Netherworld: Drop Dead Sexy

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Netherworld: Drop Dead Sexy Page 21

by Tracy St. John


  I wondered why my funeral wasn’t more of a local media circus, especially with Tristan attached to it. “There aren’t any cameras. No one is here from the television stations.”

  Dan quirked a smile. He looked pleased. “Tristan wouldn’t allow it. He almost didn’t let any of the media attend.”

  Interesting. I fell quiet to think about that and listen to Tristan eulogize me.

  He did a fine job, in my opinion. His mellow voice rolled through the room, soothing the edges of my ragged nerves. “Though I did not have the opportunity to know Brandilynn Payson in life, I have spoken to those who knew her best. The media has seized on the more sensational aspects of her life and her tragic passing, but to those who had the pleasure of her company speak of a warm, caring individual who deserved so much more than fate saw fit to give her.”

  I glanced at Martin, who nodded slowly, tears sparkling down his wrinkled cheeks. “Wowsers, it sucks I had to die to hear nice things said about me,” I said, trying to distract myself from a fresh wave of pain.

  Dan squeezed my hand. “That’s the way it goes unfortunately.”

  Tristan went on, describing me as funny, effervescent with kindness, and a whole bunch of other first-rate qualities until he made me sound like Mother Theresa’s twin sister. Did he really think those things about me?

  I said, “You know, I half expected him to take the opportunity to further his own agenda, make himself look good for the press.”

  “Tonight isn’t about him, it’s about you.”

  As warm and fuzzy as Tristan made me feel, I was determined to expose any hidden scheme. “He let some media in.”

  Dan’s tone was firm. “Only in hopes they would give your memory a break. He wants them to stop dragging you through the mud, so to speak.”

  Tristan defended me. Like a protective boyfriend. Like someone who really cared. I struggled against tears again. Crybaby Brandilynn. “I need to stop being so mean about him being a bloodsucker.”

  His voice deliberately noncommittal, Dan said, “If he wasn’t a vampire I don’t think I’d stand a chance.”

  I didn’t have a response for that. If I could choose one over the other and Tristan wasn’t a vampire, who would I pick? I honestly had no idea.

  Tristan wrapped up his remarks. An Episcopalian priest took his place at the podium to offer up a short prayer, asking God to accept me in His warm forgiving embrace. No bright light transported me away to a set of pearly gates, and the service ended. People headed towards the door.

  Dan said apologetically, “This is going to be it for a service. You’ll be interred at Fulton Falls Cemetery. Tristan has a very nice headstone ordered for you. It’s got hearts and angels, I understand.”

  “That’s fine. This was nicer than I expected.” Which was true. Best of all, I’d gotten through with a minimum of tears and no hysterics. I felt proud of myself.

  The room had nearly emptied when I saw a young woman rise from an armchair in the far corner of the room. She walked slowly to my casket, her sensible heels sinking slightly into the plush carpeting. Her red hair, the exact same shade as mine, was pulled back in a chignon. Her pretty face was drawn, and dark half-moons no makeup could cover were imprinted under her blue eyes.

  I appeared in front of her without consciously attempting to transport. When her trembling hand touched my casket, I tried to slap it away, my hand passing right through her wrist. She didn’t react, her eyes faraway as she gazed at the pristine whiteness of my coffin.

  Knowing she couldn’t hear me didn’t keep me from yelling, “What are you doing here?”

  Dan dashed across the room as soon as he figured out where I’d materialized. “Who is she, Brandilynn? She looks just like you.”

  “It’s my sister Ashley.” I turned on him, needing someone to yell at, someone who could hear me. “How come she’s here?”

  Dan rubbed my back in an effort to comfort me. “Apparently she came to say goodbye.”

  “We already did that!” I turned to scream in my sister’s face. “Why are you here? Huh? You answer me!”

  Dan gripped my shoulder. “Brandilynn—”

  I stomped, rage exploding from me, seeking to devastate something, anything. “She never went against one single thing my parents ever wanted. She got her degree, followed the right career, married the right man and had perfect children.” I was more furious than I’d ever been, but darn it, I couldn’t confront her. “You’re not supposed to be here!”

  Ashley turned away from my casket, her face a mirror image of mine, except she was morose and I was mad. She walked away from me, heading for the door.

  I faced a worried Dan. “She was as miserable as me, but she never said boo to a thing they wanted, and when they disowned me she didn’t say boo to that either!”

  I stormed after my sister, yelling all the way. “Do they know you’re here? I bet they don’t, Miss Perfect. How dare you show up now when it’s too late. How dare you!”

  Ashley left the room, not hearing a single word I’d said. Leaving me alone, without family once more.

  A terrible cawing sound eclipsed the piped-in orchestral music. It ratcheted through the room in ear-splitting heaves. It took several seconds before I realized the sound came from me. I sobbed in big, ugly bellows, anguish eclipsing the anger that had overcome me. I sank to the floor, my body shaking with violent grief.

  I was dimly aware Lana and Yelena had joined me and Dan in the now otherwise empty room.

  Yelena’s soft trill sounded as sweet as spring rain, but it couldn’t wash away my sorrow. “We could hear her in the lobby, Dan. Is there anything I can do?”

