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I had to work around the thick blinds that drooped down the glass door to cut a hole in David Star's office door.
Before I even attempted to push out the handle, I received the odd sensation that what I had done was way too easy. It could have very well been the fact that my stomach had begun to uncomfortably cramp. Cautiously, I peeked through the blinds into the short hallway into the waiting room.
I was too shocked to shriek.
"Ciao, bella," a deep voice purred in Italian from the other side of the door. In one fluid motion, a leather glove punched through the circle I had created, knocking the weighted handle onto my toe, got a firm grip on the center of my shirt, and yanked me against the glass, my warm cheek slamming against the cool glass. The impact had shook my whole jaw. I was almost positive it should have dislocated. "Did you honestly think I would leave you alone longer than thirty minutes after the way you screwed me over?" He let out a low, slow laugh that flipped my stomach over with a spatula. "That would be a gift."
In the corner of my eye I could see Death's tall, muscular frame. My gums lit on fire and my toes curled in rage. I bit down on my inner mouth and stayed silent, trying to pull my cheek from the cool glass. Game over.
"Hungry?" Death swung open the door a little and shook a paper bag in his hand, his other hand still gripping my shirt, pinning me to the opposite side of the door. I inhaled the air and the intoxicating smell of his cologne, mixed with everything bagels and vegetable cream cheese made my mouth water. "I went to get a pack of cigarettes and ended up getting thirty-five bagels. I would have gotten forty, but if that annoying hag behind the counter asked me one more time if I wanted a bag of free chips with every five bagels, I would have blew a hole in her AAARP card and run her over with a car. I'm a little bit edgy. Can't have any more 'accidents' these days, you know."
"I hate bagels," I lied, trying to free one of my hands from whatever force he had against them, nailing them to the glass. "I'm full. That double-decker soul really hit the spot."
Death snorted. "None of them were for you, anyways."
He then let go of my shirt. I stumbled backwards, but instead of tumbling over myself and falling in between the coffee table and sofa like I normally would have, I regained my balance almost immediately and prepared to attack the hell out of the bastard.
"Jerk," I muttered bitterly.
"Sweetie," Death growled gutturally, walking fully into the room. The width of his shoulders filling the door frame, and I could have sworn my heart stopped beating. The first thing my eyes skirted to was the cross-shaped, horrendous burn on his face, then slightly dropped to a pair of the most haunting, terrifying looking iridescent green eyes.
Those eyes...
Eyes trained on me, Death casually tossed the bag behind him and it landed right in the middle of the large mahogany desk. "Don't look so shocked, cupcake. This isn't the first time we've met." His gaze fell on my outfit, and if I was seeing things clearly, they lit with green fire. "Nor the first time I've wanted to grate you on my pasta and put it on my blog," he added throatily, then, "Nice jacket."
In my mind, my reaction to Death's true identity--in person, at least, had been a whole lot different. I thought I had accepted the fact that Death's sharp cut, even features and magnificent body were the type of beautiful that made your thought process go limp, your eyes roll back, and your toes curl. But I hadn't been prepared at all for the modern Death.
I hadn't been prepared for the constant fight I would have to not cross the space between us. The dangerous rise in my temperature at his stare, the twitch in my eye. I hadn't been prepared for Death to be a walking, living magnet. I started to believe I was literally Death's opposite, because with every each inch we came closer, I was battling against my instant to draw closer to him, and praying the magnetic pull he clearly had on me wasn't because I was poisoned.
There was an obvious edgy, lazy sex appeal to the bastard easily owned. I was not quick to say something was perfect because was someone who never believed perfection even existed. But Death was almost entirely faultlessness from every pore in his body, although his markings were, by all means, a prominent diversion from the rest of him. They swirled and curved around his natural bone structure, branching off into multiple areas of his skin. They looked almost hand painted with slow, accurate strokes and were intricate--almost supernatural markings that made them unattainable at a tattoo parlor.
Death held himself upright with such authority and confidence, although he had sometimes given off the impression that he wasn't. With his subtle, yet very intimidating amount of black scruff along his jaw, eyebrow and lip were piercings, and thick midnight hair that slicked upwards towards the ceiling in a fohawk, Death had this whole "Middle Finger to the World," style. With Death's deadly stare and clenched jaw, I had immediately crossed out trying to get Death to actually enjoy hugs again off my bucket list. I could never imagine Death wanting to embrace anything or give it affection unless it threw itself upon him, or he was suffocating it with his bare hands. What I could imagine Death doing was kicking bunnies and scaring off stray puppies, maybe even putting random people he passed on the street through meat grinders.
He had this stare that resembled the sun, beautiful, yet extremely heated and dangerous to look at for an extended amount of time.
So that's where they got the "Death Look" from..
How I still found him sexy, even after watching the surveillance tape, I had absolutely freaking clue. All I knew was that the moment I saw Death's piercings, I had felt like one of those stupid, uptight, Catholic girls in all the movies that randomly became attracted to a guy that looked like they spent their free time poking needles into voodoo dolls, peeing on police cars, and head-banged to hardcore songs, instead of falling in love with the huggable, respectable, celibate, Pastor's son.
I think it was safe to say that I had a lot less issues with my hormones when Death when he didn't have a face, and a better chance of kicking his ass.
"Feel free to explore more me thoroughly," Death announced. I had jumped a bit at his smooth, deliciously deep voice. My gaze fell on his mouth and my insides turned to Jell-o. It was maybe the second or third time I had ever seen his mouth as he spoke, on Earth, at least. His lips were slightly pink and full.
I hated how wonderful they really were.
Damn that piercing...makes him look more sexy.
I had forgotten Death could read my thoughts. There was a sliver of hope that came with being a Reaper that my thoughts would finally be private. But when our eyes met, my heart leaped out of my chest and into the palm of his hand. One of those catlike evergreen eyes had winked at me. I felt as if a match had been thrown at a puddle of gasoline at my feet, my skin had grown so hot at that small gesture. He could still read my thoughts.
I was no longer was capable of ripping Death apart limb to limb because I could no longer even remember my name. Oh, Lord, he is a sexy specimen, even in the modern age. How could I ever stay mad at something so delicious? Words. What are words, again? My thoughts resembled mush. Who needs words!
I mentally slapped myself. I had never felt such an intense feeling of attraction to man in my entire life and been so frustrated in the process.
In fact, as soon as I had finally been given the gift of Death's forbidden gorgeousness in the modern world, I wanted to return it, even if I didn't get a refund or a percent off my next purchase. I now knew exactly why his eyes had felt so weighted under his hood. It was because Death rarely blinked when he looked at me, nor did it waver.
"I thought you said you were ugly."
