Page 34 of Chaos
I squinted at him. “If you get any more relaxed, you’ll turn into a statue.” I’d seen him angry before, but generally speaking, Grim was like a smooth lake. You couldn’t ever really tell what was going on below the surface. There was probably a huge fucking alligator under there, ready to eat everyone.
“Isn’t that a bit of a contradiction? Wouldn’t I have to be tense to be a statue?”
Was he being playful? Was this his version of joking around?
“They’re also emotionless, stoic, unmoving. Like you.”
His brows furrowed ever so slightly. “I am not emotionless.”
“Oh yeah? Have you looked in a mirror lately? You have the quietest face I’ve ever seen.”
A small furrow appeared between his brows. “A quiet face?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Like some people have incredibly expressive faces. One look, and you know exactly what the person is thinking or feeling even if they never utter a word. Others, like you, have all the emotion of a porcelain doll.” Then I leaned a bit closer and peered into his eyes.
“What are you doing?” he asked, immediately stiffening at my proximity.
“Not your eyes, though,” I murmured, not answering his question but my own. “Your eyes can be incredibly loud if one cares to pay attention.”
Those silver orbs were infinite molten pools most of the time, but right now they telegraphed every single thing he was struggling to hold back. I scared him. But I couldn’t figure out why for the life of me.
What could Death possibly be afraid of?
“Step back, Merri.” His voice was rough and tight, but he didn’t break our eye contact.
“Why?”
“You are a breath away from ending your own life. Step. Back.”
“You’re wearing gloves.”
“It’s not my hands you should be worried about.”
I snorted. “You can’t kill me by breathing on me.”
“No, but if you were to trip and stumble into me, your skin coming into contact with any part of mine would be the end of you.”
I almost laughed at the ridiculous image that brought to mind. The only thing that checked the impulse was the sincerity in his gaze.
“Seems a little extreme.”
He shook his head and trained his eyes on the ground. “Perhaps, but it’s the truth.”
“So even a slight touch from you kills?”
Without looking at me, he removed his gloves and reached out to the well-manicured shrub nearest us. One brush of his finger had the greenery turning brown and shriveling in seconds.
“Shit,” I whispered.
He truly did want to keep me safe. From whoever was after meandfrom him.
“Comes with the territory.”
“But you’ve touched the others. Why are they immune?”
“We’re the same. Whatever it is that made us immortal protects them from the worst of me.”
“But I didn’t get sick when Malice touched me. Why is it different for him but not you?”
