by Nadirah Foxx
“How can Shade help me?”
“He might know where his employer is,” Addie offered.
“If the need arises, I’ll find the reaper. For now, can we just go to Monte’s?” I had no intention of upsetting his timeline. I just wanted to see where he lived so that I could find him later.
She closed up her bag. “Just a warning. Monte Tayute is one of the good guys. A lot of people in Havenwood Falls like him. If you’re here to hurt him . . .”
“I have no intentions of doing so.” Far from it. I hoped Monte would be my key to some long overdue happiness.
Chapter 5
Monte
Despite Baba’s suggestion that I go home and prepare for what’s coming, I couldn’t do it. Senora’s words made a lot more sense. I should fight for my life. Nobody else was going to do it. If my father was around, he’d say the same thing. Right after he called me a fucking idiot for believing a shaman—Dad didn’t embrace certain facets of our heritage. So instead of following directions, I decided to seek out advice from someone who should know.
I walked through the door of the Dirty Knuckle and scanned the room. It was still early enough for the place to be relatively empty. The being I searched for—taut physique shoved into a pair of jeans, snug T-shirt, leather jacket, and Timberland boots—sat at the bar. When he turned his scruffy face toward me, I knew I’d found the reaper known as Shade.
Rhys Graywalk, the owner and a member of the fae species, waved as I approached. “What can I get you, Monte?”
“Whatever he’s having.” I jerked my head toward Shade. “Make it two.”
Shade smiled. “Thanks. Something tells me you’re not just being generous, though.”
I sat on a barstool and took the bottle of beer from Rhys. “I’m glad you’re still in town.”
“Part of the reprieve from my employer. What do you need from me?”
“You can tell when there’s a soul to be reaped, right?” I lifted the bottle to my lips.
“Yup. Clear as a bell.” His gaze raked over me. “You think I’m here for you?”
“Are you?”
“No.”
“Maybe one of your coworkers?”
Shade’s lips flattened as he shook his head. “Why the concern?”
“A shaman said my time might be up.” Sharing the intricacies of Baba’s vision wasn’t necessary. “Just looking for confirmation.”
The reaper chuckled and picked up his beer. “You might want to see what he’s been smoking. If your time was up, I’d know it.”
Senora’s theory gained more validity. The dream wasn’t a warning of doom after all.
“Another question?”
“Shoot.”
“Ever hear of Madame Death?”
Shade snorted. “Yeah, but she doesn’t work for my boss. Her name’s actually Izanami. She dwells in the Japanese underworld. Nobody for you to worry about unless you have some Asian blood.”
“Naw. I’m Maya. Trust me, we have enough troublesome evil deities.” I paused for a moment as a couple of humans walked by. When they left, I continued, “Any idea why a Japanese reaper is haunting my dreams?”
“Hell if I know. No pun intended. Maybe she’s curious about this world.” He shoved to his feet and reached for his wallet. “Catch you around.”
Rhys made his way back over to me. “Discover what you’re looking for?”
“Not really. Got more questions if anything.” I pulled out a few bills and handed them over. “Problem is, I don’t know where to get the answers.”
He placed his elbows on the bar and leaned in. “Listen, I don’t know your troubles, and I’m not trying to get into your business, but I overheard your discussion. Tonight’s Samhain. Maybe your answers will come with it. If not, it wouldn’t hurt to pay Teeny or even Eloise Sinclair a visit. A psychic reading might help.”
“Maybe. Have a good night.”
The trick-or-treaters kept me busy. Each time I sat down to enjoy my pizza from Napoli’s, the doorbell rang. After an hour of running back and forth, I was ready for a little downtime. Despite the voice of reason telling me not to do it, I threw caution to the wind, hopped on my bike, and went for a ride. Normally, if I’d had a few beers, I didn’t drive, but that night I said fuck it. Yes, I was tempting fate, but I’d rather meet my fate head on than hide from it. The road was clear as I came around the bend, heading toward the Welcome sign.
