Invincible Chronicles of Nick - By Sherrilyn Kenyon Page 0,16
a snarky little slug. It didn’t like answering questions anymore than Nick did, and it answered them with a venom Nick wished he could get away with and not stay grounded for life.
Narrowing his eyes on the book, Nick slapped at his back pockets to see if the book in Grim’s hand was a duplicate.
It wasn’t.
His pants were empty.…
Well, wait a minute, they weren’t empty, ’cause that would imply something that definitely wasn’t the case, but his pockets were. That was definitely his book, and Death was tainting it. He glared at Grim for the theft.
Normally he’d reclaim it, but snatching something out of Death’s grasp didn’t seem particularly intelligent.
Unless it was your own life.
Oblivious of and impervious to Nick’s anger, Grim tapped the book with his fingertip. “Let me get back to the fact that the universe speaks to us constantly. And this little puppy barks loudly.” He shoved it against Nick’s chest. “Guard this with your life because in the right hands, it is your life and your death. You’ve bled in this book, and it is the most personal of possessions you’ll ever have. A master wizard, witch, upper-level demon, or any number of other entities can use it to control or destroy you. In fact, guard every possession you have. Every stray hair. Every particle of skin and clothing. Let no one near anything you have ever owned or will own. You’re special, kid. In ways you can’t conceive, and you will have to guard your back every second you want to keep breathing.”
He definitely didn’t like the sound of that. “Aren’t you just Mary Sunshine?”
“There’s a reason they call me Grim.”
Yeah, no kidding. Nick returned his book to his back pocket. “So how does this divination junk work, anyway?”
“Think of it as the cold chill you get down your spine whenever someone walks on your grave. That niggling sensation that tells you not to do something, and when you disregard it, you wish you hadn’t.”
“Kind of like getting out of bed this morning.”
Grim rolled his eyes. “Frik. Frak,” he snapped at his two skulking minions. “Get started cleaning this place while Nick and I work.”
Without a word or hesitation, Pain took the mop from Nick. Suffering moved to pick up glass.
“Wow. Where have you two been all my life?”
Pain quirked an eyebrow as he mopped the floor. “Walking hand in hand with you. Haven’t you noticed?”
Nick fell silent as he realized the truth of that statement. He had walked hand in hand with Pain and Suffering since the hour of his birth. Bitter poverty and the worst sort of bullying. Heck, he’d even been shot by one of his best friends, who’d intended to kill him dead in the gutter.
Yeah, they’d definitely been his constant companions.
He looked back at Grim. “Come to think of it, can we leave them behind?”
Grim appeared offended by his question. “No. They’re my best friends.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to be in pain, and I definitely don’t want to suffer.”
“Well … The only way to avoid them is to die.” Grim gave him a hopeful smile.
That chilled him all the way to his soul. “Okay, let’s change the topic now.” He pointed to the wall behind Grim. “Oh, look! A chicken.”
Grim made a sound of extreme frustration. “Fine. Let’s begin with something even you can’t screw up.”
“Way to build up my crappy confidence there. You should volunteer for the suicide hotline.”
“What makes you think I don’t?”
Nick screwed his face up. “Ah man, that’s wrong on so many levels.”
“Je suis ce que je suis.”
Nick took a step back. Last night had taught him to be wary of any foreign words. “Is that a spell?”
Grim shook his head. “It’s French, Nick. Means ‘I am what I am.’ Sheez, kid. Get educated. Read a book. I promise you it’s not painful.”
“I would definitely argue that. Have you seen my summer reading list? It’s nothing but girl books about them getting body parts and girl things I don’t want to discuss in class with my female English teacher. Maybe in the boys’ locker room and maybe with a coach, but not with a woman teacher in front of other girls who already won’t go out with me. Or worse, they’re about how bad all of us men reek and how we need to be taken out and shot ’cause we’re an affront to all social and natural orders. Again—thanks, Teach. Give the girls even more reason to kick us down when we talk to