There’s nothing.
This body… it looks like me. Moves like me.
But it doesn’t feel the same.
My throat tightens.
Where did this body come from?
Did Death build it from scratch? Is this some kind of Frankenstein reboot, and I’m the patchwork result?
As soon as that thought surfaces, another barrels in behind it—loud, panicked, and thoroughly unhelpful:
What the fuck?
Sirens scream somewhere beyond my already fragile little bubble of existential dread, and bile creeps up my throat.
Me and my three homicidal friends are standing in the open. I’m completely naked. And our not-so-subtle murder souvenir is leaking evidence in the back of a totaled car.
Who gives a shit what Iam? We need tomove.
“Um, okay,” I mumble, snapping my gaze to the three of them. “Let’s just… let’s do something. One problem at a time.”
“Alright,” Nathaniel mutters, slipping into problem-solving mode, which we all desperately need. “One, we can’t leave the body. Two, Skye, it seems like you’re… different.”
“Oh, you bet I am,” I breathe.
“Three,” Talon chimes in, “she’s still naked. Just circling back.”
Cassian growls something under his breath, something that sounds suspiciously like I will stab you, and for a second, I swear they all forget about the we-just-committed-murder-and-need-to-run situation just to look at my tits.
The same ones Cassian so helpfully pointed out earlier.
And yeah, it does something to me.
Terror’s still humming in my blood. But underneath it, something else flickers. Warm. Electric. Arousing in the worst possible way.
My nipples tighten under their gaze and—
Fuck. I think I’m getting horny.
How bizarre.
“Are we…” I clear my throat as Cassian’s eyes lock with mine. “Are we sure I’m, like, actually physical? Maybe you guys can just… see me better now. Maybe I can kind of touch things inside our murdery bubble, but it doesn’t go beyond that?”
It’s a logical question. Valid, even. But the way my voice cracks, just slightly, just at the end, it comes out sounding… needy.
I’m not trying to seduce them. I swear I’m not. I just want to know.
Because that would be the dream, wouldn’t it? If I were still dead but just slightly upgraded. Grim Reaper 2.0. With mymurder trio at my side and no cuffs, no consequences, but able to touch whenever I wanted to.
“Why?” It’s Talon who speaks. “Got a theory you wanna test?”
“Stop,” Cassian cuts in, almost immediately. “We can see you with our normal eyes, not just the altered ones. That means everyone can see you. Do the rest of the math.”
Oh. Right.
A girl could dream.
