Touch If You Dare

by Stephanie Rowe

  “And if I sheath my blade, which I agree is heavily tainted.” Jarvis shoved harder against Death’s blade. “It puts me in a defenseless position against a man who gets his jollies out of mowing off people’s heads before their time.”

  “Honest to God, do you really think it doesn’t affect me when the innocent must fall beneath my blade?” Death made a noise of exasperation. “Does everyone on this forsaken planet think I have no compassion and no understanding of love? I have feelings, for hell’s sake!”

  Jarvis leaned more of his weight into his sword. “If it’s any consolation, I’m completely fucked when it comes to love myself.”

  Death leaned closer, inspecting Jarvis closely. “You speak the truth.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sucks a bit, doesn’t it?”

  Jarvis shrugged. “It is what it is.”

  Death studied him. “You may live for the moment.” He abruptly dropped his scythe and Jarvis nearly fell over when the pressure was released from his sword.

  Reina sank down in a chair in relief. Everyone was alive for now. Which was convenient, since she needed both of these men in major ways. Not that she was really worried that either of them could be stopped or hurt, but how would a battle between two immortal warriors end? She glanced at Jarvis, thought of his impending demise, and a cold chill rippled over her. It was too soon for his ending.

  It would always be too soon, she realized.

  Her boss turned toward her, still fondling his staff with too much enthusiasm. “What are you doing here, Fleming? My office is off-limits when I’m not here, and never do you allow access to anyone I haven’t pre-approved—” He paused suddenly and sniffed the air.

  “I was getting you coffee.”

  “A complete lie.” Death was already striding across the office toward the espresso. “You are a naughty girl for trying to use caffeine to distract me.” He stopped suddenly and looked at his computer. “You were in my system,” he said quietly, a lethal undertone. Death’s entire body went rigid, and his fingertips turned black.

  Oh… shit…

  “I did it,” Jarvis strode forward. “I was looking for—”

  “My sister,” Reina interrupted. Yes, it made her go all snuggly and warm that Jarvis would step up and try to protect her from Death, but the man had no idea what made Death tick, and she did. She had a chance of sweet-talking their survival. He did not. Weren’t they partners for a reason? Who had the insider knowledge with Death? Yes, that would be the girl. “I think Natalie’s going to die soon, and I wanted to see if she was in there.”

  Death looked at the computer, where Natalie’s face was still grinning on the monitor. Hallelujah! Sometimes being faced with your greatest nightmare came in extremely handy.

  Jarvis glared at her, shooting her a silent reprimand for taking the blame, and she smiled back at him. It felt good to have someone trying to help her. It really did. It made her stronger, and that was a brilliant feeling. Maybe that’s what Natalie had meant when she’d talked about not wanting to walk away from the feeling of power and invincibility that the deedub curse gave her. It felt so much better to be courageous than afraid, and Reina had Jarvis to thanks for giving her that boost.

  Death leaned forward and studied the screen, then looked up, his eyes gentler than she’d ever seen. “She’s the last of your family.”

  Reina felt her throat tighten, and she shoved her hands in her jeans, not wanting him to see her pain. He’d take advantage of it, she was sure. “Yeah, well, yes.”

  Jarvis threw his arm around her shoulders and tucked her into the curve of his body. She leaned into him, accepting his strength.

  Death narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “You love her.”

  Reina raised her chin, emboldened by Jarvis’s support. Plus, she knew Death respected love, so hiding it wouldn’t help her. “Of course I do.”

  “Well, then.” Death sat down in the chair and began typing. “We can’t have you suffer like this. This is wrong.”

  Reina’s heart started to race. Was it this simple? “Are you going to take her off the list?”

  Death laughed softly. “My dear, you know I can harvest someone before their time, but if someone’s time has come, I can’t stop it.”

  “But you can! I’ve seen you—”

  Death flung up his hand. “I have never interfered with preordained death. To do so would violate my oath to Lord Grim.” He gave her a meaningful look that commanded her not to dare contradict him. “And why bother? When the soul reaches the Afterlife, it’s happy time anyway. So, why torture a soul by keeping it here when it’s ready to go? Ridiculous.” He waggled a finger at her. “Keeping her here would be only for the benefit of those left behind, and you, of anyone, would know that’s not a good enough reason.”