It was unusually quiet, but that was a good thing. My mind cleared for the first time in days as I savored the cool breeze. Contentment was the best way to describe how I felt, and I put aside the worries Baba tried to implant.
A few more miles, then I’d turn around and go home. Maybe I’d have an easier time falling asleep.
What the fuck?!
My front tire hit a slick spot in the road. I tried staying calm. Nine times out of ten, the bike would make the correction itself. I decelerated, but the usual maneuvers didn’t work. I crashed onto the side of the road. Lying on my back, I glanced around. Nothing but hazy darkness greeted me. I was dazed but not seriously hurt. Then I heard the sound—bullets punching the asphalt.
I blinked a few times as reality set in—my dream. My vision cleared as a pair of high heels came into view. My gaze traveled up a shapely leg clad in black leather.
She was gorgeous, with wavy onyx-colored hair that hung to her tiny waist. Her curves grabbed my attention better than any mountain road. A pair of jade-green eyes stared down at me. Time stopped as something foreign tugged at my heart. An overwhelming sense of peace mixed with desire hit me. If this was dying, I’d succumb to it.
“Not tonight,” said a voice like that of an angel whispering. “It’s not your time.”
For a minute, I was lost. According to Baba, the dream was a premonition of my impending death, but I felt very much alive. My stiffening dick confirmed it. “Who are you?”
“Pandora. Let’s get you back on your feet.”
I knew that name. It hit me harder than the asphalt did. She was the being from my dream.
The woman helped me raise my bike off the pavement. I brushed the leaves and dirt off my ass while my brain struggled to make sense of what happened.
Her bright red lips curled up, and she tossed an elegant leg over the bike seat. “Monte, how about we get you back home?”
Still stunned, I asked, “You ride?”
“It’s been a while, but I remember how. Besides, I don’t think you’re in any shape to drive.” She passed me my helmet. “I’m guessing this fell off.”
Sluggishly, I got on the bike behind Pandora. It felt strange letting someone else do the driving, but my head still rang from the fall. Maybe it was all just another dream. I could just sit back and let go.
Within minutes, Pandora had parked the bike in my driveway. How did she know where I lived? Maybe knowledge came with the dream? Pandora let me lean on her, awkward given our height difference, as we walked toward the front door. Instead of waiting for permission, she unlocked it and ushered me to the sofa.
“Is there someone you want me to call? Someone to make sure you’re okay?” Her muffled voice came from someplace beside me.
“Huh?” My head throbbed badly.
Her cool hand stroked my forehead. “I don’t know a lot about shifters, but I suspect you have a concussion. Where do you keep your aspirin?”
I simply looked at her.
“Never mind. I’ll find it myself.”
Someone shook my shoulder, stirring me from sleep. I cracked open my eyes and squinted around the room. My gaze landed on a lovely woman. Slowly, I pushed up on my elbows. “It wasn’t a dream.”
“No.” She held out a glass of water and two pills. “Take these.”
I did.
“Do you remember what happened?”
“I laid down my bike.” My mind was fuzzy, but I was pretty sure nobody else was involved in the wreck.
“Yes. I found you on the side of the road. Your helmet flew off, so
I think you may have hit your head.” Her leather creaked as she stood. “Do you remember my name?”
“Pandora.”
“Right.”
“What the hell are you?”
“Interesting choice of words.” She perched on the edge of the recliner, crossed her legs, and anchored her gaze on me. “Forgive me for staring, but I never imagined we’d meet outside of my dreams.”
Despite the overwhelming pain, I sat taller. “You’ve dreamed of me?”
“For a hundred years I’ve had the same dream. I’ve watched you spin out on that road a thousand times or more.”
None of that made sense to my addled brain. I had limited experience around reapers. I didn’t think soldiers of death had conversations with their targets before carting them away.
Her foot bobbed to some beat only she could hear. “Maybe I should clarify myself. Right now, you’re confused, thinking I’ve come for your soul. Totally wrong. My visit here is purely personal.”
