Grave Intentions (27 page)
Authors: Lori Sjoberg
“Not if you do it right,” Dmitri countered, his mouth curved up in a smug smile. He placed his bottle on the table and made a fast twisting motion with both hands. “One quick snap, and the neck breaks. Do it while she sleeps, and she won’t even wake up. Or, you can use poison or pills if you prefer a more . . . passive approach.” A nostalgic look crossed his face. “There are so many ways to take a life without causing pain. If that is the problem, I can give you pointers.”
With all the blood on Dmitri’s hands, it was a miracle he hadn’t gone straight to Hell when he died. How on earth had he earned a second chance for salvation? It was a question David had always wondered about but never bothered to ask. Dmitri was notoriously tight-lipped about his past; getting details about his mortal life was about as easy as getting blood from a turnip.
“No,” David said through clenched teeth. “I will not kill her.”
“Why not?” Dmitri looked genuinely perplexed. Then his features shifted, as if he just solved some great mystery. “Ah. Don’t have the stones to kill a woman, eh?” Before David could answer, he added, “If you want, I will take care of it for you.” He smiled, as if relishing the opportunity. “I promise, she will feel no pain.”
Temper flaring, David shot up from his chair, leaned across the table, and two-fisted the front of Dmitri’s shirt. He dragged the big Russian halfway across the table until their noses came close to touching.
“Listen to me, you cold-blooded son of a bitch. You so much as look in her general direction and I’ll rip your goddamn head off.”
Dmitri’s expression never faltered as he reached over and wrapped a hand around David’s wrist. His fingers dug into a pressure point, sending spears of pain up David’s arm. David let out a low hiss in response but refused to loosen his grip.
The two stared at each other for a full minute, each waiting for the other to yield. Adam sat in between, eyes wide and unblinking.
“Fine, have it your way,” Dmitri growled, letting go of David’s arm. In turn, David released his grip on Dmitri and settled back in his chair.
“Thank you.”
“I still think you’re making a big mistake.” Dmitri put up his hand and the waitress magically reappeared. “Three Stolis. Neat.” He shot a dark look in David’s direction. “We must send our friend off appropriately.”
The waitress turned to David. “Oh? Where you going, honey?”
“Someplace warm.”
As the evening wore on, it took on the tone of an Irish wake, the main difference being the deceased was very much alive and getting sloshed alongside the mourners. Reapers came and went, buying shots and swapping tales from the dead side. At last call the table was covered with empty beer bottles and shot glasses and David was three sheets to the wind.
“You know what?” David asked, a heavy slur in his voice. “I think I might actually miss you assholes.” He downed another shot, at this point oblivious to the burning sensation in the back of his throat. “Remember the job we did down in Miami back in eighty-nine? The airboat crash?”
“Oh lord, don’t remind me.” Ruby brushed her hair from her eyes, only to have it fall right back into place. “Every time I see an alligator, I think of those idiots.”
“What happened?” Adam asked.
Ruby opened her mouth to begin the tale, but David interrupted.
“Newbie might be too squeamish for this one. You might harm his delicate sensibilities.”
Adam shot David the middle finger before turning his attention back to Ruby. “Tell me, I can handle it.”
“Well, this was a few years back, when we were still covering the entire southern half of the state,” Ruby began. She paused a moment to sip her margarita. “These good old boys were hunting gators in the Everglades at about two in the morning with a floodlight and a double-barrel shotgun. They were using airboats to make their way around the swamp, and let’s just say they weren’t abiding by the rules of the safety handbook. A few beers later they ended up slamming into each other. Two of them died on impact, and the gators finished off the third. Talk about irony.”
She smirked, her fingers idly toying with the thick beaded choker around her neck. “And let me tell you, it was a major hassle extracting the souls, being that they were stuck in the middle of the swamp with a bunch of hungry gators angling for their turn at the table.”
David remembered the day like it was yesterday. Helpless against the crushing bite of a half dozen gators, they’d stayed a safe distance from the carnage, waiting by the mangroves for their chance to collect the souls. The opportunity didn’t present itself until the souls broke free from their mortal shells and rose from the depths of the murky waters, afraid and confused, searching for a safe haven from the chaos churning around them.
Adam’s mouth twisted with horror. “Oh my God. That’s awful.”
“See, I told you the little wussie couldn’t handle it.” David flashed an impudent smile. He laughed when Adam kicked him under the table.
“Well, I got an early appointment tomorrow morning, so I better scoot,” Ruby said, her chair scraping against the hardwood floor. She rounded the table and gave David an affectionate peck on the cheek. The smile she gave him was absolutely brilliant, but when she met his gaze he could tell she was fighting back tears.
