I glanced back at the pendant. "Son of a bitch," I mumbled when I saw the old man was in a living room. I'd missed the address. I began to look around the room for mail. I found none, but I peeked into another room off to the side and saw a desk.

The pendant would only let me travel so far from the person I was watching. The desk was too far. The situation forced me to wait for however long he wanted to sit in the recliner where he had taken up residence.

My phone dinged again. I rolled my eyes but checked it anyway, juggling the pendant in one hand and the phone in the other.

~

Azza: Death says you refuse to talk to him.

Me: I'll talk to him when I have information for him.

Azza: Lucifer says you had a hallucination last night. That robed Death figure again.

Me: It wasn't a hallucination.

~

The man heaved himself out of the chair. I eased nearer to the desk as he walked by. At last, I saw an address. I quickly entered it into my spreadsheet. When he returned to the chair, I took a picture of him, then texted it, and his location, to Death.

~

Me: Here is a candidate who is old enough. Go ask him.

Lazarus: I thought that was why you were upset.

Me: You think?

Lazarus: He said no, btw.

Me: He was wiser than you then.

~

I set my phone down and watched the man fall asleep in the recliner. In a few minutes, Death entered the room and reached for him. The man, as had all the others, went with him willingly. They spent some time talking. The man paced for a time. My stomach had butterflies by the time he turned back to Death. Maybe...

I let the pendant swing back to my chest when I saw the man shake his head. I gathered my arms around my knees and swallowed back a sob. As I wiped away a tear, Uzza appeared before me with a handkerchief. I took it, and he returned to the bench.

After a few more minutes of watching my daughter draw, I took a breath, picked up the pendant, and began again.

My days, and many of my nights, became a blur of ask, watch, note, text, watch again, then cry. I found, on average, three candidates every day. None of them had said yes to Death's proposal. I also located three young people, two Deirdre's age and one a bit older. These, I simply did not share. Lucifer and crew might not be able to interfere, but I could. I felt no remorse.

This pattern continued for about three weeks. On the twenty-first day, late in the evening, I texted the latest candidate I had located. I watched in the mirror, waiting to see Death offer his job to the person, even though I was weary from doing so. Every time, I dared hope, and every time, my hopes were disappointed.

This time, however, Death did not appear.

I scowled and pursed my lips. I picked up my phone to text Laz and found out why he was dragging his heels when it dinged.

~

Laz: I have a problem.

Me: What? I'm sure the info was accurate.

Laz: I need your help. I can't portal.

~

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, and double fuck. This meant I would have to work closely with Death from now on. That, or...

~

Laz: Do you want to portal me around, or do you want to power me up?

~

I clutched my phone, white-knuckled. Had I not been aware I needed it, I'd have thrown it across the room. "Goddamnit!" I muttered under my breath as I paced. I could spend a lot of time with him each day, or I could spend an hour with him and deal with the matter head-on. At least until the next time he needed a 'boost.'

I snapped a portal to Hell, then one immediately to Death's. When I stepped through, he jumped from the chair he'd been sitting in, elbows on knees and head in hands.

"I—I didn't expect you to come. Well, at least not so soon." He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

I stood in the middle of his loft and seethed. My skin felt electric, and my hair charged. I stared at him and hated the fact I was still, even as angry as I was, helplessly attracted to him. "Goddamint!" I mumbled again and stalked toward him.

I had a moment of smug delight when he took a step back. His eyes widened, and he swallowed before he braced himself for the onslaught that was my rage.

When I reached him, I grabbed his shirt and yanked it so hard I ripped it. It made me pause long enough for him to capture me with his gaze.

"Olivia. Please don't be so angry, sweetheart."

Some of my wrath drain away. He had compelled me, and I should be even angrier about that fact, but I couldn't be.

"Stop compelling me, Laz," I insisted through clenched teeth.

"We can't do this, Olivia. What would you have me do? We can't collect anyone with this kind of energy around us."

Inside, I knew he was right, but I just couldn't help myself. "Well, I guess we just fuck then, don't we?" I spat.

He held up his hands toward me off. "Do not come at me like this, Olivia."

I took another step toward him. "Get the fuck undress!" I shouted.