  Desperation made Reina shove away from Jarvis and grab Death’s desk. “But she doesn’t want to go—”

  “If she didn’t, then she wouldn’t. It’s that simple.” Death tapped his temple. “All our power is up here. She believes she’s going to die, then she does. She believes she won’t, and she doesn’t.” He jerked his chin at Jarvis. “Just ask him. The boy’s circumvented me more times than the entire vampire community.”

  Jarvis shrugged modestly. “I had things to do.”

  “Exactly.” Death started to type again. “But I do understand the pain of losing someone you love.” Shadows haunted his eyes. “So, I’ll put you on personal leave for the next forty-eight hours. That way you can spend these last two days with her. We’ll deal with your promotion afterwards. Seems rather callous to be worrying about your job when your sister is dying, don’t you think?”

  Reina’s stomach dropped. “Oh, no. Don’t put me on leave—”

  “And that’s simply cruel to have you listed as her Guide. I’ll change that.” He hit the keys a few more times.

  “Wait, no!” Reina leapt forward. “I want to be there for her! If some stranger takes her—”

  “Oh, you’ll be there, but you won’t have to take that final step of cleaving her soul from her body.” He shut off the monitor. “We already know you have a problem with that, so what makes you think you could do it to your sister? The poor dear would be hovering between worlds, stuck because you couldn’t make yourself bring her over. Is that what you want for her? I think not.” He grabbed her shoulders and hugged her. “I won’t let you throw away your love for your sister. Embrace my gift.”

  She fought to get free. “I do love her, but the only way I can handle her death is to work—”

  He set her back and eyed her. “Love is a gift, Fleming, and if you piss it away then you aren’t the person I want working for me. Take the holiday, and don’t come back until Monday. If you come back earlier, you’re fired, and this time for real. Got it?”

  Oh, shit. “I’m not pissing it away. You don’t understand love—”

  “Oh, now you want to accuse me of being an insensitive beast, too?” Death shoved back from his desk so hard his chair slammed into the wall and left a mark in the molding.

  “Death—”

  “No.” Jarvis’s arm slid around her throat, pulling her back against him. His voice was low, his breath warm against her ear. “Stand down, babe. Now is not the time.”

  She gripped his forearm. “But if I can’t work, I can’t save her—”

  His arm tightened, anchoring her against his chest. “You press it now, and you cut off all your options. Be strategic.”

  Death whirled around to face them. His eyes were deep black, roiling with fury.

  She’d never seen him this pissed. He never lost control. Ever.

  “And you.” Death jammed his index finger at Jarvis. “What the hell are you doing in my office? You know better than that.”

  Jarvis thumbed her lower lip with his thumb, a tender gesture to the outside observer, but a silent order to keep her mouth shut. “I need to speak to you about Cameron Swain. I understand he is a resident here.”

  Rein
a leaned her head back against Jarvis’s shoulder, her mind frantically trying to come up with a plan. Anything. What was she going to do? She didn’t have a backup plan for being taken off duty!

  Death’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”

  Jarvis stiffened behind her, and she felt his body begin to heat up. “It’s very important I speak with my brother. It’s official business about the fate of the world.”

  Death’s eyebrows shot up. “Why don’t you give me the message? If I see him, I’ll pass it on.”

  Jarvis shook his head, and she felt him shift. His muscles were tight, his breathing was getting stronger. He was getting angry at Death for evading. The monster was taking over. Not what they needed right now. “I’ll pay you ten million dollars to hand him over to me,” Jarvis said.

  “Hah!” Death laughed. “One-time sums are not what a company is built upon. I am about long-term strategy.”

  “Twenty million.”

  Death yanked his skull and crossbones mug out of the machine. “Insult me with another offer and you die.”

  “Thirty million.”

