Netherworld: Drop Dead Sexy (13 page)

The ground beneath me shifted as I left
behind the life I hadn’t lived.

* * * *

I made it to the library, but my
victory was short lived when I realized I’d arrived lying naked on
the table. Just as I’d imagined it.

Dan looked up from the book checkout
desk where he sat perusing newspapers and a couple of open books.
His eyes widened to see me in my altogetherness, and then an
appreciative smile lit his rugged features.

I took a quick look around to make sure
no one else roamed around to see my humiliating arrival. Dan and I
were alone if you didn’t count Miss Gertrude, blessedly forever
enthralled with her book.

I huffed with aggravation. “How long
does it take before I don’t suck at this teleporting
crap?”

Dan stood and approached, his tented
slacks leading the way. I hurriedly drew the kimono on I’d worn
earlier.

“Oh please don’t put on clothes on my
account,” he grinned.

“It’s hardly fair when you remain
dressed.” Still huffy with embarrassment, I slid off the table and
promptly fell to the floor when I misjudged my landing. “Darn it!”
I yelled.

“Let me help you up,” Dan
offered.

I looked up at him towering over me.
Suddenly a memory jumped to the front of my mind.

He stood over me, this dark, cold
thing. The gurgling screams had stopped, and I knew what that
meant, but I couldn’t consider it now, not when it was my
turn.

I shrieked, cowering from the huge
apparition. Dan suddenly knelt in front of me, his arms gathering
me close to him, sheltering me with his sturdy body. “What’s wrong,
baby girl?”

“I remember–” I gasped, looking around,
seeing the library again. Most of all, not seeing the presence of
Death looming overhead. Relief made me sag against the broad chest
Dan offered.

“What do you remember?” With my ear
against his chest, Dan’s voice came out all rumbly. Okay, kick me
for being a weak-butt girl, but I was grateful to have a big,
strong man to protect me in that instant. His broad muscular frame
became a fortress to hide inside, giving me the strength to
talk.

“Something walking up and standing over
me. I saw him hurt someone else and then he came for me. I knew I
was gonna die, Dan. Oh dear God.” I shuddered and remembered
thinking please let it be quick, please don’t let it
hurt.

Dan held me with firm gentleness,
kissing the top of my head as if soothing a frightened child. “Did
you see his face?”

“I think so, but when I try to remember
— it’s a blank. I just remember a terrible presence.” I’d gone
earthquake, shaking so hard with reaction that Dan had to tighten
his arms around me.

“It’s okay. It’s all over now.” His
mouth managed to capture mine, and he kissed me with the hard
assurance of a man determined to fix everything. He laid me on the
thick rug on the floor, his body sheltering me, his lips and tongue
leeching the fear until it ebbed away to be replaced by demanding
arousal.

I broke his kiss with a gasp. “Okay,
I’m an absolute freak to be getting hot after remembering what I
do.”

Dan stroked errant strands of hair from
my face. “Even among the dead, lovemaking is
life-affirming.”

Yes, sex would definitely help take my
mind off that hideous memory. I grabbed him by the back of his head
and pulled his lips to mine once more.

Our clothes disappeared in an instant,
and I moaned to feel him hard and ready against my mound. His
tongue swept into my mouth in a heady tasting of me, and I lost
myself to sensation. He was demanding yet tender, and the
juxtaposition made me wet for him. I locked my legs around his in
invitation.

Dan seemed to sense my need for
immediate gratification, because he didn’t bother with foreplay. He
seated himself within me, and I arched to be filled. “Yes,” I
breathed. I clutched around his driving length, and he groaned to
feel me tighten.

He rose and fell over me, bringing me
quickly. I clawed at his back, and he hissed, his eyes dark as he
watched my reaction. “Do it again,” he urged, pounding into me even
harder.

