Page 10 of Last Breath

“We have company?” she chirps excitedly. “Well then, you best make my fucking dinner.”

“Bitchy old lady you got there. Nurse?”

I’ve yet to tear my eyes away from his mesmerizing green ones. I’m afraid to. I think of it like a lion at the zoo—don’t show fear. Surprisingly, the comment from Gran shocks him slightly. Unsure why, I tell him, “Family obligation.”

Wiping the side of his face, coming away with a hand covered in red, he slaps them together with a thunderous crack. “I’d love to have dinner with you, Joy.”

“You’re not invited.”

Raising his fully coated hand, stroking a tainted finger down my cheek, his smile becomes blindingly brilliant. It seems unnaturally wide.

Ignoring the lack of invitation, he asks, “What are we having?”

Annoyed by him now, I answer once more with, “You’renot invited.”

“If I’m coming to dinner, you should know my name. That’s polite. My name is Malachi.”

Narrowing my eyes and raising a brow, I’m taken aback by his audacity. HethinksI want to have dinner with him?

“What was it that made you feel I invited you?”

“What’s taking you so long, Mal? I thought you were tired—”

Pausing on the other side of the torn screen, another beautiful, sinister, and awe-inspiring soul gapes at me before looking to his friend. “Your abandoned home radar seems broken, Malachi.” Even as his smile seems sweet, I only see another covered in darkness, death, and disaster. His face isn’t as coated in blood, but there’s an inevitability of danger about him.

Where Malachi has a devilish charm, this other man is altogether different. His calm and silent demeanor attracts death. It hangs from his frame, cloying at his pores.

“I’m Salem.”

Salem. Malachi. What interesting names. Still, it’s spooky and strange that they’re inviting themselves in. Annoying, actually.

“Hi,” I respond cooly before turning back to Malachi. “Why are you here?” I ask him.

Piping up, totally ignoring my comment, he speaks to Salem. “Joy was just inviting us to dinner.”

“That would be fantastic. We’re starving for goodChristianhospitality. You’re a saint, Joy.” Salem’s fake amusement scares me slightly, but something about him attracts me too.

Yelling from the other room, adding to the tension, Gran is annoyed with me avoiding her. “Sweetie, where’s my dinner?”

I shout out over Malachi’s shoulder, “Let me get it ready, Gran! I’ll bring you in soon.” I’m equally frustrated by their boldness and scared of denying them. Denying them may get us killed. Obviously, by the blood, they have no issue with destruction and mayhem, and saying no could be the tipping point. This is a no-win situation, and I’m notabout to show fear.

“We shouldn’t keep the old lady waiting,” Malachi quips off with a smirk. Or at least I think he’s smirking under all that blood.

Walking off toward the kitchen, not looking to see if the two of them follow, I snap, “The bathroom is on the left. You’re not eating with me covered in gore. Go wash up.”

Turning heel, standing at the counter and releasing a stiff breath, I wash my hands.

“Inviting themselves,” I mumble as I peel back the bad lettuce leaves. “Who breaks into a house and invites themselves to dinner?”

Selecting a few leaves for my salad—nowoursalad—I knock the tops off the beets and carrots, then pop the seams off the peas. As I’m angrily starting the meal, the two men walk in. Narrowing my gaze, totally expecting the same dark and dangerous pair, I’m gladly amazed.

Finding Malachi close,too close,I’m shocked by his rugged good looks. Now that his face is clean, his dark beauty is different than I first assumed. What I considered a wide grin is actually a set of deep scars coursing both cheeks with jagged and torn skin, repaired in a haphazard way. It adds to the darkness of his features. Does it scare me? No. It’s beautiful in a dark way.

“Sweetie!” Shit. Listening, I notice again that her music has stopped.

Fuck me. This day is getting crazier by the minute. Rinsing my hands and wiping them on the tea cloth tucked in my pant top, I call out nicely, “I’ll be right there, Gran.”

Eyeballing the men, I wonder if it’s safe to leave them alone. Do I trust them? Do I trust them at all? No.

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