Avery sighed, leaning against the doorframe of her aunt’s bedroom, watching the soft rise and fall of her chest. Aunt Caroline was sleeping a lot lately. Her energy was just… non-existent. Avery hadn’t been into work at all this week. She felt her throat closing, the muscles working painfully to stop the spill of tears and the sob that was desperate to wrench out of her. Tonight she’d actually had to help her aunt bathe. Her capable, beautiful aunt. The truth of it all made Avery want to throw up. It looked like Caroline had less time than they’d thought.
Eyelids heavy with exhaustion, Avery pushed away from the door wishing to God she could scream until she was hoarse. Instead she turned silently and padded into the sitting room, fully intending on collapsing on the sofa bed and sleeping for a million years.
“Holy Jesus Crap!” She shrieked quietly, coming to a stop. Her heart got stuck somewhere in her throat.
Tall, dark scarred guy was in their sitting room, standing in front of the television. The scar seemed to pulse at her menacingly and she swallowed, having forgotten how much it unnerved her. Fear clawed at Avery’s chest as he moved towards her.
Understanding crashed over her in mammoth, terrifying waves, pulling her under. She couldn’t swim these waters. “No!” she whisper-shouted. “You’re not getting her!”
“Avery-”
“No! I know what you are!” Tears cascaded down her cheeks. “I know,” she sobbed, trying to catch her breath. “And you’re not getting her. I’m not ready yet!”
He moved so fast all she saw was a blur of darkness, like a streak of black paint across a grey canvas. Suddenly she was in his arms and he was hugging her, hushing her cries, whispering soothing nonsense words in her ear. Avery pushed against him, terrified of this dark creature.
“No!” She pushed and he reluctantly let her go. “I know what you are.”
He frowned at her, rubbing his cheek in thought, his fingers brushing the groove of the scar. “I’m not here for your aunt, Avery.”
Relief immediately whooshed through her and she sagged against the back of the sofa.
“Not yet,” he amended.
Avery glared at him. “Why are you stalking me? Is it me? Am I dying?”
He smiled softly, drawing her attention out from the scar to his face. “No.”
She trembled, edging away from him. “Then what does Death want with me?”
His eyes seemed to spark to life and he shook his head. “You always amaze me.”
She shook her head. “You don’t know me.”
“Of course I do. I know you better than anyone.”
Why did he look so sad at her rejection? Didn’t he know how scared she was? “Why are you here?”
“You know why I’m here. I’m here for you.” He reached out a large elegant hand for her and she stumbled back. He grimaced. “Please don’t be frightened of me. I would never hurt you.”
“B-b-but you’re d-death,” she stuttered moving further back until she hit the wall. “Why else would you be here for me?”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair, seeming far too human for her liking. “Can we sit? Will you listen while I explain?”
“Do I have a choice?”
He tilted his head, a sardonic smirk playing on his lips. “Let’s try not to be melodramatic, Avery. You always have a choice.”
Watching him carefully, Avery nodded, feeling as if she was watching this play out from a distance; it was so surreal. Yet, she knew this was no nightmare. It was happening. “Explain.”
“Do you want to sit?”
“Not particularly.”
“Fine,” he huffed, actually seeming affronted by her manners. He folded his large body into her aunt’s armchair and Avery almost smiled at how ridiculous he looked against the floral pattern of the fabric covering. “My name is Brennus.”
“And you’re Death?” Avery asked warily, trying to remember if she had accidentally taken some hallucinogens in the last 24 hours.
He shrugged. “Depends on what you mean by Death?”
Avery rolled her eyes at his blasé tone. “Death. As in Angel of. Grim Reaper. Black hooded cloak. Big scythe.”
Brennus chuckled and sank back into the chair, appearing completely relaxed. “Well that’s not right at all. For a start… there isn’t only one Death.”
The breath whooshed out of her body. “You mean you’re not… alone?”
Seeming amused by the idea he shook his head slowly. “You really think one guy can take care of all the deaths in this world?”
Well… when he put it like that… no.
She replied with a jerky shake of her head.
“There are many of us. Once ordinary men and women, we were offered the chance of immortality in exchange for ferrying the dead into their afterlife.”
Avery felt sick. She shivered, her eyes narrowed on him. “You chose to do this? Why would you do that?” This man, this immortal, who she was at once attracted to and wanted to run from, was some soulless creature who had sold himself to the underworld for the chance at immortality. She was disgusted with herself for being drawn to him.
Brennus’ face darkened, his eyes flashing dangerously, reminding her who he was and how powerful he was. “You misunderstand, little one.”
Even though her breath was coming in shallow gasps, Avery was determined not to be browbeaten by this… creature. “Then explain.”
