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            Death's hair was changing and I was falling apart.

            I placed my hand against Death's large bedroom window, which I had pushed aside thick black curtains to look through, and felt the frigid air outside through the clear surface.

            "Everything in my life is about brief, cold contact and fleeting faces," Death's voice echoed in my head.

            I ripped my hand from the glass, willing the memory is his confession in the gymnasium to go away. He had poured all of his thoughts out to me, even the ones that I didn't want to hear. I felt like we were starting to swap places, him telling me everything and me keeping things to myself. After Death had found a mirror and looked at the back of his head and saw the patch of blond hair, I knew that the last thing he wanted to hear was that his mother had most likely contacted me through the Unknown. Or, at least, something else was trying to contact me through the Unknown.

            All you had to do was tell him the truth and you would have been able to go right back to sleep, I thought to myself, pressing my hands back against the glass. I thought of the way Little Faith had wrapped Death completely around his finger, how strong I had once been even a young age and how drastically that had changed. Death was anything but convivial from the start and somehow Little Faith -- at barely four feet tall-- had managed to make Death her bitch. And if I hadn't know any better, I would have said that Death was enjoying every second of it.

            He probably still thinks of you as his daughter. I had managed to calm myself and now my anxiety was rising again. I tried listening to the sirens fading and the wind blow against the glass, taking long, deep pulls of oxygen, but it just wasn't cutting it for me. It seemed that nothing in the world could relax a person that was going to be killed by the one person that had made them feel so...

            I slapped myself in the face. Almost instantly, my fangs started to extend from my gums as if readying for an attacker.

            I didn't know what day of the week it was. Or the date. Or how many days it had been since the last time I had seen my family. What I did know, was that if I didn't start thinking up some sort of plan, I was going to be carved alive by the Angel of Death.

            He won't even think twice.

            Death's apartment was hundreds and hundreds of floors up from the tiny streets below, where streetlights reflected off of  a few miniature pedestrians. My vision was so strong that I could make out a man on the streets below wobbling on and off of the curb with a bottle of liquor wrapped in a paper bag. A woman clutching her purse tightly to her side as she walked past a man sleeping on a bench.

            "I'm the sick, twisted, inverted version of the person that I used to be. Maybe...maybe things would be different between us if you and I had met when I was human. Maybe I would been able to return your affection."

            It was then that I spotted a man and a woman holding hands in the streets below. I thought Death and Annona. Her beautiful gold hair. Flushed cheeks. How perfect they looked together.My gaze shifted upwards and I caught my reflection in the windows surface. Black hair. Blue eyes. Fair skin. I was Annona's exact opposite in every single way imaginable.

            "...I'm going to use you with any means necessary, no matter how much you love me, sway me, or how much you want to change me, in order to lift my curse."

            I could no longer hold in all of my emotions. Sobbing, I bunked my head hard against the glass, over and over again. I was a goldfish, that's what I was. I was a stupid tiny goldfish trapped in a giant glass tank that was Death's apartment. Better yet, I was a girl that was unwilling a victim of Stockholm syndrome.

            "Stop caring about me. Stop wanting me to change. Stop trying to get in my head. Just stop."

            "Why won't you just stop caring?" I asked myself. I gripped the sides of my head. If I squeezed hard enough, maybe I would rid of my emotions once and for all. "Stop it!" I cried, banging my head against the window again as I squeezed. "Stop--!"

            A hand caught my forehead, holding me back before I could slam it into the glass again. My eyes caught a pair of glowing green eyes in the window.

            "What the hell are you doing to yourself?" Death was directly behind me, his voice fuming and the heat of his body a lick of fire seeping through the back of the baggy Chicago Bears jersey I had slipped on after my shower.

            I was beyond embarrassed, shaking against his hand. "Nothing," I said. Because I was holding onto my sobs for dear life, my voice sounded alien to my own ears. Of course he had heard me from the other room. I had made an absolute fool of myself once again.

            Pathetic.

            "You were slamming your head against the glass when I came in here. That's not nothing. If these weren't thick windows you could have smashed your head through it. Faith, look at me."

            "I'm still fine," I murmured, shutting my eyes. As if Death ever left me the hell alone. There were probably cameras set up in his bedroom. I opened my eyes once more, scanning the streets below. "Did you call Devin about your...?"

