sure whose blood the shadow will be of?” he finished, his voice level. “Or are you?”
She turned away, not really sure how to answer. He already had a pretty good idea of where the conversation was heading. She could see it in the tension in his face, feel it in the tension of his muscles. She watched the day stream into the room through the window, noting the changing shadows on the floor and walls. It must be almost midday by now. She’d been with Patrick for almost three hours—the longest she’d ever stayed in one human’s company her entire existence.
And you’re in no hurry to leave, are you?
Tugging her legs closer to her chest, she turned back to him.
“C’mon, Death.” Patrick’s grin was wry. “You can do it.”
Mouth dry, chest heavy, she let out another sigh. “I don’t know.”
His laugh was a wry as his grin. “What’s the rest?”
She didn’t answer him. She didn’t want to.
You have to, Fred. You need to prepare him for what is to come. Whatever that is.
Swallowing, she dug her nails into her knees and pressed her back harder to the sofa, welcoming the pain the pressure caused on her spine. “In a book called Death and Lust in the Time of Genesis…” She stopped at his low chuckle.
He raised his eyebrows. “There’s a book called Death and Lust in the Time of Genesis?”
She pulled a face at him, exasperated. “Pay attention, lifeguard. This is no time to become a literary snob. In Death and Lust in the Time of Genesis these words caught my attention—‘The Cure shall face the Disease on the shifting…” She stopped again, fixing Patrick with a hard stare. “What is it? What did I just say?”
His jaw bunched, the muscles so clenched it was a wonder she couldn’t hear his teeth cracking.
“Patrick?” Her heart hammered. “Tell me what’s going on.”
He turned away, knuckles white.
She scrambled to her knees before him, forcing him to look at her. “Tell me.” She placed her hands on his fists. “Please?”
A haunted expression flashed across his face, warping the stoic one he’d previously worn. He closed his eyes and shook his head, as if fighting an inner war.
“Fuck,” he muttered, fists balling tighter under her fingers.
“Patrick,” Fred murmured, moving closer to him. “Please?”
“Tell me who the Disease is, Death. I know you know. I can see it in your eyes. Tell me who he is.”
She shook her head, the fury in his eyes almost scaring her. She’d never seen him so angry. She’d never seen anyone so angry. And yet so…still and calm. Ever. “I… He…” She licked her suddenly dry lips. Why did she feel like the very air around her was alive? Like some force was pressing down on her?
“Who is he, Death?”
She squirmed, the unseen pressure on her body increasing.
“Who is he?”
She pulled in a shallow breath, genuine fear licking through her. This was not right. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. Something was happening. Something she didn’t comprehend.
She looked at Patrick and saw intense fire boiling in his eyes. “Patrick?” she said, but it came out a croak. Was it him? Was he doing this? How? “Patrick? Please…stop…”
Patrick’s eyes flared hotter. And then he blinked, cold horror flooding his face, and the pressure stopped.
She slumped, gasping, staring at him. Her body ached, as if only having narrowly avoided being crushed. She wet her lips with her tongue again, her pulse a rabid beat in her neck. By the Deities, what was he?
He stared back at her. Silent. Motionless. His eyes narrowed for a second and then a ragged breath burst passed his lips and he dropped his head between his arms. “Fuck,” he muttered again, his voice muffled by the bunched muscles of his shoulders.
“Patrick?” she whispered, inching closer. Her heart still hammered, but from unease or concern she didn’t know. “Talk to me, please.”
He lifted his head and looked at her, his eyes normal again. Normal, but tormented and tortured and angry as hell. “I know who the Cure is.” His statement fell from his lips in a flat monotone. “And I think I’ve met the Disease.”
She gaped at him, more than a little stunned. “What?”
“Three years ago,” he continued in that same monotone. “At work early one winter’s morning, I was watching the surf, freezing my arse off on the beach. I turned around and found a man staring at me. A man in a black suit. A man who didn’t throw a shadow.”
Just like that, her spine