Page 18 of The Cruelest Undead

He was pissed off.

“This is bad,” he warned. This caused a shit ton of problems in the universe. One couldn’t just reanimate the dead for shits and giggles.

It was against the rules, as far as he was aware. Then again, Death and Fate didn’t play by the rules a whole lot—thus how they’d gotten into this situation.

“How did you get here?” he asked, his voice booming through the room as that anger filled him.

Both humans took a step back able to detect that this man wasNOTthe one to mess with when he wanted answers.

Finally, Flynn’s mother answered him.

“I don’t know,” Barb admitted. “I don’t know where I am. I can’t remember much of anything,” she answered.

Then, she was curious.

“Who are you?” she asked again. “Do you know my son?”

Because the room was filled with tension, Flynn’s father put himself in front of his wife to protect her from what he believed to be a threat.

This was a whole lot of creepy, and to freak them out…that was saying a lot.

The most eerie thing about all of this was that Flynn looked just like his father.

If he could age, this was what he would have looked like at some point.

Flynn’s father was just as handsome as he was.

As he moved to protect his wife, something Flynn would do too, they moved back a step.

Cautiously.

Oh, not because they could hurt them, but because they weren’t sure this wasn’t Fate gunning for them.

“I don’t remember either. Please don’t hurt us. Where is our son?” John asked, looking around as he protected his wife.

Shit.

Could this be Fate messing with them?

This would be right up her alley to distract Rinnon’s vessel and damage Flynn.

If they were innocent of this, Jacques didn’t want to hurt them. If they were, indeed, Flynn’s parents, he would be upset if something happened to them again.

They all knew how hard their deaths affected him in his past.

It put him on the path he was on.

Now, they might be back.

“Jacques, I wanted them back for Flynn. He was hurting and I wished they could see him.”

He blinked, and that nictitating membrane covered his eye, and then disappeared. It was very snake-like, but Jolie had other things to worry about.

Like the two, no-longer-dead people in their kitchen.

Because he needed answers, Death moved toward his mate, needing to find out if what she said was behind this.

He wasn’t sure how this happened, and that had to be the first step in handling this mess.

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