Grave Intentions (21 page)

Read Grave Intentions Online

Authors: Lori Sjoberg

BOOK: Grave Intentions
6.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“There he is.” Adam pointed toward a smoldering chunk of twisted metal.
Already, the soul had separated from its body, lost and alone amongst the burning wreckage. He still retained his human form, not quite aware of the fact he was no longer alive.
Adam frowned, as if mentally preparing for the task ahead.
“No, I’ll get it,” David said, a hand on Adam’s shoulder to stop his advance.
“It’s okay, really,” Adam said. “I can handle it.”
“I know you can.” David’s focus locked on the wayward soul. He felt the pull of camaraderie, the need to help a fellow soldier complete the final leg of his journey. “But I want to do this one.”
Adam’s gaze traveled from David to the pilot, nodding with understanding over David’s sudden desire to collect the soul. “Oh. Okay.”
Squaring his shoulders, David moved toward the fallen pilot. He stopped a few feet short, standing at attention. When the soul turned to face him, he gave a heartfelt salute.
“Time to go home, sir.”
 
That night, David experienced a breakthrough of sorts. Instead of shutting down his emotions, he shared them with Sarah. He told her about the air show, and Adam’s newly imposed sobriety, and the unfortunate pilot who died in the line of duty. He described how it had felt to absorb the soul, to feel the rush of confusion and anguish associated with the newly deceased.
It was therapeutic in a way, this cathartic purging of the demons of his psyche. And as soon as he finished, Sarah applied her own unique brand of stress relief.
“Feel better?” Sarah asked later, her voice a purr of satisfaction. She curled up against him, muscles warm and lax.
“Define better.”
“Are you still thinking about the job?”
“What job?”
Sarah grinned. “Then I guess my work is done.” She started to roll over but David hooked an arm around her waist, nestling her close.
“Actually, I think I’m still a little stressed. I might need another round of comforting.”
“Don’t get greedy on me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Although he had to admit, he already wanted her again. Like a drug, he was addicted to the scent of her skin, the taste of her mouth, the look of ecstasy in her eyes when she came. God, he was so gone it wasn’t even funny. The realization surprised him at first, but he quickly grew accustomed to the fact that he was ridiculously in love with her.
It occurred to him then that he hadn’t asked her a single question about her day. Talk about greedy. “So what did you do today?”
“Oh, not much. A little housework, balanced my checkbook, then I went to see Grandma. I didn’t stay too long, though, because she was feeling tired.” She smiled. “She’s so funny. She wanted me to ask you about poltergeists.”
“What about them?”
Sarah paused, gave him a peculiar look. “You mean they’re real?”
“Sure they are. They’re just earthbound souls with a bad attitude. Usually, it’s because something bad happened to them while they were alive and they haven’t been able to let it go. Nasty little bastards.”
His answer sparked her curious streak. “So what else is out there?” she asked as she repositioned herself, resting her chin against his chest. Her fingers played with his chest hair. “Vampires?”
“Nope.” David’s hand moved up and down her back, his fingers tracing the lines of each vertebra. “The only vampires I’ve ever seen are the wannabes who hang out at the goth bar on Orange Blossom Trail.”
“Huh. How about werewolves?”
“No, no werewolves either.”
“Sasquatch?”
David’s chest shook with silent laughter. “No.”
Sarah shifted her head so she could look up at him. She caught his gaze, her eyes going all dark and sexy, and he realized he’d never get enough of her.
Never.
“You know, my friend Jackie would be horribly disappointed to hear this.”
“Well, if it makes her feel better, ghosts are real.” He bent his neck and kissed her forehead. “And demons.”
Sarah gave him one of those skeptical looks he’d come to know and love. “No way. Demons are real?”
“Yep. Although they’re not something you see very often. They work pretty hard to keep a low profile. Like us.”
“Oh.” She was quiet for a moment, her fingers still tracing invisible patterns along the planes of his chest. Her touch was light, smooth, and more arousing than he ever imagined. And as her hand moved steadily lower, David’s blood followed, vacating his brain and wreaking havoc on his ability to think.
“Is there anything else out there that goes bump in the night?” she asked, her tone taking on a playful sensuality. Her hand reached its final destination, stripping the air from his lungs.
“Yes,” he managed to choke out.
Sarah smiled. “Really? Like what?”
Her hand began to move in an exquisite rhythm: not too fast, not too slow, with just enough pressure to set his blood to boiling.
“Well,” David said, voice strained, his free hand digging into the covers. He took a deep, steadying breath, determined to answer her question before he lost the ability to form a coherent thought. “There are things out there we don’t even have a name for. From what I understand, they’ve been here longer than us and have no interest in our affairs. We leave them alone and they return the favor.”
“Really? What do they look like?” Sarah’s grip tightened and he let out a tortured groan. “Are they anything like us? Where do they live? How do you know—”
