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Chapter 43: Edge of Night

AYYYYYYY!!!!! WAZZUP???

Sorry about the WAIT! (Who the hell does she think she IS?) I've been so busy and this is a little bit of a filler-chapter but wanted to get something up quick for my bb's and so I could put a pretty big announcement at the end!!! ;) 

Please share this story, vote, comment, and leave feedback to help me out!! YEET! ;)

Death and I warped back to the entryway of his apartment.

Within seconds, his horns evaporated, and the obsidian shade of his monstrous half-form disintegrated back into his tattoos, leaving behind the bronze, mouthwatering Fallen that had an even more dangerous effect on me. This version of him cruelly mimicked a human being. A very muscular, very lethal, very exotic looking human being, moving toward me...

Death's mouth crashed against mine. My hands didn't know where to go and gripped his bare forearms. His tongue flicked against my teeth, and it was then I tasted his blood dripping into my mouth. That strange, sweet, thin texture of a Fallen's blood. He gripped the back of my head, prying open my mouth as he went to town on, stroking my tongue over and over again as blood poured down my throat like hot, liquid sugar. I slid my grip up his powerful arms to the back of his skull to have an excuse to that silky soft hair again. The madness of his bloody tongue slowly sliding across my lip one last time before he pulled away nearly made me collapse.

I felt my strength return at full-force as well as my sobriety as I pushed him away, breathing hard. He thumped a little against the opposite side of the hallway with his black hair sticking up from my hands, gaping at me with dark, carnal eyes.

Tasting his blood in my mouth again was the last thing I would find hot, but here I was. "What the hell was that, Death?"

"You lost too much blood," he said, very matter-a-factly, whereas my head was spinning. "You weren't healing yourself."

I wiped the back of my hand over my mouth. "Couldn't you have put your freaky blood in a glass or something?"

Death snickered and tucked his lower lip into his mouth to bite back a smirk, polishing off a droplet of blood on a silver loop piercing. "Where's the fun in that?"

The sound of male voices and laughter echoed down the entryway. Death didn't seem surprised and brushed past me, stalking down the hallway and leaving me pressed flat against the wall. Frustrated in more ways than one, I had no other choice but to follow him.

Imagine our surprise when we discovered a whole gang of Reapers watching Tangled in Death's living room. Death motioned for me to get back behind the wall dividing the kitchen and the dining room, so that we were hidden from the Reapers. He put a finger to his lips, pointed at the Reapers, and then crossed his thick arms over his chest.

We observed his subordinates as if were at a zoo.

Gunner and Wolf were sprawled on the large couch facing the TV fighting over popcorn, Romeo wore a sleep mask and was drooped in a beanbag with one hand resting halfway down his pants and his other holding a bottle of liquor, Denim sat watching the television fully dressed in gear with a rigid posture, Blade sat crisscross apple sauce on the floor furiously sharpening his knife, Leo was playing some sort of Gameboy that made him rage quit at that exact moment, and Flash laid haphazardly on the coffee table in the middle of all of them, snoring noisily.

"These twin thieves are absolute morons," Wolf said, fully invested in the television, just like Denim. He managed to wrestle Gunner into a power headlock and snatched a big handful of popcorn, shoving it greedily mouth. He paused and made a face mid-chew. "Why the fuck is my tongue burning, Gun? I thought this was normal popcorn!"

"It's gourmet," Gunner explained crossly, yanking himself free from Wolf's armpit. "Flavor is important."

Wolf let out an exasperated sigh. "What is wrong with you? Butter is enough flavor for popcorn."

"Unlike you, I'm a culturally sophisticated food connoisseur, who occasionally dabbles in ethnic spices in his popcorn. You, on the other hand, dabble into other people's popcorn and then judge them, when you're just basic and would be perfectly satisfied eating uncooked ramen with ketchup three times a day."

"I'm going to dabble into your entrails with my knife in second, if you don't shut up," Blade growled from his spot on the floor, swiping his dagger over a sharpener with emphasis.

"Don't start, Blade," Leo warned in a distracted, but firm voice, as he tilted his phone and rapidly pressed his fingers against the buttons of his Gameboy. "Yes! New national high score. Eat a dick, ChucklesFuKles652."

Wolf swiped out and flicked Gunner's bowl of popcorn with enough force to make it rain corn down on everybody. "How's that for sophistication? Nobody asked for your goddamn ethnic popcorn. You're going to fuck up my eternal bowels!"

"Seriously, man?" Cursing, Gunner got onto all fours and start collecting the popcorn off the floor. "Kleptomaniacal asshole..."

