*DRACULA VOICE* GOOD EVENING, REAPERS!!

FUNNIEST COMMENTS ON THIS CHAPTER WILL GET FEATURED ON MY INSTAGRAM STORY/ A COLLECTION ON MY INSTAGRAM!!! 

OH MAN, YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU'RE IN FOR THE NEXT COUPLE OF CHAPTERS! IT'S SO FUN THAT I HAVE THE WHOLE STORY IN MY HEAD AND YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA WHAT'S ABOUT TO HAPPEN HAHAHAHAHAHA I LOVE MY JOB 

Here's the link to Facebook group for Death is My BFF!! (JOIN USSSSS!! Link in my bio on Wattpad too!)

https://www.facebook.com/groups/308207282529485/

Twitter/Instagram: Katrocks247

            "Why is it," Death growled in his usual velvety but chilling voice as he stalked a slow circle around his reapers, "whenever I leave one of you idiots alone with the girl, chaos erupts?"

When nobody responded, Death ceased his circling to glare at Wolf. "Was I not clear with my instructions?"

"You were perfectly clear, my Lord," Wolf responded.

Death prowled past Wolf and stopped at Gunner. He snatched a Twizzler hanging out of Gunner's mouth and threw it to the floor, grinding it under his boot. "Are you not all indebted to me for my efforts to recover you from eternal damnation?" Death inquired.

"We are forever indebted, my Lord," replied Gunner, staring unhappily at the fallen Twizzler.

"Have I not been a generous and merciful Master to you all?" Death asked of Denim, coming face to face with him.

Denim dropped his eyes submissively. "You have always been generous to us, my Lord."

"Then why the fuck," Death roared, now standing before Leo and Blade, the chords of muscle in his neck protruding like a drill sergeant, "did I just walk into a goddamn World War III?"

Good God, this was hard to watch. In just five minutes, Death had managed to make the seven masculine men turn into terrified puppies with their tail wedged between their legs.

And here I was, pitifully turned on by it.

Feeling bad for the Reapers and also a bit pissed at Death for ditching me today, I debated on chiming in with something mouthy. Maybe about Death not able to control himself around me lately either. Before I could speak, the Grim Reaper turned his drilling gaze onto Leo. I was surprised that Leo had challenged his stare back. A part of me wished that Leo would say something about defending me and blame Blade, but he didn't.

"And you, Leo," Death finally said, "you've disappointed me the most. I expect better from you, especially because of your incessant interest in Faith."

Leo kept that unflinching expression up. "With all due respect, I have no idea what you're talking about, Your Highness."

Death's jaw tightened. "I think you know exactly what I'm talking about."

Blade, who was still clearly coming down from an anger episode, muttered a nasty sentence under his breath.

Death vanished in a mist of black and reappeared in front of Blade like a monster straight out of a nightmare. He fisted the reaper by the shirt, fangs lengthening in his mouth. "I don't recall giving you permission to speak. Keep your smartass comments to yourself, or I'll carve them into your skin."

The Reapers all shifted, as if they were just as concerned about Death losing control as I was. Whatever was going on with him, it was definitely connected with the Reaper's losing control, too.

Blade swallowed hard, and to my disbelief, he was actually trembling. "My apologies, my Lord. It's our curse, I swear it. We're all starting to feel it."

Death tilted his head at Blade, as if contemplating ripping his head off. "Am I to assume that you are the cause for the scene I walked into earlier?"

Something bad was about to happen. I felt it in my gut. As nasty as Blade had been to me, I had to direct Death's attention away from him.

"Shouldn't you be encouraging teamwork and positivity, rather than worsening the situation with your scare tactics and tyrannical speeches?" I asked.

Death's spine straightened. He released Blade's shirt and shoved him back. As my heart pounded a thousand beats per minute, Death whirled his anger onto me and the room darkened like a pending storm was in the horizon. Our eyes connected, and I wished I could pull my head into my shell like a turtle.

His eyes were radiating with power and hunger. A monster in an angel's skin. Narrowing that wicked gaze, Death gave me a slow once over. Fear cast aside, as my mind went back to the rooftop the night before. When he was shirtless and muscular and intense, and I was obscenely touching his–err–-wings. Then my dirty brain shifted to the moment we'd shared on the couch, how I'd almost given him all of me and cast my morals aside.

Coming forward, Death circled around me once and inspected the equipment I wore. I held my breath and held my ground, as the heat of his body wrapped around me like a deathly cocoon. He stopped in front of me. I realized my plan to distract him had worked––he had noticeably sobered up. That painfully handsome face scrunched up into a look of disgust and his lip snarled. "What the hell are you wearing?"

