Page 16 of Bound to Death

“But will you answer any of it? So far, it feels like we’re going in circles. It’s giving me a headache.”

I glanced at the clock. Today was the only day I could laze around, but tomorrow it was back to work. Major Asshat Boss pulled a fast one on me and ordered I go into the office tomorrow tocatch upon a few client documents, stating in no small way that it was my sole responsibility even if it was his initial error that they got missed.

But alas, this was the life of a girl living in a capitalistic white man’s paradise. Unfortunately, supernatural killer or no, I still had bills to pay. If I was lucky, whoever or whatever this man was, he’d lose interest and go on his merry way. I’d deal with the other night the same way I dealt with my childhood—by not dealing with it. Stuff it down. Pretend it wasn’t there. Ignore the trauma I incurred, and then suffer when I was rudely triggered in public at random.

“Death,” he said after a long, very pregnant pause. One I was certain would lead straight into me giving up and leaving.

“Pardon?”

“Humans call me Death. The Reaper of Souls. Not one of many, but theonlyoneof my kind.” He watched me, gauging my reaction by the way his jaw clenched and his muscles firmed all over his chest.

If I hadn’t experienced what I had the night before, I would’ve laughed. Instead, a deep, aching sense of dread crept into my chest. A vice-grip took hold of my heart and lungs. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t decide whether to laugh or scream.

My trauma response kicked in, the numb reaching my head. “Death…”

“Yes.”

“And what…um, does your job entail? Wait, do you work? You said you sent those guys where they belonged, so…like, Hell?”

He was quiet, but like the night before, it was full of meaning. The killer—Death?—was silently studying me, figuring me out, wondering what my puny, human mind could handle. Then he spoke. One short, damning reply. One that would change the way I saw the world forever.

“Yes.”

Chapter Eight

Thanatos

I’d watched her for months, but being folded into their antics was a satisfying feeling I couldn’t name. I rarelyinteracted with humanity. What interactions I did have were predominantly business.

Death was busy.

The closest I came to what Asha and her friend shared was the other three Horsemen, but I hardly regarded them as friends. Inescapable acquaintances more like. These two women were bound to each other. Sworn sisters. Ride or dies as I’d overheard Asha mention a time or two when excusing her friend’s reckless behavior outside the office. My attachment to the Horsemen was agitating at best, though I had a soft spot for Ares. She didn’t thrive on the violence she created, simply knew it was necessary to maintaining the balance.

Humans called her War.

I didn’t realize I might yearn for something the two humans shared. It did, however, become painfully clear that I was weak to the same proclivities when Asha made expressions she hadn’t with me. When she let her guard down and gave into her friend more times than I could count. A nagging sensation reached my throat and clawed at my insides, demanding that I lay claim to her in front of the person who was her everything. If I didn’t charm her friend, I’d never charm my little raven.

Telling her I was Death was easier than I thought it would be. Maybe because I was resolute and saw no reason to hide it. Maybe because I wanted her to know me, the real me. The others would call it reckless. It was, but not for the reason they’d claim.

I expected fear when her entire reality shifted. I expected the little human to unravel and question the world she knew the second I exposed the truth. But I should’ve known that Asha would be different from the rest. Fear was there, but the strength and assurance she could coax answers from me shined through. She should be wailing and fleeing the room, but she wasn’t. She leaned back, the luscious curve of her delectable body a feastfor the eyes, and weighed her options. Sought audience with her thoughts in a way I never predicted.

It was captivating.

I’d taken a risk by staying and telling her who I truly was. By revealing more than the human mind could comprehend. For what reason? Why was it necessary? I could’ve fled at the first rays of light. I could’ve come to her as someone else and completely discard this version. Woo her in another form, as another person. But I laid her out over the worn floral sheets she should’ve tossed in the trash months ago and dressed her with care the other Horsemen would argue I didn’t possess. I couldn’t leave her side again, not like before. Not if it meant I’d be forgotten.

So, I took a chance. I stayed. And despite the fear creeping into her expression, she didn’t run. She stayed, too. She asked her questions, countered my non-answers with sass, and projected strength when she knew it was futile.

My courageous little raven stayed.

Something tugged at the edge of my consciousness. One ofthemwas reaching out. A second later, my phone dinged. Asha watched me dig it out of my back pocket. Her amused look was followed by a short, sassy “So, even Death can’t avoid being texted at all hours of the day? What a tragedy.”

My lips twitched, close to a smile, but I’d already given her too many. The fact that I lacked total control over my face around her was damning all on its own. Still, her saucy comment meant that maybe I hadn’t made a mistake. Maybe this was the perfect way to ripen and take her soul.

As Death.

As Thanatos.

The burn was back in my throat, fiercer than before. I ignored it. I’d never admit even to myself that I didn’t recognize my own reactions. I blamed the human body I created to walk this plane.Maybe it was malfunctioning because I wasn’t as practiced as my fellow Horsemen in the mortal realm. I was more comfortable as a raven or shadow, if I were honest.

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