Page 43 of Death is My Ride or Die

He arched brow, as if to say,You have a point.You are the dumbest individual I know.

And I knew I was wearing him down.

I pouted. “Pwease?”

Growling, Death clutched my wrist in a rough, viselike grip. “You screw up again, it’s your ass and my palm.”

His shadows consumed us both.

We landed in the alleyway beside the D&S Tower. As I gasped for air against a wall from the lack of oxygen on that manifesting journey, Death yanked on a leather jacket and straddled a black motorcycle. It roared to life, and he shoved a tinted helmet over his head.

At the front of the bike was a symbol. A black stallion. My attention lifted to the other end of the alleyway, where the massive black stallion Death had called had saved us from Malphas’s demons.Cruentas. That was his name. Upon closer inspection, the symbol on Death’s bike had red eyes.There’s no way. . .

Death revved the engine to a roar, scaring the bejesus out of me.

“Get on, chicken,” he said with a gruff snicker.

My mind briefly shifted to the time Marcy and I had been watchingBuffy the Vampire Slayerand Buffy had gotten on Spike’s bike after driving home from a demon bar. I’d told Marcy jokingly that it’d take more than a hot guy to get me on the back of a death trap. Now Buffy’s life didn’t seem all that different from mine, and motorcycles were the least of my worries.

I took the second tinted black helmet from the Grim Reaper’s hand and straddled the bike behind him. He was burning hot beneath his leather jacket, like the flames of Hell lingered beneath his skin. I looped my arms around his waist as he booted the kickstand to tear into the street.

Death drove like a maniac, and I held on for dear life. We weaved between cars and broke so many traffic laws that I gave up counting and squeezed my eyes shut. By the time we reached our destination, I was a sweaty mess, and my thighs were tense from squeezing his legs so hard, but I was alive. Death drove his motorcycle up onto the curb without a care in the world and parked it. Even though it was barely noon, the line to get into Spades stretched out as long as I could see, roped off by red velvet and monitored by intimidating men in suits.

I tore my helmet off. “What kind of private club is open this early? Don’t these people work?”

“They are working,” Death said, removing his helmet only to tug up the hood of the sweatshirt over his head. “Blood whores. Mortals who offer their necks and bodies for a paycheck.”

As I pieced together what that could mean, Death kicked the stand of his motorcycle out and shut off the bike. Leaving it on the curb, he prowled toward the club, forcing me to hurry to keep up. Not even the autumn wind dared to embrace Death as it picked up, tossing my hair around me but leaving him untouched. Looked like Mother Nature had a more complicated relationship with the Grim Reaper than I did.

“Wait a minute, Ace owns avampireclub?”

Death stopped hard in his tracks, and I nearly crashed into his chest.

“No socializing,” Death said, ticking off his gloved fingers in front of my face. “No drinking or eating, and noFaithing. Until we’re alone with Ace, your name is Hope. Just Hope. But you shouldn’t have to introduce yourself because then you’d be chitchatting and breaking my first rule. Now, what’s your name?”

I smiled sarcastically. “Hope.”

Death clutched my wrist again—a move I was getting really tired of—and hauled me to the front of the line. He came face to face with the bouncer, who immediately let us enter. The pounding bass and colorful beams of light enveloped me, and my eyes roamed over the intimate private club. The walls were dark-purple with lighter purple accents and a sleek black floor. Lavender curtains revealed the silhouettes of individuals sitting in private booths.

Death stood directly to my left against a shadowy wall. He was so in tune with his surroundings that he’d found the perfect spot to lurk like a predator, just beyond the reach of any lights. As I stared at him, the darkness shadowing his body peeled away and his furious, striking eyes radiated like two mismatched green gems. For once, his wrath wasn’t aimed at me but at the bloodsuckers mingling around us.

He slunk further into the club, not bothering to check if I was following.Asshole.

I turned back over my shoulder toward the entrance of the club, wishing I had the option to run away.

Luckily, Death was seven feet tall and easy to spot in a crowd. I was moving toward him when someone slammed into me, their drink spilling all over the floor.

“I’m so sorry!” I shouted, then recoiled as the woman hissed at me.

I hurried away from the vampire, but Death was no longer in sight. Thinking it was better to get to high ground, I hurried to the top of a set of spiral stairs, the strong odor of copper hitting my nostrils. Pulling at my sleeve, I felt bile climb up my throat as I realized that what had spilled onto my arm had beenblood.

And now everyone was looking at me. Wherever I went, I felt the weight of hungry eyes.

This was a horrible idea. A horrible, horrible idea.

It was time to get the hell out of there.

I turned fast to make an exit down the stairs, but I slipped on something wet on the floor, nearly falling on a topless woman making out with a gorgeous man with shoulder-length black hair. The air rippled over the couple, and the attractive man grew paler, then gray, with foul, rotting skin that triggered my gag reflexes. Fangs extended as he ripped into the flesh at the woman’s neck.

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