"I still can't believe these seven bozos are your Reapers," I whispered over Death's shoulder. "But I guess this is how all men are when they're not working. Warp back into their twelve-year-old true forms and act like buffoons."

Death turned his head and side-eyed me. "You know too much," he growled, "and we prefer the term boneheads."

Flash snored especially loud on the coffee table and choked on a piece of popcorn. He coughed and spat. The kernel went flying across the room as Flash rose from the table like Dracula rising from his coffin. "What year is it?" he asked groggily.

Romeo, still blindfolded by his sleep mask, flicked off the piece of wet popcorn from Flash's mouth off of his cheek. "Excuse me!" he screamed, as if he could hardly hear himself talk over his earbuds. Blade covered his ears and shot Romeo a seething look. "I'm trying to relax, here! Can't an exanimated creature of the night enjoy his steamy mafia audiobook porn in peace?"

"Disgusting," Blade hissed. "Didn't you get enough bloody action tonight with those twins?"

"You're just jealous because he did, and you didn't," Wolf said with a grin and took a swig from a chocolate milk container. "But hey, if you fixed your piss-poor attitude and didn't carry those stupid knives everywhere, I'm sure you could get a pity fuck from some poor lassie."

Blade feigned a laugh. "How about I just punch your face down your throat and fuck your mutilated head instead?"

Death looked back over his shoulder with a 'we should try that' face. I punched him in the bicep, suppressing my laughter with my palm at his silent, theatrical reaction, as small sparks of blue and white fire enflamed his tattooed skin from my knuckles.

"Noice," Romeo said in an Australian accent, sitting up from his bean bag chair with his sleep mask still on. Neither of the Reapers had noticed us yet. "I heard skull fuck. Can I get a viddy of that?"

"Everybody shut the hell up, this is my favorite part!" Denim boomed with a surprising amount of excitement in his voice, pointing to the television.

"Death is going to kill me, all these bits of popcorn all over the place," Gunner muttered, rapidly collecting the food off the floor. "Shit, there's chocolate milk all over the ottoman. Where the hell is Cruentas when you need him?"

"I think you should make your dramatic entrance now," I whispered to Death.

On cue, Death's fists clenched so hard that his knuckles cracked, and he released a bestial noise. "Well isn't this cute," he boomed, stalking into the living room. All the Reapers froze like children caught misbehaving. "I must have forgotten allowing a slumber party between my feared soldiers of the undead...in my fucking living room."

Six heads faced us. Leo immediately stood up. Denim, perhaps realizing he looked too interested in a Disney movie, hoisted himself up too fast, which resulted in catapulting the TV remote in his lap and hitting Wolf in the head with it. Wolf cursed and quickly fisted the remote to shut the television off screen mid-sing-along, as Gunner panicked and lounged on the ground with a big, goofy grin to hide the rest of the popcorn on the floor.

I watched the Reaper's wide eyes bounce back and forth between Death and I as they took in my blood-stained clothes, Death's lack of clothing on his torso.

"Before you get mad," Flash said, wiping a bit of drool from his mouth. He jabbed a finger at Gluttony. "Gunner's the one who drank all your chocolate milk and locked Glenn in the coat closet with a confining spell."

"He's also responsible for all the popcorn on the floor," Wolf added with a dark smile.

Gunner choked on his spit. "Death––er––Your Highness, I would never––"

Death held up his palm. "Clean it up. Now."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. On it, sir."

Romeo, who had been in his own world listening to his audiobook, finally flipped up his sleep mask and locked onto Death and me. "Mumzy and Zaddy are home––!" His neon pink eyes landed on my torn clothes. "Oh. Well, I'll be hanged! That is a lot of blood. Hath thy Prince of Darkness slayeth the forbidden maiden?"

"Are you okay?" Leo asked, his gaze slightly covetous as he looked between Death and I with his mouth thinned. I couldn't help but feel guilty. "You have blood all over you."

"I'm alright." Some of the fresher blood was uncomfortable at the reminder of what had just happened in the entryway of Death's apartment. "Death––er––healed me..."

"Good thing, because you look like you were mauled alive," Wolf snickered.

Death a low, terrifying noise at the back of his throat and cracked his head to the side as the Reapers all laughed. "She did a number on me, too. Believe me."

"I bet she did," Romeo said with a sly raise of his eyebrow. "Where's your shirt?"

"Yeah, where's your shirt, virginkiller?" Wolf pressed.

