Page 45 of Death is My Ride or Die

Duncan’s bland expression cracked slightly. He took a step back, as did his clan of beautiful creatures. Keeping me on the opposite side of the vampires, Death strode confidently past them.

“What was that about?” I asked.

“That leech is on Lucifer’s comity. He represents the rights of his large clan of vampires. The vampire species has been around since the beginning of time, and they’re highly respected by Hell. Let’s just say they have a lot of connections in the mortal world that Lucifer uses to his advantage, but they’re a bunch of entitled, soulless pricks. They chronically abandon their newborns, which leaves a bloody, gory mess for Hell to clean up, and they’re constantly demanding special treatment.”

“Sounds like a rocky alliance.”

“Even rockier now.” Once we were away from Duncan’s vampires, Death hooked his fingers into front of the sweatshirt and pulled me to a halt like a feline capturing a mouse. In an instant, my body was flush against his. His silver piercings winked under the lights. “I turn my back on you foronesecond.”

“It was amistake—”

“You tend to make a lot of those. It is too bad stupidity isn’t painful. Perhaps you’d learn your lesson and listen to me for once.”

“Maybe you should take some accountability. You left me alone in a vampire club. What did you expect to happen? That I’d make friends, and we’d all sit down around a campfire singing ‘Kumbaya’?”

His eyes narrowed to harsh slits. If he wanted me to be his doormat, he would be sorely disappointed.

This incident only further demonstrates your impertinence, I imagined Death would say next. And then he’d read off a recipe he’d created for a clambake, which substituted clams with diced-up pieces of Faith Williams.

Because you’re so flawless in every way yourself, right?I’d reply.

I wouldn’t say in every way. One of my fangs is slightly longer than the rest. Would you like to see? It’s all the way in the back, so you have to lean in real close.

You’re insufferable.

“And you only annoy me when you’re breathing, cupcake,” Death hissed out loud.

My mouth gaped. “You just read my thoughts!” Great, now I needed an ad blocker to keep the Grim Reaper out of my mind.

“No, your thoughts are still difficult to decipher. I can only communicate with you in your head. Very clearly, as of recently.” He arched his scarred eyebrow like there was so much more he was capable of now.

I thought back to Death biting my finger when I signed his contract, and then the black blood from his tongue mixing with my own in a sweet concoction in my mouth.

“What did you do to me?”

He winked. “Nothing you didn’t deserve.”

“Look what the cat dragged in,” a voice intervened, and we broke apart.

Trixie. Ace’s assistant. The last time I’d seen her had been in Ace’s bookshop in Pleasant Valley when she’d pointed a gun at my head. She flaunted a slim brown corset and matching leather pants. I eyed the strap along her waist that held a walkie-talkie and a gun holster, which her right hand rested on.

“Trixie the Pixie,” Death said. “It’s been a long time.”

“Not long enough,” she sneered. “You know, despite everything that happened between you, Ace has never spoken ill of you. What you did to him was despicable and vile, even for you.”

Death shifted on his feet. I couldn’t believe it.Death, uncomfortable? If only I had a big tub of popcorn because this was going to be good.

“I see you’re still suckling on Ace’s staff for his magic,” Death noted. “Only a pixie leeching off a warlock can keep that much glamour in place.”

Trixie roared in another language, her eyes igniting to white. Then she turned to me. “I remember you. Don’t tell me you’re sleeping with this parasite, or worse, dating him.”

“Do your job and take us to Ace,” Death said.

Trixie pivoted on her heel and led us to the back of the club, opening a door for us to walk through before locking it behind us. We followed her down a long hallway, the sultry, pounding music in the club beginning to fade until it disappeared completely.

She parted a deep purple curtain and stepped to the side. “Get in.”

Death moved first, and when I came through, a rush of energy in the air tickled my skin as I took in the lavish room. There was an old Victorian-style desk with a purple velvet chair. A folded changing curtain partially hid a few selections of lavish clothing, and one side of the room was dedicated to jarred herbs.

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