WANTED (Sequel to One Hell of a Maid)

Chapter 10: Grim Reaper of the Sexiest and Most Talented Kind

"Right here please, sir."

The carriage pulls over about a twenty minute walk from the grassy hill where the mansion sits.

"Are you sure ma'am? This is the wild west, it ain't very safe around these parts, especially nearing dark like it is." The driver says.

"I'll be alright." I say, putting a melodic lilt in my voice to help get him to leave.

Just from the small hint of my magical music the man's face erupts into a sloppy smile and he nods drunkenly.

I feel a bit guilty but shake it off. I step out of the carriage. As soon as my boots hit the dirt path the carriage drives on without me.

Might as well set forward then, I think.

Walking onward my feet kick up brown dust behind me. I would of had the carriage take me back to the mansion but decided to have it drop me off twenty minutes away. Not because of the scenery (though it is beautiful) but because it would look suspicious if I came back to the mansion in a carriage with no explanation. However, if I walked the rest of the way I could easily say I went out for an evening stroll. It's best that my ventures of the day were kept quiet.

The sun begins to sink into the sky, it's last rays painting the still-stormy sky a brooding bruised purple and grey.

I had lost time investigating and meant to get home hours ago, alas this wasn't the case. Now I have to get to the mansion quickly before the clouds can release their rain on the terrain.

The sunset is faster than usual, soon the sun finally is replaced by the blackness of night and the shine of the pale moon. Sadly I can't fully see the night sky's splendor through the covering of the puffy clouds.

The falling of night brings a dreadful coldness to the air. Being a Siren usually temperature and such humanly uncomfortableness doesn't bother me as much, but tonight it's completely frigid out.

I fold my arms across my chest to ward of the freezing cold, to make things worse the winds starts to howl like some sort of angry haunting ghost. Suddenly the trees are great looming witches grabbing at my garbs with spindly boney fingers of bark.

I hurry on, brave but not totally unafraid either. My time at Siren has hardened me much but that doesn't mean that my emotions are completely repressed. However, I sometimes wish they were.

All of a sudden a creeping tingle tickles the back of my mind like I'm being watched or something. I bite my bottom lip and clench my fingers, ready for an attack. However, I still go forward, pretending not to notice anything.

And then it all seems to stop. My blood runs cold, why did it stop?

A high screech destroys the creepy-quiet of night. A blur of purple catches my eyes from the highest tree near the road. Like some sort of comet it streaks through the sky, a tail of purple trailing behind it. Gravity takes over and it plummets to the hard Earth.

My eyes widen as the thing hurdles, screeching towards me. I swiftly dive out of the way, barely making it away before it slams into the ground.

Getting to my feet I carefully stalk towards the thing. A person, I realize.

Like an ostrich the person's head is stuck in the ground bottom up. The person's hands push against the ground and they wiggle, attempting to escape from the soil's strong gripping hold.

On instinct I grab the person's waist and pull with all my might. With a sickening plop their head is released. We fly backwards into the grass just off the road. I fall on to my buttocks with the person splayed out on my lap.

I shove them away and stand, getting into a defensive position and ignoring my aching bottom.

The person (a woman) stands and dusts off her clothes.

She wears black leggings, black ankle boots, a tight deep purple corset, and a dark purple trench coat that flows to her knees. Lastly, a long shovel with a sharp looking metal end is strung across her back. She's around my height (so tall) with a slim body and strange yet beautiful face. Her skin is soft and tan with only a couple silvery scars tracing her graceful neck. Her hair is a strange shade of purple black and to her chin in a feathery/choppy style. Despite it all the strangest thing about her is her eyes. Both are a brilliant shade of violet with flecks of glowing green. Around her eyes is a pair of sleek black glasses, so small that the only indication they're there is the light of the moon glinting off the glass.

She offers me a grin and a short mocking bow, "Adelaide Granger, Grim Reaper of the sexiest and most talented kind."

My fingers still stay clenched in fists. Grim Reaper or not she could be bad news. Never underestimate a Grim Reaper, or anyone or thing for that matter, but don't overestimate them easier. It's just as dangerous.

"Who died?" I ask.

Adelaide chuckles, a short clipped sound like a horse's hooves beating against cobble. "Straight to the point aye? I like that in a girl. To answer your question; it's not who died but when and what did it. In this case the who hardly matters."

I grit my teeth. "When, then and who committed the murder?"

Adelaide pucks at her black nails. "Allow me to answer you're second question first. However, I can't. As for your first....Right...." She pauses. "Now."

Nothing happens, a sadistic smile plasters against her face. "Ah there it is, now this will be interesting. See ya, Siren and good luck." She winks. "Ya know we're not really all that different when it comes down to it."

At that the Grim Reaper springs into the trees, jumping from treetop to treetop much like Grell does buildings.