Page 122 of Death is My Ride or Die

Prickles of heat pulsed between my legs.

“Have some class,” I said with a coy smile,“Grim.”I visualized an orb of light in my palm and threw out my hand. The power obeyed as blue and white fractured the air with a crackle and fired, nailing Death in the stomach.

I’d pictured him flying back like a rag doll and slamming into the metal structure behind him. Metal would ring out, and he’d blink rapidly as imaginary birdies flew around his head. Instead, the energy seeped into his inhuman obsidian skin like a sponge. The only evidence that I’d hit him was a low hiss that escaped from his fanged mouth and the smoke steaming off his abs where I’d burned him.

“I see how it is,” Death purred, his head still bowed. Tendrils of soft black hair tumbled over his forehead as he reared to his full menacing height. “Let the battle begin. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, cupcake.”

He moved in a blur. Deadly talons sliced through the air, grazing my throat as I scarcely evaded his swipe at my face. Adrenaline slammed into me, but I couldn’t react fast enough as his body twisted in the air, his foot connecting with my stomach.

I went flying, catching myself at the last second on the wooden crates as I collided into them.

Pain exploded. The blow left me winded, and I bit hard on my lip before a howl ripped from my throat. Trembling, I looked down at the wood impaling the back of my right thigh like a shish kebab and saw black splotches. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to jerk my leg outward to free myself, but Death’s fist wrapped around the spike, keeping me pinned.

“Not so fast,” Death rasped against my ear, manifesting beside me in a whirl of shadows. The talon connected to his thumb brushed my upper thigh, and his power sank into me like hot oil, mingling with the pain. My whole body shivered deliciously. “You won’t always have an easy way out with the enemy.” His lips hovered over my cheek. “Or be unaffected by their allure.”

The all-consuming agony of this moment made me aware of my humanity. “You arenotkeeping me impaled here,” I gasped out, “like an hors d’oeuvre . . . to teach me a lesson.”

He grinned. “How about you hand over those panties, and I promise to only toss you around a little more before humiliating you with a defeat.”

“Do those big, ghastly horns . . . get in the way of your brain cells? I’d rather drink bleach than let you win.”

“That can be arranged,” he purred. “How’s it feel to be impaled by my wood?”

“Barely feel it.” My teeth grated when he pressed his thigh into mine, making the wood go further in. A nasty curse flew out as my hand smacked into his bare chest to push him away. It was like trying to move a mountain. Layers and layers of rock-hard strength. “Besides the river of blood running down my leg and the splotches in my vision, this is a walk in the park,” I panted.

“A little blood is normal during your first impalement,” Death said, raising one of his talons to his mouth and making a show of licking away my blood. “Tasty.”

“Sleeping during the day, soul-sucking one-liners, hidden lairs, eerie insinuations that my beet juice is seasoned just right. Sure you aren’t a confused vampire?”

He scowled. “I am not a tick.”

“But you are a prick,” I quipped. “Two letters away from a major identity crisis.”

He smirked, although I was pretty sure it was to show off his razor-sharp teeth. “Mortal blood tastes like cheap wine. However, if you were to offer a bit offlesh. . . ”

“My attraction to you is the most mystifying thing of the century.”

His eyes lingered on my lips. “Beyond a shadow of doubt.”

He unwrapped his hand from the bloody wooden stake and pulled me forward by the hips until they pressed against his.

“Motherfu—!”

Death’s laugh boomed as he slunk around my peripheral vision.

“You know, my blood could heal your thigh,” Death said, moving toward the clearing in the warehouse. Catlike green eyes burned wickedly bright. “I’ll make sure to give it attention when you’re sitting on my face later.”

Biting the bullet, I gave a warrior’s cry and charged while he waited with a shit-eating grin. His whole body vanished right before I hit him, dark tendrils clouding my vision. Coming to an agonizing halt, I grabbed at my leg and tried to breathe through the pain that exploded like firecrackers in my leg and my back.

“That’sit.” I tore a strip off my shirt like a madwoman and secured it around the wound on my thigh. Then I concentrated on my bloody fingertips until blue sparks came to life. Soon my entire fist was made of light and fire. “No more playing with me like I’m your ball of yarn, Angel of Dipshit. I’m going to fry you so good you’ll start talking in Shakespearean.”

A massive shadow cast over the floor.

“Your analogy is incorrect,” Death purred. “I’m much more violent with my ball of yarn.”

I tore my eyes up, tendrils of darkness melding back together to form Death’s menacing figure. He stood on a metal beam above me, where hundreds of industrial arms crisscrossed and stretched horizontally across the warehouse. His enormous frame blocked out most of the light fixture behind him, giving his dark silhouette an ironically angelic aura. I pictured those inky, wicked wings spreading out on either side of him.

“Why did you fall, Death?”

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