Death Cursed (Death Touched, Book One)

Chapter 14

Nena groaned. Her head felt like somebody had rubbed her brain with sandpaper. She forced her eyes open and winced against a bright light above her. A soft rustling sound came from beneath her.

Nena sat up and clutched her head as she looked around. She was stretched out on a narrow bed with white sheets and a single pillow. The walls were as white as fresh snow, but a camera with a red eye was a blemish on the perfect picture. There were no windows, but a door stood in the middle of the wall opposite the bed.

A rap on the door made her gasp and scuttle into the corner. The entrance swung inward and Jack peeked his head around the door. He grinned at her and gave a small wave. "Hey." Nena drew her legs against her chest and wrapped her arms around them as she glared at him. His face fell. "Still angry, huh?" he mused as he slipped inside and shut the door behind him.

Nena winced as a half dozen locks locking echoed around the tiny room. She returned her attention to Jack and narrowed her eyes. "Get out," she growled.

He held up his gloved hands. "I just want to talk."

"You've talked, now get out," she hissed.

A sly, crooked grin slipped onto his lips as he put his hands behind his back and took a few steps closer to the bed. "I want a real talk, and it's about a woman's favorite subject, herself."

"Not interested," she snapped.

He stopped and his eyebrows shot up. The smile remained in place. "Really? You are a strange one, aren't you?" Nena frowned and turned her face away. Jack took a step closer and leaned to one side to catch her eyes. "Then we won't talk about you. We'll talk about what you want to know." She didn't move her head, but her eyes flickered back to him. He wagged his eyebrows. "You're just dying to know about me, aren't you?"

Nena rolled her eyes and looked away. "Not on your life."

He laughed and slipped over to her to take a seat on the end of the bed. Nena's eyes widened and she pressed herself as deep into the corner as she could manage. Jack leaned his back against the wall and closed his eyes. All was quiet between them.

Nena studied his calm, young face. He was devilishly handsome, but that pallor of his was-well, too pale. She leaned forward and squinted as she stared at his chest. It didn't move. Not an inch.

"You can ask me anything," he spoke up. She gasped and slammed backward into her corner. He peeked open one brown eye and studied her. "Anything at all." Nena bit her lower lip. Her eyes inadvertently traveled down to his hands that lay in his lap. His gaze followed hers and he sighed. "Ah. Those." He lifted one hand to eye-level and turned it left and right. "My dirty little secret all wrapped up in gloves. His idea of a joke, I suspect."

She arched an eyebrow. "Whose?"

Jack lifted his other hand and pulled each finger of the glove one-by-one upward. "Scratch. It was his idea to 'recruit' me, as he said." He gave a tug and the glove slid off his hand. Nena's eyes widened as she beheld the transparent hand. Jack frowned at his ghostly digits. "He brought back only most of me, but I suppose it's a little useful having these."

She furrowed her brow as her gaze fell on his hard expression. "Brought you back? From where?"

He dropped his hands into his lap and turned his head toward her with a smile. "The dead."

Nena blinked at him. "So you're dead? Like me?"

He shook his head. "No, we're a little different. When I died Death did his duty and took me. Well, mostly. I was a bit of a restless spirit. That's another reason Scratch decided I was a good candidate for his little war on Death."