Page 65 of Death is My Ride or Die

“Damn,” I muttered. “I’m getting rusty.”

“M-my lord?”

I turned back to peer at a little man with glasses.

“Glenn!” I shouted, beaming at him. “My trusted—” Glenn’s eyes went wide as he jumped back with a scream that made my ears ring. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

“Sorry, my lord!” Glenn exclaimed. “It’s—it’s just yousmiledat me.”

I unscrewed the cap of another bottle, taking a long swig. “For once, I’m happy to see you. Sit with me, pal. Drink with me.”

“Uh, okay . . . my lord.” Still hesitant, Glenn climbed up onto the edge, his anxious eyes glued to the drop below. “I can’t believe you called me pal—”

“Arm’s length,”I snarled.

Glenn scooted down a foot. “How long have you been up here, my lord?”

“An hour. Maybe two.”

“This is a-a-awfully high.”

“Indeed, the perfect height to push an idiot off.” I clapped Glenn hard on the back, making him yelp and start to fall over the edge before I grabbed his shirt to pull him back. “Kidding.”

Glenn clutched his chest. “Good one, my lord! Always the jester!” Probably remembering last month’sincidentwhen he hadn’t laughed at my joke, Glenn forced out a high-pitched laugh until his face turned purple.

I cringed. “That’s quite enough. And change your laugh next time; that one’s hideous.”

“Right. Of course. My apologies, my lord.” He took the bottle from my hand and downed a large gulp. Coughing, he handed it back. “Hellfire, this is diabolically strong, my lord! May I ask how many of those you’ve had?”

“Enough to come to you for advice,” I replied. “What’s it called when you want to possess something entirely, but there are obstacles in the way? Obstacles that are both internal and external?”

“I believe that’s just life, my lord?”

“Life. How repulsive.” My lips peeled back from my fangs in a sneer as I gulped down more whiskey. “Are you surprised I summoned you, demon?”

“Very, my lord.” Glenn’s eyebrows were drawn together, and he looked stiff as hell. “Especially since you summoned me away from my sudden . . . execution.”

Ah, right. The execution. “Listen, I know we’ve had our differences, Glenn. I ripped your tongue out; you screwed me over and virtually aided in the release of Ahrimad and the abduction of Scytherella. We’ve both wronged each other rather equally, have we not?”

“I’m not too sure about that, my lord. You did sever my body in half one time . . . ”

Now I was intrigued. “Truly? I don’t recall that.”

“It was thirty years ago, my lord. You said you were ‘practicing your back swing,’ I believe.”

“You healed, though, didn’t you?”

“Six weeks of raw agony later, yes.” Glenn wiped his nose and sniffed. “You’ve also tossed me into a tank of hungry sharks . . . ”

I snickered. “Oh, yes, that was hysterical.”

“Indeed,” Glenn muttered. “There’s also the fact that you stripped me of my previous identity by renaming me.”

“Your name isn’t Glenn?” I scratched at the stubble on my jaw. “Huh. Anyway, back to me. I summoned you here for a reason. To tell you that Jerry was the worst punching bag I’ve ever had.”

“Who’s Jerry?”

“Your replacement, of course.”

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