Death Walks With Love Page 2

  “I’ve learned in my life that the things that scare us the most are more likely to save us, than those things that don’t.” I place my hand over his wanting to comfort him, my pale skin almost transparent against his dark. Who’d have ever thought that I’d be offering solace to Death? Yet, I don’t feel any fear or hesitation at touching him, it’s surprisingly natural. He raises his eyes to mine before bringing my hand up and kissing the back of it, setting it back down in his lap.

  “So, what happens now?”

  His smile is bright and full of mischief when he answers, “Now, we get ready for Christmas!”

  Chapter 4

  Christmas with Death and his household started off with a fight. As soon as we told Cora that Martin wanted to decorate the house for Christmas, she bounced around the room and left in a hurry. Seconds later, a crash came from the front entryway and we ran to see what had happened. The front door is wide open, and snow is blowing around in a flurry.

  “CORA!” Martin yells, his voice practically shaking the house down. I swear I see a few of the statues along the molding cringe before going back to their regular expressions.

  A wisp of shadow flies through the front door before solidifying into the visage of Cora. Instead of the traditional butler’s uniform that she’d been wearing before, she is now in a red vest with glaringly bright green spandex pants. The shirt under the vest is covered in small silver bells in the well-known reaper design with a candy cane for a scythe and reindeer antlers on his head. Though I was surprised at her entrance, I snort giggle at her attire while watching Martin’s skin go almost black while his cheeks and eyes bulge.

  “Yes, Master?” Cora asks innocently with snow still wafting in through the door behind her, albeit not as wildly as before.

  Martin tips his head back and takes a deep breath before asking in a calmly controlled tone, “What are you doing?”

  Cora gives him a confused look before replying, “Decorating.” She looks at me as if asking for my help.

  Clearing my throat of the last of my giggles, I place my hand on Martin’s arm and step between them. Martin grumbles under his breath behind me while I try to reason with Cora, “Cora, why are you decorating with snow? It will melt before Christmas.”

  “Not if we get rid of all the heat,” she informs me.

  “True, but then I won’t be able to stay here,” I remind her, thinking quickly. Her mouth drops open and she starts waving her arms around. The snow that has built up inside starts to swirl and twist before flying out the door, shutting it when the last flake is outside. Her shoulders and head drooping, Cora apologizes with her hands behind her back. She looks so forlorn that I can’t help but reassure her.

  “It’s okay Cora, you just got excited. Let’s see what we can do to decorate together, alright?” Her head snaps up and her face is covered in an inhumanly wide smile. Suppressing my shudder at the sight, I smile back.

  Finally calmed down, Martin sighs before saying, “I’ll leave the decorating to you two. Have fun.” Grabbing my hand, he kisses the back of it before turning and walking away.

  “Wait!” I yell at his back, “How do we get decorations?”

  He stops with his foot still raised; his hand outstretched for the front door handle. I can see his body wince at the near escape he almost made. I cross my arms over my chest as he slowly turns around, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

  “I have no idea, but I’m sure you two can figure it out, right?” He sounds so hopeful, I’m almost sorry to burst his bubble.

  “How are we supposed to do that when I don’t know anything about this place and Cora has never decorated before?” My lips twitch when he visibly deflates in defeat. Men, no matter what species or creatures they are they all make things so dramatic. You’d think that I had just stolen his favorite toy.

  Cora walks up to him and pats him on the arm before saying happily, “Don’t worry Master, I’m sure with all of us working together we can figure it out.” I snort at the look of horror on his face but quickly clear my expression when they both look at me.

  I nod and clap my hands together, “Alright, let’s all go to the dining room to plan.” I turn, loving the feeling of the dress’s skirt twirling around my legs, and march towards the door I’d gone through just a few hours ago. Has it only been a few hours? I already feel like I’ve been here my whole life, which is strange since I’ve never felt like I belonged anywhere. From the time I was born, I’ve been shuffled from house to house, finally running away just before my eighteenth birthday. That’s when Death found me, cold and shivering as I ran from another abusive home.

