The Kiss of Death (Demons' Muse Book 1)

by Auryn Hadley

  "I'm not taking her soul!"

  The second man scoffed. "Didn't expect you to. Stop fucking around and fix her already. The driver of the other car was mind-fucked, man. That means we'll have company if we don't move this along."

  "Shit," Death growled. "Get their aether. I'm probably going to need it."

  "All of them?" a third voice asked from a distance.

  Death looked back, the set of his mouth proving he was pissed. "Right now, I don't fucking care. Just pull as much as you can."

  His friends didn't respond for a moment. When the closest one did, his voice had lost the attitude. "There's two. The third might live."

  "Unless I need it. They gave up any chance of compassion when they hurt her." Then he turned back to me. "I need you to stay with me, dove."

  I nodded, feeling my neck actually obey. It wasn't much, but right about now, I was calling that success. "No kiss this time, ok? I want to graduate before I die."

  "You're not going to die," he promised. Then he called over his shoulder, "Hurry up, you stupid angel!"

  "Here," the second man said, holding out his hand. I could just barely make out his silhouette, but I was pretty sure the blob behind him was a set of wings.

  Death reached back for whatever the angel held, but his eyes hung on me. I couldn't see most of his face, but I could feel it. Not even his thick hood could shield me from the intensity of his gaze. Unfortunately, a look wasn't enough to fix whatever had happened in the wreck. Deep inside, I felt something slip. Suddenly, I weighed less and gravity had reversed. It was like the sky was pulling me, daring me to fall up instead of down.

  "No! Not yet. Come on, dove." He palmed my face, forcing my head to face him. "Stay with me, beautiful."

  "I'm trying."

  Slowly, deliberately, he pulled me to him. The shadows under the hood dared me to look, taunting me with secrets my mind wouldn't understand, but I wanted to. I tried to lean closer, hoping for another glimpse of constellations. Instead, I only saw his mouth move as he whispered the first word. After that, the pain was too intense to think about anything.

  My weightless body slammed back home. The injuries hit me at once, each of them demanding my complete attention. It hurt so much that I didn't even realize the world had changed colors. No, all I could think about was that I would not scream before Death. I would not cry. I could take anything if it meant he'd just talk to me one more time, but it didn't hold back the agony. White light erupted in the back of my eyes, and all I could manage to do was breathe.

  Then nothing.

  ∞∞∞

  I woke with a gasp. Rhythmical beeps and a mechanical hiss chased the silence from the antiseptic room. Voices in the hall spoke softly. Around me, the lights were dim. A soft amber glow trickled beneath the edges of a curtain. Sitting up was more than I could manage, but I did get my head to turn.

  "Sia?" Nick's voice sounded worried.

  "What happened?" There was something I should remember, but couldn't. My mind felt so fuzzy. All I knew was that my head hurt.

  "You were in a wreck. Your car's toast, but you're going to be ok."

  There it was again, that tickle in the back of my mind. I could almost touch the memory, but it kept floating out of reach. Maybe it was the drugs? My head felt strange, so they probably had me on something really good.

  "Why are you here?" I croaked.

  "Because you don't have any emergency contacts in your phone, and I was the last number." He scooted his chair closer. "How do you feel?"

  "Stoned."

  Nick chuckled. "Well, could be worse, I guess. They said it's a miracle you made it out of that with nothing more than a minor concussion."

  "It wasn't my fault. I had the green light, and they didn't even have their headlights on. I hope that bastard's insurance buys me a new car."

  His hand ran across my hair gently, his fingers barely even touching. "No, dove, it wasn't your fault. The other driver had been drinking."

  Dove. Nick always called me dove. Memories seeped back in slowly, oozing around my head before solidifying into coherent thoughts. Death called me dove. I'd seen Death and his eyes were full of the universe, his lips so sensual. I'd asked him not to kiss me, and he'd agreed. He'd told me to hang on. He'd all but berated his assisting angel to fix me.

  "Death saved me," I mumbled, unaware I was even speaking. "He killed those others to make me better, and I'll probably never get to thank him."

  Nick huffed something that sounded like a chuckle. "Thank him? Sienna, I think you're enjoying those pain meds a little too much."