My eyebrows knitted together—even that hurt. “A reaper with an agenda?”
Pandora frowned. “Not a reaper. Ever hear of shinigami?”
Slowly Shade’s words came back to me. Madame Death . . . Izanami . . . Japanese underworld . . . “You don’t work for Death, right?”
“Correct.”
“So, where am I headed?”
“Oh, Monte.” She sighed. “I’m not here for you in the traditional sense.”
Beads of cold sweat trickled down my spine. “How then?”
She blew air through her cheeks. “Apparently everything you’ve heard about my kind is wrong.” Pandora lowered her leg and leaned forward. “There are shinigami who work just like traditional reapers. Some of them can be quite violent in their endeavors. I, on the other hand, work in a more peaceful branch of the Japanese underworld. I’m more of an angel who escorts souls to their afterlife. But, Monte, it’s not your time yet. No one is taking you anywhere that you don’t want to go.”
“Then why invade my dreams?”
Pandora smiled. “Did you know that shinigami are denied pleasure? As an escort, I use pleasure to guide my marks, but I don’t get to enjoy it. Can you imagine existing like that?”
I noticed that she avoided my question.
“No,” I said quietly. It was one thing to deny yourself ecstasy. It was something entirely different when you weren’t allowed it because of some restriction. “Why?”
“Madame Death says that it interferes with our jobs.” Pandora’s shoulders slumped. “She believes that emotions make us less effective.”
Putting two and two together, I said flatly, “Is that why you’re here? Looking for a good time?”
So the death spirit came to me to get her freak on? Flattering as fuck, but . . .
Yeah, yeah, I hadn’t gotten laid in a while, but hooking up with a harvester? I had a hard time wrapping my head around the idea. After all, she was an entity who dealt in death.
It wasn’t like I had an issue with folks dying. Shit, I’d seen my fair share as a member of SIN, but it didn’t mean I condoned it. And I sure as hell wasn’t thinking about getting sideways with a spirit.
Squeaking, like leather rubbing against itself, snagged my attention. Pandora stood and removed her jacket. Underneath it was a garment that could only be called lingerie—her ample boobs spilled over the top of the sleeveless item.
Damn. Getting sideways might not be a bad thing.
My dick twitched, agreeing with me. Pandora wasn’t there to take me to Hell. She wanted to take me to paradise. Would it be worth the trip?
The sofa cushion dipped as she sat beside me. Her cool breath chilled my cheek as she leaned in. “I’m just asking to be indulged. I want to feel passion for a change. I chose you, Monte, because I can’t stop dreaming of you.”
Her lips brushed my ear, and goosebumps rose on my skin. I drew in a breath.
Pandora glanced down at my swollen crotch. “You can’t deny that you’re interested.”
“But I—”
“Kiss me.” She placed a hand on my face and turned me toward her. “Just a kiss. Let’s find out if there was anything to those dreams.”
Be careful, said the voice of reason.
Death delivered by kiss. For all I knew, it was how her kind worked. But deep down, I wanted to know what those dreams meant.
I cupped Pandora’s head and kissed those sumptuous lips. Her touch was cool, but her mouth was warm and welcoming. The peace I felt earlier morphed into something more like bliss. Pure, unadulterated bliss that erased the pain in my head as my heart kicked out its own joyful beat. I leaned back, bringing the voluptuous woman on top of me. A lusty feeling ignited inside my body, and I didn’t want to fight it.
She moaned and dragged her lips from mine. “Still want to question why I’m here?”
I gripped her ass and pulled her closer. “No. One other question?”
“What?”
“Do I need a condom?”
Pandora laughed. “I’m a spirit. We don’t get sick or diseased.”
“All I needed to know.”
She dragged me to my feet. “I have a question. Where’s your bed?”
“Upstairs.” I growled. “Now.”