“It’s been fun, Soldier Boy,” she said, her voice cracking a little when she spoke. A tear tracked down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand.
“Yeah, it has,” David said, surprised by his sudden choke of emotion. Not because he still harbored romantic feelings for Ruby, but because he was touched by the depth of their friendship. Increasingly aware that this was the last time he’d ever see Ruby, he pulled her down for a hug. “You hang in there. Take care of yourself.”
“I will.” Ruby straightened, closing her eyes while she pulled herself together. When her eyes opened, the swagger had returned, even though a touch of sadness remained. “Call me later,” she told Adam before leaving, her hips swinging with their usual self-assurance.
“Goddamn, that is one heck of a woman,” Adam said as he watched Ruby leave. As soon as the door shut behind her, his attention drifted back to David. “How long were you two an item?”
“A little less than a year,” David replied, his thoughts traveling back to the mid-seventies, when disco ruled the dance floor and Ruby rocked his world. During their brief time together they’d burned hot and bright, spending most of their nights behind closed doors. And even though they’d failed as lovers, their friendship had stretched across five decades. “Back then, she never wore anything but tie-dye and hip-huggers.”
Adam smiled. “I can see it now.” He finished the rest of his drink and set the empty glass on the table. “Hey, I’ve been wondering. What’s up with the choker? She never takes it off.”
“That’s her story to tell,” David said. Reapers were touchy about their own deaths and downfalls, and Ruby was no exception. She wore the choker for a good reason, but it wasn’t his place to share the details. “All I can say is that it has to do with how she became one of us.”
The waitress stopped by with the check and her phone number. Adam tucked the number in his back pocket and tossed a few bills on the table for the tab.
“You okay to drive?” David asked as they stood to leave. The world spun around him, making him question the wisdom of that last double shot of tequila.
“I’m fine. I switched to Pepsi a couple hours ago.”
Satisfied with Adam’s answer, David tossed him the keys. “I got a favor to ask you,” he said as he wove an uneven path toward the front exit and shoved open the door. Good thing they’d parked close, or he’d have to lean on the kid for balance.
“You got it, buddy. Name it.”
David slumped against the car while Adam unlocked the door, then poured himself into the passenger seat. His eyes were growing heavy now, his muscles loose and relaxed and ready for sleep. “I . . . I don’t want Sarah knowing what happened to me. Promise you won’t tell her.”
Adam got into the car and buckled his seat belt. “What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know. Tell her I got transferred, or I left so fast you don’t know where I went.” He rubbed a hand across his face, his apprehension momentarily cutting through the heavy haze of tequila. “I don’t want her feeling guilty about what happened. I’d rather have her pissed off at me.”
“All right. You got it, buddy.” Adam started the car and hooked a left out of the parking lot. “Let’s get you home. You’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”
It wasn’t long before David drifted off, dreaming of the life he’d never have with the woman he loved.
chapter 21
Just his luck. He’d spend his last day on earth with a hangover.
Groaning, David rolled out of bed, determined to make it to the shower without passing out or throwing up. In the end, he was one for two.
After five minutes in the shower and a handful of aspirin, he felt almost human enough for a cup of coffee. When he made his way to the kitchen, he found a glass of water beside the coffeemaker with two tablets of Alka-Seltzer fizzing at the bottom.
“Rough evening?” The voice cut through David’s head like a chainsaw.
He caught sight of Samuel at the edge of his periphery, sitting on the couch with his hands folded neatly on his lap. He looked deceptively civilized, all prim and proper with his freshly pressed suit and immaculately trimmed hair. But if you dared to look closer you could spot the ruthless calculation in Samuel’s eyes, searching for a weakness to exploit to his advantage.
“You could say that,” David said as he loaded the coffeemaker. Since it was going to be the last cup he ever drank, he made sure it was extra strong. While he waited for the coffee to brew, he drained the glass with the Alka-Seltzer. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” Samuel rose from his seat and approached the kitchen. “Where is your protégé?”
“Beats me. It’s not my turn to watch him.” Honestly, he couldn’t remember what happened to Adam after they’d left Shackles. The last thing he remembered was getting into the car; everything after that was an incoherent blur. “But I seriously doubt you’re here to ask about Adam.”
Samuel smirked. “You would be correct. Have you reached a decision?”
“Does it matter?” David asked, making a point of not giving a straight answer. Even though he’d already decided to sacrifice his soul for Sarah’s, he still wanted the remainder of the allotted time. He leaned a hip against the kitchen counter, trying his best to act nonchalant. “Last time I checked, I still had a little less than twenty-four hours to take care of business.”
