The Girl Who Digs Graves (The Gravedigger Series Book 1)

by Willie E. Dalton

  I had been in every position he put me in, and whenever I had tried to take a break and give him some personal attention, he would stop me.

  “I just want to enjoy your body tonight, lovely Helena. I’m so glad that you don’t mind my more forceful side,” he whispered against my breasts, before taking one in his mouth and biting.

  I gasped. “Just as long as the forceful is mixed with the sensual,” I said in a breathy tone.

  With that he swirled his tongue around my nipple, and my whole body relaxed back against him.

  “I should let you rest,” he said. “We both have digging that needs to be done.”

  I really wanted to rest, but I felt like I had been greedy. “You haven’t finished,” I said, looking at his body, that was obviously still ready for more action.

  He kissed my lips, long and sweet. “I only finish if it’s love. This was wonderful, though.”

  I was a bit pissed at his statement. I mean, I didn’t think I loved Soren yet, but it didn’t seem right to say it that way. Plus, it made me feel a little dirty that I’d had nearly a dozen orgasms, and he wouldn’t let himself even have one, since he didn’t love me. I pushed my pettiness aside and tried to think of what I knew about Soren. He was a devoted family man before his death, a hunter filled with pride and honor.

  “You don’t want to betray your wife?” I asked.

  “It probably seems silly, coming from someone of your culture.” He rubbed his beard.

  “I think it’s very sweet,” I said, and kissed him on the cheek.

  “I’ll get out of here so you can rest.” He moved to get up.

  I put my hand on his arm. “Soren, would you stay and just hold me while I rest?”

  He thought about it longer than I expected him to, but eventually he laid back down beside me and pulled me into his arms. His wide, muscular body enveloped me, and for the first time since I died, I slept.

  When I woke up, Soren was gone, and I was all right with that. I recalled dreams of Ray and digging with him in our cemetery. The dreams left me longing for those days once more: for him, for home.

  I was thankful I didn’t dream of Raphael, and I was more thankful there were no nightmares.

  As I finally dragged myself to a standing position, the room spun, and my lower body was not too keen on moving after all of my previous activities. I smiled, recalling Soren’s fierce attentions.

  I wondered how things would be between us now. I hoped it wouldn’t be awkward; I really wanted to do it again. Truth be told, I really wanted him to be more than a friend with really great benefits—although, with his devotion to his wife I wasn’t sure if I could make that happen.

  Walking to the sink took some effort; I was dehydrated and in need of food. I couldn’t recall eating more than a bite or two of anything since I had gotten here. Sex really takes it out of you, even when you’re dead.

  Please let Grace have left something here, I muttered to myself as I looked in the few kitchen cupboards.

  I sighed in relief when I found a box of cereal bars with oats and chocolate chips—then I ate all five that were in the box. Maybe weight gain wasn’t a problem here.

  Once I felt alive again, pun intended, I decided another shower was definitely in order. Yes, I was just planning to go out and dig, but I didn’t want to smell like Soren and sex all day; that could be distracting.

  I piled my wet hair into a bun, and put on the jeans I had deemed my “work” pants after Grace had made me pick up several new outfits. A blue t-shirt and boots completed my uniform, and outside I went.

  My tools felt a little heavy in my arms, and I knew that I probably would not be digging for too long this time around.

  I was just getting ready to start when I heard laughter behind me. I turned to see Soren’s face lit up, laughing deep and loud at something Billy had said. I could see by the expression on Billy’s face that he wasn’t used to seeing Soren this happy. It was a look of, “This is great!” mixed with, “This is weird.”

  They made it over to me, and I was laughing with them even though I hadn’t heard the joke.

  “Good morning, Ms. Hel,” Soren said in a cheerful voice, and smiled at me in a way that reminded me of all the things he had done to my body recently.

  I felt my face redden and quickly looked down. “Good morning, Soren,” I smiled, barely glancing up at him—feeling that any upward glance would immediately spill our secret to Billy.

  We all worked and talked. For the first time, we all ended up swapping happy stories from our lives: tales of school days—well at least for Billy and me.

  Soren told stories of learning to fight, hunt and build things in the village where he grew up. He was as smart as anyone I had ever met; the lack of modern schooling certainly hadn’t hurt him.

  We laughed at one another’s stories, and tried to keep the rare joyous mood flowing. Whenever a painful memory would arise, and our faces would fall or our laughter turned to silence, the other ones would go into another funny anecdote until we were all laughing again.

  After countless stories had been heard, and many souls had been reaped, my own body was reminding me I had been a little hard on it.

  I ached in multiple places, some of which took some thought as to why and how;and my throat was still sore in the spot that Rasputin had bitten me.

  “How does healing work here?” I asked while rubbing my achy neck and shoulders.

  “Depends on the injuries: most things begin to repair within an hour. Injuries that would have been life threatening can take the equivalent of a few weeks,” Soren said.

  “Just like the living though, protein can help you heal,” Billy said.

  I sighed. “Geez, I need a freaking rule book for this place.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Time doesn’t work the same, but you can get by pretending that it does. There’s no day or night, and sleep is optional. Food is optional too, but sometimes it helps to eat. You can get hurt, but you can’t die. If you’re hurt badly enough, you might wish you could die again, but in time you’ll heal,” Soren explained.