"The helmet is Tarnhelm, sir," replied Romeo in a mousy voice. "It's a magical helmet that––"

"Can make its user invisible," Death snapped. "Yes, I know exactly what a Tarnhelm is, thank-you, Romeo. But why is she wearing one that's too heavy for her tiny head and makes her look like a Lego character?"

"Excuse you," I said. "My head is a normal size, and the helmet is not that heavy."

Death reached out to paw at the side of my helmet like a cat. He'd barely hit me, and I would have only stumbled a little bit, had my head not tilted with the weight of the helmet, and I completely lost my balance.

The Reapers suppressed their laughs at this and the tension of fear in the air lessened slightly.

Lifting my chin, I stared defiantly at Death. "If you're so unsatisfied with my protection, then why don't you find something else for me to wear?"

Death's face was perfectly flat. "Who says we're going to wear any protection at all?"

The Reapers all hooted over Death's shoulder, and my face reddened at the clear innuendo.

I crossed my arms over my chest. Or, at least, I tried to, but the elbow pads were a little rigid. "Nice. I guess you being a disgusting male brings all the boys back together, huh? Glad to be of service."

"You look like you're about to drive a car into a concrete wall for a crash test," Death said without pause.

That was it. Whether Death's control teetered on a razor blade or not, I felt it was my duty to defend my Stay Puft Marshmallow Man ensemble. "For your information, this equipment is comfortable and practical! Maybe I will crash into a concrete wall! At least my life won't be endangered––hey! HEY!"

Death gripped me by the bottom of my vest and lifted me a foot off the ground. Looking down at him, I noticed a primal pooling in his eyes that made him look more alien than man. It reminded me of Death's corpse at the D&S Halloween Ball. He shook me once and my head rattled since the helmet was so heavy, and the vest slid upwards until it hit my chin, making my breasts squish painfully together and my arms lift stiffly outwards.

"Yes, it is very, very practical." The corners of Death's scowling mouth peeled back from his fangs into nasty smirk. "Now you're an angry piñata."

The Reapers burst out laughing.

"Put me down!" I shouted and flailed my stiff arms. "Put me down right now."

Death turned his head over his shoulder. "Romeo?"

"I can find a sleeker alternative to her gear, my Lord," Romeo said, as if reading his mind, and vanished.

"The rest of you are dismissed," Death said.

Over his shoulder, I saw that every Reaper, including Blade, was hesitate to leave me behind with Death, when his mood was so off. Leo seemed the most concerned, until I nodded my head once.

Once alone, Death set me down on my feet. My helmet dipped over my eyes. I unbuckled the stupid thing, ripped it off, and slammed it to the ground like it was a football.

"That was completely unnecessary."

"You said to bring positivity to the team. They laughed." With an almost smirk tilting the one corner of his mouth, Death pulled up his sleeve somewhat and glanced at his watch. "We have a meeting in an hour. You have to shower and get changed. But first, I want to see if you've made progress today."

"A meeting with who?"

"Ace." He brushed past me and hooked a finger under my vest so that I whirled around to face him.

I hesitantly followed him to the mats. "Why am I meeting with Ace?"

Death rolled his neck, approaching the shelves against the far wall of the gym that had various weapons. "You'll see."

"I heard you were begging for his forgiveness today."

Death paused and looked up at me in the long mirror against the gym wall, and I realized Blade was going to get his head chewed off for telling me that. "I never beg. I bargain. He's the most convenient connection I have who can help you hone in on your abilities."

As I watched him shrug off his cloak, I saw the thick muscle shifted beneath his shirt and noted his fangs were still fully extended. "I don't think this is a good idea. Fighting you right now, I mean."

Holding two swords, Death prowled under a light at the center of my matt. His alien eyes shifted, like a kaleidoscope of green. "Why?"

Ah, F it. "Your mood is volatile, your fangs are like six feet long, and you look like you want to eat me. More than usual. It's probably because you don't have your scythe, or something. So, I think we should skip today's session, I've had plenty of training today."

Death threw me my sword. I caught it fortunately by the hilt. "Stop crying, cupcake."

"I'm not crying. Regardless of my skill level, you're still two thousand years old and can eat me alive if you lose control. If this is a test, it's a horrible, horrible test."

"I once battled against a Lion with my bare hands, in an arena thousands of years ago," he said, dismissing me completely. I really, really didn't want to do this. I'd never fought him with a sword before, and he looked more animalistic than I'd seen him in a long time.

"That's nice," I said. "Can you at least tell me what you offered Ace for his forgiveness?"

"After that day, I was promoted to a higher ranking in the game," he continued, a pride filling his steady gaze. "See, until that day, most of Rome referred to me as Dru the Beast. It was a nickname that had caught on. But after my battle with the Lion, the women specifically referred to me as something else."

