Page 63 of Death is My Ride or Die

I couldn’t explain it. How it hit me then, like a sixth sense.

He’d kept this news from me for areason.

I went into my bedroom and slammed the door.

XVIII

David Star was on TV.

Which meant Death was back to his double life.

This was a rerun from an interview earlier in the morning, a press release for the D&S Tower about their supposed art program for New York City’s youth. David’s chestnut-brown hair, much longer than Death’s black faux-hawk, was styled messily over his forehead, and he wore a dark-gray dress shirt and medium-wash jeans. Handsome features, unmarked by any cynical tattoos or scars, bore a close enough resemblance to Alexandru, Death’s old human self, that it was disturbing.

One devastating smile, and he effortlessly controlled the room. Little did they know that beneath that pretty façade was a green-eyed monster. One that hungered for the very people he sought to manipulate, including me.

Pointing the remote at the flat-screen over Death’s massive fireplace, I angrily changed the channel to an action film and turned up the volume. Then I dumped a few more kernels of popcorn on the floor for Cruentas. He inhaled them like a vacuum. Since he appeared to be trained not to jump on the leather couches, he plopped back down on his dog bed, which I’d placed on the floor by my feet.

“He seems to like you.”

I startled at the voice and swiveled my head. Leo stood behind the couch. Cruentas sprinted to him and began furiously sniffing his knee before jumping up on his hind legs for a pet.

“Cruentas can be a little shy around strangers,” he said.

I reached for the remote to turn the TV down. “You scared the crap out of me. What are you doing in here?”

Leo’s amber eyes scanned the food on the coffee table then shifted to the guns blazing on the television in a James Bond movie. “Checking in on you.”

“He gave me a babysitter? Since when?”

“Since day one,” Leo replied. “I normally stand out in the hallway or stop by in the middle of the night.”

“While I’msleeping?”

“It’s not like that. I don’t enter your bedroom. I can hear your heartbeat from the outside. Just like I heard a bunch of guns and violence on the television from the hallway outside . . . ”

“And what, you thought there was actually World War Three in here?”

“No, I . . . figured I’d make sure everything’s all right. With you.”

I set my ice cream and popcorn on the coffee table. “Maybe you haven’t heard, but I sold my soul to the Harbinger of Doom and Beelzebub. So no, nothing is all right.”

The words came out nastier than I’d intended, but it’s not like I owed this guy anything. He was one of them.

Leo slid his hands into his pockets and sat down on the couch beside me. “Getting locked up in here all alone must be a real joy, huh?”

“I feel like a caged animal.”

“I may be able to help with that.”

I looked over at him. “You can get me out of here? Can you take me to visit my family?”

“I wish I could,” Leo said, and the earnestness in his eyes was refreshing and more human than anything Death could offer. “It’s not safe for you to leave the premises. I was talking about something smaller. A birthday party.”

“For you?”

“For my brother. He’s one of the Seven.”

I blinked. “Oh. Will there be food, or am I the food?”

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