  “Yeah, I’ve learned most of that,” I said, and something hit my mind to ask. “If Rasputin had torn my throat out, I mean massive blood loss or windpipe crushed, what would have happened to me?”

  “Blood loss, you would have been weak and in a dreamlike state until you could heal, with the right care. If your windpipe was torn out, you would have gasped for air until it grew back, or a replacement could have been put in,” Billy answered, in a way that said he knew more about this than I probably wanted to know.

  “So, I would have suffocated until it was fixed?” I put my hand to my throat, thankful to be breathing, even if it was only an illusion.

  “Yeah, we don’t really need to breathe here. But it’s easiest for us to accept things here if we go by living human rules... Something about the way the mind works,” Billy shrugged.

  Hearing such well thought out musings come out of the backwoods-looking, string-bean-like Billy, was endearing and made me miss my mountains.

  “Well all of that sounds horrific,” I said.

  Billy nodded in agreement. “I’ve seen a man get his throat torn out. It didn’t look like a good time.”

  “So what’s hurting you that you’re wanting to heal? Did you stub your toe or something?” Soren asked with a sneaky smile.

  I forced my own grin off my face. “My neck, remember? I was mauled by a vampire.” I pointed.

  He nodded as he recalled the memory.

  “I suppose I could use some protein. I’ve barely eaten since I got here,” I said. “Does anyone want to join me?”

  “I could go for a steak,” Soren said.

  I knew I looked as confused as I felt. “There’s meat here? That seems wrong somehow. Do they slaughter already dead animals? That’s not fair.”

  Billy laughed at me to the point of leaning over to catch his breath, and Soren just leaned over his shovel with his head down in exasperation.


  Soren raised his head and shook it. “No, Hel, everything is simply created here, just like the food we pick up. There’s no gardening here, no big farms—unless you want to count this one.”

  “So somebody just makes it, like magic?” I asked.

  “I don’t know what’s considered magic, but yeah it’s just made here. There’s a big factory on the east side of the city,” Soren answered.

  “Ok, let’s go get a steak.” I picked up my things and motioned for them to follow me.

  “All right,” Soren said, and picked up his things as well.

  “Are you coming, Billy?” I called to him.

  “Nah, I’m not hungry and I’m behind on my work. Have fun though.” He smiled his gap-tooth smile and waved at us.

  I knew how much Billy worked, and there was no way he was behind. I wondered if he knew about Soren and me, either from watching us together, or if Soren just had to tell someone. I wasn’t mad or judging; I could hardly wait until Grace was home so I could tell her.

  “Ok, if you’re sure then,” I said.

  “Yep, things are all good here,” he said.

  Soren and I walked to the shed and put our tools away.

  “Are we getting cleaned up first, or going like we are?” Soren asked.

  I thought about the effort it would take to put on makeup and try to match an outfit. I wrinkled my nose. “How nice is the restaurant?”

  “There’s more than one. We can go to the casual one.” He smiled.

  “That sounds great,” I sighed.

  “Are you really that worn out?” he smirked, seeming quite proud of himself.

  “Shut up.” I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “I guess having dessert is off the menu.” He said it so softly I barely heard him.

  I was tired, but suddenly seemed to get a second wind. “Hey, I heard food can do magical things. I might be all better.”

  He smiled at me, and I was so thankful this didn’t feel awkward.

  We made small talk as we walked through the city. Normally, I barely received more than a passing glance from people on the streets. Walking with Soren, people noticed, and most of them crossed the street to walk on the other side. Some cut down alleys as soon as they saw us, others ducked their heads and tried to give us a wide path.

  “Why are people afraid of us?” I asked Soren.

  “This is why I don’t like coming into the city,” he said. “I probably reaped most of these people. It’s not exactly a happy memory for them.”

  I thought about it… Were dead people still as weird about death as living ones?

  “You reaped me. I’m not afraid of you.” I elbowed him as we walked.

  He gave me a quick glance and grin, then he took my hand in his. My heart fluttered for the first time since Raphael.

  I squeezed his hand, and was proud to walk right along beside him.

  I was a little sad when we arrived at the restaurant because he let go of my hand. But he opened the door for me, which I thought was nice.

  The inside of the place looked like any other restaurant that would have the words “roadhouse” or “sirloin” in the title.

  No menus, just a server who asked us what we wanted to eat and drink, and trotted off to the back.

  Steak with broccoli and a baked potato was what we both wanted, and we both ordered beer to go with it. I still didn’t feel particularly hungry, I was just glad to know food would help me heal.

  Soren smiled. “You’re still over thinking the eating and sleeping thing. Don’t. Just pretend like you’re still alive, and do the things you’d normally do. You’ll be happier for it.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I shrugged, and sipped my beer. It was fine, nothing spectacular. I wondered if the beer was better in heaven or Valhalla, or wherever.

  Soren downed half his beer in only a few gulps, then he set the glass down firmly on the table while he made an “Ahhh” sound. He focused his steel gray eyes on me and asked, “So, do we need to discuss what happened last night, or are we good?”