  Lana snuffled tears in gentle counterpoint to my harsher cries. “Poor Brandilynn. I’m so sorry, honey.”

  Yelena: “I could cast a calming spell if you like.”

  Dan’s voice was thick. “Let her get it out. She’s overdue.”

  I tried to sick it up, all the loneliness and the pain of rejection. It overwhelmed, sucking me down a painful piece at a time like a black hole in my gut. As hard as I tried to exorcise the torment, it only seemed to grow. It pulled me away from the warmth of the surrounding people, clutching me in the jagged claws of hell. And it was getting worse.

  Something besides grief had me. Suddenly terrified, I reached for the perfectly manicured hand of Yelena, as if she could yank me free of the rending draw of whatever had caught me.

  “Something’s not right,” she cried, and began muttering like a charismatic preacher speaking tongues.

  Whatever she was doing, it didn’t work. The pain increased, and the cloying layers of flowers and potpourri were replaced by the smell of dank dead things. The room began to smear in the telltale wash of transport.

  Dan’s cry rang in my ears, but it somehow sounded far away. “Brandilynn!”

  Yelena’s speech grew louder, more intense, and the pain abruptly abated. Dan’s strong arms folded around me, and he drew me to my feet, clasping me hard to his chest. “What happened?” he yelled.

  Yelena drew a shaking breath. “Someone was trying to take her away. A portal was opened to pull her to another location.”

  “Where?” I asked, my voice raspy from spent emotion.

  Yelena’s pretty face was pinched with anger. “I don’t know that. As for the who, my bet is the witch Erica Ford.”

  Lana waved a hand in front of her nose. “Ew, it smells like a gator’s butt in here.”

  Yelena stared at her. I didn’t know if it was from the shock of doing witchy battle or Lana’s lowbrow statement that made her look affronted.

  Lana blushed. “You know, all marshy and green?” When Yelena continued to look at her as if she’d just picked her nose in public, Lana waved her off. “Nevermind. I’ll go get Tristan. He’ll want to know what’s going on.”

  Lana bustled off. I burrowed against Dan, reeling from my near abduction.

  My Marlboro Man held me tighter than ever. “Can you do anything to keep her safe?” he ask
ed Yelena.

  She nodded. “I’ll cast a protection spell and give Brandilynn the means to strengthen it if needed. She’ll be safest in a warded location like the library or hotel though.”

  “Meet us at the library.” It was an order, not a request, letting me know how upset Dan was.

  Relief washed over me when he took me to the safety of the library. Some forms of popularity are definitely not cool.

  * * * *

  A couple hours later, I was antsy and bored silly. Even Sudoku couldn’t keep my attention. After the emotional turmoil of the funeral and the attempted abduction, I just couldn’t stay still. The library, as vast as it was, closed in on me.

  I needed a distraction bad. I knew of one way to keep my mind and body occupied. So I slunk up to the check-out desk where Dan read, wearing nothing but dangling hoop earrings, stiletto heels, and a hopeful smile.

  “Whatcha reading?” I purred.

  Dan glanced up as I approached, looked back down at his book, then jerked his head back up in the fastest double-take I’ve ever seen. Oh yeah. I still got it.

  “Goddamn — I mean, good gosh, Brandilynn. Bored, baby?” His eyes were as big as dinner plates, and he set aside that book in record time.

  “A little. A lot.” I rounded the desk and had a look at his lap. Dan’s not-so-little soldier saluted me admirably. He moved the chair back so I could sit on the edge of the desk in front of him. I planted an insanely high heel on each arm of his leather chair, giving him a clear view all the way to heaven.

  His grin threatened to wrap around to the back of his head. “Let’s see what I can do to occupy your time.”

  Dan slid the wheeled chair forward, his face exactly where I needed it to be. He took a nice, slow lick up my slit. My head rocked back and I groaned my pleasure to the ceiling. I was dizzy with pleasure as his tongue slid over my clit, bringing that nubbin to attention. Oh sir, yes sir.

  Diligent Dan worked hard to catch every drop of honey I offered, flicking my clit from time to time to renew the supply. The air trembled with my whimpers and sighs as he delighted my secret flesh. That man owned a talented tongue, and I reaped the benefits of his cleverness for quite awhile before Dan got to his feet.

  He was swollen like a battering ram fit to bash through the castle gates. “Hard and fast, baby,” he growled at me. “Get ready.”

  I lay back on the desk and brought my legs up, hooking my ankles over his shoulders. His iron prod nudged my opening, and I forced myself to relax, readying for the onslaught.

  It still hurt when Dan plunged in, his thickness threatening to split me apart. I was so wet though that he slid right on in without trouble. His hands grasped my shoulders, holding me still and making me take it as he shoved in and out. As so often happened with me, the intense sensation twisted itself into bliss, and I verged suddenly on climax.

  I was so eager that Dan had only managed maybe half a dozen thrusts before I begged, “Please, may I come, please Sir, please, I gotta come!”

