My lungs expanded with air. I could feel the erratic beating of my heart against my ribs. I was lying on my back, collapsed on the mat, feeling things I hadn’t felt in so long, things I thought for sure I would never feel again. I turned my head to the side, looking at the person who started it all. Looking at the girl who practically dared me to live. Her blond hair was wild, her skin flushed, and every inch of her dangerously soft curves was exposed. Something inside me yawned. Something stretched and moved… I was waking up. Over ninety years of being dead—of being consumed by death… I was waking up. Nothing had done it before. Not money, not power, not killing or having no consequences for anything I did or took. Up until now, I was asleep; I was completely dead. But then Frankie came along. This woman who never shut up, annoyed the hell out of me, and ate way too much candy. I loved her. I loved her completely. And it was because of her I wanted more.
