I nodded. “Yes, like you said, we seem to have common interests. At the very least we can talk about paranormal reads, can’t we?”
“How about I book us a table at Moore’s, the bistro, for eight?”
“Tonight?”
“Yes, why not? Before another man comes along and makes you change your mind.”
My thoughts drifted to Broody, whose body I could still see from the corner of my eye.
“Okay.”
Hottie took out his mobile phone from his pocket and handed it to me. “Put your number in there and I’ll text you once I’ve confirmed a table.”
I saw he’d already typed in Mya, because of course my name was on the badge I wore on my black work blouse.
I typed in my number and handed my phone back to him.
“Excellent. So, Mya, I guess seeing as we’re going on a date tonight, I should properly introduce myself.” He held out a hand, and I shook it. Gosh, his hand was cold. The winter chill outside must have worsened since I came into the store this morning if his hands were still cold now. “I’m Lawrence. But my friends call me Lawrie, and you’re a new friend, right?”
“Right.” I smiled.
We dropped hands. “Okay, so if you want to look over that book and when you’re ready, head down to the desk.”
“Thank you, but I already know I’m buying it, because you recommended it. Then I’m going to go home and read as much as I can before we meet tonight so we can talk about it over dinner.”
I was just ready to head back downstairs with him when Broody called me over.
“Excuse me. Sorry to interrupt, but do you have any books with death in them?”
I stood stock still. I mean there were millions of books with death in them, in all guises.
“I’ll leave you to it and make my way to the cash desk. See you at eight,” Lawrie said.
“Okay.” Disappointment flowed through my veins like a morphine drip, numbing my excitement as Lawrie stepped away from me, giving a small wave as he went downstairs to pay. Oh well, at least I’d see him later.
I turned back to Broody, once again struck by his own mega hotness.
The dude was forgiven for the interruption because he was MIGHTY FINE.
“Could you be a little more specific?” I asked him. “Like there’s death in so many books. Almost all of these paranormal books will feature some gruesome demise.”
“Ah, actually I meant Death as in him being a character.”
My interest level perked up another level. “Ohhh. Like the Grim Reaper?”
“Or just Death. You know, as the hero maybe in one of these books.”
“Death as the hero?” I tilted my head. This was a new one and I’d been asked many weird questions in this store during my career here.
“Or love interest.”
Broody is a weirdo, I thought, glad I had a date with the other hot guy. But, even so, he was still interested in my fave genre and I could satisfy another customer. Just not in the Batman fantasy way my mind kept trying to take me back to. Later, mind, later!
“There are actually a couple of series where the character of Death is a potential love interest, though it’s rare. We don’t carry the titles, but being a ravenous reader of the genre, I have come across them. If you’d like to come downstairs to a computer with me, I’ll do a quick search for you and we can order to the store if you like?”
“That would be perfect,” he replied.
“Okay, follow me,” I told him.
Wait until Cathy got a look at this one. Fingers and thumbs wouldn’t be enough for marks out of ten. I’d have to see if she also turned up her toes.
Alas, I’d find out later, it wouldn’t be Cathy turning up her toes.
No, that would be me.
Death
The worst part of my job was not being able to warn people about their impending death.
I had some control over the situation, some power as Death himself, but most of it was in the pages of The Book of the Dead.
Yes, there was a book. The ancient tome with its faded brown cover sat at home on my desk. Its pages were blank until you asked for information. In recent times, an app had been developed, so now I could bring up whatever intel I needed on my iPhone, but I still loved looking through the original, taking in the smell of the old pages. Death and decay was my thing after all.
The Book of the Dead had revealed that tonight, after her restaurant date, Mya Malone was going to die.
Her death wouldn’t be by chocolate.
Nor the ‘little death’ of a climax.
Nope, it would come via the canines and mouth of the vampire she’d just agreed to eat dinner with.
She would be his main meal.
For someone who said she was knowledgeable about her favourite genre, she’d not managed to notice even though she’d touched him, that the guy was cold due to his undead, non-beating heart. But the woman still had options, because I had a job to offer her.
I just needed to finish checking out her suitability for the post.
She tapped into the computer. Proficient with a keyboard. That was good. An information gatherer. Perfect.
Pretty with an enticing smile.
Down boy. You’re Death. It’s pathetic that you asked this woman about romance reads because you’ve only dated once since you took on the role. It tended to put future dates off. They all feared I was going to take their souls.
“I’ll just write down these titles and authors for you,” Mya grabbed a pen and paper and started writing. Neat penmanship. Excellent. “The ones I’ve put an asterisk at the side of I’ve read myself and highly recommend.” She passed me the list. “Let me know which you’d like me to order to store.”
I took the list and put it in my pocket. “Thank you. I’ll go check them out and if any are suitable, I’ll come back and place an order.”
“Oh, okay.” She didn’t believe me. I could tell in her tone. A resigned monotone from hearing it before. She no doubt thought I’d just order them online after finding the best price. Which I would do. I’d have no reason to come back into this store after today because Mya wouldn’t be here.
“So what was your opinion on Death as a romantic partner?” I asked. Temptation had got too much.
“I enjoyed the book. Death was as good a love interest as any.”
“Thank you,” I said, and then I broke out into a huge smile. She looked a little taken aback. It was true I didn’t smile very often. Didn’t really go with the job, Oh I’ve come to collect your soul, accompanied by a big toothy grin, yeah, wasn’t going to cut it.
“Goodbye. Thanks once again,” I added, and then I left the store.
I travelled home to Gnarly Fell, a village just on the London border. It was a small village with under a hundred inhabitants if you didn’t include the wayward souls I lived with. This was what I sought help with. I don’t know if it was due to a general dissatisfaction of present day life, but an increasing amount of souls were stuck between Heaven and Hell. And when that happened, they stayed at the Home of Wayward Souls, also known as my current abode.
I needed a Queen for the place. There had not been one for many years, since the last Death was in power. I’d preferred to live alone until now—well as alone as I could be—but it was time to look for a housemate. My job was busy enough.