Page 102 of Death is My Ride or Die

“Could you walk me in?” I asked.

Death tugged the helmet off, a few locks of dark hair tumbling over his forehead. “Can’t. It’s hallowed ground. Nervous about your date?” I could tell another hostile comment had been chopped off at the end. I cast an uneasy look through the window of the shop.

“I got a bad feeling,” I said. “When I touched the handle of the door. Are you sure there isn’t any way you can come inside? Make sure Ace is okay?”

“Ah, let him die. He’s lived a long life.”

“Death.”

Death shut off his bike with an aggravated groan. “Since when are you getting ‘bad feelings,’ cupcake?”

“Since I met you.”

Shooting me a flat look, Death closed the distance between himself and the store and stopped at the entrance. Before we left the apartment, he had swapped his black t-shirt for an armored black chest piece that laced down the front to his tapered waist. Paired with a long leather coat with a cowl, he looked like an assassin ready for battle. Death lifted his gloved hands slightly out at his sides, darkness collecting in his palms. He sent the shadows forward, and when they connected with the door, a web of energy revealed itself. The magic crackled and sparked, and the shadows hissed and howled before tearing themselves free and retreating back into Death’s hands.

“Ace must be in the process of resetting his ward,” Death said. “This one is weak. Temporary. I can break through it, but it may cost me a hand. Stay back.”

He gripped the door handle before I could process that statement. His enormous frame stiffened as if he’d stuck his finger into an outlet. Tendrils of violet light pulsed to life around the store and latched on to Death’s gloved hand. Leather and flesh seared.

“Oh, crap!” I lurched toward him, but Death ripped the door open with a menacing growl and loosed a ragged breath. The magic died off.

Under his hood, Death had an untamed look in his eyes. His monster side had awakened again. He blinked, and he was back.

Baring his fangs in a smile that was a distant cousin of polite, Death made a show of holding the door open and gesturing inside with his charred hand. “Ladies first.”

I stepped past him into the Crossroads, my eardrums popping like bubble wrap.

Death pulled a new leather glove from his pocket. I grimaced at the sight of bone along his fingers. “Ouch.”

Right before my eyes, he began to heal, pink stretching across the bone before he shoved the glove on. “Barely feel it,” he growled. “It’s the constant hymn music in my ears that’s pissing me off.”

I frowned.

“Hallowed ground,” Death said, as if that were the obvious answer. “Let’s go find your new boyfriend.”

We passed crystals, meditation trinkets, and other paraphernalia before entering the vast library. As we traveled down a row of bookshelves toward Ace’s séance room, someone slunk into our path.

“Evening,” said Master Vampire Duncan. His silvery hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and he wore a tailored suit. “Fancy running into you two again.”

“You again,” I said in disbelief. “You’re not even trying to be subtle. Don’t you have anything better to do than creep on me all the time?”

Death swiveled his head in my direction.

“Duncan was here last time,” I explained. “Watching me and Ace while we were hanging out—”

Death shunted me behind him, and my eyes widened as darkness consumed the tall shelving on either side of us. He prowled toward the vampire. “Stalking, are we, leech?”

“Now calm down, Your Highness.” Duncan showed his palms as he backed up. “I’m browsing some reading material. Last time I checked, this property doesn’tbelongto you. Ace is a neutral warlock, mate.”

Death halted in his steps, albeit reluctantly. Light slowly returned to the room.

“Touchy. Very touchy.” Duncan reached a long-fingered hand to a random book beside him. “You’re in enough shit with Lucifer already; best to play nice with others, hmm? Iamon Hell’s comity.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Death seethed.

“You think you can remove me? Yes, I’m sure Lucifer completely trusts your opinion on business matters as of late. All of Hell knows you dropped the bag winning over your precious mortal prize, and that’s why you lost your scythe. I wonder . . . ” He tapped his chin with a pointed nail. “Is that why Lucifer’s been traveling all over the world as Devin Star, continuing your little Hollywood ruse rather than helping you find your scythe?”

Death fell silent, and I could tell this guy was getting to him.

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