It took Rory almost twenty minutes to calm his racing heart.

Everything about the situation screamed crazy, but he couldn't help but believe Ice's words. There was something about the entire ordeal that just screamed truth. 

"Ah, there you are," a cold voice penetrated the pounding of Rory's heart. 

Rory glanced up in fear as he realized he had nowhere else to go. His back was to the brick wall and there was no other way to escape the alleyway he had wandered off in. 

Jude Bex took a slow, predatory step forward, sniffing the air with a frown. "You've been touched by Death, human. You do realize what this means?" 

Rory mutely shook his head as a dozen scenarios were running through his head. 

Jude offered a none too kind smile. "Pity. But don't worry. Once Death realizes that you are nothing more than a nuisance, I will come for you. The blood flowing through your veins would be such a treat for my kind. It is only a matter of time." 

Rory watched the immortal fade into darkness before he was left alone, body shaking against the hard wall. 

"Why the fuck does weird shit keep happening to me?" He growled out as he forced himself away from the wall. 

He was starting to wonder about the true nature of Ice and the immortals. What did it all mean? And why did it seem like Ice was more than just an upgraded immortal with fancy powers? If he is what has always been...did that mean there was no beginning or end to Ice? 

...

"What the fuck?"   

Taking a deep breath, Rory continued down the alley, keeping his eyes open for any sort of threat. He couldn't quite grasp how he ended up passing out from a supposed nutritional deficit to being marked by Death itself. 

How does one even manage that?  

By the time Rory got home, he was exhausted. He tried keeping a somewhat positive attitude but shortly gave up once he realized Nix was probably an immortal as well. 

Did that mean he had to move? 

He sincerely hoped not. It was hard enough living week by week. He had gotten crazy lucky with this apartment...

Dread filled the pit of his stomach. 

Letting out a defeated sigh, Rory packed a bag full of clothes and anything else he needed to survive in everyday life. He had long since forgone the sentiment of material things so he was able to pack rather light. 

Almost as soon as he entered, he left. 

Besides, his lease was almost at the end of its cycle and he didn't think the landlord would mind him disappearing. 

About an hour later, Rory found himself standing in the lobby of a fairly decent hotel. He really didn't want to experience a night out just yet. Especially since this wasn't the safest part of Charlotte. 

"Good evening, dear," an elderly woman with graying hair and brown eyes greeted the moment they made eye contact. "What can I do for you?" 

Rory gave her a small smile before striding forward and saying, "I'd like to book a room for a few nights." 

The receptionist leaned away from Rory the moment he got close to the desk. "You are marked by Death, young lad. I suggest you leave before you bring about a plague." 

Rory's mouth dropped to the floor. "Sorry? I don't understand." 

"You are marked by Death." the receptionist all but growled. "Take your leave quietly or else I'll have to call security to escort you out." 

Rory stared at her a moment longer, raised his eyebrows, then left the way he came. When the cool night air greeted him, he let out a frustrated growl. "What the fuck is happening?" 

Not expecting an answer, Rory turned on his heel and started another thirty minute trek to the next hotel before being turned away in much the same manner. 

After experiencing this three more times, Rory finally exploded on the poor soul who happened to be running the front desk. 

"Would you care to tell me what the FUCK IS GOING ON?!" Rory shouted as he slammed his hands against the top of the desk. The lanky teenager behind the counter cowered into his chair. "This is the fifth hotel to deny me because I've apparently been marked by Death. Care to explain that, asshole?" 

The boy's hands started shaking as he tried to calm his nerves. "Sir, it's just that Death...brings about death...my manager said to never—" 

"TO HELL WITH YOUR FUCKING MANAGER! GIVE ME A DAMN ROOM BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE!"

The boy nodded, typing a few things into his computer and slipping a room key to Rory. "It's free of charge...sir." 

Rory glared. 

What the fuck had he gotten himself into?