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“That’s whattheysaid, too,” I sneer, grabbing a pillow and putting it over my body.
His eyes darken, and he shakes his head sadly. “What happened to you?”
“You should know! You’re one of them,” I sob. Tears blur my vision, and I groan as a wave of nausea slams into me, weeks of relief taking vengeance on me now.
“A fae? I’m not a bloody fae,” he snaps, crossing both arms.
“You disappear like they do!”
“A bloody fae. You truly think I’m a bloody fae?” he demands.
“What the hell else am I supposed to think?”
Sullivan sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m a reaper.”
“Reaper?” I straighten. He can’t be serious. “As inDeath?”
He shrugs. “One of them. We have quite a few different names. Reaper, Death, Angel of Death—it goes on and on.” I don’t even know how the hell to respond to that one.
I mean, why the hell am I surprised that I went on a date with Death? It’s quite ironic.
“I don’t understand why you’re here. Was it coincidence that you picked me up from the airport?”
He shakes his head. “Unfortunately not.”
“And our dinner?”
“Most pleasurable,” he replies with a boyish grin. “But a way for me to get to know you."
"Why? So you could kill me?”
Sullivan uncrosses his arms, his furrowed brow making him appear to be genuinely irritated by my hypothesis.
“That is a common myth, a ridiculous one at that. We do not kill. We simply collect souls—mainly human—though we do dabble in supernaturals who have been trapped in one world for too long. Once we have them, we transport them to where they go.”
“And I’m dying.”
He purses his lips and leans forward. “The easy answer to that is yes.”
“And the hard answer?”
“Your soul doesn’t read like normal. Which iswhyI took you to dinner.”
So my thinking an attractive man was into me? HAH.“What the hell do you mean it doesn’t read like normal?”
“I have no clue,” he admits. “It’s something I’ve been looking into since you disappeared, but so far, I have nothing. You just don’t read like a human.”
Why the hell am I so surprised? Nothing about my life is easy. Nothing goes the way it’s supposed to. “Gah!” I collapse in on myself as my stomach churns. A wave of heat washes over me, and sweat beads on my skin.
“What can I get you?” Sullivan is frantic at my side. I don’t even have time to pull back before he’s pressing his wrist to my forehead. “Shit, you’re burning up.”
“Cool. Cloth,” I choke out.
“On it.”
He’s gone, and I suck in a breath. My chest burns. My head is pounding, and I’m pretty fucking sure how I’m reading isn’t going to matter soon. Because I can feel it coming.
I’m dying.
Rafferty’s face swims into my memory. His frantic attempt to cross the distance between us. His eyes had been wild—crazed—and the last moment he saw me, I screamed for him. What a damn exit.
I can only imagine what he’s thinking right now. What he’s worried about. And it almost became reality. Would have in mere seconds had Sullivan not shown up when he did.
Rescued by death. It would be laughable if I could feel anything but pain at the moment.
Something cool presses against my forehead, and I open my eyes. Sullivan hovers above me, his expression dark. “I don’t think this is going to work. This isn’t going to be enough.” His arms slip under mine, and I buck, trying to get away. “Easy, Ember,” he orders. “I’ll keep you safe.”
