit when I showed up this morning, but Bubba wouldn’t let me. Told me if I tried to leave, he’d shoot my butt full of buckshot. He’s the only SOB I know who’s crazy enough to actually do that. So here I am. Ticked off, but alive. It’s a good day.” He vanished behind the curtain to return to whatever he and Bubba were working on.
Nick went back to Grim. “Don’t you have any friends you could hang with?”
“I do. But the problem is when I hang out with my friends, it usually gets ugly for the rest of you. Especially when we’re bored. Nothing entertains us more than plagues, famine, war, and bloody massacres.”
“You play D&D, too, huh? Who’s your DM?”
Grim tsked at him. “The difference between my group and yours … our toys are real.” All of a sudden, the horse ran out of his pocket and up his arm to rest on his shoulder.
Neat trick. Creepy, but neat.
“So … that’s like your pet monkey?”
The tiny horse snorted flames and whinnied at him.
“Easy, girl.” Grim stroked her mane to calm her down. “You’d do well to show her respect. She can understand you, and she doesn’t take well to insults.”
“Sorry, Flicka. Didn’t mean to rattle your bridle.” Nick started straightening.
Grim dogged his steps. “The key to what I have to teach is that the universe and its beings speak to you constantly. But much like the little book you received last night, they seldom speak overtly. You have to figure it out on your own and hopefully before it’s too late. The power of divination is a way for you to listen to the warnings the universe gives.”
Nick stiffened as a chill went down his spine. “How do you know about my grimoire?”
Grim snapped his fingers, and the book appeared in his hand. Small and black with a funky red symbol on the front that was supposed to be Nick’s personal emblem, it contained riddles that had helped Nick survive the attacks from the night before. All he had to do was ask it a question and release three drops of blood on it—something he still thought was gross, but … His blood would circle and move to form words and pictures on the page and give him clues.