  "Unh-uh. When someone saves your life, you should thank them." My eyelids felt so heavy, but my brain was on a tangent now. "He's always taken care of me. That's why I draw him, but he didn't kiss me."

  "Yeah..." He chuckled. "Close your eyes, dove. The doctor said you need to rest."

  "Mhm. How'd you get in here anyway?"

  "Told them I was your boyfriend," he said softly. "And explained that you don't have any family. Makes me the closest thing to a responsible party that you have." His hand traced the line of my face, and he leaned closer. "Go back to sleep, Sia."

  His voice sounded so good. The rich tone of it was soothing, convincing me to just breathe a little slower and stop trying to open my eyes. Giving in, I snuggled into the pillow, regretting the decision as soon as Nick pulled his hand away.

  From a little farther away, I heard another man chuckle. "Not sure if she's trying to tell you something or is just so stoned she has no clue what she's talking about, but do you need to worry about her little death fetish? Never knew you went for the goth type."

  "Shut up, Luke," Nick grumbled. "She's an artist."

  "Duh," Luke teased. "And one who hates me, which is why I'm staying far enough away that she can't cut me down with those dirty looks. She's cute, though."

  I couldn't take anymore. I was also too stoned on pain meds to realize that silence might have gotten me a little more information. Nope, I just blurted out, "Not cute in the hospital, and I don't like your fucked-up-looking green eyes."

  Both men froze. I couldn't even hear them shift in their chairs. Clearly, they'd assumed I'd just passed right back out.

  "Well," Nick finally chuckled, but it sounded like he was forcing it out. "Guess I don't have a reason to get jealous this time, huh?"

  Luke sighed. "Fine, I'll keep my hands off of your pretty little Muse, Nick. I get it. You're into her."

  "A lot." Nick leaned over and caught my hand, his strong fingers sliding gently between mine as his thumb traced lazy circles on the back. "We should probably get out of here and let her get some sleep."

  I felt his lips on my brow, and his fingers squeezed mine so softly. This time, however, I couldn't open my eyes. My entire body felt worn, like it had been through the wringer, but I didn't really hurt. Death had fixed that, and the pain medication handled the minor stuff. Mostly, I just needed to sleep. As I listened to Nick and Luke's steps leave my room, I stopped trying to fight it. Oblivion took me quickly.

  ∞∞∞

  "I'm here to draw your blood," a woman said, setting down something heavy.

  I sucked in a breath, trying to remember where I was and why I was here. Morning light spilled through a gap in the curtains, proving I'd lost more time than I thought. Snippets crowded in my mind, but two things stood out. Death and Nick. They'd both done their best to take care of me. Now, it was my turn to take care of myself.

  "I'm awake," I croaked, sitting up.

  A woman approached, already wearing latex gloves. Her neon scrubs were glaring to my exhausted eyes, reminding me of the colors in Death's world. She clenched a pair of vials in her hand. "Ok, just put your arm up here. As soon as I'm done, there's a police officer wanting to talk to you."

  "What?" Why would a cop want to talk to me?

  "About the accident. The doctors refused to allow an interview until this morning. I'm not a nurse, so I really don't know anything else." She tied on the
latex tourniquet as she talked.

  I nodded, hoping that was enough of an answer and felt the prick of the needle. The tubes filled quickly, then it was done. The nurse – or whatever she was – pressed a cotton ball and clear medical tape across the puncture. When that was secure, she quickly put her things away and left without another word, her job with me done.

  The door didn't even close before a man tapped at it, walking right in. "Ms. Parker?" he asked. The dark uniform declared him to be the cop.

  "That's me." I tried to smooth down my mass of hair, knowing I looked like a mess.

  "I wanted to talk to you about the accident last night. Is this a good time?"

  I couldn't help it. I laughed just a bit, gesturing to the shapeless drape and the tubes extending from my arm. "Yep. I think I've been cornered. I'm sorry, I didn't have a chance to get presentable."

  He smiled, lifting a hand to show he understood. "I'm not here to judge your fashion sense, Ms. Parker. I just wanted to get your side of the accident. Can you tell me what happened?"

