Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Zinnia

We stopped for a quick lunch, but other than that, we'd ridden hard all day. Night was falling, and the air had chilled. I rubbed my arms as Zuri slowed, following her mate's cues, then stopped in a clearing in the middle of nowhere. Howls and cries echoed in the distance, lifting the hair on the back of my neck. I slid down off Zuri, managing to stay upright all on my own this time, and pulled my knife free as I scanned our surroundings.

"We're getting close to the gateway," Death said.

"Are those sounds coming from the Outer Realm?"

He shook his head. "Occasionally, creatures—demons—get through."

"Is that how Egon came to be here?"

"Yes. There's no real way to stop them. Egon regularly takes out a hunting party and culls the more dangerous breeds."

"Do I need to be worried? Will they hunt us?" Our little cave last night had been like a five-star accommodation, because, looking around now, there was nothing here, no cave, no cabin, no place to hide.

"It depends on the creature. While some will sense me and stay away, others will see me being here as a challenge."

"Why the hell would they think that?"

"They are Nox's followers. She won't want me in her realm, and she'll try and prevent it."

I turned fully to face him. "Your mother doesn't like you?"

"Nox hates me and my brother," he said and pressed his hand to one of the largest trees near us, looking up.

"Why?"

He tilted his head back, and his eyes rolled back as he muttered under his breath. A ladder rolled down from nowhere. "Up you go. I'll take care of Zuri and Raze," he said and waited for me to jump to it.

"I don't need you to protect me, you know? I'm not the kind of witch to hide while danger lurks beneath me—" He hooked a strong arm around my waist and all but tossed me halfway up the rope ladder. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Saving time," he said and turned away to take care of our mounts.

So goddamn arrogant. I spun away and climbed up the rest of the way. It was a tree house, kind of like the one Magnolia lived in with her crow-shifter mate, Bram, but not as big. The room was a large circle, with soft clay-colored walls and an open fire in the middle, already going, the flue disappearing up through the peaked roof. A bed was to one side, shaped to fit the wall, and there was a low table on the other side with cushions around it and more along the wall to sit on. Everything was bright jewel colors, and the place had a warm and cozy feel.

I found it hard to believe Death just came up with this out of thin air.

He popped up through the floor, pulled the ladder up after him, and the hole in the floor vanished, sealing us in. "No escape, huh?"

"No way for a demon to get in while we sleep," he said.

"And what if I need to pee?"

He motioned to a doorway with a colorful piece of fabric hanging over it.

Awesome, he'd be able to hear me. "The demons can't actually hurt you, though, right?"

"The closer we get to the gateway, the more I can feel my powers weakening." He turned to the low table, and this time, he needed more than a look to make food appear; he closed his eyes and held his hand above it.

His mother wanted him powerless when he was in her realm or close to it. Didn't she sound just lovely.

We sat on the ground on cushions, and I loaded up my plate with rice and beans and lamb. I took a sip of my wine. "This looks amazing. If you can do this, why have Egon cook?"

"He likes to do it."

"Take care of you?"

"Yes."

Death cared about Egon, considered his feelings, wanted him to be happy. "He's your friend."

He grunted and stabbed a piece of meat and put it in his mouth, and as soon as he'd swallowed it, his gaze came back to me. "Why wouldn't you kill me if you had the means?" he asked, picking up the same line of questioning from the night before.

I'd really been hoping he'd forget about that, but the male had the memory of an elephant. There was no reason to lie. "I don't hate you. I never really did. When I was younger, I was scared, so I hid from you. But I figure, you didn't specifically choose me to be your consort, and this whole… thing, whatever this is"—I glanced between us—"was out of your control as well. So how can I hate you for it?"

The muscle in his jaw jumped, but he said nothing.

I took another sip of my wine. "My turn." I could ask what exactly this thing was. He demanded I be here in Limbo with him, but I had no idea why. I didn't think asking that right now was a great idea, though. "What's with this place?" I asked instead, deciding to appease my curiosity.

"What do you mean?"

"I live in your castle. This place is the complete opposite of that. This is not you."

"No, it's not me, but it was the first thing that came to mind, so I recreated it."