"Nobody asked."

"De Percussore Catulus," he purred, his tongue rolling off of his first language with ease. "The Kitten Eater. That was the nickname."

My cheeks burned a few notches hotter and perspiration amalgamated together in my sports bra like a pathetic sweaty ocean of lust. "Uh, congratulations? Must have been nice to be a sex icon. I'm sure you had a ton of toga orgies."

"You think I was a player?"

"Off the top of my head, I can't think of any celibates who go by the nickname Kitten Eater."

His mouth curved.

"David Star was also womanizer," I pointed out.

"According to the dishonest tabloids."

"I bet," I said, thinking about all his duplicates collecting souls around the world. David Star seemed to have no problem finding a new girl on his arm every week. I would know, my mom collected every magazine with the Stars in it.

He seemed offended by my dismissal. "David Star was an image. A ploy to get the world to become obsessed with us. I'm much more monogamous than you think."

"Is that whole ploy thing you just mentioned supposed to make me feel better about you?"

"Let's not beat around the bush. If you're looking for reasons to justify resisting your attraction toward me, you're already in way too deep."

Death arched his sword in a skilled motion around his body, bringing my jumbled hormonal thoughts back to the training. I thought about Blade's comment about me being unable to channel my barracuda as I blocked Death's first strike at me. Metal clashed. We moved around the mats as if it were choreographed, his mismatched eyes never leaving mine.

A dangerous grin ripped free from his glaring face and frame his exotic features like a delicious visual venom. "Your footwork has improved."

"Uh, thanks."

We continued this adrenaline filled dance for another minute or so, until the real fighting began. Death came at me again with his blade in various movements, and I struggled to keep him off of me. My arms felt heavy from all my training.

"Stay focused," Death muttered.

"I am."

Suddenly he moved faster than usual. Metal whistled through the air. I saw the blood before I felt the pain. It gushed down my bicep like a river and splattered the mats. Panic took over. My heart slammed into my ribs. I wished for the reapers to return. I covered the wound momentarily with my palm and stared up at Death in horror. He was breathing hard, the catlike tilt to his irises violently stuttering. Jesus Christ. He looked positively monstrous.

"Death," I said as calmly as possible. "I really think we should stop."

His expression was distant. "Stay focused."

A horrible feeling settled over me, as I realized he was talking to himself. I thought back to Blade's comment about Death's scythe effecting the Reaper's inner beast.

Death lunged for another attack. Metal clashed against metal. The monster laughed and counteracted my attack, finally knocking the sword out of my hand like the toothpick it truly was against him. His gloved hand gripped my forearm in a vice grip, his other around my throat, and I watched his eyes were consumed in darkness. The comfort of this just being another training session abandoned me and raw fear took over. This became an actual life and death situation against an enemy.

"Death!" I choked out. "Death, you're losing control!"

"Then stop me," he purred out, his mouth nearing mine as he inhaled. "I can taste your fear."

His fingers gripped my jaw, prying it open. His power seeped into my like a hot oil, and I sunk into it. His magnetic influence. I imagined Death ripping my essence from my body like this, ending my life just like that, and something triggered inside of me. A will to live. The barracuda burned on my arm. Light cast across Death's face as if my eyes were glowing. Shock rippled across his expression, and I took that opportunity to strike. My fist fired into his face. A blinding light ensued and the stench of burning flesh filled the room.

Death released a bestial noise and reared back, clutching his cheek where the outline of my knuckles was engraved were engraved his face like a branding iron's mark.

I looked down at my hands in horror. A blueish white fire licked up the length of my fingers. Turning my head up, I saw that Death had sobered up and was grinning like a cat. He cracked his neck to the side. Shadows expelled from his body, like snakes. I kept my hand up and imagined a shield around myself. His darkness hit my light like a wall, recoiling back with hisses.

"That's my girl," Death said, slinking toward me. He was nearly obscured by his darkness, a mighty creature of the night firing everything he had at me. "See, you don't need a weapon." Now he stood directly in front of me, just beyond the barrier of my light. "You are the weapon."

THANKS FOR READING!!! FUNNIEST COMMENTS ON THIS CHAPTER WILL GET FEATURED ON MY INSTAGRAM STORY/ A COLLECTION ON MY INSTAGRAM!!! LOL! XOXO GOSSIP KAT

ARE YOU STILL NOT A MEMBER OF THE DIMBFF GROUP YET?????? BRUH, YOU ARE MISSING OUT!!!! 

Here's the link to Facebook group for Death is My BFF!! (JOIN USSSSS!! Link in my bio on Wattpad too!)

https://www.facebook.com/groups/308207282529485/

Twitter/Instagram: Katrocks247

https://youtu.be/aTLbClFfgvc