Endless Knight(84)

Watching him now was like watching a berserker.

I played with fire. I was tempting Death, possibly getting closer to a cuff removal, but at what cost?

Today when he strode through the door, I knew something was different. As I warmed up, he abandoned any pretense of reading, sinking back on a couch that I didn’t remember seeing yesterday. His expression seemed to say, “To hell with it, done fighting.”


“No paper today, Death?”


“Here solely as a spectator.” An avid one. When I stretched, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

“I’ve been a spectator for you too,” I said. “Your workouts have gotten really . . . energetic?”


“I often train harder when my thoughts are . . .”


“In turmoil?” I supplied, stretching my hamstrings.

“In transition,” he said, tilting his head to keep his gaze on my ass.

Whenever his eyes raked over me like that, I had to admit I experienced a toe-curling rush. Still, I cleared my throat; he gave me an unapologetic look.

“So, Death, is today the day you’re going to kill me?”


For the first time, his answer was different: “There’s all the time in the world for that, is there not? For now, I’ll watch you dance.”


Deeming this a good moment to strike, I crossed over to him. “You can take this cuff off me, you know.” Standing before him, I gazed down at his perfect face. “I won’t ever hurt you.”


“I could never give you free run of my home without it.”


This close, his sandalwood scent swept me up. “I’m not like I used to be. You have to sense that.” I eased my legs between his knees.

At once, his eyes flared brighter. “I trust no one fully in the game. Keep your distance.” There was enough steel in his tone for me to back away.

I simply didn’t know him well enough not to find him intimidating at times. I managed an indifferent shrug, then began to dance, soon losing myself in my thoughts.

Which turned straight toward last night’s dream, the one that had starred the man before me. He was my Arcana enemy. So why could I still taste him on my tongue?

As I bent and swayed, working up a sweat, I replayed each second of that dream. I’d run my lips over all the runes on his chest, tracing them with my tongue before descending—


At that moment, I caught him staring at my chest, gaze focused on the peaks of my breasts beneath my sweat-dampened bra. My glyphs stirred, and there was nothing I could do to disguise them.

“What are you thinking about, creature?” His words were husky.

Licking your runes? Thank God he couldn’t read my thoughts anymore. Face flushing, I grasped for something to say. “I bet you were expecting a taller Empress this time around.” Lame.

“I would change nothing about your appearance.”


When we locked eyes in the mirror, his burning gaze made even more heat cascade through my body.

Death rose with that lethal grace and strode toward me. I swallowed. Would he try to kiss me? And what would I do if he did?

He stopped short a slight distance away. “Come to my study this evening.”


“Wow, actual permission to enter?”


“There is a game from long ago. Join me in a hand. If you win, I’ll give you a boon. Lose, and you’ll give me one.”


A boon? Maybe I could finally get him to tell me about our past interactions! “I’ll be there. What’s the game?”


“You’ll see. . . .”


Plagued with curiosity, I’d showered, then peered into the closet. What to wear? My gaze was immediately drawn to anything red, my favorite color.

I settled on jeans and a poppy-red cashmere shell with a matching sweater. On the scale from whoresome to wholesome, my twin set was definitely skewing toward the latter. At least I could remove the sweater, baring my arms.

He seemed to prefer my hair loose, so I left it down.

It was like getting ready for a date. In a way, this was a date. A date with Death? Cringe.

If my thoughts drifted toward another boy, I shut them down ruthlessly.

In fact, as I made my way downstairs, I felt excitement for the first time in ages. I knew I’d learn more from Death tonight, and I wouldn’t be spending hours alone up in my turret.

When I knocked at the Reaper’s study, Cyclops plunked down onto the floor in the hallway.

Instead of calling for me to enter, Death came to open the door. His eyes lightened when looking at me, and I felt myself smiling in response. A good start to the evening.

He ushered me to a seat, all polished manners. I guessed since he’d invited me here, he was going to act the gentleman. He’d certainly dressed up more, in an expensive-looking black button-down and slacks. His belt and shoes looked like they’d cost more than an entire sugarcane crop.

Outside, the rain came down in torrents. Inside this room, we were warm, the space lit only by a fire and candles. I removed my sweater as I sat.

Then I caught sight of a tome on his desk, recalling that my pet/guard had eaten one of Death’s kids. The Prince.

“What is it, Empress? You just went pale.”


So observant. “I, um, have to come clean with you about something. The book you loaned me . . . is totaled.”