"We were sparring," Death defended, his nostrils flaring. The Reapers couldn't tell, but up close, his cheeks were getting a little pink. "Have you all really been futzing around this whole fucking time I've been gone?"

"Subject change," Romeo said.

"Indeed," Denim said, "the subject has been reformed."

"They screwed," Flash chimed in.

"Who cares," Blade grumbled.

Romeo sniffed the air. "Mm, not quite screwed, me thinks. Maybe he just gave her fiddle a little diddle?"

I palmed my face. "He did not just say that..."

"Enough," Death snarled. The Reapers bowed their head submissively. "I want all of you out of here, and all of this shit cleaned up. Tomorrow we will meet at the agreed time. And don't do anything stupid in-between now and then. Understand?"

They each groaned and vocalized their agreement in unison. Each Reaper cleaned up their mess in a blink of an eye and vanished, while Death stormed to his coat closet and threw it open. Sure enough, the small little man with glasses named Glenn came ambling out.

"My-my lord!" he stuttered, and then pushed his glasses up to look at me. I smiled at him and he flushed, smiling back. "Lovely to see you two together on this unpleasant night."

Death stabbed his finger toward the front door. "Good bye, Glenn."

"How long were you in there?" I asked, moving in front of Death's furious body to peer into the closet.

"Only two hours, twenty-four minutes and and fifteen seconds," Glenn said with a small laugh. "No big deal. I find claustrophobic spaces to be quite refreshing, actually. I used to live in a panic room with four Terrors!"

"Terrors?"

"Oh, I forgot, you are unfamiliar with our kind." He pushed his glasses up his nose . "Terror's are a species of demon that prey on small children. You'd be surprised how territorial they are. Plus, they have these sharp prickly things on their skin that shed off when they mate, and they mate often. Unfortunately, I was rooming with two male and two female Terrors, so you one can only imagine–– "

"Glenn," Death roared over my shoulder. "Now."

Glenn flung back and flattened against the wall. "Sorrymylord!" He dove through the front door as if it were a hologram and evaporated.

"I like him," I decided. "He's funny and awkward."

Death lifted his lip in a snarl of disgust. "He's a disease."

"Your Highness," Leo announced from the living room, having been the only Reaper who stayed. He stood with a wide stance, his arms crossed over his chest. "If you don't mind, I was hoping to present my thoughts to you before you rest. Should you need another companion, someone trusted and skilled enough to accompany you into the portal, I advise you use me. Obviously, my power wouldn't deplete as fast in the other worlds as the others would, since I am the eldest of the Seven."

I looked up at Death, thinking this was a good idea. "Maybe it wouldn't hurt to have one more person go into the portal with us."

"No," Death said, and that was it. My teeth grated together. "You have just as much knowledge of navigating through the realms as I do, Leo. I won't risk one of the Seven getting lost in the Unknown. The longer a Reaper is away from the mortals, the weaker you become. I am just as vulnerable without my scythe, but I am ancient, and therefore my soul is drastically more resistant to the consequences of fasting in the other worlds than all of yours are. I need you to stay here, where you are strong with your brothers, and collect. Without the demon in Faith's pendant that she can awaken to help us, even I wouldn't feel confident enough to seek Ahrimad in hiding."

"With all due respect, Your Highness, this plan doesn't seem as put-together as it needs to be. We've hardly spoken, discussed strategy, or prepared for the worst-case scenario. It's very unlike you." His dark amber eyes drifted briefly over to me. "I worry for your safety."

"As do I," I added, knowing just how compromised his safety was. "I think we should plan this out more thoroughly, instead of acting rashly."

Death's jaw tightened. He kept his eyes trained on Leo. "Time is not on our side with this mission. Because of the paranormal elements involved in my stolen scythe, all outcomes are uncertain. We've had to act fast. If there are obstacles, I will handle them accordingly. And that is all I have to say on the matter."

Leo stood there a moment longer, silent, before nodding once. "As you command, my lord." He started to turn, when he caught my eye and smiled. "Good night."

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Good night."

Once Leo was gone, Death gave me a quick, seething look, before stalking away. Frowning, I trailed after him. "Um, excuse me, Grim Crabby. Where are you––?"

He pivoted around, and I nearly crashed into his bare chest. "You put yourself in middle of my discussion with my subordinate and placed yourself in a position of authority over me. Don't do it again."

I blinked up at him, utterly confused. "Excuse me?"

"Don't do it again," he repeated, and his voice transforming with power. "Or you will be severely punished."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Wow. Here come your outdated villainous torture tactics, right?"

