Page 114 of Death is My BFF

Damn.

“So don’t worry your pretty little innocent, moral head, cupcake,” Death continued, shifting back to his teasing mood. “I only eat the parts of a mortal’s soul I’m supposed to have.” I could feel him grinning like a piranha. “Unless, of course, a poor soul meets me on a bad day . . . ”

I loosed a shaky breath, wondering if he had more bad days than good ones.

“What about human food?” I asked, taking advantage of the fact that we were having a normal-ish discussion. Ifnormalwas the word to describe chatting with the Angel of Death.

“I tolerate it, when I’m starving.” He sounded uninterested again, or maybe he hated that he’d become the main topic of conversation.

“I lost my palate for mortal food a long time ago. Sugar and meat have always been an exception though.”

No wonder he loves frosting. “What happens if you don’t eat at all?

Reap human souls, I mean.”

His head slanted down to me, and the air plunged a few degrees colder. “We’re talking too much. Time to come with me.” He inclined a gloved finger to himself. “Now, if you will.”

“Not happening. Especially after you reminded me my soul is a Happy Meal for you.”

The huskiness of his laugh was like a hot caress against my skin.

“Every moment you remain exposed, you put yourself and your loved ones in danger. You will only attract more creatures to your essence. Do I need to tattoo these words on the palm of your hand for you to finally grasp them?”

With great restraint, I bit down on my tongue to hold back a sarcastic response, something I probably should have done a lot more often. I hated how superior he considered himself. My eyes raked from his combat boots, up his massive frame, to stare into the hidden eyes of the creature beneath the hood. Shadows twisted around his cloak, coiling in the air like phantom snakes. When we kissed, that darkness had embraced me. I’d been engulfed by his shadows and kissed by them, as if they were also a part of him.

As my brain roved over dirty thoughts of Death’s shadows—of all things—I could feel the monster himself silently watching me from beneath his veil.

I had to stop thinking about that damn kiss and remember whom I was dealing with.

“I’m not going,” I said firmly, as heat surged down my arms. “I’m not leaving my loved ones alone and exposed to you, and I won’t let you use me anymore. I’d rather die.”

He released a baritone growl that rattled at the back of his throat.

It was impossible not to recoil. When I did, my foot tripped over the basket of apples. His strong gloved hand shot out and clasped my wrist before I fell. Death pulled me forward and to the side, pinning me to the Toyota.

“Be careful what you wish for,” he purred against my throbbing pulse. “I can take a life just as quickly as I can spare one.” He lowered his head to the crook of my neck. I let him, succumbing to the madness. “You’re different than the other mortals. That’s unfortunate for you, because I find the most unusual things in this world are the tastiest.”

Out of instinct, or maybe out of pure insanity, my hands reached out to fist the warm T-shirt beneath his leather jacket. Layers of carved muscles tightened just beyond a thin layer of cotton. “Donot.

Threaten me.”

“It wasn’t a threat.” Death pressed his lips to my neck. A jolt of heat slid down my spine, coiling in the very place he’d roused the night before. All of my senses shut down, except for touch. My eyes fluttered closed as his cruel gloved hands drifted down the outline of my ribs, my waist, my hips. When he brushed a small patch of exposed skin on the upper leg of my ripped jeans, he slid a finger inside, grazing the bare flesh of my thigh and my fishnets with leather. I could not breathe. With a low laugh, his tongue stroked a wicked path up the column of my throat in a leisurely caress. “It was a promise.”

Rather than disappearing into a black mist, he pushed off the Toyota and prowled away into the parking lot. Looked like he’d be hanging around.

“Boo!” Aunt Sarah shouted from behind me. I was a miracle I hadn’t peed myself.

“Why do people keep doing that to me?” I lashed out, slapping a hand over my neck, where moments ago Death’s tongue had been.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she said, taken aback by my outburst. “I was trying to be funny.”

“I know.” I removed my fingers from my neck in shame and raked them through my hair. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Who were you talking to?” Aunt Sarah asked.

It took a humiliating amount of effort to focus on an answer.

“Just a friend from class.” The phantom trace of Death’s caress tingled on my neck, mocking my lie. “He had a question about our homework.”

---