ancestral line. Will take the role of Queen of the Wayward and preside over the Home of Wayward Souls.
“Well, I guess I have to make the best of things. This is where I am now. The first thing is to get the rest of this change sorted out so I can get out of this miserable looking room. I mean if you see someone is going to commit suicide, do you just bring them here for the evening?”
It was that sass that would carry Mya through her adjustment to her new existence, but as she bent over as the next bout of pain hit, I felt sorrow that her choices hadn’t really been choices at all.
But I was Death. I rarely made people happy.
Mya
My eyes opened and I realised I was still in the room of gloom. However, I felt fucking fantastic for a dead girl.
“Hey, Big D, am I done?” I stared at the guy sat in the chair at my side.
“You are indeed. Also, that is a nickname I can certainly live with. Be sure to say that one in public.”
Laughing, I swung my legs around to climb off the bed. “I want a house tour, let’s go!”
I thought I’d feel different in myself as I stood up. I mean my bones had cracked and stretched during the last few hours, but I didn’t. Rather, I felt how I imagined celebrities must feel after being on those vitamin drips. Just healthy and raring to go, which was ironic given it was the first day after I died.
But I felt free, which in some ways I was. No thinking about calories, or aging, or how I was going to pay my rent. I had a home which was huge. Okay, I had to share it, but Death had said I had rooms, plural. It was going to be bigger than my one-bedroomed flat for sure.
As I reached for the door handle, husky tones rumbled past my ears, “Allow me to lead the way. We’ll do a tour where no doubt you’ll meet a few residents. We’ll stop for breakfast on route, and then you can do a meet with a spirit to see how you get on. After that, you can have some free time to explore Gnarly Fell if you like?”
“Sounds like a plan. After you, Big D,” I did a mock bow.
“My joy for that nickname is already wearing thin, as knowing you it’s likely to stand for dickhead.”
“Whoa, there, Death. Did you actually say you experienced joy because I find that hard to believe, plus the jury’s out on what the D stands for, given I haven’t seen any evidence to support what you’d like it to mean.”
“Let’s go. You’ll need to feed again soon. You must have a blood bag once daily. I suggest you get in the habit of a breakfast each morning. That way, should you become busy or distracted by the wayward, you’ll not get hungry.”
That was a swift change of subject, I thought as I followed him out. I was glad he didn’t have the mind reading skills of my kind—hey, get me, saying vamps were my kind already—because he’d know I was admiring his arse in his leather trousers.
“Hey, I can’t read your mind,” I realised.
“No, nor that of any spirit. You can read human minds, you can read some other supernatural species’ minds, but know that most of the supes will have mind reading enchantments to block this from happening.”
“Well that kind of blows, doesn’t it? I get a skill and I can’t use it. Can’t exactly take a bite out of a spirit either, can I? Where’s the fun of being a baby vampire? Shouldn’t there be discarded bodies I’ve accidentally drained, such would be my newbie vampire thirst?”
“We’re not in a Hollywood vampire movie, Mya.”
“I promise I'll get rid of the bodies,” I mimic Claudia from Interview with the Vampire.
Death sighs and eye-rolls me.
“You eye-rolled me. Death eye-rolled me. That must be the ultimate insult.”
“Now you know where bored to death comes from,” he winked.
For a moment I was actually speechless, which you have to understand was another first. Maybe Death wasn’t so drab and boring as life painted him after all.
You cannot seriously be crushing on Death, Mya Malone, I told myself, while I carried on following him down the corridor, my eyes firmly fixed on his derriere.
Although Death’s bedroom had been dark and gloomy, I’d expected the rest of the house to be luxurious. What