Page 79 of Death is My Ride or Die

My attention snapped to Devin. To my aunt.“What?”

Aunt Sarah had given him the book.

“How could you do this?” I cried.

But as I stared into her wide, terrified eyes, I understood. She had been willing to die to stop this, until he’d broken her. Somehow, he’d broken her.

“I felt it would be best to test our theory straightaway,” Devin said.

My heart beat a thousand times per minute. “You have theBook of the Dead? In this room?”

“Indeed,” Devin murmured, those sharp, glacier eyes unblinking. “Although, you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Coldness slipped down my spine. I could sense Death slinking somewhere nearby, the shadows in the room shifting with him.

Thump.

I looked down at what the Devil had dropped on the table in front of Aunt Sarah. A small, pocket-sized book. Devin distanced himself a few feet. He wore thick gloves on his hands that were disintegrating right before my eyes with a yellowish smoke.

“Sarah,” Devin said in a velvet voice. “Your turn.”

Aunt Sarah lowered her eyes to the book, a tear sliding down her cheek. She took a deep breath and laid her hand directly on it.

“I, Sarah Pierce,” she began, her voice tremulous, “your loyal protector, pass you to my blood, Faith Williams.”

My heart fell.

She slid theBook of the Deadacross the table, inches away from me. Stones swirled in an intricate design on a black leather cover, and four old latches bound the pages together.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Thisis theBook of the Dead?” I asked. “It’s just a diary.”

But as I continued to stare at the little book, an eerie feeling came over me.

It was watching me too.

Devin and Sarah were speaking, their voices fading into the distance. The air crackled against my fingertips, that odd tethering sensation snapping suddenly like a rubber band. TheBook of the Deadslid sharply across the table to me, and I froze.

Everyone fell silent. Aunt Sarah had gone pale, and the Devil was grinning from ear to ear.

“Please,” Devin said, motioning to the glass table before us, “have a seat.”

“Hell no,” I said. “You can go pound salt.”

Devin arched a golden brow. “Excuse me?”

“If I can read this thing, then you’ll make me your bitch,” I said, rolling my shaking fingers into fists. “You’ll use me for whatever sick, evil plan you have, and I’d rather die than be a part of it.”

Aunt Sarah smiled with unspoken pride at my response, though her mouth turned down as the Devil sauntered closer to the table.

“I’m afraid, my dear,” the Devil drawled, “youdying is not on the schedule for today.”

A snapping noise whipped through the air from behind him, and Aunt Sarah cried out with a gurgling choke. My eyes widened as I realized it was a long, ropytailthat had impaled her throat, the deadly arrowhead embedding into her carotid artery.

“No!”I started toward her when leather bit into my forearm. Death manifested beside me and pulled me sharply into him. And what I found in his face was frighteningly cold and monstrous. Darkness spread out from his towering frame, and the tattoos along his neck slithered up his face like deadly cobras.

I writhed against Death’s hold, but it was like trying to bend steel.

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