  I sighed and leaned back, digging up the memories. Everything up to the stoplight, that was clear enough, but afterward? It was just a blur until Death showed up, and I was most certainly not going to tell him about that.

  "I was just running out to get some coffee." Ah, crap. I'd already missed class! "For my lecture this morning, which I'm going to need to make up." I groaned. "Crap. Crap, crap, crap. We were supposed to be doing perspective work in Drawing, and I'm going to need at least one example for the final portfolio!"

  "I'm pretty sure you'll have a good excuse," he assured me, trying to bring my mind back on track. "So, you needed coffee?"

  "Yeah. I live on Bernard. I'd just gotten in the car and made it, like, maybe a block, when it started raining hard again." I rubbed at my face, hoping to knock some of the crust out of my eyes. "So I was going about ten miles an hour, and I couldn't see more than a few feet in front of the hood of my car."

  "Yeah, we got some pretty good rain last night. So, which way did you go?"

  "Straight down to Avenue D. The light was red, and I stopped – so don't give me a ticket."

  "None today. Go on?"

  "Yeah. I was headed to the EZ Mart on Clemmens, and watched the other light, waiting for it to turn yellow. I was pretty sure no one else was out."

  "Did you see any other traffic?" He was scribbling in a small notepad, glancing up at me with each question.

  "No. It was raining so hard I couldn't have seen a person walking on the sidewalk, but I don't remember any other headlights."

  "And then?"

  I squinted my eyes and rubbed the bridge of my nose, trying to remember. "Yeah. The light turned green. I started easing forward to turn left. Something caught my eye, but it was dark. I wasn't sure it was a car until I heard brakes, or tires, or something, and then bam. That's all I remember."

  "So they didn't have their lights on?" He didn't look up this time.

  "I don't think so. It all just happened so fast, but I remember seeing something dark coming at me. Maybe he turned out of the apartments there and forgot to turn them on? I don't know. I mean, no one with half a brain would be doing more than twenty in that weather, but this guy was moving."

  "I understand. Did you check both ways before you went?"

  I picked at a tangle on the back of my head, trying to remember. "Maybe? I mean, I always do. I sat at the light for a few minutes. It had just turned red when I got there, so yeah. I had to have, but I can't exactly remember it."

  "That's ok, Ms. Parker. Is there anything else I should know?"

  I chuckled weakly. "I think my plates are expired. I was going to get them renewed, but I don't get paid until Friday."

  "I think we can overlook that. Had you been out? Had anything to drink?"

  "Soda. That's it, and that was a few hours before. I'm not a diabetic or anything."

  He nodded. "Any recreational drugs?"

  I shook my head. "No, sir. Don't touch them. Especially not when spending the evening learning calculus. I'm sorry, I'm kinda boring for a college student."

  "Don't be," he assured me. "We're going to need to look at your medical records, though, to verify that. If you'd be willing to give us permission, that would make things a lot easier." He sighed and slowly closed the notepad. "Ms. Parker, the accident was a fatality. The driver of the other car and a passenger were killed on impact."

  It was like a thousand ice-cold needles prickled through my skin at once, and my stomach clenched. I'd already known that. How could I have actually known that unless Death was real? "Of course. Yeah. Look at anything you need to. Did anyone make it?"

  "Yes, the passenger in the back seat. She's in critical condition. Your car didn't have airbags, correct?"

  "No. It's an '84 Honda Civic CRX." I groaned. "Was. Damn, it's got to be totaled."

  "I'm sure your insurance adjuster will let you know." He stuffed the pen back in his breast pocket. "I'm glad to see you're doing ok. That wasn't the kind of accident people just walk away from."

  No, they didn't, and I shouldn't have either, but I had no intention of telling him how Death helped me. Instead, I just nodded my head. "I guess I've just used up all my luck for the year. Were they drinking?" Nick had said they were.

  He opened his mouth, paused, then closed it. He licked his lips once before answering. "It's possible. We're waiting for the test results still."

  "That means yes." I groaned. "Which means this is going to end up in court, most likely. Yeah. So what do y'all need from me?"

  He lifted the small notebook and smiled sadly. "I think we have it. There are some mental health professionals located in the hospital. Did you need to speak to one about this?"

