Death is My BFFLAD Rewritten (Book 2 of the Rewritten Death Chronicles)

Chapter 8: Psycho Bond

IMPORTANT: Sorry for all the uploads–the format of the chapter kept getting messed up when I published it and everything became squished. D:

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*Death feverishly twerks* 

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Trixie lead us through a crowd of humans and creatures, whose illusions occasionally flickered away. My mind was still spinning from the press of Death's lips on mine. We neared a topless woman making out with a beautiful man with shoulder length black hair. As we I got closer, there was a ripple over the couple, and the beautiful man grew paler, then grey, with foul rotting skin that triggered my gag reflexes. His mouth was a bloodbath of fangs and ripped flesh at the woman's neck. He was feeding. Drinking a human's blood.

Look away.

It was too late. The vampire's black eyes flicked up to mine. Just like that, I was held motionless and he was held with interest. His eyes were cold, set in stone like the thin bridge of his nose and his cleanly shaved jaw. He released his bloody fangs from his prey and he stared at me, his illusion went in and out. Beautiful man. Monster. Beautiful man. No. NO! My vision tunneled. I was consumed with heat and a spell that lifted my hand towards the vampire. It was just me and it.

Tossing the topless woman to the side, the gorgeous vampire stood and closed the gap between us with a few fluid strides. He held my outstretched hand to kiss it. His nails were long and like glass as they brushed my fingers, and then my cheek. I leaned my head into his icy palm.

It gazed admirably at me. "So beautiful."

"So beautiful," I sighed dreamily.

I should have caught up to Death. I should have latched onto his leather jacket and never let go, but now I was stuck drooling over a walking sex bomb. Which wasn't really a new thing for me, but this sex bomb looked like a naked mole rat beneath his façade, whereas the other sex bomb in my life was a walking sculpture of deliciousness hand carved by Michelangelo...

Oh my god, this vampire was making me more sexually frustrated than I already was! Impossible!

"So...pure."

"So pure," I echoed again. The vampire's mouth parted, revealing long K9's that would be no match to my psycho punk BFF.

Speaking of mentally unstable.

The vampire began to lean into me, when a large leather gloved hand enveloped his throat and squeezed hard. The vampire's eyes bugged out like one of those eye-popping stress toys.

"So...not happening," Death hissed and threw the vampire back over the glass railing to our right, into the first story dance floor.

I leaned over the railing to my right and stared numbly at the reaction of the crowd below with a tranquil, distant smile pulling at my lips. "What a nice man..." Then I locked on the lights dancing on the ceiling of the club and zoned out.

A livid, delicious monster clad in black leather, stepped into my line of vision. He'd wedged himself between the railing, and me, leaving a portion of his sharp tattooed features exposed to light, but his eyes, as always, remained in the shadows.

"No socializing," he growled out, ticking off his gloved fingers in front of my face, "no dancing, no drinking, no eye contact, and no Faithing. I asked four things of you. You are literally the most infuriating woman to ever exist. You could have... Hello?" His next words were heavy with jealousy. "Did that pretty fuck really affect you this strongly?"