Deidre's Death - Page 25/119

Both Deidres in one. He rubbed his jaw. He didn't know how it was possible. He barely accepted the idea of being mated to a woman who only looked like his ex. Now, she was at least half the woman he'd spent lifetimes loving and hating.

She was human. No matter how many Deidres were shoved into that perfect little body, she'd never have the control over him she once had. He was Death, after all, a deity in his own right. It was his turn to protect her the way she never bothered protecting him.

"Deidre," he spoke her name quietly.

Her face skewed a moment before her eyes opened. She stared at him and sat up quickly.

"I'm moving you to Rhyn's."

"Why?"

"It's safer there."

She appeared lost as she looked around her. She had the artless expressions of a human, an endearing trait that made him want to wrap his arms around her.

"Why don't we go home?" she asked.

"We can't right now," he said. "I'm locked out of the underworld."

"Locked out?" She arched an eyebrow at him. "You're the master of the underworld. It can't lock you out."

"Apparently it can," he said dryly.

"What on earth did you do?"

That was the tone of the goddess. Gabriel drew a deep breath and stood. He motioned her up.

"Come on," he said. "I'm headed to Rhyn's. I'll take you."

She frowned. "Gabriel, I want to stay here."

"No."

"You never used to tell me no, either!" she snapped and rose, marching towards the stairs to the second floor.

"Get used to it," he called after her.

He watched her angry walk, gaze on her swaying hips. A smiled spread across his face. Maybe having the former deity as a mate wasn't so bad. He definitely liked the look on her face when he told her no.

"Get your shit and let's go," he added.

She glared at him, the blue fire in her eyes stirring his blood.

"Don't forget shoes," Cora yelled as Deidre disappeared down the hallway. Her voice lowered as she faced him. "Gabe, she needs a babysitter."

"What's wrong?"

"She doesn't understand the human world yet."

Gabriel met Cora's eyes. The death-dealer was shaking her head in disbelief. There was something else in her gaze, the knowledge that she'd figured out this Deidre wasn't the same one she was yesterday.

Gods, he had a headache already.

"You want the job?" he asked.

"I'm not sure I can keep up with her. She tried on every piece of clothing today and took five baths to test the different soaps. She discovered the toaster this afternoon. She used it to warm up her socks. Nearly caused a fire."