Chapter 6
Pandora
He didn’t have to say it twice. I jumped to my feet and raced him to the stairs. We took them at a mad pace until we reached the bedroom. Monte moved past me and sat on the edge of a hand-carved king-size bed. From the headboard down to the posts were intricate designs of outdoor scenes featuring jaguars. It made sense, since he was a nagual shifter. He ran his hand over the silky sheets and then tapped the mattress.
“Shouldn’t I get undressed?” I asked coyly, as I stopped in the center of the room and gazed at the Aztec-patterned throw rug near the bed. A trunk with a brightly colored blanket sat beneath a window overlooking the street.
“Can you leave on the . . . um . . .” His finger moved up and down over my corset.
“I can.”
“And the shoes. Please leave those on.” The request was rough-voiced and so damned sexy.
I snapped my fingers, and my leather pants vanished. Normally, I enjoyed the process of getting dressed and undressed. It made me feel more human, but in that moment what I wanted to feel was a lot more than humanity.
Monte sighed deeply as his eyes swept over me.
I sashayed closer. “You’re overdressed.”
He reached behind him and yanked off his T-shirt, then leaned back on the bed.
I licked my lips, longing to touch his bare chest. Not wasting a minute, I crawled up beside Monte, planting kisses across his sculpted abs. When I reached the waistband of his jeans, my fingers moved over his zipper, massaging his crotch. He sighed again, and I continued my mission as he lifted his hips. With a bit of a tug, I dragged the garment over his muscular thighs.
I glanced up, ready to remove his underwear, and drew in a breath. There were none. I bit my lip and stared at his magnificent stiff cock. It would have made Michelangelo’s David envious. As it twitched, I wanted nothing more than to taste him—run my tongue along the taut skin and . . . Wrapping my hand around the stiff base, I lowered my head.
“Oh, fuck . . .”
My mouth worshipped Monte as if his dick was an altar, and I was an eager devotee. When I flattened my tongue over the sensitive tip, his body bucked repeatedly. I thought he was about to explode when I felt his hands on my shoulders.
“Pan . . . Pandora, stop,” he panted.
I lifted my head, disappointed that he didn’t want more.
He shifted to his knees and gestured for me to lie down. “You said you wanted to experience pleasure. Let me.”
I stretched out on the bed. Odd. The sheets felt cool against my back. I never noticed changes in temperature before.
Monte ran his fingers up my thighs, caressing the skin, and parted my knees. He made a hungry sound in the back of his throat as his hand slid between my legs
and stroked the spot no man had ever touched. I gasped, and my entire body vibrated in response.
The sound of fabric ripping filled the silence as Monte yanked off my lace thong. He dropped his head and explored me with his tongue. That clever instrument set off a blinding, surprising heat within me. I shut my eyes and luxuriated in that sweet sensation for a moment. It sizzled through every part of my body—exhilarating and captivating. Something built within me. My body bowed. My toes curled. I’d never seen Heaven, but if it felt like that . . . The sensation started like a ripple and grew and grew until I was tumbling through the ether.
“Monte!”
Incoherent sounds spilled from my mouth as I convulsed uncontrollably. Then Monte’s lips claimed mine—the taste of myself thick on his tongue. The wave petered out as I lost myself in his kiss, but my throbbing pussy reminded me that the task was only half done.
He rolled onto his back, bringing me with him. I straddled him, lowering myself little by little over his twitching dick.
He exhaled and with one quick thrust pressed into me. For a moment, I remained still—appreciating how he filled me. His enormity stretched me, but there wasn’t any pain. Shinigami didn’t feel it. Instead, I was mesmerized that every inch of him fit.
Slowly, I rotated my hips and we moved as one. He ran his hands over my hips and up my back. My entire body tingled from his touch while his rigid shaft stroked me. He felt . . .
Amazing.
I closed my eyes as Monte pulled me into him. His lips were on mine again.
“Look at me,” he demanded. “I want to see you come.”
I honored his request, all the while gyrating and grinding atop him. With each thrust from Monte, that newly found pleasure racked my body. He hammered into me—a rush of pure need from him.
Eyes locked. Body to body. We moved.