Sekhor was an ancient word for vampire. While Vivien was a bloodsucker, she only had fangs for Grim.
My brain bounced like a strung out, hyper child, waiting for him to tell me why I was here. Again, my eyes fell on his bare feet. So wrong.
I put the glass back down, realizing I’d drained half the glass in one go.
This time Grim caught me staring and looked up at me, as if he was trying to gauge my thoughts. I quickly averted my gaze to his face.
“Yeah, we vibe.” My knee began to bounce.
Why wasn’t he getting to the point?
Vivien was already a vampire when I met her, and I may have tried to kill her at one point. She suffered from amnesia, having no idea who’d bitten her or who she was. She may have forgotten her name, but no amount of amnesia could downplay her wild, antagonist, and playful personality. She’d been put through the wringer when it came to immortals' business, and after a flood of humans were turned, she was the one dealing with the mess of newly minted bloodsuckers who didn’t understand what had happened to them or what it meant.
It was also part of the deal Vivien made with the god Osiris. While Grim took care of the souls of the dead, Vivien shepherded the new vamps as the master vampire. She could control their will and keep them from harming anyone and help them through their transition.
“Right,” Grim said, acknowledging mine and Vivien’s close tie while setting his drink down as well. “I’m being obtuse. This can all be quite quick and over with.” He stood abruptly. “You are the caretaker of the blade of bane. The only one who can wield it, correct?”
The sword lay on the couch next to me. My fingers rested on the hilt, as if needing to assure myself it was there. “Yes.”
A jolt of warmth shot through my fingers and up my arm. The sword was like a living thing, humming with a subtle power that fused with me. I caressed the sleek, gold-inlaid hilt reverently, feeling its weight and balance. It felt like an extension of me, like an extra arm at times, and I knew it was meant for me and me alone.
Though I didn’t really kill a god with it, so much as she threw herself on the sword’s edge, not wanting to live anymore. It didn’t feel right assisting her suicide like that. If I’d been faster or cleverer, I would have seen it coming and prevented the goddess Bast from ending her life.
Grim stopped in the middle of the room, hands folded behind his back. “I have a formal request of you as the blade’s keeper.”
“For cripes sake, would you spit it out already? I’m a big girl.”
My hand clapped over my mouth as soon as the words escaped me.
Grim’s golden brown eyes widened in surprise.
I couldn’t believe I just mouthed off to the Grim Reaper. Not that I thought he would kill me. Or maybe a small part of me was all too aware that was a possibility.
I covered my eyes for a moment. “I’m just saying, you don’t need to pussyfoot around me.”
Grim unsuccessfully tried to suppress an amused smile. “You’re right.” Then he turned serious again and finally came right out with it. “I need you to kill a god for me.”
Before I could even process that, he looked down at his feet before meeting my gaze with uncertainty. “And is there something wrong with my feet?”
ChapterThree
THE BADASS
Iartfully dodged the question about Grim Reaper’s feet because thankfully there was a bigger topic at hand. Despite him being the god of the dead, Grim was one of the last people I’d expect to ask me to assassinate someone. When I asked for more information, he said it was better we take a short trip to further elaborate on the situation.
Whatever that meant.
My breath hitched in my throat, an eyebrow arching involuntarily when we got on his private elevator and a black button appeared below the column of three buttons like magic. Notlikemagic. It was magic. And I still wasn’t totally used to it.
I’d released a small sigh of relief when I noticed he was now wearing slippers. For some bizarre reason, that made me feel a bit better, as if a modicum of order had been restored to my world.
Wherever we were going, it was a place below the chamber of judgement where Grim either led souls to the afterlife or fed the corrupt hearts to a giant crocodile god named Amit. I hadn’t been to that level below the hotel, but Vivien had told me all about how it was like stepping into a pyramid chamber in ancient Egypt.
The doors of the elevator slid open with a ding that reverberated in the eerie stillness, putting me on edge. As soon as the doors parted, I felt an intense surge of energy. It was like a live current of electricity had replaced the air down here and enveloped me, making my skin feel raw and overstimulated.
A prickling sensation ran up my spine, cold beads of sweat forming on my forehead. I involuntarily shrank back, every instinct screaming for an escape route from the pulsating power. Ghostly hands formed of pain and sickness traced patterns across my skin.
Grim gave me a concerned sideways glance. “Are you alright? It can be a lot for a human to be this close.”
