Caged by Damnation (Caged #2)(41)

All it would take for me to enter Death's domain was a few minor steps. If I could have taken them over the course of a lifetime, the way most people did, I would have been fine. Unfortunately, I didn't have until old age to make peace with Death. I needed to move forth and bridge the gap that I knew was destined to expand if I didn't repair it now.

Closing my eyes, I held my breath and squeezed through the doorway. I didn't want to see what was on the other side until it would be too late to turn back. Otherwise, I would lose my nerve. Once I was fully inside, I cringed at the cry of the doors closing. Surprisingly, I didn't burst into flames or endure any other type of agony. Instead, a slight breeze whirled around me, carrying with it the scent of vanilla and cherry blossoms.

The husky tone of Death’s voice made its way through the darkness, locating me amongst the echoing chambers. "I see you finally made up your mind."

My eyes opened, stinging from the sudden light, and I was brought up short by Death's chambers. He was sitting to the side of the room in a circular chair with one leg balancing on the knee of the other, holding his chin between his thumb and pointer finger, appraising me.

Death's face remained stagnant. "What do you want?"

Ignoring the barb, I glanced around his room, noticing his eclectic tastes. Death's domain seemed to be lit by prisms reflecting the light of the fireplace tenfold. A chaise took up residence where I expected to find a bed. I could understand a bachelor owning a futon, but a chaise? It was overly girly and I suspected it would be uncomfortable for anything longer than a nap.

One wall was covered in a tapestry of a gazebo; the other held shelves, which should have contained books, but instead held an array of objects. I was reminded of a museum since the objects merged old with new, except the old were positively archaic and the new were barreling into the space age.

"I have a theory." I picked up a chunk of rock, churning it in my hands. It was a cave painting and I was fairly sure it had been stolen from an archeological site.

"A theory? Do I even want to know?" Death drawled, as he stood to take the stone from my grasp and place it back on its shelf.

"We rub each other the wrong way."

Death's eyebrow rose at the double meaning behind my words.

"I mean, we don't get along."

A placating smile grazed his features. "What gave you that idea?"

I turned away from him to walk to the next row of shelves. "Everyone is afraid of you or is used to you calling all the shots, but I don't treat you like that." Turning suddenly, my hands absently picked at some flint lying near me. "It makes sense that it would bother you."

Death nodded, eyeing the flint in my hand, as if afraid I would break it. He was beginning to remind me of a parent watching their child in a store of breakables. "What bothers me is your incessant need to touch things that don't belong to you."

"Right." I tossed the flint towards him, watching him barely catch it, as he growled at me in irritation. I laughed, "See? I treat you like an equal and you're used to everyone standing at least three steps beneath you. Everyone looks up at you like you're God or the Devil, but I refuse do anything other than look straight into your eyes."

I leaned into his face to prove my point and he stared back at me. For a moment, I did nothing but stare deep into his black irises. As I lingered, the color changed from a deep black to a marble collage of silver, hazel, and blue. Hypnotized, I hadn't noticed my body leaning farther until he cleared his throat and I became aware of our noses touching.

I moved away, placing much needed space between us, and avoided his gaze with an embarrassed wince. "Sorry."

He leaned into the bookcase, smirking at my uncomfortable stance, and whispered, "For nearly succumbing to my overwhelming sexuality or for calling me the Devil?"

"Ugh! You are impossible."

His smile disappeared. "I'm just teasing you. Ever think that part of your problem might be that you need to get a sense of humor?"

I stuck my tongue out at him and continued my exploration. "What's this?" I pointed to the center bookcase, devoid of shelves and housing a large rectangular box attached to a tube.

Death pushed away and walked closer, making me uncomfortable with his nearness. "That is a type of polar plant. It's meant to go without sunlight for long periods of time. During times of intense sunlight I take it out and it rejuvenates."

My eyes narrowed in confusion. "What's the point of owning a plant if you never get to look at it? And what is this tube thingy?"

Death made a sound that was halfway between a snort and laugh. "Nice use of vocabulary. Tube thingy?" he said sarcastically, as he lifted the top of the box, revealing the plant beneath. "I can look at it." He pointed at the tube. "That delivers a combination of oxygen and moisture. You never answered my question...."

My fingers traced the fern-like plant and the cascading pink buds. They were shaped like bells, but tapered out at the edges, as if they were a rug frayed at the seams. "Sorry for zoning out. This is gorgeous. What's it called?"

Before I knew it, Death had eliminated my touching of the plant and repositioned the lid. "It's technically extinct. At least … that's what the humans believe. She's the last of her kind and doesn't have a name. She lived long before humans existed."