His eyes narrowed, and his hands slowly lowered. His nostrils flared and he flushed. Before I knew it, he was in my face.

"You do not give me orders. Ever." His breath came fast and shallow; he was ready for a fight. I gave him one.

"The Hell I don't!" I lunged for him, aiming to grab his shirt and start the process myself.

He caught my wrist, pulling me off balance. I stumbled toward the couch but managed to catch myself before I fell on it. I whirled to him, but he was expecting me to do so. With a quick sweep of his foot and a slight push of his hand, he tumbled me backward into the waiting furniture.

While my anger made me wild and untamed, his made him utterly calm and focused. He straddled me with ease and caught my wrist when I tried to pummel him with my fists. I tried to buck him off of me, but he just sat on me until all I could do was lay beneath him and drown in my frustration.

"Calm down, darlin'. I don't want to take you in anger." He explained. It was clear he intended to wait me out.

"Go to Hell."

He sighed but still kept me held down. "Are you goin' to fight me the whole time?"

"Yes," I hissed.

"You know, if you are going to boost me, you will have to yield eventually, right?"

I growled and tried to pry myself free. I didn't know how he'd turned the tables; he needed me, yet he'd set things up so I wanted him, even as I struggled against him.

"Do you consent to that? You can fight all you like; it only turns me on more. But, in the end, do you consent to me havin' you?"

"Goddamnit, Laz. Take me, if you can. You need this," I stated, trying to regain control.

"Perhaps. But, I'm bettin', since we didn't portal out of here, this is the path you'd rather take. So, we will go this route."

He rolled off of me then and sat in the chair where I'd initially seen him. Now, he wasn't the worried, weary Death I'd seen when I entered, but the cool, confident Lazarus I found irresistible.

"Get undressed." He gestured at the floor before him, making it clear he expected me to come and strip in front of him.

I didn't move. Instead, I glared.

"Do you want this to be over, Olivia? If so, get undressed."

In a whirl of excited anger, I pushed off the couch and stood where he'd pointed. I pulled my t-shirt off and threw it at him. His only reaction was to get comfortable by reclining in the chair.

"Keep going," he commanded when I had paused.

"Fuck you."

"Yes. But, not until you are undressed."

I stripped as fast as I could, throwing each piece of clothing in his face. He simply removed them and dropped them on the floor.

He spent some time studying me. I clenched my hands into fists but refused to cover myself. I held my head high and dared him to come at me with my stare.

"Go get on the bed."

I ground my teeth before turning on my heel to march to the bed, heels hitting the floor with force. Once there, I climbed up and lay across it on my back, waiting.

He rose and strode toward me, unbuttoning the sleeves of his button-up as he did. We stood at my feet and took his shirt off with care. With the same attention, he slid out of his jeans, t-shirt, and underwear.

I swallowed at seeing him. I was ready for him; I had been since he dumped me on the couch. But, I was still angry, and hot tears formed and flowed into my hair.

"Frustrated, hon?" he asked with a wicked grin.

I scowled and spread my legs. "Come on, if you're coming."

He chuckled, grabbed my hips, and yanked me to the edge of the bed. I couldn't help but squeal in surprise. When he dipped his head and ran his tongue over me, I moaned before I remembered I was pissed.

He was slow and methodical. I both loved and hated it. When he dipped fingers into me, too, I fought not to cry out.

I reached a threshold of some sort while he was going down on me, and energy started to build inside. I began to lose myself then. The world narrowed, and my anger evaporated. When he stopped and climbed on the bed, I was more than willing to ride him as he demanded. I rolled my hips from several different angles as I did, enjoying the feeling of being filled.

"Olivia, come for me, and when you do, call out my name."

I nodded and began to work myself as I continued to feel him deep inside. The power built, swirling, wanting out. I was on the edge, and he knew it.

"Come, Olivia. Right now."

I obeyed. "Lazarus!"

He flipped me in one fluid movement and did what he did best, rough and fast. The power burst through me, and I fed him everything I had.

He drank me down without hesitation, then collapsed on me. Right before I passed out, he pushed off of me tenderly. "Thank you, Olivia."