Page 42 of A Bond in Flames

I would be. No, I didn’t really think deadly wolfsbane in the soup or hemlock baked into the bread was her style, but I wasn’t going to take her word for it.

“So how have you been getting along with my son?” she asked after swallowing a spoonful of wolfsbane soup.

“Why don’t you ask him that yourself when he gets here?” I said, because Death would be coming, and he would be furious when he arrived. “I’m sure he’s worked out who snatched me off our ship.”

Her smile turned indulgent. “Mors can be rather possessive, can he not? An independent female such as yourself must be finding it hard to adjust.” She broke off a small piece of hemlock bread and popped it in her mouth. Then she held out the basket. “Are you sure you won’t have some? It’s very good.”

“I’m sure, thank you.”

“Did you know there were others before you?” she asked, turning on her seat to face me.

Bitch. “I did, yes.”

She did her tittering laugh. “Of course you did. Do you think you’re different? That you’ll be the exception, Zinnia?”

“Why not?” I said, because I knew it would annoy her. She liked to be the most arrogant monster in the room, but I could be arrogant as well. If nothing else, it’d amuse me to piss her off. “I’m no goddess, but I am a powerful witch, and your son likes me very much. He doesn’t seem that fond of you, though, for some reason. Why is that?”

The amusement in her eyes vanished, quickly replaced by vicious glee. “Do you want children, Zinnia?” she asked, ignoring my question.

Every part of me stilled. She knew. She knew my deepest, darkest secret. “I’m not sure. I haven’t really thought about it.”

“You probably should. My son has always wanted a child—a lot of them.”

Nausea swirled in my belly. “We haven’t talked about it,” I said, trying to stop my hands from shaking.

Her black eyes bored into me, sinking deep. “Perhaps you should, dear.” Then she turned, her gaze sliding to the main doors a moment before they flew apart, the wood splintering into shrapnel.

Demons ducked for cover a moment before Death strode in, expression like thunder. He was shirtless, his leather pants straining over his thighs. His stomach was taut, and the fist of one hand was clenched around his staff as shadows swirled, gathering around him, turning into his cloak. My heart thundered in my chest at the sight of him. His face was transformed, the shadows turning it into a skull, but instead of dark eye sockets, his blue gaze glowed out from under the hood of his cloak. “Zinnia!” he roared.

Nox waved her demons forward, and they instantly and stupidly ran at him.

“It’s better if he blows off some steam before we converse,” Nox said to me, completely unaffected. “He seems agitated.”

He looked ready to tear the temple down around us. The demons ran at him, and he smashed his fist into the first one’s head, crushing his skull. He spun his staff, slamming into them as they attacked, slicing and hacking them to pieces, but they kept coming, essentially committing suicide, one after the other, blindly doing as Nox bid them.

Death was smeared with demon blood and ash, veins bulging, jaw clenched, rage rolling off him. It didn’t seem as if mutilating a roomful of demons and other creatures was helping calm him down; in fact, it seemed the opposite to me.

I stood so he’d see me over the chaos, and his gaze sliced to me instantly. He strode toward me, swiping demons out of his way with one brutal swing of his staff after another, until he reached me. He didn’t spare his mother a glance; he hooked his arm around my waist and hoisted me up so I was partially over his shoulder.

“So sensitive,” Nox said with a sigh. “You always were my sensitive boy.”

Death’s grip on me was bruising and kind of humiliating, but I didn’t say a word or try to get down, not when fury sparked off him like a live wire ready to set everything in his path on fire.

“You know why we’re here, and if you try to stop us, if you come near my consort again or have your demons follow us, I will slaughter every demon in your realm. You know I can, and you know I will.”

Her lips pursed, and the look in her eyes turned nasty. “You’re wasting your time with this one—you know as well as I do. She’s not fit to rule beside you, my son. She’s as weak as the others.” She tilted her head, a look of fake sympathy rearranging her features. “Maybe next time?” She stood and lifted her hands palm up, and shadows began to swirl above them, so thick and dark, it was like she held the night in her hands. Power snapped from her, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “Let me end this for you now. Let me end this before you grow attached to her and you’re hurt when this ends as badly as the rest.”

“No,” Death roared as he slammed his staff onto the floor. The marble cracked, a fault line snaking across the entire room and out of sight. “You are not the only god in this room. You may have limited my powers here, but I am not powerless. Attempt to take her from me and see what happens. You’re not as strong as you once were, whereas I grow stronger with every passing day. Make a move to hurt her, and I will destroy you.”

Malice lit her face, but she dropped her hands. “It was only a suggestion. I care about you, you must see that?”

“Do not follow us,” he snarled, ignoring her bullshit, and pointed a thick, tattooed finger at her. “I’m warning you now, and I won’t do it again—I will strike you down.” He strode from the room into the massive entrance hall, then out the doors.

As soon as we were outside, he lowered me to my feet. “Are you injured?” His eyes narrowed. “Your face. They hit you?”

“I’m fine.”

His fury ratcheted back up. “I told you, more than once, do not leave my side.”

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