            "He didn't pick up the phone. He's been looking for Gabriel, probably won't be back for a while," Death murmured, fingers brushing against my scalp. "You're lucky you're a reaper or you could have cracked your head open after hitting it that hard."

            I pulled away from his touch, my eyes still on the streets below. "Are there still people in the tower? What about Marcy and the red haired girl."

            "Marcy was taken by Thomas, Faith."

            I swallowed back my emotions. "You'll find her?"

            "Of course. I have people looking for her as we speak. The red haired girl was Carol, the elderly receptionist that I had. She used the illusion of her grandmother in order to protect her identity from you." I gave him a long look in the window. "I know you thought of her as a friend, she still considers you one, and even if you don't want to hear it, so does Marcy. It was my orders for her to look like a normal human being when you didn't know who David Star was, or else I'm sure she would have showed her true self to you." He sighed, clearly realizing how frustrated I was becoming with him again. "Anyways, I already put the D & S Tower under emergency lockdown until tomorrow. Nobody can get in, nobody can get out. Then tomorrow the security in the tower will be tripled."

            "What about Leo? Is he--did he make it out alive?"

            "Why do you care?" Death spat out, his eyes slightly glowing a brighter green. "The next time I see that bastard, it will be the last time he breaths. You're not...you don't like him, right?"

            When I lifted my eyes up to the window again, Death was frowning slightly in the reflection, inspecting the back of his Chicago Bears jersey that I was wearing. "Even if I did, it wouldn't matter," I said.

            "It matters to me."

            "Jealousy?"

            "Feels more like treachery."

            "You're so dramatic," I replied, shaking my head. "Treachery. You make me seem like I've cheated on you or something when we don't even have a relationship."

            In the windows reflecting surface, Death's eyes had dimmed significantly until they were practically two black holes.

      "Enough, Faith," Death had told me as my power continued to explode from my hands. Raw and powerful energy that had turned Shabriri into a human. Power that was turning Death's hair blond. Wounds were welling with blood where his claws dug into my flesh. Blood. Seeing my blood made me feel human again. Claws. Long, black claws that curled from Death's fingers that resembled knives. They were twice as long as mine. Once again, I knew I didn't stand a chance against him. "Enough. I'm alright now. Look, I'm alright."

            As if he honestly cared about anything I did.

            Death spun me around to face him, taking the fingers on my left hand, which were digging into my right arm, and pulling my right arm up in between us. There were crescent-shaped. His eyes went angry. "Stop hurting yourself," he growled, pinning my hands to my side.

            At first, I was shocked that I had subconsciously been tearing into my flesh with my nails, but then I growled right back at Death and started to wriggle under his hands. "I deserve it, don't I? I cheated on you with a man that I've never even kissed."

            "I'm not jealous."

            "Looks it."

            "Stop trying to piss me off. What is going on? You were fine before--we--we were teasing each other and everything..." He shook me hard as I started to bang my head backwards against the glass. "Knock it off. Do you hear me? Knock it off!"

            Worthless.

            "I'm worthless, aren't I?"

            "What? Why are you saying that?"

            Pathetic.

            "Because I am," I said, laughing. "You've even said so yourself. I didn't realize how right you were until now, until I saw those...normal people holding hands and walking outside. The dream that I had before made me realize.... I should have known!"

            "Should have known what?"

            "That the reason you can't love me is because somewhere inside of you, you still think of me as your damn daughter. And you know you do."

            At that, Death's expression fell entirely.

            "Don't you?" I pressed, getting real close to his face. "Don't you, Blanky?"

            He let go of me, eyes oddly vulnerable. "Spitefulness has always been unattractive in women."

            "Well same with men!" I shot back. "You might have fooled Devin and hundreds of other people, but you'll never fool me again with your bullshit story about just wanting to take over Heaven. Your father was right, you do want to destroy the world. I see it now, the determination that you have is nauseatingly in your eyes." I pushed past him, crossing the other side of the room so that his bed was between us. "You're going to kill me, and I'm going to do anything you say because I don't really have another option here, do I? You're everywhere, you're anyone, and you're everything that surrounds me. I used to think that was a good thing, I really did. But the fact that I saw how gentle you were with Annona, how gentle you were with me when I was younger, and then I see this person..." I turned and pointed at him. "The person that I didn't think existed. Who killed Debora, who ruined Thomas' life, who threatened me and tortured me until I was bound to your side. I can see him now more than ever now, and it makes me want to throw up."

