Page 58 of Truth Revealed

He framed her face with his hands and pulled her back, lips twitching. “What was that?”

Instead of repeating herself, Daria leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. His soft gasp was swallowed, and it made butterflies take flight in her chest. Amongst all the chaos surrounding them, she could surprise Death.

Everything faded away around them as she parted her lips to skim against his. Truth’s soft voice calling out instructions to the others, Persy’s high-pitched, worried tone. Even the footsteps as they rushed to do as told.

There was no dramatic meeting of tongues, no overtly enthusiastic sounds caught in the kiss. Just gentle caresses of their lips against one another. His lips were soft, but the hair framing his mouth brushed her cheeks. Tilting her head, she tried a new angle, and his long, dark hair fell from behind his ear to mix with hers. With every brush of his petal soft lips against her own, the residual adrenaline faded away and would have left her cold if not for Death’s arms around her.

A soft, contented sigh ended their kiss, and Daria pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth.

“I said I’m glad you’re okay,” Daria repeated with a coy smile.

The smile he turned on her reached his eyes, lightening the deep violet just enough so she could separate the iris from the pupil.

“I’m glad I am too, if it means I can do that again.”

Daria blushed after something as simple as a kiss, and wanted to roll her eyes at herself.

“But later,” he promised, another soft brush of his lips sealing the deal. “For now, we need to get Pain patched up and find somewhere to stay.”

Daria’s stomach flipped over. “What do you mean, find somewhere to stay?”

Glancing at the couch, Death’s gaze darkened once more. It made Daria want to kiss him again just to see the color change.

“Well, it’s kind of trashed here, and Pandora for sure knows where we live now. We can’t rest here easily.”

“No,” Daria argued. “We’re not leaving. This is our home and she is not going to be the reason we leave.”

“But, Daria… we’re sitting ducks if we stay here,” he pointed out.

“Not necessarily,” she countered, eyes lighting up. “I know just who to call.”

“What do you mean call?” Death asked skeptically.

Her form of an answer was to tilt her face to the ceiling and call out one name.

“Chaos!”

Chaos appeared in a puff of golden smoke, and once the fog cleared, the look on his face was comical.

A brightly colored fuchsia and coral Hawaiian shirt was paired with a fancy suit jacket and pants, but most noticeable was the instant fury that darkened his hazel eyes as he observed the room.

“She didn’t,” he hissed, eyes darting from the broken couch to the shattered end table and lamps.

Daria frowned, but brushed off her confusion. “We need you to ward the house,” she stated.

Death’s eyebrows shot sky-high before a slow grin curled his lips in understanding. That tiny bit of approval lit Daria up from the inside out. She preened while still studying her father.

If Pandora could ward a house, and Chaos was the one to give her that ability, it only made sense that Chaos could do the same thing.

“She attacked you here?” he questioned, his brows furrowed and a frown on his lips. The seriousness in his tone made her pause. Why would he be surprised? He was the one who’d told Daria how ruthless Pandora was.

“She wrecked the house that I picked out for you?” Anger colored the tone of his voice.

Wait.

“Uhm, I think I picked out this house—”

“From the list that I compiled,” he argued, stepping forward and shoving his dress shoe wearing foot into the debris of a lamp. The porcelain crunched under his heel, and Daria winced at the sound.