Page 64 of Death is My Ride or Die

Leo arched a brow. “You never have to worry about your safety around me, Faith. My brothers and I, we have one job and one job only: collect the souls we are assigned. I think you’d get along great with them, and there will be an obnoxious amount of food. Interested?”

The way he talked about the Seven intrigued me. I wanted to know more. I also wanted to get the heck out of this penthouse, even if I had to hang out with a bunch of soul eaters to do so.

“This is going to get me in trouble, isn’t it? The last thing I want to deal with right now is another one of Death’s mood swings. Or Lucifer getting pissed and sticking me on the end of his freaky tail to dangle me over the pits of Hell like a marshmallow over a bonfire.”

He chuckled. “Damn. That was very descriptive.”

“Thanks, I’m quite creative when I’m spiraling.” When Leo clearly didn’t know whether I was joking or not, I smiled to ease the mood. “But really, what if Death finds out?”

“Then I’ll take the blame,” Leo said. “Listen, Death’s two thousand years old, and he’s clearly forgotten how to treat people becausethis”—he motioned to the empty apartment and let his arm drop—“thisisn’t healthy. You, cooped up here all alone. It’s messed up.” He opened the apartment door. “Let me break you out of jail.”

I joined him at the door. “Where’s the party?”

“It’s a surprise,” he answered with a slow grin.

I smiled and tucked my hair behind my ear. “I do love surprises . . . ” I stepped out into the hallway after him. “Lead the—” My breath caught in my throat.

“Surprise,” Death said.

The Grim Reaper leaned against the wall in the hallway. His complexion wasn’t pale anymore, and the sharp bronze planes of his face were less skeletal.

“My lord,” Leo said with a bow of his head. “I had no idea you were . . . Had I known—”

“I haven’t forgotten how to treat people, Leo.” Death glanced at me. “I just don’t care enough to put the effort in.”

Ouch.

“That was out of line,” Leo said. “I apologize.”

“Where are you taking her?” Death asked with a casual, calm curiosity. Call it a sixth sense again, or some kind of strange connection due to the weird bond he’d created between us, but I knew Death was concealing something. He had, after all, been lingeringoutsidehis own penthouse, which was odd . . .

It was then I noticed that he was hiding something behind his back.

“The den,” Leo admitted. “We arranged a small gathering for Gunner’s birthday.”

“I see.” Death went quiet for a moment. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go have fun.”

Leo regarded him with disbelief. “Are you sure, my lord?”

“If she is,” Death remarkably said.

“I am,” I replied.

Death and I stared at each other before he pushed off the wall and stalked past us to his apartment door. He maneuvered his arm in front of him so that I couldn’t see what he was holding, and then he threw open the penthouse door and shut it. No slam. No vanishing. No dramatic exits.

He was not okay with this. The furthest from okay. But I was. I was definitely okay with this. After everything I’d been through, Death was respecting my choice, and I appreciated the compromise.

I followed Leo.

XIX

DEATH

Hundreds of feet below, a pedestrian shuffled along the sidewalk. I sat on the edge of the roof with the neck of an empty whiskey bottle clutched in my fist and stretched out my arm, swinging the bottle slowly back and forth like a pendulum.

“Bye, bitch.”

I dropped it and leaned over the edge to watch it fall and shatter right behind the man. He startled, glanced at his empty surroundings, and booked it down the sidewalk.

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