Warm, bright convulsions rippled
through my body and seemed to feed on themselves. Every pulse came
stronger than the last, turning my groans into ragged cries, then
shouts, then screams. I was dimly aware of Dan’s animal-like grunts
as he drove against me so hard that had I been corporeal, I’d have
been bruised for weeks. I delighted in his bestiality, and a
cataclysmic rush left me shrieking his name at the top of my
lungs.

He let go with a shout that made my
ears rings. His flesh pulsed hard and long within mine, the longest
I’d ever known a man to climax. Dan made strangled noises with
every jerk of his cock, like the pleasure originated from his
throat. I smiled with the pleasure of a woman who’d served her man
well.

My legs drooped from their frantic
clutch around his buttocks, thumping to the floor. He gathered
himself all around me, closing his thighs around mine, wrapping his
arms around me, one big hand cradling my head as he dotted my face
with gentle kisses. I reveled in the sensation of being warmed and
cared for. Safe.

I could lie here with him like this
forever. Eternity with a man like this—

I stopped the thought in its tracks.
Dan was a good man. To me at least, I amended, thinking of the
crime he’d committed in life. Caring, compassionate, and a true
gentleman to a lady in distress. He made it easy to fall into silly
thoughts of happily ever after, protective when I was my most
vulnerable.

My rational mind knew better and hauled
me back to reality. Hard experience saved me from the seductive
peace of lying in Dan’s strong arms. I pulled away before I could
be coaxed onto dangerous ground.

The afterglow of great sex and being
well tended had made me soft with joy. Nothing more.

Chapter Seven

I sat on the couch, engrossed in a
recent book by Mark Twain and thrilled death hadn’t dimmed the wry
wit and wisdom of my favorite author. Not needing to sleep left me
time to read; I was on the second book he’d produced since joining
the afterlife. I had twenty more to peruse.

Dan was studying far less lighthearted
material. I shuddered at the title of his choice, Twisted Paths:
The Snarled Mind of the Serial Killer. He made notes on a piece of
paper the library had kindly supplied him with. I’d been astonished
to learn that when you used the library’s supplies, they never
declined. The building had a memory of its own all right, but to
keep his notes from disappearing, Dan had to tuck them in his
pocket or store them elsewhere. What the library didn’t possess on
the day it burned down ceased to exist in our world the moment you
took your attention away from it. The only contradiction to that
rule was the new books produced by now dead authors. Those appeared
without warning, somehow finding room on the already stuffed
shelves. It was weird but fascinating.

Tristan popped into our midst, and I
stiffened for an instant before recognizing he’d left his vampire
façade behind. He’d become a ghost again, last night’s coldness now
missing. He was a dapper, warmly smiling, devastatingly handsome
human once more. Thank God.

“Good morning,” he greeted us, his
smile sunny as if he’d never chewed an artery in his
afterlife.

Dan marked his place and set down his
book. He folded and tucked his notes in a pants pocket. “Hi
Tristan.”

I waved from my corner of the couch,
and Tristan walked over to sit next to me. His dark eyes looked me
over, and his smile brightened at my outfit: another joyful
sundress, splashed with red and gold tropical flowers. My earrings
and necklace matched. It was my seventh wardrobe change in the last
four hours.

He kissed my hand. “Any
news?”

Dan frowned as he stood in front of us.
“She’s started remembering a little.” He related the memory I’d
retrieved … okay, been waylaid with … the night before.

Tristan rubbed his chin thoughtfully
with one hand while resting his other arm on the back of the sofa
behind my shoulders. “So there was someone else present, probably
killed when you were attacked.”

I made myself not snuggle against him,
firmly reminding myself of his vampire aspect. I had a hard time of
it when he was so darn handsome and right next to me. The subject
matter of the conversation helped. “I think so, but where’s the
body?”

“We’ll have to retrace your steps that
last day.”

I nodded. “If I knew which day I died,
I could follow my usual schedule.” I suddenly realized I could have
checked the date on the newspaper during my impromptu visit to my
apartment the night before. Duh.