"I lied, I'm pretty." He tugged at his lip ring with his teeth. It was quite possibly the sexiest thing I had ever seen. The small made his high cheek bones more prominent, but it also made his skin look a little too tight against his bones. There was a thinness to his features that I had not seen in the Unknown...
Maybe all of those skeleton photos of the Grim Reaper that I Google were accurate-
A short barked out laugh cut off my thoughts. "I don't always look like this. Just when I've been deprived of food for much longer than I am allowed and forced to live through my past life in another dimension." If looks could kill, it was his after that statement. "I need to feed a few more times before I look all tan and plump again. It's a shame I can't stick a straw in your chest and slurp that wonderful soul dry, it would fix me right up." Death then flashed me a grin, revealing teeth that were much larger and sharper than human teeth. My cheeks heated in a blush.
Oh. My. God. He just showed his fangs to me and I found it beyond attractive. Oh my God, all he has to do is ask and I would leap into his muscular arms into the sunset. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! I have to stop this! Stop!!!
Amusement twinkled in the gorgeous creatures eyes."Has my little half-demon been up to no good?"
Half-demon. That had set something off in me, throwing my body away from whatever trance Death's appearance had put me in. I'm not your anything, you freak.
Death's arched a shaped eyebrow. "Ro-ar, someone is feisty," Death drawled out, scratching lazily at his stubble and exotic eyes traveling up the length of my body. "I use to be a half-demon, you know. Even though I was born a demon, I didn't fully mature as one until I became older. Transitioning was a bitch. It makes you feel like your body is slowly turning inside out. I feel a bad for you."
I didn't hide the bitterness in my voice as I looked at the floor. "It's hard to believe you feel bad for me. It's hard to believe anything you say, really, since all you do is lie...and lie...and lie..." I let out a long, ragged breath and tried to slow down my pulse. Fury boiled my blood. "I don't know who you are anymore. I thought I understood you, Death, I really thought I did. I saw a completely different person in you when you were David Star, now all I see is a monster trying to break free from his chains that he belongs in."
Death's expression was stone and his voice was low. "I never said I was the good guy, Faith."
"You never said you were bad guy, either."
"There are some things I could not tell you or show you, that I still can't today. If you cannot except that, then where we go from here is not going to be a fun road. I am not leaving you anytime soon."
"Then I am leaving you," I said, tears threatening my vision. "I don't want to deal with your lies anymore. You're disgusting. And you know what?" I clenched my hands into fists, trying to keep in the amount of emotion that was building up inside me. "If you try and stop me, I will expose you for what you are."
Death stared at me for a solid ten seconds before flashing a thousand watt smile, fangs and all, threw his head back, and laughed. He laughed. Then, his expression grew terrifyingly serious. "You amuse me, girl. You know, most mortals would have tied me down to a bed already or would be screaming and begging for mercy. Eyes have bled over my beauty. That's not me being conceded, that's a proven fact. That's what my identity does to humans. Humans." Death ran a hand slowly through his thick, black hair, letting that sink in. I hated the amount of jealousy I had for that hand. "I admire your politeness," he added, taking a leisure step towards me, "but if you're planning on leaving me, I insist that you unleash any attraction you have towards me that you are bottling up before it consumes you. If you keep gawking at me and telling yourself over and over again that I am not the largest piece of eye candy in the candy store, you could very well be stripped of any sliver of morality you have left, and offer yourself to me on a platter."
Naked, he didn't have to add.
I remained silent. And as much as I fought against it, my gaze was chained to his.
"I just want to know..." Death walked closer, forcing me to move behind one of the couches to keep my distance. He casually displayed a blade onto into the open, putting the tip lightly between his lips as he followed me around the couch. It was similar to Apollo's balde that I had taken off of his body and no longer had. In the hands of Death, I was more than thankful my legs were still responding to my brain. Distance was more than welcomed when Death had a sharp object in his hands. "Are you attracted to me or imagining me killing you? It's almost always one or the other. In this form, I greatly attract both genders. But you"--those eyes dangerously looked at me from under his thick lashes and he pointed the blade at me-- "again, you never cease to amaze me, Faith Williams. Please, do tell."
"Whatever tickles you pink," I spat.
Death stopped circling me around the couch, paused, and held out the hilt of the blade to me. "Would you like to hold it?" He gave me a heated look. "I know how you like your sharp things these days. Especially while you bathe."
Something twitched in my eye. I knew exactly what paired directly with my attraction for him. Hatred. I tried not to let my lips peel back from my teeth in an animalistic snarl. "I won't be touching anymore razors or anything sharp, for the matter, nor will I kill myself, if that's what you're implying. But I'd be more than happy to use some on you."
Those green eyes narrowed at me for the longest moment, before Death twirled the blade in his hand a few dozen times and said with a private, evil grin, "It's a date."
My eyes traveled over his hair straight down to his combat boots. I shivered when I realize Death had done the same exact thing to me. This attraction will be the death of me....literally. The thought unleashed before I could hold it back. Just like that, I was done for. Death smirked widely, clearly retrieving the answer he wanted.
"I'll admit, you're a little handsome," I said, growling a little. "That doesn't mean I will ever, ever touch you again. If I could, believe me, I would claw those eyes of yours right out of your head."
Death's catlike eyes flickered with thick heat. "You are more than welcome to touch me. Anytime, anywhere, any place."
"Drop dead, freaky eyes."
Death threw a hand to his chest as if he was wounded, then arched a shaped, pierced eyebrow. I noticed that the dagger he had been holding was gone. "Cupcake! If I recall correctly, and I always recall correctly, a generous amount of interest in my freaky eyes when you were a little shrimp. You drew pictures of them with pink hearts around them. I might still have one of those..."
"You're a pedophile," I snarled, flashing a flat-toothed hiss.
He barred teeth right back at me. They were a lot sharper than mine. It was hard to tell it if it was a grin or a reminder that he could bite me in half. "Only for you, cupcake. Only for you." What I knew for sure that if Death really wanted to, he could have reached right over the couch that separated us and snapped my neck . "If you are trying to make me angry, you fail miserably. Your nastiness will always be a turn on, Faith Williams."
"You're always turned on, Death No-last-name."
"I have a last name. It's Cruscellio."
I had hopelessly blushed at the way death had heavily rolled his tongue over his own name, becoming keenly aware of the fact that he was multilingual, then forced myself to stop falling for the game he was clearly counting me in. Death was trying to mess with me. I grit my teeth. Death was slowly peeling back my exterior and revealing a part of me I didn't want unleashed. A violent side. Maybe it was my instinctual defense, but I didn't want that...creature five feet within radius. I could bet on my life that Death was going to try and make me flip that switch and lose control, trying to get me closer to him without closing the space between us himself.