  When I open the door to the dining room, Hannah is sitting in the middle of the table washing her paws. Still unsure of how to react to the fact that she used to be a person, I sit down gingerly before saying hello to her.

  “Hello lovey, how are you doing with all this?” Her words are kind but hold an edge of mockery. I clear my throat, a little disconcerted that she can talk but it’s nothing to everything else I’ve learned since being here. Who would have thought that the least amazing thing I’ve encountered is a talking cat?

  “I’m doing very well actually, thank you for asking,” I say politely. I’ve always held with drowning my critics in sweetness until they choke. She stops washing her paw to look at me, her pink tongue barely visible and my smile deepens. No matter if she used to be a person or not, she really is a cat now with all their characteristics.

  Martin and Cora walk in, him taking the same seat he’d had earlier and her standing in front of the fireplace. Feeling a touch of deja vu, I shake the feeling away and ask, “Do you have internet here? We can order things.” All three look at me blankly. Well, that’s not going to work. “Okay, how do you get things?”

  Cora raises her hand and jumps up and down, her grey streaked hair bobbing with her. Smiling I nod at her and she says in a rush, “The Gnomes bring it.” She smiles excitedly, having known the answer to the question. Cora’s excited innocence at the smallest things is refreshing and makes me feel more relaxed than I probably should.

  “Can I get something to write with so we can make a list for the Gnomes?” I almost stutter when I say Gnomes. Normal has truly left my field of reality. But then, who wants normal anyway? Cora hands me a piece of parchment paper and a quill, setting an inkwell on the table. Looking at the three writing instruments I shake my head, feeling like I’m in a monastery or some other old-world time. With all the gothic decor and now this, I just might be.

  “How does time work here anyway?” I ask as I dip the quill into the ink and start writing my list. The scratching sound as I write is surprisingly soothing rather than grating like I thought it would be.

  “The same as earth time. It makes it easier to collect the souls for processing,” Martin explains as he sulks in his chair. I can feel his eyes on me but every time I look up, he’s looking at his hands. Frowning, I look down at my list one more time to be sure I got everything.

  Garlands

  Holly

  Ornaments

  Popcorn

  It’s a pretty short list. My brow crinkles as I think of what else we will need to decorate, and I feel a presence next to me. Glancing over I’m met with the view of Martin’s dress slack encased crotch. I jerk my head back in surprise and he looks at me questioningly. My face starts to heat, and I look back at my list, not wanting to explain my reaction.

  “It’s rather short isn’t it?” Martin asks. I nod, grateful that he didn’t mention my red face.

  “Martin, you’re embarrassing the poor girl! Don’t worry love, I think it’s just the right amount of stuff,” Cora says reassuringly. I swallow hard, wanting to bury my head in my hands and groan but I hold back. That kind of response would just make things worse.

  “I’m sorry Josephyn, it was not my intention to make you uncomfortable. As Cora said, it is the perfect amount.” Martin pats my shoulder awkwardly. My face is getting redder and my throat is closing up. A snicker comes from in front of me and I look up to see Hannah watching me with an amused expression on her furred face. I don’t know how she manages to get human mannerisms to show so clearly on a feline face, but she’s rather good at it.

  A childish urge overtakes me, and I stick my tongue out at her. Hannah starts chortling, sounding like she’s trying to hack up a hairball. Both Martin and Cora look at her in surprise before turning to me with identical eyebrows raised. I shrug my shoulders, acting like I don’t have any idea what’s wrong with her, and try to bring the subject back to my list.

  “So, how long do you think it will take them to get this to us? And do you have an ax? I’d like to cut down our tree ourselves.” I’ve always wanted to cut down my own tree but never had the opportunity until now. I figure that if they’re all ok with me playing house, I should take it as far as I can before I have to leave. The thought of this ending makes me sad, but I shake it off. Everything ends eventually, especially those things that you want the most.