Death cocked his head to the side, blackness splotching over his jawline before he shook himself free of it. "Who said it'd be that kind of torture?" The sinister flicker of desire in his green eyes brought chills down my spine. "Maybe I'll take it out on your soft thighs."

A slow burn that tore through me, and my mouth went cotton dry. "Listen, if you really haven't gotten the memo by now, everyone is sick and tired of your 'I-lost-my-scythe-boo-hoo' moods. You're mad because I agreed with Leo that you are entering into a suicide mission on a wing and a prayer. Get over yourself and go take a shower, you smell like undead asshole."

His face was priceless. Of course, he didn't smell bad, he never did––which was beyond me––but he didn't have to know that. I brushed past him, feeling pleased with myself, and headed down the hallway to my room, when Death manifested in front of me, blocking my way with his monstrous frame. His arms were spread out, bracing his hand on either side of the hallway and drawing attention to his powerful upper body and outrageous abs. And he knew it, by that slow grin that stretched across his fanged mouth.

"Smell like undead asshole?"

"Was I not speaking plain English?"

"Then why don't you take a shower with me?"

The back of my neck prickled. I tried to keep my utter disbelief inside, but knew I was failing.

"It's just that, my shower is much more efficient than yours," Death explained with feigned concern, stretching his hands higher on either side of the hallway and loomed over me. "We'd be saving a ton of water between us."

All I could do was just stare at him, dumbfounded that we were even having this conversation.

"What's wrong?" he asked, imploring me with his gaze. "Afraid of what will happen after you see me naked and sudsy? Or are you just a little cock-aphobic?"

"I'm not afraid of it," I muttered.

"Oh, I'm not afraid of that clown either," he said, baring his white fangs. "But what about my dick?"

"I'm not afraid of your dick," I snapped.

"Whoa, there," Death said, raising his palms up as he stalked a slow circle around me. He rubbed at his dark stubble. "My apologies, Cupcake. Didn't know you had it in you to speak so explicitly."

He flicked a strand of my hair.

"Let me guess," I said, whirling around to face him. His wandering hands were already clasped behind his back, but his eyes remained mischievous. "Your reward for beating me is you want to deflower the virgin before you kick the bucket?"

He lowered his head slightly, looking at me from under his lashes. "Maybe I just want to hang out with you."

"Naked in the shower?"

His sinister laugh brought chills down my spine. "Don't get your panties in a twist. It was just a joke. Like you'd ever strip down to your birthday suit and take a bath with me in the nuddy." 

"A bath? I thought cats don't like water."

He grinned. "I like baths. I like to soak."

"Soaking in your own sludge. Explains that smell. And your ego."

"For your information, I shower before I bathe." Death played with the piercing on his lip with his tongue. "You should listen to all of the little noises you make when I touch you. Like you're in the palm of my hand. Now that's feeding my ego."

I smiled. "I never asked."

"You're looking a little rosy, Lamp Girl." The way a part of his raven black hair and fallen into his eyes was driving me insane. "I haven't even said anything remotely dirty. But the night is still young. Ever take a bubble bath in a jacuzzi the size of a pick-up truck? Come on, nobody has to know."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I don't want to hear about your bath routine––"

"But I want to hear about yours." He flashed a massive fanged grin straight out of a child's nightmare. It was concerning how charming I found it instead. "Are you a rag or loofa kind of girl? Or do you just swipe that lucky bar of soap up and down your kitty like a credit card?" He stared down at me with a serious expression as he acted out the swiping motion, and it took everything in me not to laugh.

I rolled my eyes. "I think we're done here."

Death manifested and blocked my way again, sprawling lazily against the hallway wall with sin pooling in his mismatched eyes. "Honestly, Cupcake, lighten up. Everybody gets a little panicky about being naked with somebody else and revealing their bits. Except for me, of course, but that's because of my very sad, very rare condition. TBCS."

"You know what I'm really thinking?" I asked.

"Crickets chirping?"

"I think you need to find a hobby outside of getting under my skin and talking about your manhood like it's the Great Bambino of dicks."

He gazed longingly at me with those otherworldly cat eyes. "After carefully considering your virginal opinion, my answer is and always will be, no. Getting under your skin, making you all hot and bothered, brings me immense pleasure. Almost more than beating you at everything."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Alright, enough with this frisky cat performance. What do you want for your win? A pole with a piece of string and a feather dangling from the end of it?"

He arched a scarred, sly brow. "I'm meditating on it. Just the idea that you owe me is so electrifying, isn't it?"

