Page 14 of Touch of Death
“Hmm, very well,” Death says, suddenly turning as a deafening whistle escapes him.
Cerberus freezes, his head cocking to one side in confusion.
“Death?” I question nervously, glancing between them.
“Trust me, little one,” Death says, his gaze fixed on Cerberus as he slowly lifts his hand to his face. My breath hitches as he pulls back his hood and carefully removes his bone mask, turning it over in his hand once before deftly hurling it a fair distance away.
For one horrifying second, nothing happens, but then Cerberus lets out a strangely playful yelp as he turns to race off after it.
“Quickly, now,” Death says, a wave of relief washing over me as he grabs my hand and drags me toward the towering tree line.
6
Hazel
Ican still feel the ground shaking as Cerberus bounds after Death’s mask, excited whimpers replacing his snarls as we step into the dark forest.
“Do not let go of my hand,” Death says, his voice low and commanding as he guides me through the densely packed trees. “We must move quickly, and it would be best for us not to get separated from one another in these woods.”
“And what would happen if we were to get separated?”
I cringe inwardly at the question, my curiosity getting the better of me.
“Nothing. I simply do not wish to lose you among the trees, little one.”
I get the feeling that there’s more to this than he’s letting on. That there’s a far more sinister reason behind the way he keeps me tucked so close to his side, especially given that we’d move so much faster if there was more space between us.
But I am unwilling to give voice to these observations. Not when my heart races with the thrill of his touch, even with the thick black leather of his gloves a constant barrier between us.
This close, his body practically drains me of what little warmth I have left, and yet, I could not care less. The very nearness of him has me burning for him in ways I can hardly imagine without blushing.
Death’s icy shadows coil around us, darting off in random directions at odd intervals as if searching out the way ahead. As the minutes turn into hours, our pace never slowing, my body begins to grow weary despite my best efforts to keep up.
“Where are we going?” I ask when I start to worry that I won’t be able to continue on much longer.
Death pauses, our footsteps quieting for a moment, as he turns to look down at me. I inhale sharply, once again taken aback by the terrifying intensity of his beauty against the backdrop of the darkening forest. I’m almost surprised my heart still dares to beat at the sight of him.
“I am taking you to Aglaia, City of the Gods,” he answers before continuing on through the trees. “We should reach it by morning and hopefully find help somewhere within.”
My eyes widen at the prospect of entering a city specifically made for the gods themselves. Nerves twist my stomach into knots as I wonder what such a place will be like.
I try my best to keep pace with Death, but this time I’m unable to keep my questions at bay.
“Have you visited Aglaia before?”
“On occasion,” he says with a nod, “but only when absolutely necessary.”
“When was the last time you visited?”
He’s quiet for a long moment before answering, “A century ago, perhaps longer.”
“What are they like, the gods?”
Again, he falls quietly into thought, the crunch of our footsteps the only sound left to fill my ears as I wait. When the silence stretches on for another minute, I tentatively glance up at his face to realize his expression has grown dark and brooding ... which only makes me all the more curious to hear his answer.
“They think very highly of themselves,” he finally says, the tone of his voice making it clear how greatly his distaste for the gods is. “Most of them have spent far too many years being worshipped by you mortals to have any sense of decency left in them. I would not bring you into their midst if I thought there was another way.”
The disdain on his face is enough for me to bite my tongue … for a while.