  Death rolled his eyes and sat down at his desk as he idly flipped the scythe free. “Honestly, do people not take me seriously when I threaten death? Do I look like a pushover? I do have my name for a reason.”

  “Wait.” Reina pulled free of Jarvis’s arms. “The truth is that Cameron is Jarvis’s brother. Jarvis is dying and he needs to see Cameron before he dies—”

  “Oh, for hell’s sake. You think that just because your story worked on me that I’m so soft that any little story about love between brothers will knock me around?” He took a long drink of coffee and sighed with delight. “The complexity with which I make decisions are far beyond the ability of ordinary beings like yourselves to comprehend.” He pointed his scythe at Jarvis. “You want to burden your brother with your own problems, and it has nothing to do with whether you love him.” He raised his brows. “Do you love? Do you, young man?”

  Agony ripped across Jarvis’s face, making his eyes even darker. “I don’t have that capacity.”

  Death inclined his head in respect. “I admire that honesty. For that, I allow you to live.” He spun the scythe around on his fingers. “On two conditions: You leave my dwelling and never return. The second is that, since you have clearly already tried to burden my star Guide with your own problems, you reverse that and instead assign yourself as her bodyguard for the next two days and make sure she does not work or return here. Learn about love from her. She’s got the goods.” He cocked his head thoughtfully. “In fact, return here on Monday morning with a ten page dissertation on what you learned about love from Fleming and her sister. Got it? Otherwise, I’ll kill you.”

  Jarvis narrowed his eyes, and she could see the wheels turning his mind. Well, that was good at least. He was the self-proclaimed God of the Infinity of Choices. Let him come up with another option.

  In the meantime… She sat down in Death’s guest chair. “I do love my sister,” she said. “And that’s why I need your understanding here. It’s really, really important for me to be her Guide, and she has specifically instructed me to keep going with my career so she doesn’t need to worry about me when she dies. Continuing to work is necessary for my own sanity, but also as my gift to her—”

  “Which is why I’ll let you come back on Monday instead of taking a six-month grieving leave.” Death tapped his cheek thoughtfully. “But that does mean I need to find someone else to take care of the harvest of Augustus…”

  “I’ll do it.” Jarvis set his hand on Reina’s shoulder. “And in exchange you’ll bring Cam to me.”

  “I will do nothing at your command,” Death snapped. “For your information, your brother is already on his way to find Augustus with my grandfather. I’ll have them take care of the assassin. Gramps would like it anyway.”

  “Cam? You want Cam to kill Augustus?” Jarvis’s hand went to his sword. “Love is only as pure as the vessel it’s in, and if Cam murders, that’ll blow love to pieces. End of the world chaos. He can’t—”

  “Oh, give me a break.” Death snorted. “Why would I make the Guardian of Love a killer? He is simply using his love skills to help my grandpa find his true love.”

  “You lying son of a bitch.” Jarvis reached across the table and grabbed Death by the lapels. “Where the fuck is my brother?”

  “Jarvis!” Reina grabbed his arms. Hello, warrior guy! Strategic error to threaten Death. “Let go!” She could feel the heat rising from his skin, and she knew it wasn’t Jarvis calling the shots. It was his beast.

  Death’s eyes were glowing black. “You are now on my short list, Mr. Swain. Surely there is someone who will pay me good money to harvest your soul. Once I find them…” He snapped his fingers. “Then it becomes worth my time to kill you.”

  Completely undaunted in a totally badass and insanely bullheaded way that was so not the cool, calculating warrior she knew he was, Jarvis tightened his grip, his own eyes getting darker by the nanosecond. “Tell me where my brother is before I—”

  “Be off, both of you now.” Death grabbed a totem pole from the back of his office. “Catch.” He hurled it at Reina’s head.

  “No, don’t touch it. It’s wood and he can send us away through it—” But Reina’s warning was too late. Jarvis caught it a split second before it plundered through Reina’s skull. The post brushed against her forehead, the room turned fuzzy, and Jarvis’s face became blurry.

  And then they were gone.

  They’d just been exiled.