"Why don't you cut the crap," I said. "I want to roast you alive, you want to roast me alive..." I stepped into the middle of the room, exposing myself to the open. "Come on, fight me. Let's see who laughs in the end."
Death took a few long gliding towards me and I moved around the couch again. We were facing each other from two of the short ends, when Death kneeled forward on the couch cushions, braces his hands on the back of the couch, and barred his teeth at me."Your move, cupcake."
"Fine." I closed the distance between us and slammed my fist into his face. I felt the impact, felt little pain, yet felt the aftermath when I unclenched my hand and bones in my fingers that had broken slid back into place.
Death appeared unfazed by the blow, but his eyes lit to a neon green. My heart thudded loudly when his expression had went utterly slack, those emerald eyes lost all emotion. Just like that, he flips the switch, I thought. Death could shut down his emotions.
Before I could make a move for it, Death gripped my hips, lifted me up to his side of the couch, and tossed me like a rag doll across the room. I hit the heavy blinds covering the glass windows and hit the surface of the windows with a sickening smack, then landed painfully on my back. I was thankful the windows were too thick to break, but with the undeniable pain radiated through my entire left arm, I knew my shoulder had popped out and my wrist had broken like a toothpick. I moaned, rolled over onto my stomach, squeezed my eyes shut, and I clamped down on my bottom lip with my teeth. I tasted blood.
A pair of large combat boots came into my blurry vision. I could see the ends of dark leather pants, too. "Get up."
"No."
"Get up. Now."
Blood trickled out of my mouth as I said slowly, "Make me."
I was hauled off the ground and with a single hand. I let out a scream that was so piercingly loud my ears rung afterwards when Death popped my shoulder back in place and flicked back my broken wrist. Bones slid into their original position then ached. My shoulder throbbed. For a moment, I almost fell towards the monster in front of me the pain was so immense. Instead, I stumbled back, regaining my balance within seconds. Death no longer wore his cloak. Instead he wore a black t-shirt that stretched along his chest and biceps and displayed a new area of prominent black markings on his arm, paired with leather pants that formed perfectly his muscular legs.
We began to circled each other from a distance with an itch for a fight.
Up close, I could see the thin scars that were practically invisible on the gorgeous monster's face. One underneath the piercing on his eyebrow and one right where the piercing was on lip. Another thin one slid down his cheek. I gave him once over and wondered if he had any other scars I could not see on his body besides the two wing-shaped ones on his back.
Suddenly, Death growled real low in his throat and stopped circling me. He leaned forward a little and barred his razor sharp teeth at me. Warning signals went off in my head. He couldn't mask the thick amount of hunger in his eyes.
"You threw a girl."
"You are no girl," he said, then, "and it is wise not to test my control again. Next time I will kick you while you are down."
I steadied myself on the wall behind me. "Don't test mine, either."
He smirked. "I'll do whatever I want to you. You are mine."
Everything changed. My vision went black for a moment. I moved in a flash and my hand slashed out, gripping something firm. My vision came back and I became fully aware that I had crossed the distance between us because Death's beautiful face was zoomed in a lot closer than I could handle. I pulled my claws from his thick bicep, trembling, then watched as his fresh blood dripped down my hand. My eyes widened to their fullest and my stomach clenched with nausea.
What...?
"To put it straight forward"--Death's mouth parted in an uneven pant and he talked around a mouthful of large fangs--"you were trying to show your dominance and I let you out of courtesy. Perhaps when your transition is complete you will naturally know your place." Death paused for effect and purred out additionally, "Below me."
"I already know my place." I imagined myself taking a chunk of flesh out of his arm the harder I squeezed. "And it's not anywhere near you, you prick."
Death tuned me out, his eyes finally dimming to a normal shade of green. "The longer you postpone your transition, the more your need for dominance will escalate to a thirst that's a lot more physically demanding." As if reading my immediate thoughts, he then breathed out onto my face, allowing an intoxicating aroma of his scent flow into my nostrils. "And not just sex. You will lash out towards anything that moves. If that piece of my soul inside of you is as powerful as I think it is, you could destroy an entire city within a day. Including your family. Would you like that to happen, Faith Williams?"
I thought of my mother's angelic face and powdery blue eyes, then my dad's crinkly eyes and some of his favorite sweaters that had always smelled like coffee when I hugged him. I couldn't remember the last time I had actually sat down and talked to my family, knowing I had no troubles in the world, not knowing if Death wasn't going to hurt them. The distance I had put between myself and my family would tear me apart in more ways than one.
I gazed down at my hand and saw menacing, bloody claws. It was a painful reminder. Death reached for a box of tissues on his desk and gave them to me, refusing to make eye contact. Our fingers brushed as I took the box from him.
"Wipe off yourself before I do something I regret," he said raucously, vigorously rubbing his closed eyes. "Seeing your hands with my blood on them is equivalent to seeing you sprawled on my bed completely naked."
My cheeks heated. I couldn't shake the images his words had instantly given me. I wiped my hands off on the tissue and tried to tighten the muscles in my legs to stop them from shaking.
"Tell me how I complete my transition," I said a bit bitterly.
Death's mouth set in a flat line as I threw the bloody tissue on his desk. "You're going to have to purge those souls I fed you."
"Elaborate."
Death carefully watched my reaction and spoke slowly. "I'm going to have to feed from you so that you can purge the souls from your body. I will distribute the souls accordingly from there."
I fought to stop my jaw from going slack. "You're going to feed from me so that I purge the souls."
"Yes."
"You stick your filthy, soul-drenched tongue down my throat, and feed from me, like you do with probably every other girl that you kill."
"Normally, I just rip the soul from someone's body and toss them to the side. Occasionally, they get what you clearly assume is a 'kiss' and die. If I'm bored, I'll play with them a little. Either way, they die," he said and crossed his arms over his wide chest as if he was making a gesture of kindness.
I crossed my arms over my chest, mimicking him. "Well, that's not ok with me, Death. I want an alternative way. I'm not the only Reaper, I want to do what they do to get rid of the soul."
Death glared at me. "You will do what I tell you to do, Faith."
I pronounced every syllable of the word. "Alternative."
He frowned. A frown on Death's stone-like face immediately put off warning signals in my head. I had to lay off a little. "Alternative? If you are going to be ungrateful, then your 'alternative' can be you sucking my--
"When do I have to do this," I interjected. My cheeks had to be redder than a ripe tomato.
"You will know."
"And if I refuse?"
Death's expression hardened. "You will not refuse. But if you are stupid enough, I'll force you."
"You can't force me to eat someone."
"I could force a Rhino into thinking it's a dolphin," he snarled. I realized I had entirely my train of thought when I backpedaled into the wall. The green-eyed monster came closer.
I was cornered.
I stood my ground.
