Page 49 of Death is My Ride or Die

“What a fantastic idea, cupcake.” He gave me a pointed once-over that made me sweat a little before he jabbed a leather-clad finger down a hallway. “Bedrooms. Pick whichever guest room you want, I don’t care. Just know that Cruentas has a thing about the ones to the right.”

I blinked. “Cruentas, as in,your horse?”

“Any door that’s locked stays locked,” Death continued like I hadn’t even spoken. Somebody was running low on his social interaction battery. “All calls coming out of here are screened, and you’ll be provided a new cell phone.”

I patted my pockets. “Where’s my phone?”

“I yoinked it from your pocket an hour ago and crushed it.”

“What?”

“RIP.” He checked his watch. “As of thirty minutes ago, a few of my subordinates went to your parents’ home and changed their memories. They believe you’re away at an accelerated program for the arts where you have little reception. When shifting the memories of a mortal, it’s best to give them something believable to replace reality. Hence, why we sent you to Dweeb University.”

I gave him a flat look. “Will you send those subordinates to find Marcy now too?”

“Didn’t I already tell you I would?”

I really wished I could use my power at will, so I could fry his ass.

“TV is loaded with all the boob tube mortal crap. HBO Max, Prime, Netflix. Video games. Password for the fridge and any pantry doors is 666. No, I didn’t pick that, and no, I don’t have any kids. Cruentas can open doors.”

The second mention of his horse had me spinning around as if the giant stallion would come charging out of nowhere.

“If you need me, don’t,” Death said. “Call Leo instead.”

“And how do I call Leo?”

“There’s contact information on the touchscreens, located in every room. Use those until I get you the new phone.”

Then he just turned and walked away from me.

He started to fade, but I picked up a ceramic vase and chucked it him.

Death turned, his body almost entirely shadow as his hand snatched the vase in midair, and he became corporeal again. “You better have a damn good reason,” he snarled.

“Sorry,” I said quickly, wetting my dry lips. “Actually, no, I’mnotsorry. You were about to leave again without giving me any closure, and I’m not going to stand for it.” It felt like my skin was slowly simmering underneath that hidden glare of his. “I—I need to have a conversation with you about what happened at Spades.”

Death went quiet for a long, dangerous moment. I imagined he was contemplating grating me like a block of cheese in the kitchen.

“You know Ace was telling the truth,” I pressed on. “We both were in that vision. If we don’t go together, couldn’t that affect you getting your scythe?”

Death’s jaw tightened. “Since when do you care about my scythe?”

“You seem to be the only one who can face off against Ahrimad and Malphas. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt or taken like Marcy.”

Death flexed his gloved hands and lowered his head so that his hood shadowed his face like an assassin.

“I really think Ace is trying to help you,” I pressed.

“We only gave Ace the time of day today to ensure he stays in line. He could have reported me to the Elders in Heaven and screwed me into another punishment. If he truly wanted to help us, he wouldn’t have humiliated you by forcing you on dates with him because he thinks we’re fucking.”

“He’s hurt, and yes, he’s clearly feeling vindictive. But can you blame him?”

Death took a step forward. “Let me be perfectly clear,” he growled. “I work alone. And if I wanted a sidekick, which I don’t, you would be thelast personin this entire irritating realm that I would choose. You’re emotional, stubborn, soft, and . . .friendly.” He made “friendly” sound like a dirt sandwich between two pieces of wet cardboard. “Not to mention, you have the coordination of a puffin.”

“What the hell is a puffin?”

“I’m not your Google.”

---