             "I'm happy to hear that." Death  turned, leaning his hands against the glass and looking down into the streets below.

            "You want to destroy every single living creature simply because you're too much of a selfish jerk to cry about your problems and move on like everyone else."

            He made a sizzling noise. "That one really stung," he said sarcastically.

            "You're unbelievably reflective and more stubborn than I am."

            "Then get me a box of pads and a Midol."

            "Your ass is the nicest thing about you."

            "That's not what your eyes said when I was naked before."

            "And I hate you!"

            "As I've said before, the feeling was always mutual." Death turned around, his pierced eyebrow raised and his arms crossed over his chest. "Anything else, princess? Hit me with your best shot. Should just get it all out while you're at it. But please, keep the blue laser beams that protrude from your hands away."

            "I hate your piercings!"

            "Baby, I bet you do."

            "You're teeth are too straight and too white and too--too pointy!"

            He flashed his fangs in a low, sensual hiss. "The better to eat you with, baby."

            "Stop calling me that!"

            "If you think I'll stop calling you nicknames, you don't know me at all."

            "Whether you chose to believe it or not, I know you more than you damn well know yourself. I can say without a doubt that you're going to kill the only person that made you feel like a father. And that's not sick, Death. That's...that's--"

            "Monstrous?" Death cut in, arching a brow and coming towards me. "Evil? Heartless? Inhuman? Pitiless? Callous? If you're trying to be vindictive, it is not working, baby. How about we really get to the bottom of it all and state the obvious? You're just a clumsy, horny girl that's frustrated because she'll never get a piece of this, and I'm a arrogant asshole that would give you the whole cake if I could. But I can't. And I won't. So in the end, we're both horny girls that are both sexually frustrated and are both stubborn."

            I stared at him blankly, my cheeks slowly igniting into flames. He had really just said that outloud. I shook myself before I did anything stupid like run and leap into his arms. "I'm not as uncoordinated as you think I am," I said, tilting my head up in a confident manner.

            Death flashed a cat-like grin, doing that slow once over on me with his eyes that made my insides melt. "Oh really?"

            "In fact, I can pin you down for 15 seconds, " I said proudly, flexing my non-existent muscles and then quickly putting my arms down. Crap, that was embarrassing.

            Death laughed loudly. "That's a good one. Listen princess, how about you sashay your little tush over to the toaster in the other room and see if you can push down the button? Careful, wouldn't want my cupcake to get hurt. Don't get a hernia."

            "Wouldn't want my cupcake to get a hernia," I mimicked, dropping my voice and adding dramatic gestures. It scared me how spot on it had been, too. "I'm serious, Death. And I'll bet on it, too."

            Now I had his full attention. "I'm listening."

            "If I pin you down...then I get to do something fun tomorrow. No training or whatever you had planned."

            Death narrowed his eyes. "And what do I get if you lose?"

            I blew out my breath. "Whatever you want, I guess."

            Death arched a dark eyebrow then, giving me a slow once over. "A striptease if I win," Death purred, smiling with his dagger-like teeth. "And something fun for you tomorrow if I don't."

            Oh boy. "Fine. But I'm not taking my bra off."

            Death scoffed. "Neither am I, bitch."

            I rolled my eyes. "I wouldn't be surprised if you wore a bra with your insane obsession with my panties."

            Death looked at me mischievously from under his lashes. "Then it's a de--"

            "Wait," I said, "there's something else I want if I win."

            Death ran his fingers through his fohawk. "If it's sharing our feelings or cuddling, then no. Only if you knock me out cold, or if I'm naked."

            "I want to play Twenty Questions."

            "De--"

            "Except I can ask as many questions as I want."

            Death thought about that for a moment. "I weight twice as much as you."

            "I know."

            "I have ten times as much muscle as you."

            "Clearly."

            "You've never won a fight with me."

            "That's right."

            "I'm a trained, ancient Roman warrior that has snapped people's heads clean off of their neck with my bare hands."

            "Yep."

            "I can bench press a building."

            "Never doubted it."

            "I'm the freaking Angel of Death."

            "I freaking know," I said, putting my hands on my hips. "So...Deal or no deal, Blanky?"

            Instead of answering right away, Death grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and yanked it up over his head, tossing it towards me and whacking me right in the chest with it. His beautiful marked pecs twitched under my gawking stare. "You and I both know that I would never turn down a good deal, cupcake."

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