He leaned down and whispered roughly into my ear, "You were transitioning. You were helplessly unable to control your actions. That is what you better hope runs through my mind when you are finished transitioning and I show you what no mercy really feels like. When I punish you for mocking my supremacy, disobeying me, and then striking me." Death loomed over me, leaning a hand against the wall next to my head, his marked face close to mine. Warm, minty breath fanned my lips. "You're not that helpless anymore, are you, little Reaper? That punch was all you. You've been waiting for a punch like that for a while. I hope it was worth it. I wouldn't press your luck and piss me off any further."
"It was worth it," I snapped. "The only thing I regret is not continuing."
A bead of sweat dripped down my back when he snarled in my ear like an animal. I held my blank expression like a pro. "I cannot wait until you fully begin to loathe yourself," Death said sliding a scolding finger down my cheek. "Reapers are born human, then transform to magnificent, cruel beings that thrive on souls and agony. They indulge in their first feeding and grow talons and fangs. After their second feeding their eye sight, strength and hearing become impeccable. By the third feeding, they dispose of any humanity they have left within a week or so. You will be different. You'll be like me and fight for your humanity. You will try, and try, and try, and try some more, then life will kick you swiftly in the ass. You can't fight what you will become."
My voice was quiet and strained. I couldn't stop the violent shake throughout my body. The fact that I wanted to block out the rest of the world. "I w-won't be like that."
"Oh, but you will. Think about all of the scents you are now aware of. " His lips slightly brushed against mine as he spoke and his hand wondered down to my lower back. My body was thrown into a heat wave. I couldn't think of anything but Death. "You smell things that you didn't when you were human." I instinctively inhaled eyes wanted to roll back in pleasure as his cologne invaded my nostrils. "Certain scents will drive you crazy, to the point that you become addicted to it. To the point that you want to taste it. Everything you smell be heightened as well as other things." Death's nose was practically against mine and his voice rolled around on my tongue it was so delicious.
He's manipulating me. I will be his slave if he does this any further.
He then moved forward, rubbing his stubble gently against my cheek. "Look at me," Death purred hoarsely into my ear.
The heat of his body made my back go slick with sweat. I turned my head to the side and inhaled air that was thick with his presence. Death slammed his hand against the wall next to my head. I flinched, and looked to my left, realizing he had stuck a dagger into the wall and through my shirt, inches from my face. I was nailed to the wall "Look at me!"
"No," I choked out.
Death's mouth went to my neck. I felt his wet tongue slowly lap at my neck held down a low moan. Every fiber of my being wanted to arch towards his lean, muscular frame. He kept a distance between our bodies that tore at me from the inside out. Abruptly, he pressed his hips against mine and groaned in a very provocative manner. Every inch of my skin lit with flames and sparked with the electricity that flowed through his clothing to mine.
I couldn't show what effect he had on me. I wouldn't let him have his glory. It was torturous in itself, and I knew exactly why Death was doing it. To get back at me.
"Listen, you eight-foot tall, spiky-haired body builder," I began. It hurt to swallow my throat was so dry. "There's nothing I could have done to help you in the Unknown. I was drunk on the power it gave me and you know I was. I thought you would understand--"
"Understand what it's like to be drunk?" Death pulled back, yanked the dagger out of the wall, and braced both hands at the sides of my head. Death's lips looked raw and a dark pink. I became aware of the blissful ache at that he had left on my neck. "Of course I know what it's like to be drunk," he continued in a rough voice, "you don't know how it feels like to be drunk. To be really drunk." His wicked green eyes narrowed like a snakes. "You're too young and naive to understand the seriousness of the word. You act on youth, a drunk man acts on liquor and impulse. You act on angst and your own feeble definition of depression, a drunk man acts on nonsense and depression. To want to escape your life and never go back to it is lethal when you're really drunk. Thinking that one more sip will make it all better, one more blackout will change your world entirely. Just one more sip." Death's eyes glazed over as he continued, voice increasing louder and his mouth hovering over mine. "So you take another sip. You see, some people get angry when they drink. Angry that the thrill is almost over. Angry at themselves. Angry at the liquor. They're like a ticking time bomb, and people like you, the people that just don't get it....wait for the drunk man to just"--Death's nose abruptly touched mine and he raised his gloved hand to hit me-- "lose control and take all of that pent up rage out on someone else! Feed on someone else's life! Over, and over again! And that someone who witnesses their sickness every damn day, and gets beaten, hopelessly wishing the drunk man would get better already?! They are prone to end up mimicking that drunk man!" Death smacked the wall by my hand with each booming word. "Angry! Abusive! Pathetic! Lonely!"
Just like me, he didn't add.
"So no, Faith," Death said, shoving himself away from me. His eyes darkened straight to a black, as if a curtain fell right over them, to the point that I could no longer see the whites in them eyes."I don't really understand your kind of drunk. I don't understand it at all because it doesn't exist! You are in control of your power! The Unknown just influences you!"
I imagined the little boy with the curly blonde hair that was once Death. He was too young to know right from wrong, too precious. I imagined Malphas as well. How he must have heartlessly wailed on that little boy, molding him into an child far beyond his years. A child that had seen the harshest parts of life and wasn't allowed to express himself. What else would little Alexandru have to depend on but his mother? And when that was taken away?
All he could depend on was himself.
There was only one thing I had to say to him, and if Death didn't accept it, then there was nothing else I could do. I would say the words that he would never say to me once again. "I'm sorry if I put you through any pain. I'm sorry if I reminded you of what you use to be. I'm sorry." I inhaled a long, shaky breath and added, "But I'm also sorry that I ever met you."
Death looked directly into my eyes, then, his abnormally expanded pupils shrunk back to their normal size. I became absorbed in their emerald depths. It was as if he could see right through me, maybe even right into me. I felt like Death was scanning my eyes, reading the bar-code, to see if they were real and telling the truth. I wasn't sure if he had excepted my unnecessary apology, but he was definitely taking it into some sort of consideration.
The towering beast turned on his heel, leaving me chilled, and walked towards his desk, leaned at the front of it, faced me, then crossed his thick biceps over his chest once more.
"How do you feel right now." His eyes refused to meet my gaze. "Physically, how do you feel. It's important."
I stared at the ground. It was the question I had been avoiding for such a long time. How did I feel? How did I feel? Who was Death, the cause of all of my stress and personal hatred towards myself, thinking by asking me that?
My gums ache, my nails are throbbing. I have a headache as usual... my everything hurts..
"How am I?" I asked, laughing a little more manically than intended. I couldn't breathe even though the beautiful beast was all the way on the other side of the room. "I'm barely holding it together." It took a while for me to unclench my jaw and hands. "How the hell are you?"