“Enough questions,” David said, his self-control reduced to ashes. He rolled her onto her back, pinning her to the mattress with the weight of his body. He claimed her mouth and she immediately responded; taking, yielding, reveling in the wonders of flesh against flesh, soul against soul. When he pulled away, she was breathless and flushed, a wicked look on her face that gifted him with boundless inspiration.
“I’ll do my best to answer your questions later,” David said, his voice a raw, husky murmur. He let out a low chuckle as his fingers trailed down her body, leaving goose bumps in their wake. “But right now I plan on making you see God.”
chapter 17
Nothing could ruin Sarah’s mood Monday morning. Not the congestion on Semoran Boulevard or the pileup choking traffic on Colonial Drive. Not even the animal rights activists, who once again picketed the gates at Cava Tech with banners and posters and chants of “Stop the abuse!” One of the protesters rushed toward her car with what looked like blood on his hands but security grabbed him at the last second.
It’s amazing what a weekend of outstanding sex can do for a woman. She felt recharged, refreshed, and ready to conquer the lab.
She thought of David as she pulled into the building’s parking garage, and her pulse kicked up a few notches. Somewhere along the line, physical attraction had given way to something far deeper. He was always on her mind and in her blood, an insistent craving when they were apart and a source of intense joy when they were together.
But was it love? She considered the notion, and smiled when her heart and mind drew the same conclusion.
It was totally illogical. Impractical.
Maybe that’s what made it even more special.
“Morning, Jackie,” Sarah said when she strolled into the main office. She dumped her purse in the bottom drawer of her desk and began the morning ritual of putting on her lab coat, clipping on her ID badge, and tying her hair back in a ponytail. “How was your weekend?”
Jackie grunted. “Remind me why I had kids again?”
“Temporary insanity?”
Since she’d gotten up late—again—Sarah rooted through her desk until she found the granola bar she’d left there the week before. It wasn’t much, but it would hold her until lunch. “What did Lydia do this time?”
“I’m telling you, she’s not my kid. I think she was switched at birth. Somebody swapped my sweet little angel for the creature that’s living in my house.” Jackie walked over to the coffee maker and refilled her cup. “Do you have any idea what she wants to do this time?”
“I’m almost afraid to ask.”
“She wants to dye her hair green,” Jackie said as she added creamer. “Green! She’s fourteen, for Christ’s sake. What next, a nose ring and tattoos?”
“Wouldn’t surprise me.” Sarah stifled a laugh when she noticed the despondent look on her friend’s face. She sympathized with Jackie’s plight. Eventually, every parent faced the terrors of a teenager in rebellion, and now it was Jackie’s unfortunate turn at the wheel. “Oh honey, it’s going to be okay. It’s just a phase. Lydia’s a good girl. She’ll grow out of it soon.”
“I hope so.” Jackie sighed. She leaned against the counter, giving Sarah a thorough once-over. “You’re looking pretty damn chipper for a Monday morning. How was your weekend?”
“Great. I did a little shopping, visited my grandmother, rented a movie.” Screwed the Grim Reaper. Repeatedly. “You know, the usual.”
Jackie sipped her coffee, eyeing Sarah with open speculation. “Nope,” she said, shaking her head. “Not buying it. Want to tell me what’s really going on, or do I have to break out the water board?”
For a second Sarah contemplated giving in to the temptation to tell Jackie everything. Aside from Pearl, Jackie was the only other person she knew who wouldn’t blink an eye at her fantastical tales of life and death and the grim reapers residing next door. This was the same woman who once camped out in the Pine Barrens in hopes of spotting the Jersey Devil, the woman who made a pilgrimage to Area 51 in search of little green men.
But David had trusted her to keep his secret. And as much as she wanted to share everything, she knew it was far more important to maintain David’s trust.
Besides, there were other things she could share without betraying confidences—ones she couldn’t tell her grandmother without dying from embarrassment.
“Well,” Sarah began, a flush warming her cheeks. “I . . . um . . . well, you know my neighbor? The blond guy next door?”
“Oh, my God. You slept with him, didn’t you?” Jackie’s face split into a grin. “You go, girl. So much for being gay, huh?”
Sarah cringed, hoping the lab prep boys in the adjoining room hadn’t heard. If they had, she’d never hear the end of it. “Jeez, you think you can yell that any louder? I don’t think the protesters in the parking lot heard you.”
“I’m sorry, honey. I’m just happy for you.” Jackie topped off her coffee and then filled a second mug for Sarah. With both mugs in hand, she herded Sarah toward her desk. “So spill, and don’t leave anything out. I want to hear all the juicy details.”
“Details about what?” a male voice asked.
Okay, so maybe there
was
something capable of ruining her morning.
That familiar feeling of dread crept up her spine as Angelo sauntered into the room, looking as suave and smug as usual. His casual glance in Sarah’s direction might have been dismissed by most as harmless, but Sarah knew better. By now she’d grown accustomed to the watchful eye of a predator on the hunt for weakness.
“Nothing,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t press the issue.
“Come now, Sarah,” Angelo said, sidling close. The smell of his cologne was unusually strong that morning, overpowering her senses with citrus and sandalwood. He reached up and rested a palm on her shoulder. “From the sound of things, you had quite an exciting weekend. I’d like to hear what put you in such fine spirits.”
