Page 13 of Death is My BFF

“Does it matter?” he snickered. “You couldn’t open it anyway.”

As I slowly looked back at him, the gravity of the situation struck me. No matter how hard I strained to see his face, a shadow curtained his features. The dark void was endless. As I stared into the hypnotic abyss, his head tilted slightly. For a moment, he seemed familiar. Not a good familiar either.

My heart plummeted to the pit of my stomach.

I took off running, but the cloaked man materialized in front of me. A black mist expelled from his body as he solidified. Trying to stop quickly in heels, I nearly slid right into him. “Oh, shit!”

“I’m not done with you,” he growled.

Only a small sound scratched its way out of my throat. I looked over my shoulder, where the cloaked man once stood. Back at him.

Back at the place where he once stood.

“You—you just . . . ” I clutched at my chest in shock, unable to finish the rest.

“I know. I’m breathtaking.”

“You’re not real!”

“Yeah, and you’re not annoying.” He brought a rolled, unfiltered cigarette to his shadowed face and lit up. “Aren’t you tired of painting me over and over again?” Sweet, scented smoke expelled from his mouth. Cherry. “And thoseawfulnightmares. Every. Single. Night.”

A feigned pity dripped from his cultured voice. “If only you could remember them.”

Reality fell away as I imagined those mismatched green eyes.

“Marcy told you about me.” It was the most reasonable explanation I could think of, even though she was completely in the dark about the nightmares.

“I don’t give a fuck about Marcy.” He took a hard pull from the cigarette. “The sooner you accept I’m real, the sooner your memories will come back to you. We need to be on the same page. I’m here, in the flesh, for you. You know exactly who I am.”

“I can’t be awake.” I fought the urge to slug this psycho in the face and take off again. “This is impossible—”

“Or it’s a nightmare with your eyes wide open. Call me Death.”

Blood drained from my face, and I couldfeelhim grinning beneath his hood. “Breathe. If I wanted you dead, you would be. I’ve gotten pretty good at that.”

He snuffed out his cigarette with the heel of his boot and advanced toward me with long, calculated strides. I backpedaled.

“I won’t repeat myself,” saidDeath, as he continued forward.

“Through our deal, I saved your life. Now you’re mine. You need to come with me.”

I’m his?My back hit a glass window. There was something about his sureness that smothered my fear. “Sonot happening.”

He stopped in his tracks. “Oh, really.”

I rolled my fingers into fists to prevent them from shaking.

“There is no way I’m going anywhere with you, psycho.”

Silence.

He threw back his head and barked out a laugh. “Cute,” he purred. “As if you have a choice.”

“I must have a choice, otherwise you wouldn’t be trying to convince me I don’t,” I insisted. “To put it in a way you might understand, the chances of me leaving with you aregrim.”

Death’s hidden stare now felt lethal and piercing, like a predator stalking its prey. “I’d be very careful how you speak to me.” He leaned down close. “I have a short temper. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

The terror of the moment broke as a ringtone version of “Hell’s Bells” blared from underneath his cloak. He straightened and clenched his fist. I detected his embarrassment of the timing of the call.

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