Death's expression became serious. "I feel like death." He held his hand out and the remote on his desk that I had used on the television and within a blink of an eye it magically appeared in his hand. I was so use to things out of the norm happening, that I hadn't even thought about the small gesture twice. Death's iridescent eyes stared at the damaged television for a while, the code box, glanced at me, and then he pushed up from the desk. "I'm not going to ask why," Death said, pulling at the piercing on his lip with his teeth. " I'm going to act like it is even there. In fact, I never saw anything." Death's shoulders shrugged a little as if he was convincing himself of what he had just said.
"I--"
Those haunting eyes hit mine like two green darts. "Feel free to speak a little louder and explain to me what happened, princess. I'm stuck with your for a while. I have time."
I tried to appear undaunted by Death's intimidating height advantage. "I was half-naked and I had just watched you mutilate a woman in HD. You locked me in a room--"
"You had a fever and your clothes were bloody, so I took them off," Death interjected. "Would you have rather died from a preventable fever?"
"You could have put a shirt on me!"
"You had an abnormally high fever of 110 degrees Fahrenheit and you were conducting conversations with yourself about The Pirates of the Caribbean, accents and all."
"You probably felt me up."
He held up two fingers. "Scouts honor."
"Liar."
"The last thing I was worried about was an exposed breast or thong."
I pulled at the white button down shirt underneath my jacket. It's bulkiness was oddly enough, confining. "You could have put a shirt on me after my fever broke!"
Death coughed into his leather glove and muffled something like, "Prude."
"You sicken me," I spat. "Everything you do is sick."
"You've said this already. And I repeat: I am a sick man." He sighed then chuckled real deep in his throat, pulling at the piercing at lip. "I think I need a spanking. It's been a while."
It's been a while? I shook myself from my thoughts. "I think you need a brick upside the head."
Death retrieved a pen from his cloak--which made absolutely no sense because it had no pockets, and wrote into the air as he spoke. "Note to self: female Reapers PMS like a volcano. Buy lots of chocolate and bullet-proof televisions. Convince Faith to spank me."
"Is that a Papermate?"
"No, it's a Viscoti Fountain Pen," he said haughtily, showcasing it. Just like that, the conversation took a journey towards a whole different direction. "This thing writes as smooth as Lamborghini on a newly paved road."
"It looks cheap."
His eyes fell into slits again and I shivered.
Getting really tired of that look, I pictured myself stabbing him in the stupid eyes with it repeatedly. "Can I try it?" I asked.
Death held it out to me. But when I reached for it, he pulled it back, pretended to stab himself in the eye with it, stopped at the last minute, and slipped it back into his cloak. "Can I try it." He mocked in a high pitched voice. "My pen is not a prostitute, Faith Williams. Multiple people cannot use it. Prostitution is my job."
"Then congratulations, you have a job that is more productive than what you do in your spare time."
"I believe equalizing the Balance, the force which creates an equilibrium between good and evil, is much more significant than getting singles and giving lap dances each night to complete strangers. Although, I would get paid much, much better than what I am now. Right now I get paid with black-haired brats that are named after beliefs."
"You know, if you're going to take offense to my nastiness, maybe you should consider being nicer to me as well."
"I'm Death. I comply to no one. "
"Except Him, except God." I stared at him for the longest time, seeing if those exotic green eyes never wavered. I was more than curious to find out what had happened to him when he was taken through the mirror.
Death's jaw flexed. "I would prefer not to speak of it."
I fell into those emerald eyes, trying to peel the layer upon layer of barriers Death had thrown over them. We stared at each other for a while before I said quietly, "You don't look like you were punished."
"That's because you weren't there when I came back from the Unknown. We were at two different parts of the city." Death rubbed at his stubble, then ran a hand through his thick spiky hair. "I was disoriented and I passed out from weakness. Somehow, a few Shadow Men found me and carried back to Devin & Son. I didn't know what year it was. All I recognized was Devin. He came after I was"--Death's nostrils flared, his chest heaved a little-- "chained and muzzled."
My mouth parted. "Muzzled?"
"Like a dog," he snapped. Death shook his head out and pressed his fingers to his sinuses. It was clear he was struggling to stay in control. "I killed five Shadow Men. Devin had to clip my wing with my own scythe so that I went into a shock. Angel wings, although virtually made of steel, can be very sensitive. Getting clipped from my scythe was equivalent to getting struck by five-hundred thousand volts of electricity. I would have gone wild, tearing up the city and killing anything with a heartbeat, had Devin not of wounded me there. I forced myself to recover as soon as possible. An hour, tops. Then I went to find you."
"How did you escape from your meeting with God? Did he just let you go?"
Death then grew entirely silent for a moment and his eyes went dark. "He... let me go." To my utter disbelief, I could see a drastic change in Death from just that simply question. His professional eyes glazed over and there was no trace of emotion left in them.
He was lying. Somehow, I knew he was lying. Regardless of my hatred towards the beast, I decided it was best to change the subject. That secret was for another day.
"I thought you should know that while you were gone, I watched a few of the surveillance footage you saved."
From his faintly alarmed expression, Death had absolutely no idea I had watched some of the surveillance footage. His jaw tightened and he muffled a humorless laugh. "You know, I was wondering if you would do that. I left the remote out for you. Too bad I'm really just not in the mood to discuss anything you saw. There are many things on my plate at the moment."
"When are you in the mood?" I questioned, hands on my hips. "After your photo shoots when you're David Star? After a couple thousand souls?"
Death gave me the dirtiest look. "You're a bitch."
"You're a bastard in a cloak."
Death's eyes went wide. 'Cloak,' Death mouthed and spun around, searching the room."Where the hell is your cloak?"
"I let her go."
Death's eyes became slits, then he pulled roughly at the back of his hair.
Sensing his struggle to stay calm, I stuck my tongue out.
Death watched my tongue dart out with heated eyes, his skin growing pale. His nostrils flared, making him appear more like a bull ready to charge than a towering Fallen Angel. Death disappeared, then reappeared right in front of me, grabbing the front of the button down shirt I had borrowed from his closet and lifted me up to my toes.
"Stick your tongue again and watch what happens," he snarled in my face, churning my insides like I was riding a roller coaster "You let go a spirit that I had to hunt down through five cities to get..." Within seconds his laugh morphed into a piercing howl. He dropped me to the ground. A chill slipped down my back. Death lifted me further off the ground. I latched onto his bicep and returned the gesture, digging into flesh. His expression showed no change. "Do you have any idea how difficult it will be to find her if she does not return on her own!?"
"You left me alone! I freaked out!"
"You freaked out? Do you know when I fully transitioned to a demon, princess?" His pupils engulfed his entire eyes as he screamed, "When my father was beating me with a boulder!" He barred his teeth and snarled at me. "All I can think about is ripping your throat out for saying such a ridiculous excuse."