  “It shouldn’t take them long at all! We’ll have this place spiffed up in no time,” Cora says with a giddy twinkle in her eye. Out of nowhere I yawn, covering my mouth with the back of my hand.

  “I think that’s enough for today. Come, I will escort you back to your room,” Martin holds his arm out like an old-fashioned gentleman, and I smile. Laying my hand on his arm I use him to lift myself up, noticing with interest that he doesn’t flinch or shift with my weight. Nodding to Cora and Hannah, he guides me out of the room while I wave at them behind me.

  Chapter 5

  With all that’s happened in my life, I’m surprised and a little unnerved by how comfortable and safe I feel with Martin next to me. I’ve mostly accepted that there are things I can’t explain, seeing ghosts and spirits all my life helps a bit I suppose. Still, it’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that not only am I being escorted by a man who claims he’s Death, but I also find myself becoming attracted to him. His calm and quiet manner coupled with his accepting aura soothes my soul in a way that I’ve never experienced before. His reactions to everything have been open and honest, a welcome relief from the suspicion and secrecy I’ve witnessed from others.

  At my door, he stops and rests his hand over mine still laying on his arm. The look on his face says that he wants to say something so I wait patiently, gazing into his eyes. Even with their unusual color, they are beautiful. Rather than with a person’s eyes, I don’t see my reflection, instead, I see him. Every feeling he’s experiencing is plainly visible and I can’t help but respond to what I see there. Hope, uncertainty, and something warm that I’m not ready to identify, but still makes my heart quicken.

  “I must apologize again for the way you were introduced to our world. I never meant to surprise or scare you; my only purpose is to help you as you help us to integrate ourselves more openly into human society,” Martin says as his hand slowly pets mine. The candlelight plays softly over his features, emphasizing his strong jaw and full lips.

  Without thinking I place my other hand on his cheek, feeling the prickles of his beard rub along my palm. His eyes widen at my touch, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans into it, tilting his head and sighing before turning to place a gentle kiss on my palm. The gesture is so sweet that my breath hitches in my chest, coming out in a small rush of air. Reaching up, he cups my hand in his and brings it down to rest on his arm with my other hand. It feels like time has stopped and the world is fading away. There’s only the two of us here in the gently lit darkness.

  Reality snaps me back when he clears his throat uncomfortably and says, “It’s late and you must be tired. I will leave you here and see you in the morning.” Taking a step back, he bows before swiftly retreating back the way we’d come.

  Standing alone in the hallway, I’m struck dumb for a split second before I open my door and start berating myself for my forwardness. Just because I find him attractive and think I saw something there, doesn’t mean anything. It’s not like I haven’t experienced delusions of desire before. I frown as I slip the dress over my head, leaving me in nothing but my threadbare bra.

  Looking down, I sigh at the pitiful state I’m in. Going without decent food for so long has left me almost skeletal, I can see every rib going down my chest. Even my breasts have suffered, becoming smaller than they were at the group home. At least there I got three meals a day and was able to stay at a marginally healthy weight. Huffing out a depressed sigh I fall onto the bed. There’s no way that he’d be interested in a stick like me.

  An idea pops into my head and I grin slyly, letting go of my depressive train of thought. Just because he’s not interested doesn’t mean I can’t use him to get rid of some of this energy. Looking around, I find my undershirt still lying on the bed where I’d thrown it before going down to dinner. Grabbing it up, I lay back and close my eyes, imagining Martin’s hand is mine as I wet a fingertip and rub it along my nipple. My breath hitches as he lowers his head to take me into his mouth and I thrust my chest up. I take the shirt in my hand and slowly rub my clit, picturing his hand between my legs as he bites and licks my nipples. Using two fingers, I slowly start circling my opening, letting the tips barely brush inside.

  I moan loudly, unaware that the door to my room has opened and that the person I’m picturing in my head is watching me pleasure myself as he stands there frozen.

  I open my legs wider, unaware that I’m exposing myself to his eyes while I insert first one finger then another into my opening, circling and thrusting as I move the shirt over my clit with each stroke. My nipples are hard and red from pinching and squeezing them, thinking of Martin’s mouth there.

