Page 73 of Death Raiser

“Is it safe to assume we’re talking at least a few hundred years?”

He inclined his head.

“Yet, you want to date me?” I folded my arms over my chest. Yeah, I wasn’t buying it. I might be a professional, I might navigate serious situations with relative ease, but no one would ever accuse me of being an old soul. Hell, Estelle hung out with me because I was the exact opposite of that.

“The dating pool in the veil is remarkably small,” he said, tone dry.

I snorted and covered my mouth.

“But yes, I want to date you,” he said. “You are an alluring individual. What better way to help me feel young and more connected with today’s world than to date someone who is living it?”

Well, crap. That was almost exactly what Estelle had said.

“Are you friends with Estelle?” I asked.

He cocked his head to the side like an apex predator considering the silly behaviour of its prey. “Who?”

“Human servant.”

“I don’t believe so,” he said. “I don’t exactly get out much. Have you exchanged blood with her? I should’ve sensed that.”

Yeah, that wasn’t creepy at all.

“We don’t have that kind of friendship,” I said while mentally adding “blood exchange with human servant” to the list of things to research when I got out of here. Why would anyone go through a blood exchange with a human servant? Did it work similarly to that of a vampire bond? Or was it something else?

“Pity. Blood exchanges, especially with a human servant, can be highly erotic.”

Oh. Well. There was my answer. Did that mean exchanging blood with anyone touched by death would have similar effects?

When I’d exchanged a small bit of blood with Gregor to form the bond, it had been uncomfortably stimulating as well. And that, along with Leviathan’s comment, and our little healing session earlier, told me how exchanging blood with Leviathan would feel. It would be addicting, like a drug.

And he’d casually offered it to further heal my arm.

“Yeah, we’re not going to be those kinds of friends, either.” I wouldn’t be that kind of friend with Leviathan, no matter how much his magic made my blood sing. It didn’t take more than two brain cells to figure out how dangerous forming an intimate connection with the Lord of the Veil would be.

Leviathan shrugged and waved me into a room past heavy wooden doors. “You’d be amazed how much your opinion and feelings can change over time. Maybe one day, you’ll wish to exchange blood with me. This is a date after all, and you promised to keep an open mind.”

I stepped into the room after him and almost fell over.

A library.

Like one from a fairy tale.

If I ever found myself in a horror movie, I wouldn’t be the asshat who got in the car with the murderer. I wouldn’t forget to turn off my ringtone or ignore all the signs of a serial killer. My weakness would be books. I’d get lost in a fictional world without realizing everything around me was going to shit. They’d find me dead, hunched over a book with a knife in my back and a smile on my face.

I turned to Leviathan. “How did you know?”

“Over the last few hundred years or so, I’ve come to the conclusion that most women just want a quiet place to read a good book.”

“Leviathan—”

“Levi.”

“Leviathan—”

“Levi.” He dipped his chin. “I insist.”

I sighed. “I think you might be reading my mind.”

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