Page 14 of A Waltz with Lord Death
What now?
Only minutes ago, she’d felt prompted to kiss him and take on a responsibility far larger than she thought herself capable of. But after what happened to Michell…
Swallowing the uncertainty rising within her, she avoided glancing down at Michell’s lifeless body as she turned toward the exit. “I need to warn the baron about the plague.”
Chapter 7
Lifespans never changed. They were a constant in Death’s reaping career that he had always been able to rely on. Timelines never changed. Fate never changed. One’s death date never changed. And as he slowly followed after Meira, he stared a hole straight through her soul.
Three weeks. Only three weeks remained of her lifespan. How was she supposed to die? Would it be an accident? Would someone kill her? Would he?
A shudder ran through him, an ache too heavy to bear weighing down on his heart as his many years as Death flashed across his mind. During the first several years as Lord Death, he’d quickly learned not to give his heart to another.
After Jesmond’s betrayal with the bear… That had been enough to swear off women forever. But he’d fallen in love again. And ended up killing her by accident with an affectionate kiss. With the next woman he’d fallen in love with, he’d been careful not to touch her unless Life was nearby to counteract his power. But his power had proven to be more powerful than even Life’s.
He’d killed her too.
And he’d been devastated beyond belief.
A familiar trickle of warmth spread through his veins as he watched Meira enter the great hall. The beginnings of love blossomed within him, but he quickly stomped on the flower and willed it to die. Rotten luck nipped at his heels no matter where he went. He did not want to see her die because of his raw, dark power, a power that had almost killed him a few months ago if it hadn’t been for Betha’s help.
But… Somehow, Meira could withstand his touch.
Three weeks.
The reminder punched his gut again and again until he could hardly breathe. He had never died before Life had saved him after the bear attack. He was not like the spirits in the otherworld, and therefore could not have any physical relationship with them. He could only have a physical relationship with either a mortal or an immortal like himself. If he pursued Meira, he would only have her for three weeks.
Unless she became Lady Life.
The hesitancy in her eyes after Michell’s death was unmistakable. But perhaps he might try to convince her again.
“Your Lordship!” Meira cried, startling him out of his thoughts. She rushed toward the hearth, her breathing ragged as if she’d just run up an entire flight of stairs.
What in the blazes?
He watched her charade in amusement as he continued to approach but stopped several feet away. She clutched her head, her breathing even more ragged. Each of the nobles leaped to their feet, fear in their wide eyes. He checked himself for a moment. No. He wasn’t visible. Only to Meira but not to them.
“Tell us what you see!” the baron cried.
“I see…” Meira gasped. “I see…”
Suddenly, her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she cried out before she crumpled to the floor, taking great, heaving breaths.
“Death be merciful,” he muttered under his breath as he averted his gaze to the ceiling. “I am so embarrassed.”
Yet, judging by her audience’s captivated attention, they were completely engrossed in her performance and didn’t share his sentiment.
The female noble rushed forward as if to help her up, but the baron cut her off by holding out an arm. “Don’t touch her!” he warned. “You might cut her vision short.”
Finally, Meira pushed herself onto shaky legs, her eyes squinting as if against a bright light. She held one hand to her head, the other to her throat. Each person leaned forward, every sliver of their attention on her. A gasp from her mouth startled everyone, but he only managed to groan and averted his gaze again. Fortune tellers… They were so…theatrical.
“You must prepare yourselves.” Meira’s jaw quivered. “Infant passing and famine are only the beginning. A plague is headed this way. Beware. Beware!”
A flurry of activity came to life before him from shouting to Meira’s fainting. The young nobleman just barely managed to catch her before she hit the floor. The sight of her limp body shot a hole straight through his heart, but he quickly placed a hand on his chest to still its frantic beating as he reminded himself this was an act. Meira was fine. Her lifespan still said three weeks.
But when the nobleman gathered her in his arms and she continued to lie limp against him, his stomach dropped to the floor. She was all right, wasn’t she?
A second wave of panic raced through him. He searched her face while he kept up with the other man’s long strides as he carried her through the halls. What if his touch had hurt her? What if she wasn’t immune to his power of destruction as he’d thought earlier?