Samuel arched an inquisitive brow. “Why do I get the impression you’re about to do something incredibly stupid?”
“Like what? Make a break for it?”
A shadow of malevolence darkened Samuel’s otherwise cordial demeanor. “No, even you are wise enough to understand there’s no place on this earth where I can’t find you.” His gaze locked onto David, cold and assessing, and a chill ran up David’s spine. “Have you taken the time to fully contemplate the consequences of your actions?”
“I have.”
“And you do realize what will happen, should you fail to deliver Ms. Griffith’s soul by the appointed time.”
Vividly. David swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, forcing his mind not to dwell on the misery that awaited him. “I got a pretty good idea.”
For once, Samuel looked confused. “Then why are you taking so long to reach a decision? The choice is fairly obvious.” His eyes narrowed as he took a step closer, studying David like a pinned insect. “Don’t tell me you’re squeamish about killing a woman. If that’s the problem, I suppose I could order someone else—”
“No,” David growled, his temper getting the better of him. He flexed his hands, his eyes locking with Samuel’s. “Nobody touches her. Get it?”
“Got it,” Samuel drawled, his lips curving up in a sneer. “Boy, she must be some piece of ass.”
“She is, but that’s not the point.” David flexed his hands a few more times, straining to keep his anger in check.
A mocking smile twisted Samuel’s features. “Aw, you love her. How quaint. Funny, I never pegged you for the sentimental type.”
“Say what you want, but you gave me forty-eight hours. That gives me until tomorrow morning.”
“Very well,” Samuel said, his fingers toying with the silver cufflink fastened to his shirtsleeve. He looked up, catching David’s gaze. “But don’t forget the cost of failure.”
Images flashed in David’s mind, a preview of what awaited him should he fail to deliver Sarah’s soul. Darkness. Pain. Torment and brutality. His stomach churned as he fought back a shudder, forcing his resolve to remain intact, no matter the cost.
When it was over he found himself sprawled on the kitchen floor, sweat-soaked and shivering. His head pounded and his muscles ached, while his stomach lurched in open revolt. Using the counter for leverage, he dragged himself onto legs as shaky as a newborn colt.
“Thanks for the reminder,” he groaned, only to realize Samuel was gone. He shook his head, clearing the cobwebs, willing his body to get with the program.
David checked the time and did the math. He had twenty-three hours and forty-two minutes left before surrendering his humanity. Damned if he wasn’t going to make every minute count.
After the worst day in her entire life, Sarah indulged herself by sleeping in. She’d set the alarm for nine but still woke up at eight, her body long accustomed to getting up in time for her Saturday morning yoga class. She tried to go back to sleep but the phone rang less than ten minutes later, killing all prospects of sneaking in an extra hour of shut-eye.
“What?” she grumbled into the phone, her eyes barely cracked open.
“I’m sorry, were you asleep?” Jackie’s voice asked on the other end of the line.
“Not anymore.” She hauled herself out of bed and made her way to the kitchen. “What’s up?”
“The police identified the second person killed in the explosion.” Jackie’s voice bubbled with excitement. “You’re not going to believe who it is.”
Sarah dropped a Pop-Tart into the toaster and pushed the lever. “Well? Don’t leave me in suspense. Who was it?”
“It’s that jackass who used to dress up in the bunny suit.”
“The guy from the Bambi Brigade?”
“The one and only. The cops said he slipped over the fence with enough explosives to level the entire place. They think he screwed it up and set things off prematurely.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, isn’t that something? Karma sure bit him right on the ass.”
There was an uneasy moment of silence as each remembered the second fatality, their fallen coworker.
“So I was wondering if you wanted to meet for lunch,” Jackie said. “You know, to mark the occasion.”
“Thanks, but I can’t. My grandmother passed away yesterday, and I have a lot of things to take care of today.” On top of her regular weekend tasks, she needed to order an arrangement for her grandmother’s funeral and place an announcement in the obituaries. A fresh round of grief ripped through her, the swell of emotions making it difficult to breathe.
“Oh honey, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No, but thanks for offering.” Sarah truly appreciated Jackie’s generosity, but the comfort she needed could only come from David. Just the thought of him soothed the ache in her chest. It amazed her, how much she’d grown to love him. She couldn’t explain how it happened, but she thanked her lucky stars for it every single day.
A knock on the door jarred her from her thoughts. “Someone’s at the door. I’ll call you back later.”
Sarah peered through the peephole, and her heart warmed at the sight of David’s smiling face on the other side.
“Morning, Sunshine,” he said when she opened the door. Before she could say anything, he framed her face in his hands and kissed her so thoroughly her toes curled.
