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“They’re right in front of me and I can’t stop staring at them,” Byron blurted. “And I don’t even like girls. You’re about to make a crazy amount of friends tonight.”
I groaned, wilting against a marble countertop. “I have two friends, and that’s more than enough.”
“Hey.” A tall, redhead guy who clearly didn’t hear my last remark gave me a winning smile. “I’m Eddard. I love your outfit. Skeleton bride. Hot.”
I had a split second to make a choice, and I decided to throw my best friend under the bus and hope he didn’t exact revenge later.
“Aw, thanks!” I said in a sweet voice that was nothing close to natural. “My husband helped me pick it.” I batted my lashes at Byron, reaching over to entwine our hands.
Eddard made himself very quickly scarce. He didn’t even make an excuse. I snorted.
“I’ve just decided I’m keeping a fuckboy tally. How many do you think I’ll thwart by the end of the night?”
Byron raised an eyebrow, lifting our joined hands. “Can you thwart them without the use of a husband? I would like to talk to some people tonight, thank you.”
I stared at him like he’d grown a second head.
“Only if they’re hot,” he added.
“Obviously.” It went without saying.
“And to answer your question, at least ten, maybe twenty.” Byron winked. “And look, here’s your next one.”
I groaned, glancing at the short, blonde ‘wizard’ eyeing me up from across the room. By the time I glanced back, Byron had disappeared. Sneaky bastard.
So much for introverts unite.
CHAPTER SIX
DEATH
There was a disturbance, like a tremor along a violin string usually still. A soft humming sound in a place of eternal silence.
I squinted out the bay window at the castle grounds and strained my hearing for anything out of place. There was nothing except Misery’s prairie dog yahooing in her freshly cleaned gilded enclosure.
Sometimes I fantasised about touching that creature a little too long, letting slip a little death magic, and freeing myself of the yowling that woke me every morning when I’d slept poorly. It was an empty threat; I loved Miz too much to hurt him. Besides some days she was the only thing keeping his sanity patched together when Tor and I couldn’t reach him.
I rubbed my eyes and wondered if I was hallucinating the disturbance. Maybe the role of Death had finally driven me to madness. Or perhaps insomnia and exhaustion had. But I could still feel it—the tremor, the thrum, the alarm.
Something was happening right now, in another place, far above. And for some unfathomable reason its thread reached all the way here, into the domain of the death gods.
I rose from the padded window seat, sending my magic out through the world, searching, searching—and paused.
Upstairs, Misery’s prairie dog was yahooing again, but at the end of the tether someone was screaming. Multiple people.
And many were going to die.
CHAPTER SEVEN
CAT
Iwas up to seven fuckboys thwarted, but the last one was kinda hot in a Cillian Murphy way so I’d taken his number. I wasn’t going to call him, but he didn’t need to know that.1
Honey was chatting up Mr Broad Shoulders 2024, so I found a spot against the living room wall to lean and people watch. Dylan Ford was the centre of attention, naturally. With his good looks and excessive money, he had both men and women clinging to him, throwing seductive smiles in an attempt to hook a future billionaire. I couldn’t blame them. He was a powerful ally to have at Ford’s End Medical School for Stuck Up Twats, Alarmingly Social Best Friends, and Introverts Who’d Rather Be In The Local Animal Shelter Than At A Frat Party.2
Better a friend than an enemy, anyway. I shouldn’t have spoken up with the Fords earlier, but I couldn’t bring myself to regret it either. I was tired of being walked all over by powerful men from powerful families. I just hoped I hadn’t made myself a target—or worse, made Honey and By targets by association.
I sipped from a red cup of fruity vodka and fuck knows what else—the beer ran out an hour ago—and kept an eye on Honey and Alastor. He seemed okay, but didn’t all creeps seem okay at first? I glanced away when they decided to stick their tongues down each other’s throats on the sofa. Good for Honey. I was bored.
