Page 21 of Death C*mes Inside Her
“Promise you won’t leave me.” The words slip out before I can catch them.
He goes very still. “Never,” he growls, and it rolls through his chest into mine. I believe him before I know I do.
Sleep takes me then, breathing with him, against him, safe.
Chapter 8
Aios
Ileft Eve sleeping. I hate being away from her, but we made a bargain, and I intend to keep it.
As I step into the bank foyer, I’m gratified by the screams. It’s been so long since I heard human screams. Of terror, anyway. Eve makes such lovely screams when she’s being pleasured, but that’s different.
I stride through the crowds as they flee, and lean against the glass as the teller stares, unblinking.
I’ve conjured a dapper black suit, white shirt and of course, as cliché as it is, a blood red tie.
I look good. But, to the credit of the teller credit, he hasn’t fainted either from fear or awe.
“Who owns the property at 23 Widow’s Walk?” I demand, trying to keep my voice from instilling too much terror in this mortal.
His lip quivers, and he shakes his head. “Please…”
“Who’s in charge?” I try.
He lifts a trembling hand and gestures to some stairs. The other hand isn’t anywhere to be seen. An alarm of some sort? That’s adorable. As if his human law enforcement would stand a chance against me.
I nod, drop a few conjured gold coins on the desk, turn, and head for the stairs.
At the top, I find the office marked “MANAGER” and enter without knocking. The woman behind the desk jumps out of her seat, running for the window, then drops into a crouch when I step her way.
Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have a problem with suicide, but I need to conclude our business quickly, and figuring out who’s next in line of ownership would be more hassle.
“God, please save me…” she’s whispering, fingering a silver cross hung around her neck. “What’s happening? Oh, God…”
“The property at 23 Widow’s Walk,” I say, dispensing with pleasantries. “What do you want in exchange for the deed?”
“Twenty-three…”
“Widow’s Walk,” I repeat impatience making is hard to not stop her heart with a flick of my finger, then try to remember the original name of the house. “Wintermere. I want it. You’re going to sign it over to me. Tell me what you need, and make it quick. What’s the going rate? A lifetime of riches? A dozen virgins? The presidency?”
She stares, and for a moment I think she might pee herself. Then I see the sparkle in her eyes, and if I had lips, I’d be grinning.
Greed is such a powerful motivator. She forgot her religion soon enough.
“Wintermere,” she repeats, her breathing starting to calm. She still backs away from me, but this time she’s going to her desk. She runs her fingers over the keys of the device there, click-click-clicking, then nods. “23 Widow’s Walk. A fine property. In need of some renovation work, but the bank took possession of it—”
“I know all about possession.Youare the bank’s representative. Tell me what you want.”
“Well, you’d have to pay the back taxes…”
I lean forward, and she lets out a little shriek as my face comes close to hers. “Don’t try my patience, mortal.”
“I…” The defiance enters her eyes, and I know I have her. “I want to never want for anything again.”
“Done,” I say, and hold out my hand. “Now, put the name of Eve Davenport on that deed, and be quick about it.”
And when she shakes it, I don’t bother pulling in my talons.