My glared at him in annoyance. He was really going to milk this. "On second thought, I'm pretty tired." I started to walk away again, when Death reached out and grasped my arm.

"Wait." The ping of panic in his voice made me immediately turn back around. Fear stuttered in his eyes before he released me with another cocky, feral grin. "What do you imagine doing after we take our boring, lonesome showers? Build a tent out of a sheet so you can go at it in a coloring book in privacy? I want to see the artist at work."

"Actually, after our lonesome showers, I've teamed up with Ace to lock you in a soundproof room that prevents you from vanishing into mysterious mists." I tried to ignore the way he kept tilting his head whenever I talked and failed. It was incredibly distracting. "But besides that, I might watch a movie."

His expression perked up. "Horror?"

"My life is already a horror movie with you," I said with a snarky smile. "And I was talking about watching a movie by myself."

He clutched his chest. "My unbeating heart."

"Pick another genre and maybe I'll invite you," I teased, strutting past him. Sadness little the further I walked away, and Death's voice stopped me.

"Cupcake." When I looked back at him, the knowing smile curving his sinful lips brought a chill down my spine. "We are all morally ambiguous when instinct kicks in. Don't deny that slice of mine inside your soul. Light is your hope and darkness is your strength to make the choices nobody else can."

My throat felt tight. Nodding once, I shut that guestroom door behind me and braced my hands on the dresser beside it to keep me upright. My heart thrashed against my ribs at the thought of being alone with him again. This wasn't just fear. No, this feeling was much, much more suffocating than fear.

Death held me in the palm of his hand longer than I cared to admit. And it wasn't just my soul he possessed, but also the knowledge of everything that made me, me. The thought of losing him made me feel like I was drowning above water. He'd become the angel before the fall, the darkness I'd forgotten how to live without, and we both stood on the edge of the night with everything to lose. Waiting for the inevitable meant you had time. Time, instead of a threat of destiny and a crooked hourglass ticking away your last few grains of sand. 

* * *

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ANNOUNCEMENT:

AHHHHH, IT'S OFFICIAL!!!! AS ANNOUNCED ON DEADLINE.COM, DEATH IS MY BFF IS BEING DEVELOPED FOR THE SYFY NETWORK WITH THE BEST TEAM BEHIND IT!! GET HYPED!! SHARE THE NEWS AND LET'S GROW THE REAPER FAMILY!😈

Where do I even begin?????? CAN WE JUST TALK ABOUT THAT SYNOPSIS THOUGH IN THE OFFICIAL ARTICLE?!????!!!!!! EVERYONE GO ON DEADLINE.COM RIGHT NOW AND READ THAT BEAUTIFUL SHIT SO WE ARE ON THE SAME PAGE AND CRYING TOGETHER LMAO!!!! <3

First of all, thank you so much to my readers, family, and friends for supporting me on this unbelievable journey! I can honestly say that SyFy is the PERFECT home for my Death Chronicles. They're a network obsessed with the paranormal––dark, gritty, fun stories with insane romance and complex characters, just like Death is My BFF. The Magicians and Deadly Class (Deadly Class is Sony produced!!) are both super cinematic, original epic-ness, so I am SO BEYOND EXCITED and honored and humbled that my characters/children (lol) will have the same network home! :'-)

Now if the network news isn't exciting enough, the writer for the show (Lindsey Rosin) is INCREDIBLE!!! An extremely talented screenplay writer and novelist. I've known her since August of last year, so that just tells you how secretive Hollywood stuff is! Lindsey is 1000% Reaper. One of the first things she ever told me was: "I think your books are an absolute home run in every way possible – from the characters to the story to all the feelings..." ( #exposed, sorry Lindsey) Lindsey's also been lingering in the shadows of my Death is My BFF Facebook group and has the cutest dog ever which is clearly the most important thing. SHOW HER SOME REAPER LOVE YAYYYY!!!

What can you do to help this project? FANGIRL!!!!! Join the Facebook group for DIMBFF!!! Share this news with everyone you know right now and show SyFy how eager and excited you are to see this show!!! :DDDDDDD

Love,
Kat

P.S– Here's an exclusive piece of the pitch board with some of the many BEAUTIFUL fan art that I've received over the years that Lindsey used to pitch Death is My BFF!! EEEP! I LOVE YOU GUYS YOU'RE SO TALENTED WTF.

JOIN THE FACEBOOK GROUP FOR DEATH IS MY BFF FOR EXCLUSIVE INFO AND NEWS ABOUT DEATH IS MY BFF!!!! LINK IN MY BIO ON MY PROFILE!! <3333



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