Page 8 of The Death God

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He didn’t have a clue what to do. He didn’t think he’d ever be part of human society, but how was he supposed to live? Should he get a job? How could he? He didn’t know if he had a social security number. He should, right? Or had he been reported dead? He’d been gone for thirty-one years. There were no school records, no contact with any authorities, no driver’s license, no passport, no identity card, or anything along those lines.

“How do you live when you don’t exist on paper? They make it look easy in movies, but no one knows I’m alive, and if the wrong people figure it out…” Then he wouldn’t want to be alive any longer.

Zidane didn’t reply.

“I’d rather not go back to sucking cock for food and a roof over my head. I’m probably too old anyway. Johns want pretty, young guys, right? And I don’t think I can do women, to be honest. I mean, I don’t want to do anyone, but…And if I sell my prophecies, people will find me. I don’t think many can do what I do.”

He stroked a strand of hair out of Zidane’s face.

“Prophecy always makes it sound as if he’s the special one, but all he does are normal prophecies. There is nothing special about it. I bet ten people, if not more, can do what he does in the house of horrors. And sure, he might have more control than others, but it’s still not…Or maybe it is. I don’t know. Maybe he’s awesome.”

He stared at the wall until the uneven gray stones melted together.

“I’ll let you rest in peace now.” He took a step away and realized what he’d said. “I didn’t mean I’d kill you, not that kind of rest in peace.” He checked Zidane’s death. Still beheaded in a snowy landscape by someone with clawed hands. “It’s still yeti ripping your head off.” He patted Zidane’s foot. “Nothing to worry about yet.”

Fuck, he was tired, and his body ached. He dragged himself up the stairs and into his room where he had a long, hot shower, and then tried to sleep in his bed.

He woke up screaming fifteen minutes later and padded out into the kitchen only to freeze on the threshold as he spotted Gregory by the table. For a few seconds, neither of them moved, and then Thanatos took a deep breath and entered the room.

“What ‘cha making?”

Thanatos jumped at Gregory’s voice. “I don’t know.”

The cake pan was empty and most of the bread rolls were gone. He grabbed a zip lock bag, stuffed the remaining rolls in it, and put it on the counter next to the coffee maker.

Coffee. He might need some coffee. He glanced at Gregory over his shoulder. “Do you want coffee?”

“Do you have more cake?”

Shaking his head, Thanatos walked over to the pantry and retrieved a large glass jar of chocolate chip cookies. Gregory’s eyes widened when he placed it on the table and pushed it, so it slid into Gregory’s reach. “Chocolate chip is the best I can do.”

He went to put on coffee without meeting Gregory’s gaze. Shortly after, he heard the lid being lifted off the jar. He smiled to himself, but when Gregory’s chair scraped, he dropped the coffee measuring spoon and coffee grounds dusted all over the counter and floor.

With a distressed sound, he threw himself away to increase the distance between him and Gregory.

Silence stretched. Thanatos was growing dizzy from holding his breath and sucked in air before he looked at Gregory. He stood stock still by his chair.

“I was getting cups.”

“Oh…”

His eyes turned hard. “What the fuck did you think I’d do?”

A buzz was building in Thanatos’ ears. “I…eh…I’ll clean up later.” He turned and fled the kitchen.

Chapter 4

Gregory swept the kitchen floor and cleaned the counter, then he finished making the coffee. How the fuck would they be able to convince people they were lovers if Thanatos panicked as soon as Gregory moved? Shifters had better noses than vampires did. They’d pick up on him being scared in a heartbeat, and it would not look good if his lover feared him.

He waited while the coffee maker gurgled, then poured himself a cup and grabbed another chocolate chip cookie. Thanatos had come a long way with his cooking skills in only two months. It was impressive.

Maybe he should go with Prophecy instead. No. He’d most likely kill him before they arrived at Alaric’s. Minerva? How well did Alaric know him? Could he convincingly pretend to be bi? He liked Minerva. Would have liked her more if she’d smartened up and allowed them to kick Prophecy out, but he doubted it would happen anytime soon. Hopefully, she’d come to her senses at some point. Or Prophecy would change his entire personality, but that seemed less likely.

Maybe he could make like look like love. But if Alaric had done his homework…He had to assume he had. You didn’t invite someone to your home without investigating them, not someone from an almost enemy species. Fuck.

He’d sweet-talk Thanatos. Starting with bringing him coffee. Gregory was considerate like that. Pouring a second cup, he grabbed them both.

“Oh, for me?” Minerva grinned at him as she entered the kitchen.