"I'd prefer to wear a cardigan over an evil-spirited cloak," I said.
The amount of rage that was visible on Death's face was unbelievable. "Besides being mandatory, she would have helped you transition!" he roared, exposing his fangs, "No other person would get such a gift from me!"
"I don't want your gifts!" I screamed.
Death stepped real close to me, looking down at me from over his nose. His jaw flexed and his voice lowered. "Then what do you want, then?"
I stared at his nose, avoiding those startling emerald eyes. "An apology for everything you have put me through."
Death snorted. "Not happening"--Death lunged towards to me and hissed, fangs and all--"ever."
I flushed, fighting the urge to reel backwards. "I figured as much."
"Don't speak to me as if you know me."
"I know enough."
His voice was still a hiss and his eyes were daring. "Prove it."
"You become so deep in thought in conversations that you sway forward. You forget what's going on around you. I'm guessing because you're always in more than one place at once, killing innocent people endlessly, you wouldn't have the time of day to feel my hand on your chest."
Death's eyes lowered to his chest, where my hand lay on his heart. I thought I saw a small flinch of panic in those wild peepers. "Get your hands off of me."
"You said I would go for the heart. I could do it now." I pointed my fingernails towards his chest, hoping I knew how to retract them if need be. The electrical currents that normally shocked my skin at Death's touch grew stronger, to the point that the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. This is where his marks begins
Death froze like a statue, gazing down at me. There was something about my hand on his chest that had made Death act strange. Maybe he had the same reaction to my touch as I did his. The methodic rhythm to his heart beat that comforted me. My hands then moved to his hair. It was soft, like down feathers. I wanted to keep my hands in his hair forever. I was nearing the danger zone. The part of his face that truly didn't belong. The markings and the burn from the cross I had hit him with a while before on his forehead.
Heal him...
"Heal me?" I had barely brushed the stubble of his jaw when Death flinched away again, a low growl resounding in his throat. Death's lips peeled back from his teeth in a snarl when I reached out again. "Fallen cannot be healed by others. We are on our own. I don't know what the hell you just tried to do, but don't do it again. Ever."
The air grew cold.
I released my hand from his cloak, disgusted with myself. Death would never let me get close to him. I looked down at my hands and then at the towering midnight-haired man. Warmth radiated on my cheeks and my mouth went dry. There was a heavy amount of lust that still lingered in my limbs. Maybe even in his.
I couldn't stand my feelings for him any longer
"When will these feelings go away." I corrected myself, voice shattering into little pieces I was so shaky. "When will I stop having human emotions. I want it to happen now."
Death straightened a little and gave me an odd look. "Someone is in a hurry, eager-beaver." His voice dropped down to a barely audible level. "At some point, you will come to realize what you are and stop living in the illusion that you are still entirely human, you will feed again, and then you will be able to dispose of them."
I was facing my reality. I just couldn't take the thought of myself acting like that monster in the Unknown, who had cut his father's head straight from his neck... The way Death played with his food and enjoyed every minute of it was enough to make me feel ill. "You'll feed me if I refuse to," I said as if clarifying it, narrowing my eyes the same way he was.
Death barred perfectly straight teeth that were no longer fangs. "What if I don't?" There was a coldness to those emerald eyes that made me think otherwise.
"Well, you wouldn't torture me. That's too risky to keep your pure little cupcake alive."
His eyes narrowed into green slits. "Is it? I've been around for a long time. I know how to keep my little cupcake pure and alive...even if you are barely alive."
My pulse leaped and my attention was one-hundred and fifty percent on Death. Surely he was joking. "You wouldn't torture me," I repeated, less sure than before.
Death played with his lip piercing. "Are you asking if I would or hoping that I wouldn't?
Now he was the one asking questions.
"I'm not sure," I said softly.
Death held his hand out. In a blink of an eye the remote which I had used on his television appeared in his hand. He displayed it in front of my vision, then motioned to the glass windows around us. "Just one click and the windows will open. I would be more than happy to throw you from Devin & Son right this second, catch you at the last second, then throw you again." His words were slow, controlled, as if he was talking to a child. Death was teasing like the bully he was, towards someone who was on the brink of breaking down. "Or I could just break each and every one of your precious little fingers."
I clenched my hands into fists. "Then you'll break every one of my fingers," I shrieked, "because I'm not feeding from another living being! I'll die before I kill anyone!"
"You are a Reaper." Death's eyes trained on me as he came around to my side, forcing me away from the wall and in the open. You are a Reaper. Those four words had made my vision blur with rage. Death stalked around me. "You no longer weep for any mortals destruction, unless you have to. You won't have to. Get over it. Get over them. This the only way you will survive."
"Maybe I don't want to survive."
With the heated look he gave me, I realized exactly where the "death stare" originated from. "Careful, princess, you're pathetic-ness is showing."
You made me like this. This is your fault. It was the words I couldn't form out loud.
Shame, now you have to live with it for the rest of your life, Death's eyes silently said right back.
Something broke inside me.I lashed out towards his face with my hand.. Death barely moved. My nails grazed his cheek, leaving parallel cuts on a portion of his jaw.
He froze. Everything froze.
"I'm happy that you did that." Death's jaw clenched, unclenched, clenched, then his expression wiped entirely clean once more. "You will learn to never to do such things again." He walked behind me and played with a strand of my hair, then leaned his head on my shoulder. When his arm snaked around my torso I found myself inhaling, sensing the fact that he wanted to squeeze a little harder than a hug. His smile was visible in my peripheral vision. "You see, when you were human, I treated you as a human. Now, I won't." His fell smile fell straight from his mouth and his voice dropped to a murmur. "It would be wise to follow the leader, little Reaper."
Death spun me around, then brushed passed me, his cloak gracefully flowing through the air like a cape.
I stumbled to find my balance. "You're not my leader. You never will be my leader."
Death whirled around at my rejection, nostrils flaring. Having Death's full, undivided attention did terrible things to my stomach.
"I want Leo to watch me." I don't want to go anywhere with you, is what I really wanted to say. I kept my gaze trained on Death's eyes to see if any jealousy pooled within them. From what I had learned in the short amount of time of seeing those peepers, they told you all you needed to know about the man. Maybe too much.
"Leo..." Death paused, tilted his head to the side and puckered out his lip in thought. If Death wasn't trying to look like a sad puppy, he was doing a terrible job. His eyes went dark. "If you prefer that Leo watches over you, I suppose that is alright with me. I will be horrible company, anyways."
The beast was still far too close to me to inhale oxygen, so I sighed, harmfully releasing the rest of my lungs contents. "Tell me where you're going, then reword your sentence so it sounds nicer," I said a bit sharply. Perhaps I was falling for the puppy face. Perhaps I was training the puppy.
