Page 58 of Reapers Don’t Ride

“Only if your life is at risk.”

He grunted. “If your life’s at risk.”

“I have no life. Just a ferret and…” I pulled out the box and turned towards him. I’d told him he couldn’t love me, so how could I give him the cake? “For our cover,” I said slowly.

His eyes glimmered as he took two steps and was right there, within reach. “Of course. We can take it downstairs and you can give it to me in front of everyone. I can tell you that you’re too precious and should have forgotten about the cake and saved your life instead. Then everyone can agree with me, and we can all eat the cake.”

“Oh. You want to give the cake I made to everyone?”

“I want,” he murmured, moving close enough in spite of the cake between us his nose brushed mine. “To find a demon and destroy him forever. And I want you with me when we do it. No one knows how to destroy a demon like you.” He gave me a slight smile, tugged the cake out of my hands and opened the box.

We both looked in at the golden, fluffy cake that had been so difficult to make, but something was wrong.

“What happened to it?” I asked, peering inside the box at the flat, lopsided thing.

“What kind of cake is it?” he asked, frowning down at it with me.

“Angel food cake.”

“Ah. It looks perfect.”

I scowled at him and went to pull the box out of his hands. All of that effort to protect it, but it had still gotten ruined. It must have collapsed when I swung around to keep it out of their reach. Kesti had warned me about that.

He turned, blocking me with his shoulder, and then picked out a huge chunk with his fingers and ate it.

I froze while he ate, feeling so strange, all raw nerves and bated breath as he chewed the cake I’d made with my own two hands.

He swallowed and then nodded. “This is the best angel food cake I’ve ever had.” He then took another chunk with his fingers and ate it without chewing.

“It’s terrible,” I said, frowning at him.

He took another chunk. “Terribly perfect.” He ate it and gave me a closed-mouth smile that made my elbows tingle. Then he took a chunk and placed it against my lips.

I smelled his skin and opened my mouth automatically, before I realized what he was doing. The taste of sugar and angel melted on my tongue in a dazzling swirl of delightful pleasure that had me stumbling away from him.

“I don’t eat cake,” I said, as cold as I could while my throat felt choked and my mouth wanted more of him.

He cocked his head as he studied me. “Then what can I make you for your birthday?”

“I don’t have a birthday.”

“Then I’ll pick a date at random to celebrate your existence.”

I made a face at him and edged towards the door. “You said that you’d stopped.”

“For the cover. Your apparent devotion must be at least matched by mine. We wouldn’t want a soulless undead monster to be more demonstrably constant and caring, loyal and giving than the angel.”

I rolled my eyes and started for the door, but he was right. I stopped and turned to say, “Actually, after I get glasses, you can get me books. Then you’ll have gotten me books and the ability to read them. That’s far better than a sugary treat without any substance. Never fear. The angel will always win.”