  “Not yet,” he grunted, ramming even harder and faster. “Not yet, baby girl, just a minute, hold on.” He gasped, the strain on his face tightening his eyes and mouth. Dan looked like our loving provided more agony than ecstasy.

  My womb glowed bright, the sensation tightening down to a pinpoint of white-hot light, condensing, spiraling tighter and tighter. “Please Sir, oh please, pleeease!”

  “Yes, now, do it now!” he yelled just before emitting a long, loud groan. He pulsed hugely in my channel, and the blinding spark in my belly expanded into a starburst of elation. Dan’s hand moved from my shoulder to my throat, gripping the slender column.

  As my lower parts throbbed, the slight pressure on my throat took me to a dark, moonlit place beneath the trees.

  The sweet pull of the demanding mouth leeched from the punctures his fangs had made in my throat. The other wounds, rendered painless by his glamour, poured my life out. He didn’t drink from them, probably because he’d sullied those fountains with his spunk. He didn’t want the proper openings of a woman. He’d declared them diseased. So he’d made new ones for his use, laughing as I screamed in helpless horror.

  Dank air, the rotting smell of vegetation, a sense of terror mixed improbably with exaltation. His skeletal hand closed around my throat, cutting off the last of the air I barely took in. And the cold, dead voice that held me prisoner spoke the last words I would hear as one of Earth’s breathing creatures.

  “He said, ‘Why are the strumpets the ones who taste best?’”

  Dan’s voice came through the gloom. “Who said that?”

  I came back to the library. Dan stood over me, the glaze of orgasm disappearing from his chocolate brown eyes. He slid my ankles off his shoulders and leaned close. His hands gently cupped my face.

  “Brandilynn, who told you that?”

  I blinked. “The monster who killed me. Just as I was slipping away, he stopped feeding long enough to ask me that.”

  “He called you a strumpet? Who in the hell says strumpets these days?”

  I remembered who. Heaven help me, I remembered the whole night of horror now, from the appearance of the vampire in Todd Spaulding’s house, to his eyes capturing me. I remembered Todd calmly tying the bedsheet off, climbing over the railing and dropping over it. He hadn’t died quickly. The vampire made me watch my customer slowly strangle to death, his gurgled screams fading as the sheet tightened gradually with his weight.

  I remembered flying through the night in the cold arms of the monster, of landing on top of a shack in the swamp. The brutal, inhuman rape and not being able to defend myself in any way. How afterward my mind screamed, verging on madness even as I trembled with eager anticipation of his bite. And the slow, fading death as he sucked every drop of life from my body.

  I remembered it all and wanted to go insane.

  Anger saved me. Raw fury erupted at having my life ended at the hands of the monster who hated me simply because I was a woman who bartered her body for money. I wanted him to pay.

  I hadn’t been a terribly good person, morally speaking. But I’d never killed anyone. I’d never cheated anyone out of anything. And I’d had dreams, dreams that included leaving being an escort behind. Given time, maybe I would have worked past my issues with commitment. Found a nice man. Married. Had children.

  The bastard had stolen those opportunities from me. And I’m very much an eye-for-an-eye gal.

  I pushed against Dan, forcing him to let me up off the desk. Ready to do battle, I wore the military-like outfit Linda Hamilton stomped around in the movie Terminator 2. I didn’t have the oversized gun she’d kicked butt with, but that was okay. I was going to find that long-toothed jerk’s carcass and stake him out in the sun. No bullets required.

  “Dan, let’s go to the police station.” He’d never believe who the Ripper was, so I had to rub his nose in the evidence. He had to see for himself.

  My Marlboro Man frowned. “I’m not so sure you should leave the protection of the library. Why are you dressed like that?”

  I waved at him impatiently. “It’s daylight now. I’ll be fine. Come on Dan, I want to show you something.”

  He regarded me uncertainly, but seeing my resolve, he finally nodded. “Okay, okay, but I’m driving. Your aim still isn’t that good.”

  “Whatever,” I tried to say, but we were already in transit.

  A few minutes later, we were standing in front of the dry erase board in the empty homicide division of Fulton Falls’ Police Department. Everyone was apparently out solving crimes and saving the innocent citizenry of my hometown.

  Nothing much had changed except the addition of the latest victim’s picture and notes scrawled about the crime scene. But I didn’t need to see any of this. Dan did.

  He scowled as he looked over the notes. “Damn it, Brandilynn.”

  I gave him a look, and he rolled his eyes.

  “Excuse me. Will darn it make you happy? If you remember something important, spill already.�
��

  I pointed at the scribbles made by Agents Neuhaus and Heany. “Look at the characteristics of the killer. Older vamp. Hates women. They got the bit about him being unknown to Tristan wrong though. Everyone knows the Ripper. He’s been here long enough to be comfortable to hire Erica and her ghoul squad.”

  Dan shrugged. “Fine, Nancy Drew. You think you know who he is.”

  “I know exactly who the Fulton Falls Ripper is.” I let him digest that little nugget and then ticked off the points on my fingers. “I remember the whole thing now. I was unable to move while Todd hung himself at the vampire’s command. The killer flew me to the swamp where he bit and drained me. Just before I died, he made the statement about strumpets tasting so good.”

 

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