“Good morning to you, too,” she said when he pulled back, breathless.
He studied her for a few moments, his smile slipping a few notches. “What’s wrong?”
She’d promised herself she wasn’t going to cry anymore, but apparently her eyes never received the memo. “Oh, David.” She rushed into his arms, her face pressed against his chest as the tears began to fall.
“It’s okay,” he said, his hand rubbing up and down her back. He pressed a kiss against her hair. “Just let it all out.”
He held her for what seemed like forever, until she ran out of tears and her body stopped shaking.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest. “I thought I could do this without crying.”
David pulled back a little so he could see her face. He smiled, kissed the tip of her nose. “Nothing for you to be sorry about. You want to tell me what’s wrong?”
He led her to the couch and then went to the kitchen for a glass of water.
“Thanks.” She drank half the glass before telling him everything, from the destruction at the lab to her research being ruined. Then she told him about Pearl and the tears started all over again.
“Oh sweetheart,” David said, his voice thick with sympathy. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. He felt warm and strong, and she allowed herself the luxury of losing herself in the comfort of his embrace. “Why didn’t you call me? I should have been there for you.”
“It was late by the time I got the news and I didn’t want to bother you.” She sniffled, wiping at the tears with the sleeve of her shirt. “Besides, you had work to do. I understand that.”
David let out a heavy sigh. He fell quiet for a long time, making her wonder what he was thinking. She got the distinct impression something wasn’t quite right with him either, but her thoughts were so scattered she couldn’t concentrate long enough to figure out what it was.
Finally he asked, “What are your plans for today?”
“I have to do a couple of things for Pearl,” she said, doing a fast revision of her weekend list of things to do. The grocery shopping could wait until tomorrow, and she could probably make it another day or two before laundry became a necessity.
She looked up at him through puffy eyes. “After that I’m free. Do you have anything in mind?”
He gave her a wicked grin.
“Besides that.”
The grin widened, and she laughed for the first time in over a day. He dipped his head and pressed his mouth to hers, his kiss so full of unspoken emotion it came close to making her forget her own name.
“Let’s go take care of Pearl, then we’ll figure out the rest of the day. How’s that sound?”
“Perfect.”
They spent the day reaching for normal, shelving their troubles in exchange for a small slice of happiness.
They ran errands. Got lunch. Did all of the innocuous little things normal couples did on any given weekend. David drove Sarah to the florist, helped her pick out an arrangement for Pearl’s funeral, and then held her again when she cried. Then it was off to the main office of the
Orlando Sentinel
, placing the obituary notice in time for the Monday edition.
Orlando Sentinel
, placing the obituary notice in time for the Monday edition.
When the sun went down they retreated to the solitude of Sarah’s apartment, sharing dinner, doing dishes, curling up on the couch together to watch an old movie.
He made love to her at every opportunity, using his body to say the things he lacked the eloquence to put into words. Every touch, every kiss, was a treasure to be savored. He reveled in the salty taste of her skin, the husky sound of her voice when she became aroused, the way she felt around his cock when she came.
All the while he blocked out thoughts of the morning after, when the clock ran out and he’d pay the ultimate price for his insubordination. He was determined to enjoy this final day of freedom, to cram a lifetime of love into the remaining hours and create enough memories to last an eternity of damnation.
Early the next morning, as the sun crept over the horizon and the birds began to chirp, David slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Sarah’s slumber. Without a sound he dressed, taking the occasional glance at Sarah’s slack form. Her dark hair was a mass of tousled waves against the pillow, her face a portrait of such total relaxation it made his chest tight.
She stirred in her sleep and the covers slipped lower, exposing her breasts. Unable to resist, he gently eased the sheet down, down, down until she lay completely uncovered.
God, she took his breath away. His heart ached; the need to touch her so fierce he nearly gave in to the temptation. But if he touched her he’d have to kiss her, and if he kissed her—well, he damn well knew where that would lead. So instead he imagined how he’d draw her, capturing every swell, every dip, every breathtaking curve, burning the images into his mind. No matter what they did to him, no matter what nightmares awaited, he’d always have this solitary moment of perfection.
On his way out, he found pen and paper by the phone in the kitchen. He scribbled a quick note, leaving it on the nightstand beside her bed. Then he was off, slipping out the front door like a thief in the night.
The sound of the door closing woke Sarah from a deep, restful sleep. She let out a yawn and stretched, her arm instinctively reaching across the bed in search of David.
He wasn’t there.
What the hell?
“David?” she called out, her voice rough from sleep. As she propped herself up on one elbow, her eyes scanned the room. Maybe he got up to get a drink or use the bathroom. “David?”
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