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Purgatory.

Purgatory.

“And you said we’re not…” I didn’t allow myself to say that final word. Couldn’t say it.

Heath flashed that uncanny smile, the one that sent goosebumps skittering across my skin like an army of angry fire ants.

“Dead, doll? No. You’re not dead. At least not yet. But you could be…if you let the reapers get you.”

“Reapers?” My voice raised in pitch as Heath looked even more amused.

“The professors, silly girl,” he replied with a roll of his eyes. “They either feed you to Death himself…or you escape them. But escape…” He trailed off again, once more bringing a hand up to ruffle his immaculately pushed back hair as he seemed to weigh his next words. “Sometimes death is a better option,” he decided on at last, casting me a firm, unreadable stare.

I shook my head vehemently. “No. I refuse to believe that. I refuse to fucking die here.”

He held his hands up in a ‘what can you do’ gesture. “So you choose to escape.” It wasn’t a question, and amusement danced like balls of flames in his dark eyes. I didn’t understand what he found so fucking amusing in me, but I hated it. I half wanted to reach across the table and punch his smug ass face, but the rest of me knew to remain seated. My sandwich fell to the table, only one bite taken out, and I leveled him with a penetrating stare. I wanted to see his soul, his heart, every facet inside that psychopathic head of his. I wanted to know what made him tick and what set him off. There was something inside of him, something that entered and rushed through me like the breath of winter itself…

“I choose not to die,” I countered.

He reclined back in his seat, his sandwich now entirely eaten, and settled his hands on his chest. He wasn’t as muscular as Beau or even Tanner, but every inch of him was slender, masculine perfection. I could clearly see the lines of his chest through his gray shirt.

“Good.” He gave me a nod that had radioactive butterflies taking flight in my stomach.

What the hell?

Where did those fuckers come from?

“Good?”

“Because you’re not dead, doll. At least not yet. You’re in a place that’s halfway between the land of the dead and the land of the living. You—”

“Between,” I whispered, a bolt of ice shooting through my bloodstream. Shock splayed itself across his face before he licked his upper lip and nodded.

“Yes, between. Between life and death.”

Oh. My. God.

The sheer rightness of his words had my heart pounding and my head spinning. I was seconds away from toppling over and hitting the ground. How could this be…? How could this—

My thoughts cut off as snippets of memories bombarded me.

The car.

The alcohol.

The pain…

So. Much. Pain.

Finally, my world had been shrouded in darkness, and then I’d found myself here, with only vague memories of my mother pushing me into a taxi and waving goodbye.

Was that car accident…?

Was that when I died? Or almost died?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

My head spun, and try as I might, I couldn’t get it to stop. Fear and panic consumed me as I stared into Heath’s dark, dark eyes—so dark, they reminded me of staring up at a night sky devoid of any stars or moon.