Page 24 of Death Deals

“Interesting choice.” Andre’s whisper behind me made me almost leap out of my skin. I spun on the couch to find him standing there, wearing only silk pajama bottoms. No shirt, so his well-defined chest was on full display.

I turned away from him just as fast, looking back at the show but not really seeing it at all. My entire body tingled all over.

Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around.

“I’m more into those battle cooking shows myself,” he continued. “One of my other guilty pleasures.”

“I thought you were going to bed,” I shot.

“I was, but it is a little hard when you have the volume turned up so high. Advanced hearing, remember?”

Oh, shit. That’s right. After stumbling a bit to find the volume button, I lowered the sound.

I gave him a sheepish smile. “Oops, sorry.”

He waved my apology away, then nodded toward the T.V. “The world is changing,” he said, his voice low. “There has always been death, disease, and destruction but not like this. This is something else.”

So, he had been standing there for a while, watching me.

“The apocalypse,” I said.

He nodded once.

“The one I’m supposed to stop.”

“You’re holding a lot of responsibility on your shoulders, it seems,” he replied.

“Rightly so,” I said. “All of existence is kinda relying on me.”

“Ah.”

“Why don’t you go to bed,” I snapped, annoyed he was even bothering me about this. I liked to suffer alone. “You need your beauty sleep.”

“My mind is wandering too much, I’m afraid.” He walked to the couch and sat beside me. I moved to the opposite end.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” I said. Even though I forced confidence into my tone, it still wavered. “And you can forget it.”

He smiled that mischievous smile again. “Oh? And what’s that?”

My gaze dropped to his bare chest. “You’re hoping by being here with me, I’ll give in to the blood bond.”

“Would I be opposed to it? No. Sex has always been a great stress reliever. But that isn’t why I’m here.”

“Bull.”

His chin lifted. “Why do you do that?”

“What?” I snapped and crossed my arms.

“Push away so hard.”

“Who are you? Dr. Phil?”

He rested his elbow on the armrest and dropped his forehead into his hand. Exasperated.

“Look,” I began, “I’m here because I have to be. Not because Iwantto be. If Monnie didn’t have my soul and I wasn’t in this mess—”

“But you are. He does have your soul, so here we are. Why keep resisting? You’re only making it harder on yourself.”

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