Dan saved me a trip back to that
depressing place. “You were reported missing on a
Wednesday.”

“Then I must have at least made my
Saturday date with Cooper Weathers.” That narrowed it
down.

Tristan’s eyebrows shot up. “The real
estate developer?”

I grinned to see his avid interest.
Boy, the revelations I could share about Fulton Falls’ most
illustrious citizens. I bet I could shock even this jaded vampire.
“The beginning of the week is slow. No regulars are scheduled until
Wednesday. I see your cohort on the county commission on
Friday.”

Tristan sighed. “That reminds me. I
have to prepare a statement for when his indiscretions with you
come to light.”

My jaw dropped. “You’re not going to
the press with this?”

His arm behind me slid down so he could
stroke my shoulder. “I’m not that petty, and I like the old boy.
The press will come to me. Because your body has been found, the
police will no doubt be getting their search warrant for the escort
service’s records.”

My stomach lurched. “Oh no. There are
some powerful people on that list.” People I honestly liked. My
death sucked on so many levels.

“So I’m gathering.” He drew back to
study my face. “You’re really upset.”

Upset didn’t begin to cover the
maelstrom of emotion swirling through me. “Lives are going to be
ruined. A lot of my regulars are good men, they just—”

“Like to have sex with a beautiful,
intelligent woman without strings attached,” Tristan finished for
me. “It’s their own faults, Brandilynn. They didn’t have to stick
their hands in the cookie jar, so to speak.”

Maybe, but when you’re the cookie jar
giving out the sweets, guilt comes easily.

He stood and bent to take my elbow,
pulling me up to stand beside him. “Come talk with me for a
bit.”

He led me away. As I passed Dan, I
noticed how his face reddened and his hands clenched for a brief
instant.

I hoped I imagined the flash of
jealousy on his expression.

* * * *

Tristan took me into the head
librarian’s office where the plain wooden desk overflowed with
books and papers. Bookshelves were crammed full until I thought
they would groan from the weight. The biggest surprise however, was
the window that stretched almost from the floor to the ceiling.
Blinding sunlight poured in, and forgetting Tristan for an instant,
I went to it. I gasped to see the waterfront. Wooden ships under
sail plied the river, and more were tied to the docks. Sweating
grubby men moved about the pier and ships like busy ants to-ing and
fro-ing over an anthill. Horses pulled carts back and forth,
gathering goods from the ships.

I heard the creak of Tristan settling
into a chair. Unable to tear my eyes away from the sight, I
murmured, “I thought we were underground. Isn’t the city built on
top of us here?”

“What you’re seeing is the library’s
memory. It’s an older time, somewhere during the mid-1800’s. I
can’t even guess why that scene is imprinted on the
building.”

“So if I went out to the buried part of
the wharf, I wouldn’t see this?” I swallowed my disappointment. I
would love to walk out there, to actually climb aboard one of those
ships with their graceful lines and spiderweb rigging. And to sail
on one! How magnificent that would be.

Tristan sounded wistful too. “You’d see
nothing but burnt ruins of the dockmaster’s office and the concrete
wall of the present pier.”

I reluctantly turned my back on the
fascinating vista. Tristan sat on one of two wooden chairs in front
of the desk. I joined him, crossing my legs. His eyes wandered the
length of my calves before bringing his gaze back up to my face.
Good boy.

“What did you think of my vampire
side?” he asked.

I suppressed a shudder. I tried to be
charitable. “Calculating and dangerous, but you all seem to be a
pretty cold lot. I felt like I was in a rattlesnake nest last
night.”

Tristan nodded. “The hunger is a part
of that, but I’m probably worse than many. I have to be careful,
even aloof. I’m in a position of power with many enemies.” He
rubbed his temple, a small crack in his veneer of absolute
confidence. “There have been assassination attempts. I’m sure I
face many more.”

I could see his point. “It can’t be
easy, worrying all the time that someone might stake
you.”