Page 119 of Immortal Sun

Subway is long forgotten.

I don’t back down, but I also don’t know where I could possibly even run as he stands and starts walking toward me, every step purposeful, methodical.

My mouth goes dry.

My world is no longer my own.

Reality has been drowned in the depths of myth and fantasy.

“Don’t look too long into an immortal’s eyes or you’ll see your own demise,” they had all said.

They were right.

The eyes are the windows to the soul and theirs are so old it’s painful to watch. Their eyes kill. They destroy. They reveal too much.

My own burn. I blink away the feel of sand in them.

I scrape my brain, trying to think of who he really is when he stops in front of the cave and slowly tilts his head to the side like a cat. “Afraid?”

His voice is so quiet I almost wish he would yell. “No.”

He grabs his sword and then stabs it into the ground between us and twists. “You really should learn to respect your immortal elders.”

“Apparently immortal elders want to kill me.”

“Elders want to save the world,” he snaps back. “Now, watch, the way we have for centuries.”

He leaves his sword in the sand and then crooks his finger. “Want to know me?”

Well, now I don’t.

I nod anyway.

“I’m Daggon, God of Fertility from Mesopotamia. I’m older than you could possibly fathom, you small human,” he whispers and then reaches through the cave and grabs me by the arm, hauling me out and against him. He’s warm. Sex personified. He smells like the earth. “I hold my breath for years, I make the oceans plenty, and I destroy anything out to destroy my creations. I can incinerate you with one small snap of my fingers.”

His breath is warm on my neck. He examines me like he’s curious, and then he smiles and tilts his head the other way. “Shall I kiss you now?”

“Shall I kill you now?” I counter.

His grin is menacing and beautiful all at once. “I would love to see you try.” He shoves me back into the cave and then falters a bit. Stumbles backwards actually, then reaches for me again.

I don’t know what the hell he’s doing until his mouth presses against mine, he bites down on my lip.

I taste blood.

The red drains from his eyes. He shakes his head. “You’re death itself, aren’t you?” I’m thrown back across the mouth of the cave and land on the ground.

He wipes his mouth.

“What do you mean?” I yell.

He keeps wiping his mouth and grips his sword by the hilt to stand. “I see my future in your eyes. It isn’t promising.”

“How?” I ask.

“How indeed?” he counters. “Go finish writing your names.”

“What’s your future?” I yell.

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