"Recreated? Who lived here before?"

"You asked your question, and I answered it," he said and carried on eating.

I studied him. "It belonged to one of your consorts, didn't it?"

He said nothing.

Which meant, why yes, yes, it did. "So what was this place? Did she build it here in Limbo? Or was it something she lived in before she became your consort, and if so, how do you know what it looked like?"

Still, he said nothing, and then a thought occurred to me: was this where they spent quiet time together? Like a night away from the castle, just the two of them… the Limbo equivalent of a dirty weekend?

A weird feeling swirled in my belly, and without my say-so, my eyes slid to the opulent bed, big and draped in soft, richly colored fabrics. I swallowed audibly in the utter silence that had engulfed the room. I was right. Somehow, I knew I was right. I mean, the bathroom didn't even have a proper door. This place was for people who had no boundaries, no inhibitions, and were completely at ease around each other.

I turned back to Death and noticed he was watching me closely.

Clearing my throat, because it felt impossibly tight all of a sudden, I carried on eating, but Death didn't look away from me, not once. If anything, he grew more intense, and the energy he was throwing off was filling the room. Goddess, goose bumps had lifted all over me. I licked my lips nervously.

Death made a low sound that shot right through me, and I took a swig of my wine.

"So what time will we reach the gate tomorrow?" I said because the silence, the tension, felt like a rope pulled taut and about to break at any moment.

He snapped out of whatever this was and unfroze, the tension dialing way down. "If we leave early, we should be there before midday."

I nodded. "I'll need to prepare before we leave. If there's a chance I'll be fighting, I need my magic at full power, and an extra boost would be a good idea as well. I'm not ready to die quite yet."

"You can have as much time as you need," he said. "Do you need to perform a spell or some kind of ritual?"

Whenever he talked to me like this, no deals or bartering or demands, like he could be anyone, just your average Joe asking questions—well, except for that voice—I was always taken aback, but I knew better than to let my guard down. Not with how fast his moods shifted. "Yeah, a simple ritual. I'll use blood to increase my power."

"Do you want me to kill something for you?" he asked in his destroyer's voice, but somehow, it came out like crushed velvet.

It slid over my skin, and I barely suppressed my shiver. Jesus, the way he said it, so intimate, as if he were whispering dirty things in the dark.

This was a different version of Death, again. This transformation hadn't been slow and steady; no, he just seemed to have suddenly changed when I came back, and every day that passed, this new side of him was making an appearance more and more. He was giving me more "human" vibes and less of the vengeful God of Death. Though that was still there as well, it just wasn't all he was now. He was… more.

I cleared my throat again. "Ah… no, thank you. That won't be necessary. I'll use my own blood."

His gaze shot up from his food. "No," he said so loud, I jumped.

I frowned at him. "I'm a blood witch, you must know that?" I held up my hand and showed him my scarred palm. "How do you think I got this? I mean, when I first came here, I was covered in my own blood, so this can't be a surprise to you."

"You are not to cut yourself, not anymore," he said, his eyes darkening, burning into me.

I stared at him, not backing down despite the tremble in my belly and the way the hair on the back of my neck stood up. "Cutting and magic go hand in hand in my coven. It gives us strength and increases our power. It's what we do, and it's who we are," I fired back at him.

His fingers curled into a tight fist. "You test me, consort. You push me at every turn, but I will not concede to you on this. You will not win."

What I wanted to do was scream in his face, just release all the rage and fear I was feeling in that moment, but somehow, I knew that would be the absolute wrong thing to do. Instead, I forced it down, and then I reached out and covered his clenched fist with my hand. It was rough, his skin scarred and hot. Power sparked from him to me, and it was hard to keep holding on, to keep my breathing even, but I didn't let go and made myself look deep into his eyes so he'd see the truth of my words as I said them. "If you take this from me, you may as well kill me now. This is not a battle for you to win or lose. Without my magic, I am nothing. I don't exist. I won't be Zinnia Thornheart anymore. Without my magic, I won't be me, and that's not something I ever want to face." I shook my head. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. I've accepted that this is my life now—what's left of it, anyway—but you have already ripped me from the people I love most in this world, and you need to know that I won't let you take this from me. Whatever the cost, I won't let you take this from me as well."