  "Nah." I shrugged and tried not to look guilty. "Some random college kids died in a drunk driving accident. I probably didn't know them, never saw them, and kinda don't want to. I mean, it basically feels like a news story just trashed my car, and still feels a bit surreal."

  I was probably being very insensitive, but it was the truth. I didn't know those people, and they hit me! It wasn't like I'd made them drink and drive, or made them crash into my car. Maybe I should've felt worse, but I just didn't. Then again, maybe it was the drugs they'd given me.

  "I just wanted to make sure you knew the option is there." He laid a white business card on the table beside my bed. "If you think of anything else, call me, ok?"

  "Yeah." He was almost to the door when I thought of something. "Officer? Where's my car?"

  "The city impound. It's going to be reviewed for evidence."

  Yep, I'd done this before. "I've got books and stuff in there. Am I going to be able to get it out?" Stuff included art supplies I'd purchased but never taken inside for fear of using them up.

  He nodded. "Just stop by the downtown police station after 2:00 pm and they'll be able to get your things. Thanks again, Ms. Parker."

  Chapter 8

  The rest of the morning ended up a flurry of tests and doctor visits, but all I could think about was how I was going to get home. I didn't want to walk, but my wallet was somewhere in my car, stashed carefully in my purse, and I didn't have a penny to my name. Thankfully, the problem was taken out of my hands when Sam strode into the room.

  "So, heard you might need a ride," he greeted me. "How's your head?"

  I could see a question lingering in his eyes. Nick had probably told him about my crazy talk the night before, but at that moment, I didn't care. He'd just become my hero, so he could think I was as loopy as he wanted.

  "It's good," I assured him. "Doctors said a minor concussion, but that's all. I feel a little fuzzy and have a few bumps and bruises, but nothing worth complaining about."

  He nodded. "Nick asked if I could give you a ride. Said you had a rough night. What happened?"

  The look he gave me appeared honestly concerned - maybe even a little protective. It made me realize that without Nick overshadowing him, Sam really was a good looking guy. I
just had to get past his crazy hair and piercings to see it.

  "I forgot to pick up groceries so tried to make a dash to the corner store." Sighing, I gestured to the cheap, nearly paper scrubs the hospital had supplied to cover me until I got home. "Got hit by a drunk on the way. They ended up cutting my clothes off me, so I'm not only short a car, but my favorite jeans are toast."

  It didn't make any sense but learning that my most comfortable pair of jeans – a pair I'd had since high school – had been a victim of the wild night hurt worse than anything else. Maybe I was just trying to hold onto a bit of reality to make the rest easier to set aside? Either way, I'd really liked those jeans.

  "Yeah." Sam raised an eyebrow at the faded blue outfit I had on. "Definitely not the sexiest thing you've ever worn, but at least you're ok, right?"

  "Something like that." I pulled myself off the bed and tilted my head toward the hall, not wanting to stay here a second longer than I had to. "Lead on, before the nurses try to put me in a wheelchair. I don't remember how I got here, and I'm definitely unsure how to get out."

  We walked through the hospital side by side, Sam waiting for my ponderous, sore steps. After they'd taken me off the IV drip, my muscles realized what kind of abuse they'd taken. Needless to say, I was paying for it. The whole way, Sam didn't say much, but he kept glancing over to check on me. It was kinda weird. We didn't really know each other. I had no idea why he'd been willing to give me a ride, but I sure wasn't about to question it, at least not until I was home. Having no family and no friends was working against me one more time.

  Just outside the lobby doors, he pointed to the right, leading me to the closest parking area. "Mine's the Porsche."

  Figured. Sam looked like a wild child, acted like one, and evidently, he was the owner of that fancy car I'd seen in the driveway the night before. "Must be nice," I muttered under my breath.

  Yeah, I might have been a little resentful. It wasn't really that I wanted some expensive car or a green Victorian mansion. Mostly, it was just that I knew missing a single day of class could cost me a few thousand dollars that I didn't have. My car was gone, I didn't have the funds to rent one, and could only guess how much trouble the insurance agent was going to give me before they paid out all ten bucks that my piece of crap had been worth. I wasn't jealous of the car; I was envious of the stability.