"Don't worry about where we are going." His mouth quirked up a little in secrecy. "I would like you to come with me. That being said, there is quite amount of violence where we are going...danger." The sentence slipped from his lips in an erotic way. Then again, every sentence he said sounded erotic. "It is your choice, princess."
I fought the urge to run to the window of the office and look out into the streets. The moment Death had mentioned danger, I thrived to know what kind of violence there really was. Some part of me wanted a piece of that danger. I tried to act a little less excited than I knew I was. "What would happen if I went with you?"
Those green eyes revealed some sort of victory within them. "You want to go with me now?"
"What would happen if I went with you," I repeated more sternly.
\ "You would have to promise me something."
"What?"
"Promise that you will not interfere with anything or anyone you see outside, because they are probably possessed by a demon, will sense you are transitioning, and rape you on the spot."
I gave him a weird look. That was a little specific. "Um..."
"Also don't look in any mirrors for a while because the last time you did, I was dragged into it. Plus, you resemble the walking dead more than I do. I'm really not trying to be mean in this case, just saving you from the shock and the self hatred all females get over the smallest things."
I waited for that straight expression of his to waver. It didn't.
He thinks I am ugly?
Death had done a lot of things to me that had practically destroyed my life, starting with the day that he saved it. I felt like sucker punched me and finished me off.
Death took a step closer to me, then another. I don't know what inside me allowed him to tilt my chin up to meet his gaze. I felt Death's warm lips and cool piercing brush against my forehead, then his minty breath fanning my face as he laughed real deep in his throat. "That is not what I meant at all," Death whispered, his slanted eyes boring into mine. "If I thought you were even slightly ugly, believe me, I would have absolutely no interest in your panty drawer." He took a step back. "Your panty drawer is lacking in stock, BTW." He twirled a glove finger in the air. "That means 'By The Way'."
Death winked, then walked straight out of the room without a second glance back.
Just like that.
I stared at the open office door and let out a long breath. Death, aka the Angel of Death, was probably expecting me, Faith Williams, the new sidekick Reaper, to follow him down the hallways of hell. Make a dash for it once you get outside, a voice chimed in my head.
But what was the point?
I was pretty sure I had already lost everything but my ultimate fate.
* * *
I walked quietly down the sidewalk with Death through the dark, brisk air of Chicago, which licked at my skin with every sway of arms. Death's long legs took strides that were twice as far as mine, but I was managing to keep up.
I wore the same outfit I had on at Devin & Son's, baggy sweatpants, a button down shirt, and a leather jacket. All of which were worn by Death and all of which were drenched in his intoxicating scent. Leather is a terrible insulator, I thought as the wind kicked up. I dug my face into the collar of the leather jacket.
My vision and hearing were starting to freak me out. I could hear verbal fights in the middle of the streets from miles away and on the sidewalks. I began to count how many police cars I heard with their sirens on. One of them sounded close. There were screams and sensual whispers I heard from the buildings above. I lost track of all of the sounds I was picking up. In fact, the only thing not making a sound, was Death. Not even his boots hitting the pavement made a noise. Had he not of spoken to me, I would have forgotten he was there.
I heard a bullet go off in the distance and practically ran into Death.
For the next five minutes I was keenly aware of every pedestrian we walked by, and the longest, blankest looks that they gave me. A man walking by, about my height, turned their head completely to the side as they walked by as if to stare at me a bit longer. Their eyes were consumed in black. As we were walking by, his hand snatched out and grabbed my upper arm.
"You are very beautiful," the man said nonchalantly, as if grabbing a strangers arm and complimenting them in the middle of the sidewalk was normal.
Death let out a hiss from behind me. "Fuck off, demon."
The demon grinned ear to ear. "I apologize, Death. I thought you would share." The demon's black eyes landed on mine as he added, "His father would have."
Death muttered an appallingly dirty word to the demon, put a large hand on my back, and ushered me forward. "What a beautiful night, if you ignore the excessive amount of ugly, horny demons walking around. One small teeter in the balance and suddenly people think they can have sex with anything on the streets. They have less standards than an unfixed dog."
Death's voice was casual, yet boomingly loud, snapping me out of my brooding thoughts about the demon. Clearly he was unaffected by the demon's chilling gaze and words.
"I should have killed him," Death muttered under his breath. "I should have ripped his head off. I wanted to rip his head off."
"Was that a possessed human? How did the demon know your name?" I still couldn't process the fact that I was part demon. I looked casually over my shoulder. The demon was gone.
"Yes, that was a possession." Death flicked his cigarette to the side. "Malphas is nearly one of the first demon's in existence." He put heavy emphasis on his father's name. The second that Malphas' name was mentioned I pictured a raven with beady black eyes. I began to wonder where Malphas was that very second.
"Being his son and the famous angelic warrior who became a cursed Fallen, puts a big stamped 'Here I Am' on my forehead for all to see," Death continued. "That being said, no demon in their right mind would challenge me like that one just did." His jaw clenched. "Unless..."
The answer came to me almost immediately, along with a piercing twinge of pain in my jaw. "You think the demon works for Malphas? A spy?"
Death motioned for me to talk lower. "Possibly. Perhaps they were aware of our disappearance." His black markings became more prominent under a street light we happened to pass by. "When the balance is unevenly tilted towards the negative side, demon's can access humans a lot more easily without worrying of the consequences of being found out by an angel from Heaven...." He stopped walking and analyzed ever inch of my skin with his eyes.
"What?"
"You're touching your jaw. You are in pain."
I removed my hand from my jaw. It was painfully pulsating. "I'm fine, just keep talking"--I gave him an uneasy look--"Please."
Death gave me a lasting stare, before beginning to walk at his rapid pace again. "They are trained to snipe out those who don't follow the law," he continued. "Demon's are only allowed a certain amount of possessions per year."
"That's really disturbing--"
"That's life," Death interjected coolly. "Demon's are a part of life. They're existence is futile, therefore, they must be given limitations for their own survival. Unfortunately, that human you just saw will not last very long with the demon inside of him. He will probably die within a week."
That poor man...
Death caught my attention with a flick of a lighter. He lit a cigarette between his full lips. When those glowing green eyes swooped towards me and caught my gaze, I stepped a little out of his zone and let him walk a few paces in front of me. I didn't like how he casually talked around about people dying left and right, nor did I really like the sultry look he gave me every few seconds when I was next to him.
He gives you looks like he wants to eat you alive.
"My, my, are you regretting coming with me already," he questioned over his shoulder, laughing. "Little Reaper can't handle Big Bad Death?"
My gaze traveled from his spiky hair all the way down his wide shoulders and long legs. Gawking at Death from behind made my mouth water and briefly forget about the throbbing pain which reluctantly continued in my gums. There was a numbness about his beauty that blissfully overpowered any pain.
