Page 75 of Death is My Ride or Die

“Here,” he grunted.

He placed it awkwardly on top of the present.

I smiled. He’d gotten me a gift.

“Lucifer wants to meet with us tomorrow morning,” Death said, his voice tight and unlike him. “Be dressed by eight.”

Then he was gone again.

I reached for the card and tore it open, recognizing Death’s neat script:It wasn’t all a lie.

I sat down on the bed, feeling as though I was floating. The present was heavy. My fingers shook a little as I pulled the silk ribbon, and it all fell away. I popped the lid to the box, and my hand slowly rose to cup my mouth.

Inside was a clear glass display container with a teddy bear inside. Not just any ordinary teddy bear, though. It was Mr. Wiggles, my childhood teddy bear from home. I knew it was him because of the red heart sewn into his chest, a patch that my grandma had made after Aunt Sarah’s dog got hold of him and tore out half his stuffing in seconds. I remembered how devastated I had been that day as I opened the glass container to run my thumb over his heart. The teddy bear’s left arm, which had been hanging on by a thread, was properly attached now, and his torso was plumper and softer, like he’d been filled with new stuffing. The big, red bow tied around his neck was rich silk.

I thought about my family and the life I’d left behind. I missed my parents so much. They were safe, and Marcy was too. But that didn’t change the fact that nothing would be the same again. And all at once, this silly old teddy bear was my everything again. I hugged Mr. Wiggles hard, bursting into tears. Imagine my surprise when his voice box, which had broken years before, went off as I squeezed him.

“I’m Mr. Wiggles, and I love to sing this song! Clap your hands and you can sing along. Be my friend and I’ll be yours. Hug me when you’re feeling blue . . . ”

The exhaustion of the night overcame me, and I slept with him clutched in my arms.

A loud crash jarred me awake.

Cruentas sat at the foot of my bed, his tail anxiously swishing back and forth. I groggily checked the alarm on the nightstand and set Mr. Wiggles aside. Three in the morning.

I heard another slam that sounded like it was from the kitchen.

Jumping from the bed, I crossed the room and unlocked the door. A month ago, I would have hidden under the covers. Now I was creeping down a dark hallway to see what all the commotion was about.

Shuffling. Cabinets rapidly opening and shutting. The sound of a glass shattering. A deep, baritone voice cursed, followed by a cold sensation shimmying down my spine. I relaxed marginally.

Rounding the corner, I peered into the kitchen. Blacker than the darkness of the kitchen, he continued rifling through cabinets, searching for something. “What are you doing?”

Death stiffened. Lowering to a hunch, he leaned over the sink and kept his back to me. “Go back to bed.”

The tension in his voice undeniably conveyed pain. I went to the wall and turned the dimmer light on halfway, my eyes widening at the mess of paper towels crumpled all over the counter.

Blood. Blood as black and oily as his demigod father’s.

Death had turned his face from the light, but not before I caught the blood streaking his cheek.

“Oh my God! What happened?”

“I’m handling it.”

He tried to maneuver past me, but I blocked his way. The fact that he didn’t try to manifest around me set off alarms in my head.

“You’re bleeding all over the floor!” I cried. “Why are you holding your stomach like that?”

“Because if I don’t myintestineswill fall out,” he snarled. “Nowmove.”

I blocked his way again. A low warning growl sounded from his throat, but I stood my ground. “I know you don’t want my help, but youneedmy help. Now stop being a stubborn ass and tell me what you’re looking for.”

Death released an aggravated noise, evidently too incapacitated to fight me. “First aid kit,” he muttered. “I thought I had a clotting dressing in the one under the sink to try to stop the bleeding, but I don’t.”

“I’ll find it for you. In the meantime, please sit down.”

Death made another disgruntled noise, like he didn’t want to be ordered around. He stepped forward to bulldoze past me and staggered. I gasped as he suddenly toppled to the side and sagged against the archway. Reaching out fast, I grabbed his arm and slung it over my shoulder, then hooked my arm around his waist, careful not to touch where his hand was clutching his gut.

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