  “Martin,” I gasp as I get closer to my orgasm. It must have snapped him into action because I’m jolted out of my fantasy by a door slamming shut close by. Looking around I don’t see anything and shrug before laying back down. I continue to bring myself to completion while imagining Martin licking and fingering me. I come with a sigh and climb under the covers, slowly drifting off to sleep.

  Chapter 6

  I wake slowly to the feel of strong arms holding me close in a gentle embrace. Sighing contently, I burrow into the warmth at my back, wishing that it was real and not a byproduct of my fantasies from last night. Startled into full wakefulness by the feel of a rather large and firm bulge hitting my ass, my eyes spring open. They land on a long muscular arm, its hand disappearing under my waist. Turning my head slowly, I follow the arm to a well-defined chest bare of both a shirt or hair. The sight of the divots that define his pecs makes me lick my lips, wishing I could run my tongue along them. Martin’s eyes are closed, his face peaceful in sleep.

  Unsure exactly what I should do, my bladder makes the decision for me. I bring my arm out from under the comforter, carefully moving Martin’s hand out from under me. Thankful, sort of, that he’d fallen asleep above the covers, I try to inch my way out of bed to look for a bathroom.

  “Are you feeling better now?” Martin asks, his voice husky from sleep. I freeze, both from being caught sneaking out of bed and because his voice does funny things to my lady bits. I feel the bed shift and I turn to look at him over my shoulder, watching him stretch. The offending bit that woke me up is on fine display under his navy-blue boxer briefs. My eyes widen and I can feel my lips part a little at the size of his tent. Jerking my eyes to his face, I see him watching me with concern.

  Completely forgetting what his question was I blurt out, “Bathroom!” and move so fast that I fall out of the bed, forgetting that all I’m wearing is my bra. My face on fire, I jump up and run as fast as I can to one of the doors in the room that I pray leads to the bathroom. Just my luck, I slam the door and find myself inside a huge walk-in closet. Making a note to swoon over the sheer size and options later, I snag a robe hanging to my right and quickly belt it on. Taking a fortifying breath, I open the door again and walk to the only other door in the room. Martin is still on the bed watching me closely, but I ignore him and open the door to a majestic sight.

  Closing the door, I marvel at the beautiful grey and white marble counters that support double sinks with a long mirror spanning the wall. There’s even a second vanity built into the wall next to the farthest sink with its own mirror surrounded by spotlights. Walking through the area I turn to my left and see the toilet sitting in a little alcove facing the biggest sink in tub I’ve ever seen. Glancing around the alcove, I spy a glass shower stall with multiple showerheads, three on each side and one in the middle, of one wall. It is by far the most extravagant sight I’d ever seen.

  Done with my business, I wash my hands. I look for and find a toothbrush and paste for my horrid morning breath, before taking one last look at the room. Opening the door, I’m surprised to see Martin is still in my bed, his arms under his head while he watches me come towards him.

  “Why are you here?” I ask as I sit on the edge of the bed, making sure that the robe covers everything indecent. One peepshow a day, that’s my limit.

  “You were yelling in your sleep. When I asked Hannah what to do, she said that I should get in bed with you with as little clothing as possible,” he stated, no idea that he’d been had by a cat. “Since you seem to be doing better now, I will go and get ready for the day.” Still sporting his issue for all to see, he climbs out of bed and bows goodbye before leaving. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  Hoping that the morning will get less ridiculous during breakfast, I go to the walk-in closet. The selection of clothing is mind-boggling. Even the lack of color doesn’t distract from the sheer magnitude of what I’m sure is every woman’s dream. Walking between the rows of clothing, I start to see a pattern emerge in how everything is arranged. Picking out a sleek pair of grey slacks and a black button-up top with ruffles at the sleeves, I find brand new underwear and a bra that is my exact size. In fact, everything here is my size. A chill runs up my spine but I shake it off, putting it down to the weirdness that has become my life.