  Chapter 12

  Of all the decidedly inconvenient inventions, tinted limousine windows had to be one of the most aggravating ones.

  Natalie set her hands on her hips as she surveyed the string of limos lined up outside the Symphony Hall. Mostly black, a few white, all of them gleaming and shiny. All of them with tinted windows keeping her from finding her target.

  Somewhere in that line was the Godfather, but she had no idea which one. And she didn’t have much time to figure it out. Trinity would know by now that Natalie had vaulted out the bathroom window, and it would take a three-second Google search to find out that the Godfather was attending the private benefit by Elton John at Symphony Hall tonight.

  Natalie’s phone rang and she looked down. Trinity. She declined the call but knew her friend would be closing in fast. Desperation pulsed through her, an almost frantic need to find the Godfather. It didn’t make sense, but she couldn’t stop it. She’d been drawn here by an invisible cord, hauling her down here faster than she could even conceive.

  Her phone beeped. A text from Trinity. Your soul wants to live. Don’t let the deedub poison mess with you. Tell me where you are and I’ll help you. Don’t make the same mistake all your sisters and your mom made. CALL ME.

  Her mother. Her sisters. All gone.

  Another text. You don’t want to die, Natalie. You don’t!

  Oh, God. Trinity was right. Natalie didn’t want to die like them. She wanted to live, she wanted a chance to have a life like a normal person. She wanted to wake up to the sunshine and not wonder whether today was the day when she went over the edge. She didn’t want to die naked and exposed in the arms of some stranger just because he could hypnotize her burdensome libido with the snap of his manipulative and deadly fingers. She hit send and put the phone to her ear. “Help me, Trinity,” she said, unable to keep the panic out of her voice. “I’m losing it!”

  “Tell me where you are. I’ll come right away.”

  “I’m—” Natalie froze as a tall figure stepped out of one of the limos further down the way. He was in silhouette, but his shoulders were broad, and he was tall, so tall. Awareness pulsed deep in her belly and then he stepped under the white theatre lights.

  The Godfather.

  Dread filled her at the same moment that excitement ricocheted through her. “Oh, no,” she whispered. “It’s too late. He’s here.”

  “Who? Where are you? Tal
k to me, Natalie!”

  But she couldn’t concentrate on her friend. She let the phone drop by her side and turned toward the man who was going to kill her. She wanted to run, tried to scream, but all she managed was one step backwards and a low moan.

  His gaze was fixed on her, and there was such heat in his eyes she felt her own body ignite. He strode toward her, purposefully, not even noticing the people who had to jump out of his way to keep from being plowed down. She knew he wasn’t responding to her. He was caught in the glare of her deedub glow. This wasn’t real. It was a charade, a deadly game.

  He stopped in front of her. He was wearing tails, and his dark hair was slicked back from his tanned complexion. “Natalie. You came.”

  Stating the obvious was incredibly erotic when done by a man whose clothes fit him better than a supermodel’s, by a man whose voice made her girly parts tremble. But she managed to shake her head, fought for sanity, struggled for salvation. “I shouldn’t have come. I need to go.” She managed another step back.

  “Natalie? Who’s that? Where are you?” Trinity’s frantic voice echoed over the phone. “Nat!”

  The Godfather took her wrist, and she stopped retreating, unable to tear herself away.

  All she could do was watch in terrified anticipation as he spoke into her phone. “I promise I’ll take good care of her.”

  “What? Who is this?” Then there was a pause. “Oh, shit. It’s you. Don’t do this—”

  The Godfather shut off the phone and slipped it into his pocket. He held out his arm. “Would you care to accompany me into the gala?”

  “No, God, no.” Run away! Run away! The voice in her head was distant, screaming desperately…

  And then it was gone.

  Replaced by a burning need she couldn’t resist. Didn’t want to resist. Couldn’t think of a reason to resist.

  “I would be honored.” She slipped her hand onto the Godfather’s proffered elbow. The material of his suit was so soft, so silky, as if it had been handwoven by a dozen angels and blessed by a rose. A rose. A pink one. Like the one on Nigel’s cheek. Nigel.