The hand under mine was pulled away, and then it shot out, curling around the side of my throat, not tight, similar to the way he'd held it outside the castle before we left. Then his hand slid higher, his long, thick fingers sinking into my hair, shocking me. "Always so fucking stubborn," he rasped.

I stayed completely still, breathless, as his thumb touched my chin. His gaze dipped; he was no longer looking into my eyes but watching what he was doing as he slowly slid his thumb higher, his rough skin scraping mine, until the very tip brushed the bottom of my lower lip. His gaze was focused on that connection and nothing else.

A shaky breath punched out of me at the look on his face while he touched me.

He blinked, as if knocked from wherever he'd just gone, and looked up at me. "You may practice your magic then. Stubborn little witch." Then he finally released me.

I sank back in my seat as if I'd been unplugged from an electrical socket, my body still buzzing and my heart pounding.

Death strode across the room. The trapdoor reappeared, and he kicked the ladder back down and jumped to the ground after it.

I took another shaky breath and tried to get my heart back under control.

* * *

She turned in strong arms, sliding her hands over wide shoulders.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Aster?"

"Yes," she whispered.

Firelight danced over his bare skin, making the tattoos on his flesh come alive. She trailed her hands up his stomach and over his chest. They were slender, beautiful hands. He rolled her to her back, his long, thick fingers curling around her throat. "My precious Stella."

She wrapped her legs around him, and he slammed inside her—

My eyes flew open, my body hot and coated in a fine layer of sweat. The room was warm, too warm, and I blinked up at the ceiling. A vision, not a dream.

Aster.

She'd been with Death in this tree house, and she may or may not be the female I'd dreamed about the previous night. Why were they showing me these things? If I could use my medium power to its full potential here, I could call them to me and ask what they wanted.

Was it a warning of some kind? Had Death killed them? Was that what they were trying to tell me? Not to get close to him, not to let him in, or I'd end up the same?

It was still night; I could tell by the sounds the insects made outside. Pushing myself up, I shoved back the covers, then bit my lip. Death had come back sometime while I'd been asleep. He'd arranged himself on the larger cushions. His upper body was kind of propped up; one hand was behind his head, and the other, resting on his abs. With his arm back like that, I could see the tattoo that ran all the way down the back of it more clearly. He had two of them, another identical one on the other arm. Inverted torches. The death of the flesh, and the eternal life of the soul—that's what they meant. The one I could see was beautiful, flames licking down his forearm to his wrist.

It looked so real, like if you reached out and touched it, you'd feel cold steel or the heat of the flames.

My gaze slid over the rest of him. He looked the same as he did in my vision: his skin, golden in the firelight, the dancing flames moving over the dips and valleys of his muscled body, the way his tattoos almost looked alive in the dim light.

He was devastatingly beautiful.

Something in my lower belly tightened, and I bit my lip again. I didn't want to be attracted to him, especially now, when I thought about what those visions could mean, but I guessed it was inevitable, right? He was essentially my mate; an attraction; whether you wanted there to be one or not, was part and parcel with that whole thing. A higher power had brought us together; fate had chosen me for him, and him for me. The only difference here was, Death could have more than one consort in his lifetime.

What happened if I didn't die an untimely death? Would the consorts keep coming? Would I end up the head sister wife of Death's polygamist family? His hand slid lower, and he groaned in his sleep. I slammed my legs together when unwanted lust, caused by that sound, zipped right through my belly and landed between my legs. Shit.

My gaze trailed back up his body, over his square jaw and that strong nose, to his dark lashes resting on his cheeks. The male had perfect bone structure, but then he was a god, so what did I expect—

His eyes opened, locking on mine.

My heart thumped against my ribs. "I just… I woke, and you… you were snoring," I blurted, lying through my teeth while my face went up in flames. "Keep it down," I snapped and rolled over so I was facing the wall and could hide my humiliation.

Silence rang out for several stunned seconds, and then I thought—though I had to be wrong—I heard a low laugh before the room went silent again.