Sherrilyn Kenyon: Invincible

When Death offers a cookie, or anything else, refuse.

Yeah, that definitely seemed like the wisest course of action.

Nick shook his head. “I just ate. A lot, and I’m still burping syrup. Thanks, but no thanks.”

The corner of Death’s mouth quirked up in wry amusement.

Kara frowned at him. “You should try them, Nick. They’re delicious. No one makes cookies that taste like this.”

Probably because arsenic was a key ingredient.

He patted his stomach. “Have to watch my girlish figure. ’Cause if I don’t, no one will.”

Death laughed as he handed the tray to Kara. “C’mon, Nick, let me show you around.”

“I think I’m good.”

Completely oblivious of the fact that Nick was highly disturbed by their stygian cook, Aimee grabbed a cookie off the plate. “That’s a good idea. You two have fun. I need to get back to payroll, anyway.”

Mama…, Nick silently whimpered.

Morty grabbed his arm and all but hauled him through the swinging door that led to the kitchen, where two giant brutes were cleaning. One was humongously tall and bald, with dark eyes that missed nothing. He had a tattoo at the base of his neck that looked like some kind of angry bird. The other was not much taller than Nick. His brown hair was cut short.

Death clapped the tall one on the shoulder. “Nick, meet my two companions. Pain and Suffering.” Pain was the big one, and Suffering the smaller of the two. “You’ll have to ignore Suffering, since he’s mute.”

“Mute?”

“Mmm … You know, you should always suffer in silence.”

Nick would laugh, but he was afraid Pain might hit him for it, and since he was Pain, best to leave him be. “Nice meeting you two…” He looked around nervously. “Oh, wait! I hear my mom calling. I better go see what she needs.” He turned to leave, only to find that his legs were locked again.

Death sauntered over to stand in front of him. “Don’t play coy, Cajun. We don’t like that.”

Yeah, and he didn’t like being stuck in the kitchen with ghouls either. Sometimes you just didn’t get what you wanted. “What do you want from me?”

“Normally, it’d be your life and your soul.” He sighed heavily. “Unfortunately, I can’t take either right now. Sucks to be me today.” He slapped Nick so hard on the shoulder that it made him stagger. “I was sent here to teach you.”

“Teach me what?” Dying painfully in a back alley somewhere?

“How to understand augury.”

Nick scowled. “Ahhhga … who?”

“Augury,” Death repeated. “The art of divination.”

Okay, that made absolutely no sense to him. “But you’re Death.”

Death gave him a droll stare. “I know, kid. Believe me, it’s not something you forget. But there are many agents of death, messengers as it were. I am only one. In my opinion, I’m the best one. However, there are plenty more out there able to do the job. Poseurs mostly, granted. But enough that Death can sometimes take a holiday.” He winked at him as he mentioned the title of a movie Nick’s mom loved to watch.

Yeah, Death was a few quarts shy of a gallon. “I take it the death business doesn’t pay too well, so you moonlight as a cook here in this place.”

“You would think that, right?” Death stepped out of his body. Literally.

Where there had been one person, there was suddenly two. Only, one of them now had short black hair, a white apron, and tattoos running down both arms. That person ignored them while he went to the oven.

“Where are my cookies?” He looked around and then scowled as he caught sight of Nick. “Who are you, and what are you doing back here? Only staff is allowed in the kitchen. Rémi!”

Nick opened and closed his mouth like a fish. He pointed to Death.

“He can’t see me, kid. He just thinks you’re nuts for pointing at nothing.”

Great. That was all he needed. One more person who thought he was on drugs. “Morty?”

The cook drew up short as he was headed for the door. “Yeah?”

“I’m Nick. Aimee told me to come back here and introduce myself to you. My mom will be working here.”

Morty held his hand up in warning. “Stay right there. Don’t you move.” He went to the door and pushed it open only enough for his head to vanish while he spoke to the others. Nick could hear his muffled voice, but couldn’t understand the words.

Death laughed evilly. “I love making humans think they’re losing their minds. Nothing else is quite so satisfying … other than listening to them try to bargain with me for their lives. You know, I was once offered my own private island with a harem of virgins and three camels. Tempting, but a ghoul has to do what a ghoul has to do.” The look on his face said he was savoring that memory. Then he hit Nick on his “injured” shoulder. “Watch this.…”

Morty returned with a stern frown on his face. “How did I get my cookies out there without knowing it?”

Death snickered. “Look at his face. I love it.”

Nick cleared his throat. “Meth is death, dude. Lay off the crack.”

“What?” Morty looked at him as if he’d forgotten he was there. “Um, anyway, Aimee said you’re legit. I still don’t remember meeting you. I just don’t remember.”

“It’s all right. We all have—” He slid his gaze to Death, who was still laughing, and had to wonder if he wasn’t imagining things, too. “—our issues. Tell you what, I think I’ve met enough new people for the day. I’m going to go chill for a while.” And have my head examined, ’cause obviously, I’m having a hallucination probably brought on by finding out my boss is a freak of nature.

Now I’m seeing freaks everywhere.

“Good idea.” Morty headed to the stove.

Death slung his arm around Nick’s shoulders. “Call me Grim or master. I prefer master, but Grim works since it reminds you of who and what I am and what will happen to you if you get under my skin. Capisce? ”

“Got it.”

“Good. By the way, did you know the word capisce is actually from the Latin word for ‘seize’? As in carpe diem or, in the case of your nocturnal boss, carpe noctem. Seize the night.”

Nick wasn’t sure what to make of any of that.

“Close your mouth, kid. The cook already thinks you’re crazy. Remember, right now only you have the privilege of my company.”

“Okay.”

“Hmm. The correct answer should be capisco . ‘I understand.’ So I say capisce, and you say…”

Nick hesitated before he answered. “Capisco.”

Grim patted him on the cheek. “Beautiful. You can be taught. Makes my job so much easier when you’re actually intelligent. You’d be amazed at the idiots I’ve come across. As George Carlin so eloquently put it: Think of how stupid the average person is, and realize half of them are stupider than that.”

He had a point. “I try to keep my stupid to a bare minimum, since my mom’s always telling me it can be fatal in large doses.”

“Oh, she’s right. Believe me, I know. For that matter, it can be fatal even in small measures. Remind me sometime to tell you about the woman I claimed who was vacuuming her cat.”

“Who are you talking to?”

Nick felt his face go hot at Morty’s question. “Still in the kitchen, aren’t I? Guess I need to keep walking. Oh, look! Yonder is the door, which I’m going to make use of right now.” He quickly made his exit.

The small group he’d left earlier had dispersed. No one was there except the two bartenders who’d gone back to restocking behind the bar.

Nick paused beside them. “Where’s my mom?”