"Not really," I swiftly lied. My breath come out in puffs. "I just feel like someone is watching us, now. That feeling is always unnerving."
Death blew a thick amount of smoke out of his mouth over his shoulder, hitting me straight in the face.
"Well, then, I guess we should just run screaming and wailing like little girls," he said with sick sarcasm, taking another drag of his cigarette. I wasn't sure if he was blowing the smoke in my face on purpose or not, but it was getting annoying. "On the count of three?"
"I just love your sarcasm," I replied dryly, then, "I don't understand why you smoke. It's disgusting and unattractive."
"The opposite of what you think I am?"
"No, you're disgusting and unattractive," I corrected snootily.
One moment I had been staring at the cloaked, punk-looking man with spiky black hair, the next I was glancing over at a more refined looking man with shaggy brown hair, a lack of markings, and a long black wool trench coat with a high collar. Suddenly I was walking with David Star and I felt a ridiculous amount of comfort. I couldn't help but feel jealous of his new jacket. It looked a whole lot warmer than mine. I also couldn't help but miss the gorgeous black-haired sex-god.
Boom-boom. Boom-boom.
"Why did you change?"
"I've grown tired of the reaction you have to me," Death replied. "It is no longer pleasurable." He made his voice sound like a little boys. It was scarily accurate. "You're mean to me."
I frowned. "I thought you were conceded about your looks," I challenged, coming out from behind him and walking in step with him. I felt more comfortable walking next to the beast. "I'll judge you more if you use the face of the man I watched you kill in the Unknown. Besides, I think your marks are... interesting."
Death barred David Stars' teeth in an unfriendly smile. "Well, I think your breasts are interesting. Would you like me to stare at them the whole walk?"
I flushed as much as I could in the freezing weather. "If you're ever going to gain back my trust you have to be yourself."
He snorted. "Very well, then." I blinked and David Star was no longer walking next to me.
Boom-boom. Boom-boom.
Strange, how a question so straight forward could make me blush in rage. You're out of control. You're more attracted to him then when you were human.
I tried to focus on my answer when my teeth unbearably began to pulsate and my vision wavered. I watched, eyes wide, as another man walked by us on the sidewalk. He was different than the other man..he wasn't possessed. I became keenly aware of the thumping in my ears, eying the man's pulsing artery on his neck as he walked by.
I stopped walking, turned, and stared at the stranger's back as he walked away.
Boom-boom. Boom-boom.
My mouth watered. I could hear the man's heart beat.
My knees began to buckle. I felt Death's hand at my waist and growled, trying to pry it off. By the time he fully let go of me, I realized Death had yanked me straight into the nearest alley.
Great. A dark alley with Death. This should end nicely.
I couldn't see Death at all but I could feel those weighted eyes. Even seeing the outline of his body would have made me feel more comfortable. "Don't touch me! Don't touch me!" I immediately shouted to the empty air. I felt trapped, frantically maneuvering myself against the wall of the alley, hoping for a street light of some sorts.
Instead, I walked straight into Death's warm chest and froze. He held the back of my head with his gloved hand, forcing me to stop wriggling. "Shhh, cupcake," he hushed, "tell me what happened. You're safe."
Death deep voice had almost instantly soothed my pulse.
"That man..." I shivered violently. "I could hear his pulse, then my teeth started to hurt. It was unbearable."
"Did you want to kill him?"
My eyes widened. "N-n-no...no, I didn't," I immediately replied. The truth was, I had no idea. I shook my head back and forth in the darkness. "I was just listening... I was just listening to it."
"Open your mouth so I can take a look." When I tried to move away, Death put a large hand on my back, pinning me to his thick wool 'coat.'
Tears threatened to spill from my eyes. "I'm fine. My teeth are fine, now," I whispered, pushing at his chest. I felt caged again. "Let me go."
"I want to see if your fangs are coming in. I've helped a lot of Reapers transition. If your teeth don't come in right you could face unbearable pain for a while."
"Don't you dare touch me!" I screeched. I could hear him leisurely slipping off his gloves. I pictured his mark hands on my skin, their branchy black vines latching onto my body and infecting me. "I said: don't touch me!"
"Knock it off, Faith, I'm trying to help you," Death snapped. "Your claws will retract as your fangs should, when you feel threatened." Death's squeezed my finger tips, hard. I didn't feel any snake-like vines latching onto my body In fact, Death's hands weren't exactly on the rough side. They were gentle, almost soft. My claws burned as they retracted and released back and forth as he applied pressure onto my fingers. It kind of felt...good. I stared into the darkness of the alley, until I felt one of Death's fingers tap at the side of my mouth. "Open wide." By the slightly laughter in his voice, I knew that Death had taken his own poor choice of words perversely.
"Do you even wash your hands?"
Death grabbed my jaw, and pried my mouth open like a car jack."You said your gums hurt, but they don't look inflamed. Your K9's and molars are all positioned correctly. The next time you are frightened, you could go into another erratic attack of spurts of pain, you'll bite down, then your fangs will unleash. If you bite down the first time you have fangs, with nothing in your mouth, you could hurt yourself greatly."
"Fangs?" My heart fluttered and panic rapidly pulsated through my body. "I don't want fangs, please don't let me have fangs!"
"There's no need to panic. If your fangs come in wrong you could look like a wildebeest."
Dread seized my chest. "Wildebeest!"
"Maybe more like piranha.."
"Piranha!"
Death's minty breath fanned my face. "Faith."
"What!?"
Death held me against the wall and let out a roar in my face. It wasn't just a roar, it was a howl of an animal. It sounded like a mix between a wolf, a lion, and a pterodactyl battling with underwater depth charges. The roar had caught me off guard. The roar had petrified me to the extent that I pressed myself further against the brick wall, frozen. The roar had apparently, in the end, prevented my fangs from coming in the wrong way.
His breathing was ragged from his bellowing howl. "I apologize, too."
Instead of wetting my pants on the spot in terror, I felt the erratic spurt of pain he had predicted. My knees buckled again with the pure, pulsing agony. Death held onto me, cursing in more than one language. I felt him reach into his pocket for something, right when I had the impulse to bite down.
Death thrust a rectangular object between my lips as if he was aggressively inserting a coin in a slot machine.
I bit down through cardboard and tasted tobacco. The pain in my gums came to an end.
"Devil's horns," Death muttered, wiping a drop of sweat that had rolled down my forehead, "that was more invigorating than that time I watched you rip your pants to shreds in your bedroom."
I popped the cigarette container out of my mouth with my tongue, prodded the razor sharp teeth in my mouth, and threw up until I was gagging on an empty stomach and the terrible tang of tobacco.
***
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