Page 41 of Touch of Death
Death’s words echo through me, and I worry that he will be proven correct. That all eyes will be on me, a mere mortal, and I will be found wanting.
I cling tighter to Death’s arm as we finally step into a lush hanging garden. Twinkling lights dance between pastel flowers that lightly scent the soft breeze. Cushions have been spread out on the grass, with several low tables between them.
My eyes catch on the food that is piled high on each of the tables. I can’t even begin to name half of it as my stomach gives a soft growl, reminding me it’s been days since I last ate.
Death tucks me closer to his side as we step into view of the others as they mill about the sprawling garden. Several turn to us, raising crystal goblets in silent greeting, and I blush as one of them gives me an appreciative once-over.
We barely make it more than a few steps, though, before Eros suddenly appears, a grin spreading across his face as he takes us in. Around him, several stunning women shift toward him as if instantly drawn to his presence.
He ignores them, even as some of the braver ones reach to grab at the lengths of his white garments. Eros shakes them off with ease, though the desire in their eyes remains hungry as they continue to stare at him.
“Welcome,” he says in greeting. “I am happy to see you both have accepted my small gift of new clothing. I must say, your presence is … enchanting in it.”
Eros directs this last part toward me, reaching out to take my free hand before I can protest and bringing it to his lips. Death tenses as Eros presses a kiss to the back of my hand and gives me a brilliant smile.
I try my best to force a smile of my own onto my lips, even as his touch seems to drain me from the very depths of my being, and I debate how best to politely steal my hand back.
“Thank you,” I say, curious how he knows how I look. Even now, as he stares at me with his white eyes, they appear unfocused. Surely, he can’tactuallysee what we are wearing and is just giving me a compliment in the hopes of winning me over.
Still, I’m unsettled by the fact that I have no idea how much he sees, and I make a mental note to ask Death if he knows.
“Come, let us feast,” Eros says.
With my hand still in his, and my strength slowly draining from me, I have little choice but to trail after him as he turns. Death allows my arm to slip from his, but catches my hand instead as Eros drags me behind him, weaving his way through those gathered about the garden.
Several nod and smile at him, though he makes no show of seeing them. Suddenly, Eros gives me a small tug as he abruptly changes directions, and my hand slips from Death’s before he can catch it.
Thankfully, we come to a stop at a crowded table, piled high with delicious-smelling food, the next second.
“Leave us,” Eros says, waving his free hand at those seated around the table.
They glance between us, sharing knowing smiles and small looks between them, before doing as Eros demands. Surprisingly, they don’t appear too put out over losing their seats to us.
Eros grins at me as he flops down atop the cushions, pulling me down on top of him in the process. I collapse onto the cushions next to him in a far less graceful heap, praying that my dress is still held together as I finally manage to untangle myself from him.
Death settles on the cushions opposite us, his eyes checking in on me before narrowing on Eros.
“You must be famished,” he says, reaching across to a pile of plums and plucking one to place on the empty plate in front of me.
“Thank you.”
“I always find that when I travel, even the smallest of distances, I am always ready for a good meal,” he says, adding a leg of some unknown meat and a handful of spiced almonds to my plate. “The last time I went to a party, I was absolutely appalled that they offered their guests no refreshments. Imagine.”
He chatters on, oblivious to Death’s glare or the way I don’t touch any of the food he continues to add to my plate. My stomach growls, but I find myself suddenly unable to eat, his words barely registering as I take a moment to glance about the garden.
Guests laugh as they eat and sip from their goblets, the heady wine combining with the floral scent of the garden in a way that makes my head spin.
“You must try this,” Eros says, pulling my attention back to him as he lifts a goblet full of shimmering liquid to my lips. “Ambrosia of my own making; no mortal has yet tasted it.”
Before I can take a sip, Death reaches across the table and places his palm over the goblet. He pushes it back down to the table, his eyes darkening as Eros finally looks his way.
“That is enough, Eros,” Death says. “How do you plan to help us deal with Cerberus?”
Eros lets out a sigh. Brushing away Death’s hand, he lifts the goblet to his own mouth and drinks deeply from it before setting it back down. His mood suddenly serious as he looks at Death again.
For the first time since sitting, I actually find myself leaning toward him, eager to hear what his plans actually are.
“I suppose that would depend on the mortal,” he says, turning to look my way. “Tell me, how much experience do you already have?”