“It’s personal,” she said, doing her best to be intentionally vague. She shot Jackie a silent warning to keep her mouth shut.
Angelo arched a brow. His eyes moved over her in quick assessment, uncomfortably intimate. “Very well,” he said, sounding disappointed. “I guess I’ll let you keep your little secret for the time being.”
“Fabulous.” Sarah checked her watch. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m running late for the lab.”
She’d just passed her mug to Jackie when Angelo said, “Before you leave, I require a moment of your time. There are some matters we need to discuss.”
Great. What now? She’d managed to avoid any confrontations with Angelo for nearly two weeks, ever since she ruined his favorite pair of Ferragamos.
“Can’t it wait? Jacobsen is waiting for me in Lab Two.”
“Not to worry. I spoke to Jacobsen a few minutes ago. He has no issue with you being a few minutes late so we can talk.” He motioned toward the corridor leading to his office. “After you.”
Neither spoke as they walked the narrow corridor leading away from the main labs and into the administrative wing, the only sound coming from the heels of Sarah’s boots. Angelo gave his secretary, Laureen, a cordial nod as they passed her workstation and moved into his office.
“I’d appreciate it if you left that open,” Sarah said when Angelo began to close the door.
He frowned, but honored her request. “Very well.”
Angelo crossed the room and took a seat behind his desk. He gestured to the chair on the opposite side. “Sit, please.”
In the name of professional tolerance, Sarah sat down.
“I hear your research is going well,” Angelo began, his tone cordial. “Dr. Jacobsen tells me the team is making great progress.”
“Yes. We are,” she said, holding back a fresh rush of resentment. Even though she got along surprisingly well with Dr. Terrence Jacobsen, the notion of being second fiddle in her own lab still stuck in her craw. It was
her
project. Her ideas, her research, her experiments, and he damn well knew it. “If the final round of tests go as planned, we’ll be presenting the findings to Research and Development by the end of next week.”
“Excellent.” Angelo settled back in his chair, his posture relaxed. “I look forward to reading Jacobsen’s report.”
Jacobsen’s report.
The words spiked her blood pressure a good twenty points. Sarah held back the urge to protest Jacobsen’s name being put on her research, realizing the futility in the matter. So instead she wished for Angelo to burst into flames. After all, it was the civilized thing to do.
There was a long, uncomfortable pause in which Angelo eyed Sarah with obvious interest and she felt relieved that the door was still open.
“I also wanted to take the opportunity to clear the air, Ms. Griffith,” Angelo finally said, a light tension filtering into his voice. “You are a valued member of my research team. I want to maintain a viable working environment in spite of our recent . . . differences.”
Differences. What an interesting way to describe the situation.
“Fair enough,” she said, waiting to see which direction the conversation was heading.
“I wish to apologize for my actions the other week.” Angelo’s chin inched up, meeting her gaze. “I’m afraid I gave you the wrong impression.”
“And what exactly does that mean?”
“Well, I believe you misunderstood my intentions. I was not making advances.”
A fresh wave of indignation washed over her, so strong it made her ears ring. She folded her arms beneath her breasts and asked, “Oh really? And what exactly do you call it?”
“I was merely being friendly. You must understand my culture is much more open than yours.” He spread his hands, his palms facing out in a gesture of capitulation. “I am sorry for any misunderstanding.”
“Culture differences?” Was he serious? “You can’t possibly be serious.”
He gave her an odd look, as if affronted by her reaction. “Really, Sarah, there is no need to act rude when I am merely attempting to mend fences.”
“You mean cover your ass. You know what you did was wrong. If you really want to mend fences, admit what you did and apologize.” When he said nothing, she shot up from her seat. “This is pointless. If you have no intention of giving an honest apology, then we have nothing further to discuss.”
Angelo bolted from his desk, beating her to the door.
“Let me go.”
“We haven’t finished speaking.”
“I disagree.”
She tried to move past but his arm shot out, blocking her path.
“If you don’t move that arm in two seconds,” Sarah said through clenched teeth, her voice low enough not to be heard by Angelo’s secretary, “I start screaming bloody murder.”
Angelo’s face burned bright red, his handsome features twisted with unspoken fury. He bent low, so close she could feel his breath against her skin. “You display a startling lack of common sense, Ms. Griffith. I’m in a position to make your life extremely difficult.”
“Did it ever occur to you that I just don’t care anymore? You hired me based on my research, not my bra size. If the trials are successful, your company stands to make a fortune. I doubt you’re stupid enough to jeopardize that.”
“Jacobsen can finish the project.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Are you willing to take that risk?”
They glared at each other, each waiting for the other to flinch. After what seemed like forever, Angelo’s arm slid away from the doorjamb, allowing her the opportunity to leave.
“This isn’t over,” he said when she passed, the venom in his voice sending a chill down her spine.
 