“We don’t kill people, Avery. We just show them the way when their time is up.”
“But why would you want that kind of job?”
“Someone has to do it.”
At his sad answer Avery felt a little faint and she let her body slide down the wall until her bottom hit the wooden floors. “What do you want with me?”
Sighing, Brennus leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. His gaze had softened again as it washed over her face, tallying her features. “We’re called the Ankou. Or the Thana, depending on where you’re coming from.”
Avery just stared at him, not even asking what he meant.
“My province was London,” Brennus continued. “I was responsible for seeing the safe journey of the dead there over to their afterlife-”
“For how long?” Avery interrupted, needing to know, no matter how upsetting (could it get any more upsetting considering she was sitting here talking to Death?).
“Nearly two thousand years,” he replied promptly. “When London was Londinium and much smaller, I might add. I had more free time back then.”
She gave a little guffaw of hysterical laughter, ignoring his glare. She waved him off. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m just laughing at this.” She gestured around her. “I think all the trauma has finally gotten to me.”
Brennus stared her down. “You know this is real, Avery. You know me.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Yes. You do,” he insisted, his voice hardening under her denial.
She shivered, clutching her stomach, heat blossoming on her cheeks. She felt a little feverish. “Why?” She desperately wanted to cry as she pinned him with her forthright blue gaze. “Why are you so familiar?”
Brennus exhaled, a relieved smile playing on his lips. He had a beautiful mouth, she realised distantly. He relaxed back into the armchair. “I only took over New York nine years ago. I came here for a reason. When she was ten years old, a little girl and her parents came over from the U.S. to Britain, and they were involved in a tragic car accident. I came for them all.”
Avery swallowed past the lump in her throat, not sure if she had heard correctly over the rushing of blood in her ears. “Them all?”
Nodding, Brennus leaned forward again, his eyes dark with sympathy. “I took the parents easily. But the little girl…” He shook his head, his face alight with wonder. “…she fought me. No one had ever fought me before. You fought me, Avery. You fought me and won.”
“No.” She quivered, pressing her spine against the wall, wishing she could melt into it. Tears spilled over her lids but she couldn’t escape the truth. No wonder he was so familiar.
“We made a connection that day that can’t be broken. I knew I had to watch over you. So I called up Edward who controlled New York and we traded.”
Her jaw dropped. “You make it sound like you traded baseball cards.”
Brennus shrugged. “After eighteen hundred years as an Ankou you tend to be less sensitive about death.”
Avery ignored the comment, staring at her bare feet in a daze. She’d painted her toe nails black today. That wasn’t an omen, was it? “So you followed me?”
“Yes,” he whispered, his voice packed full of emotion she wished wasn’t there.
“And now what?”
“You belong with me, Avery. I feel it in my gut.”
Her head snapped up, her stomach fluttering with butterflies. “When you say belong… you mean…?”
Throwing her a wicked smile that would thaw the iciest of hearts, Brennus replied, “As in belong with, as in my friend and eternal lover.”
She dropped her head in her hands, shaking uncontrollably. “This can’t be happening, this isn’t happening, I’m going mad-”
“Avery, stop,” he snapped and she felt the breeze of blurry movement as he knelt before her, only inches from her now. He moved supernaturally fast. His warm hand reached up and yanked her hands away from her face so she’d have no choice but to look at him. All she could see were his eyes; the paleness of his face and horror of his scar just a blur compared to the sharp clarity of those eyes.
“You’re warm,” she said dumbly.
Brennus grunted, “You expected different?”
“Cold. I expected you to be cold.”
He snorted. “I’m not a vampire, Avery.”
Her eyes widened. “Do they exist?!”
His eyes closed and he shook with suppressed laughter. Finally his lashes fluttered and he opened his lids, pinning her to the wall with his black gaze. “No. They don’t.”
Trying to pull her wrists out of his grasp, Avery muttered, “So you really think I belong with you, huh?”
“Didn’t you feel it when we danced?” he whispered sensually, his hot woodsy scent enveloping her.
“Stop that!” she snapped, snatching her hands back.
Brennus frowned in confusion. “Stop what?”
“That.” She gestured vaguely. “That intoxicating, drugging thing you do with your heat and smell…” She drifted off at his languid grin. She huffed, “You’re not doing anything, huh?”
He shook his head smugly.
“Look, I don’t know what you’re expecting from me but you’ve got the wrong girl,” she insisted.
Brennus went back to glaring. “I’m not wrong.” He heaved an exasperated sigh. “I know I’m not much to look at, Avery, but if you gave me a chance…” He gulped in a breath and shook his head. “I’ve lived a long time, Avery, and I know that you’re the one. The Ankou are destined to live forever performing the duties of their obligation to the dead… unless…”