Or maybe it’s getting eaten out by a god, I think, trying not to smile at the thought.
“You know, when you marry Death, when he falls in love with you, he may let you visit the Upper World,” Bell points out. “And if not, he may at least send someone to check on your father. Deliver messages and the like.”
I give her a wry look over her shoulder. “You know I’m going to miss your confidence in me.”
She shrugs and goes back to tapping her hands. “Why shouldn’t I have confidence in you?”
I shake my head. She makes it sound so easy. Yes, I’m now getting fucked by Death on a regular basis, our midnight trysts where I take it from behind and he remains this mysterious force that makes me see stars, have happened for the last few nights. But that’s as far as the progress goes. When I see Death during the day, it’s like the whole sex thing has never happened. Our interactions are brimming with sexual tension, but we don’t talk about what we do to each other at night.
“And anyway, I hope that’s not all you’ll miss about me,” she adds with a bright smile, drumming away.
She’s nervous. Tonight is the night, when the full moon will appear and I have to call upon this Kuutar to get Bell safe passage. If she has confidence in me in getting Death to fall in love （highly unlikely）， I think she has a little less confidence in me getting her out of here. I don’t blame her. I’m a mere mortal, I don’t know what I’m doing here. But I’ll follow her instructions to the letter and do my damn best. And I guess there’s always the next full moon, right? Providing Death doesn’t discover her by then.
“I’ll miss many things about you,” I assure her. “But what I won’t miss is someone listening to me have sex and making notes about it to discuss with me the next day.”
She laughs melodically and then goes back to tapping.
Of course the timing of everything that’s been going on makes tonight’s mission a little more difficult. The weather has to cooperate, which means the sky must be clear, so that we can see the moon. Which means that Death has to either be asleep, or he has to be having sex with me （or just finished having sex with me）。 So, when I take Bell on her escape mission, I have to wait until Death is asleep.
Now, after we have sex, he usually puts his mask back on and leaves before I have a chance to see him in his natural state, or talk to him. He’s not much for the apres-fuck chitchat, and frankly neither am I. But if for some reason he were to stay, that would royally fuck shit up.
Lucky for me, I have all day to fret about it. Time passes slowly, or maybe it stands still, goes backwards, it’s hard to say.
Raila brings my dinner to my room as usual—I haven’t been the guest of honor at dinner since the first time—and I barely have an appetite, even though the cook, Pyry, has created yet another delicious Tuonela meal （birch-smoked pike with mashed fire pumpkins and grilled dusk lettuce leaves）。 I do drink a few mugs full of starwater mead—which tastes like an orange Creamsicle, and is apparently very rare—enough to gather up my courage.
Then, when night falls, the mist cloaking the castle in black velvet tendrils, I lie on my bed and wait for Death. I don’t mean literally, of course.
He comes in.
Takes me.
I don’t turn around, I don’t see his face.
I just submit and succumb.
Oh, and I thoroughly enjoy it.
But aside from his filthy mouth, few words pass between us, and then like usual, he’s gone.
Normally I pass right out into the deepest sleep, but not tonight. The moment the door closes behind him, I’m getting out of bed and slipping my nightgown back on. I grab a candle holder and light the candle, then go over to Bell’s tank, peering in. The candlelight makes her white scales shimmer, the flame reflected in her aquamarine eyes.
“Are you ready?” I whisper to her.
She nods. “I’m ready.”
“So how should I do this?” I ask, feeling awkward. “How long did you say you can survive outside of the tank for?”
“Hours,” she says. “We have plenty of time. Just pick me up and carry me.”
I have to admit, the idea seems weird. I’ve never picked up anyone before and carried them, not even a baby and certainly not a tiny mermaid creature.
She rolls her eyes. “Treat me like a doll if you have to.”
I laugh. “Oh you don’t want that. All my Barbie dolls were missing their heads by the time I was done with them.” Not to mention the compromising positions I always left them in with dick-less Ken.