“You don’t think he’ll do anything stupid, do you?”
Bless his heart, David looked genuinely concerned. His muscles were tight with tension, and he had the overprotective look of an alpha wolf defending his territory. It was endearing and primeval at the same time.
“No, at least not the way you’re thinking,” Sarah replied, trying to put his mind at ease. “I seriously doubt he’d try to hurt me. But he will take the first opportunity to ruin my career. I’ll have to watch my back from now on.”
David scowled. “Jackass. I should have ripped his lungs out when I had the chance.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m a big girl; I can take care of my own problems.” Still, she couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding. A few weeks ago she would have dismissed the notion as silly superstition, but now she wasn’t so sure.
Approaching from behind, David wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. He felt strong, and warm, and she immediately melted against him. “Tell you what. Why don’t we go out for a little while?”
“But it’s a weeknight.” Not to mention she had work to do. She’d brought home the past week’s test results, which needed to be collated, sorted, and catalogued. If she jumped on her laptop by eight, she could get everything entered into the database before eleven.
“So?” His head dipped low, nuzzling her neck, and all thoughts of work evaporated. “Come on, Sarah. Just one little drink. Maybe two.” He nibbled his way down to the hollow of her neck, his mouth hot against her sensitive skin.
Well, maybe she could squeeze in thirty minutes—okay, an hour, tops. But they didn’t need to leave the apartment for what she had in mind.
“I know a better way to take the edge off.” She ground her hips against him and was rewarded with a throaty growl.
“We have plenty of time for that later.” David released his grip and she almost whimpered. “Seriously,” he said as he fished his keys from the front pocket of his jeans. “I’d like to actually take you someplace, so you don’t think I’m only after one thing.”

Other books

When the Moon Is Low by Nadia Hashimi
Darkness for the Bastards of Pizzofalcone by Maurizio de Giovanni, Antony Shugaar
Dido by Adèle Geras
A Summer to Remember by Mary Balogh
Wynter's Horizon by Dee C. May
First Kiss by Kylie Adams
Gone to Green by Judy Christie