  I was so glad he was the one to bring up the issue, but it was still an awkward thing to talk about. “Well, I don’t feel weird around you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  He nodded and waited for me to say more.

  “I’d like to know if this is a very casual thing that might happen again, or if there might be some potential for feelings… You know, just to get everything out in the open.” I took a drink of my beer because I felt like I needed to be doing something with this nervous energy.

  “You’re the only woman I’ve been with since I got here,” he admitted. His eyes were fixed on mine.

  To me, that meant this could be a serious thing, but I didn’t like to interpret things in my own way just because that’s how it made sense in my head. So, I just asked, “So does that mean you have feelings for me?”

  Soren leaned back in his chair and looked me over with such scrutiny I had to look away. He was gruff but handsome. Now that I knew just how much those eyes had seen of me, and how his calloused hands felt on my skin, I was suddenly more self conscious, rather than less.

  “Look at me,” he growled.

  I did, and a good kind of fear gripped my stomach.

  “You are strong, and beautiful. We would be good partners.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile that made his eyes sparkle.

  “I appreciate the compliments, Soren. Really, it means a lot.” I smiled back, and let that sink in for a second, before continuing, “But I don’t want to be with you because we seem to be a good fit. I want to be with you because you care for me, because you want me—or even just for sex is OK, if you only desire me like that. I just need to know where we stand.” I was proud of myself for speaking what was on my mind, and I sat a little straighter.

  His fingers played along the rim of his beer glass. It was his turn to look away. “It is hard for me to admit feelings for another woman, since my wife.”

  “I understand that, and I would never want to take those memories from you. But don’t you think she’s moved on? Wouldn’t she want you to be happy?” I let the sincerity in my voice come through loud and clear.

  “She remarried, and yes, she would want happiness for me. But one day we will be reunited. I keep hoping one day, I’ll look down and it will be her soul that I see.”

  “How long have you been waiting?” I asked.

  “About one hundred mortal years,” he answered.

  I didn’t try to hide the shock on my face. “Soren, there’s no way she’s still alive.”

  He nodded. “I’m well aware of that.” There was a hint of anger in his voice.

  “Where do you think she is? Haven’t you worked off your time by now?”

  “Yes, a couple of times over. I don’t know where she is: I haven’t reaped her, and no one else can say for certain if they did. I’m afraid to move on; if I choose a different path than she did, we might never meet again. There’s a possibility her soul hasn’t been reaped, and she’s waiting, and that is what I cling to.” His face was stern.

  Soren was a bit more broken than I had realized. As much as I loved Raphael I knew I couldn’t spend my time wandering the afterlife, waiting for him to die and return to me. I thought Soren’s devotion was endearing, and truly romantic, but logically I could only see the pain it was continuing to cause him.

  “My ramblings haven’t answered your question,” Soren said.

  I looked at him to continue, but our steaks arrived; then the server brought out more beer. We didn’t talk while we ate. I was hungrier than I had realized, and Soren liked to focus on his food. The food was good, exactly the way I remembered it tasting. If you had told me I had just eaten this meal the previous week, I could have believed it.

  "Tasty," I muttered between bites, just to say something.

  Soren nodded while he chewed.

  When we finished, we stood and stretched and left. I started toward the fields, and Soren stoppe
d me.

  “Let’s wander around a bit,” he said.

  I changed my direction and stood beside him, hoping he’d take my hand in his again. He didn’t.

  We walked but didn’t talk. There were fewer people out on the streets now, and I wondered where everyone had gone. Maybe in the city they had a more structured sense of time for food and rest and work—unlike us reaping heathens, who did things whenever we felt like it.

  I looked up at the boring buildings, and wished at least the architecture from the Quarter had spread to more of the area. But that would probably mean more vampires, and I wasn’t sure that was something we needed.

  I saw we were walking towards the fountain. I had avoided it since the day I had looked into it. Nothing until that point had made me feel truly dead. I wondered how often Soren had looked in it to see his wife; I wondered how he felt when he looked and realized she was no longer there, but not with him.

  Soren looked at me and I could tell the wall he had worked so hard to build around himself was weakening with me. His eyes were usually so cold, and his face unreadable. I didn’t know if he was intentionally letting his guard down with me, or if it was just crumbling on its own.

  We looked into the water together, and it was just that: water. The sun wasn’t shining in our dreary world, and the fountain was large, and lovely. It was a fountain like you might find in any city square. It wasn’t magical right now, people weren’t crowded around it, and there were no images of the lives we had left behind. Just water, and the white noise of it rushing and falling back into the pool below, gently spraying our skin and clothes.

  Soren finally took my hand again and motioned for us to sit on the edge of the fountain.

  “I used to come here every day and spend hours. That way I’d have a good spot if the sun shined through,” he said.

  I shook my head, remembering my experience. “When I looked, it hurt too much. I know I wasn’t a very important person, and that life could go on without me, but it hurt.” I swallowed, and a few small tears escaped my eyes. Soren watched me quickly brush them away. I laughed. “I’m sorry. I’m pretty sure you’ve seen me cry more than any other person you’ve ever been around.”