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He’s otherworldly and absolutely serious about what he’s here to do to me.
Adrenaline races through my veins, energizing me with the near panic of fight or flight. Fight! I have to fight. If I run, he’ll get me and I’ll lose any chance I might have of bartering for my survival.
Oh, yes you are making a deal with me, I think as I look up at him.
Reaping? Time of death? I’m not getting reaped today, tomorrow, or any time soon. He may not have wanted it, but we have a deal now and I’m going to use it to prolong my life until he gets sick of me and goes to find someone else to suck the life out of.
“Too late. You can’t go back on a handshake. It’s a rule.” That’s what my dad always said. It sounds ridiculously lame, but I go with it.
“I did not—”
“Yes, you did. You shook on it. See?”
I slowly pump his hand up and down to prove my point. He looks at our joined hands, then back to my face. His eyes glimmer with preternatural light, as if he’s going to change appearances again. My heart jumps and I shake his hand harder, but he pulls away with a grunt and wipes his hand on his cloak.
My eyes track the movement of his hands, white and slender, moving over the midnight robes. The way he moves has a seductive quality. Frowning at my sudden and disturbing train of thought, I try to look away but can’t. What would it feel like to have those inhuman hands running over my heated flesh?
“I do not understand the meaning of this thing with the hands.” His statement yanks me out of my filthy thoughts.
Pressing against the exterior wall of the bakery, I palm the cool, rough bricks to further distract me from how unnaturally sexy he is. I shouldn’t be attracted to him, I know. He’s the embodiment of death and he wants to reap me, but there’s something about his eyes and hands that draw me in even though his gaze is deadly and he’s got this skeletal look to him.
My voice shakes as I force it out of my dry throat. “Once you shake on something, it means you give your word. If you go back on your word, then you have no honor.”
His eyelids flutter as if attempting a disjointed blink. “Honor?”
“Yes. It means that you’re a good person and you do what you say you’re going to do.”
He doesn’t look swayed in the least.Come on, Morgan, think! I’m sure he doesn’t give a shit about honor!
How the hell do you bargain with a Grim Reaper?
I have to word things exactly right because if I get it wrong, I’m dead. No more sweet vanilla lattes. No more candy canes or Christmas carols. No more holding out for hope that next season will be better than the last, or that maybe, just maybe, I’ll find the one I’ve been longing for.
My eyes go wide as a thought hits me.
“You have to date me for one week!” I blurt, scrambling for the next words. “If I… if I—” Shit! I don’t know what to say. I’ve never had to barter for my life before. Luckily, something comes to mind in a rush and spills out of my mouth. “I-if I make you fall in love with me, you can’t reap me until I’m seventy-nine!”
Seventy-nine is good. That’s a solid chunk of time to carve out a well-lived life. And if I’m not married by then, there’s probably no hope for me anyway.
His expression skews, his sharp gaze narrowing on me. I’m doubtful that he understands me, but this is all I have to work with.
Grimm, as I’ve decided to call him, clasps his hands in front of him and regards me with clear impatience. “No.”
“Why no?” I bark.
“Things do not work that way, human.”
I’m not sure I get what he means. If he wasn’t supposed to make a deal, he shouldn’t have offered one in the first place. That was his mistake, not mine.
“You shook my hand promising to do anything to make the transition easier. Well, this makes it easier.” I cross my arms and don’t back down.
My lips curve into the tiniest smile when he grumbles something under his breath. It seems I may have struck a nerve or something, so I press him further.
“You said that you’re incapable of lying, right?”
“That is… mostly correct. We can distort the truth if the situation allows.”
“So then you have to follow through on our deal, and if youdofall in love with me you’d be compelled to tell me the truth about it.” I can’t see any reason as to why he would need to distort the truth about this, so for the time being, my logic is as sound as it’s going to be.
