Bianca dropped to one black leather-clad knee without glancing up to see Drake struggling against the wall. “My lord.”
“You’re a fool when it comes to family. You do realize that, child?”
“Yes, master.”
Drake growled out his frustration, the hold of death unforgiving and unwavering.
“I didn’t want it to come to this.” Death’s face didn’t shift from his usual mask of uncaring amusement. “I tried to give you more time.”
Bianca nodded but didn’t stand.
One wave of his hand and Bianca crumpled…not just to the ground but until her clothes fell, empty, dust floating away on the breeze that suddenly filled the space between buildings.
A fierce growl, almost a howl, broke loose from Drake’s throat.
And then he dropped, no longer held in the icy grip of Death himself, to an empty and dark alley…only broken by the suddenly tiny pile of clothes that marked the passing of the woman he’d followed, prodded, made love to and wanted.
Chapter Seven
Bianca expected to end. She expected her life to end this time, if not the first time, and she accepted it.
Which didn’t explain how she woke up in the soft bed.
Rolling over, she looked at her hand. It was a solid hand, fingers that moved when she wanted them to, but still was not her hand.
Sitting up, she dragged a hand through her hair, surprised when it caught in tangles.
Her hair never tangled, too fine and straight for that. The locks, when she tugged them forward, weren’t quite the right shade of red either. Her hair was the ruby of old, dried blood. This hair was bright, the color of flame.
Jumping out of the bed, unsure what in the hell was going on, Bianca rushed to the mirror hanging over the dresser in the unfamiliar room.
“What the fuck?”
The question reflected back at her, just like a mirror should reflect, but the face wasn’t hers, the lips that moved in time with her voice, were not hers.
“Alicia?” someone called from another room and Bianca accepted the unacceptable.
She had woken up in her sister’s body.
A shadow moved further into the room, transforming into a figure she recognized.
“Death?” she whispered.
“Yup.” Death’s face was in its usual grimace, something like a smile but darker. “Miss me?”
Snorting, Bianca went back to studying her face, or rather her sister’s, in the glass. “Do I dare ask what fuckery you’re up to this time?”
“You always dare more than you should, Bianca. Why stop today?”
“I’m not tired.” The wonder at that revelation was almost more than the fascination of touching the face, both familiar and so very not, in the mirror.
“You will be. Humans are frail. You’ll tire each night, awaken refreshed and fragile each morning, no more consistent or sturdy than a soap bubble floating in the air. But…you’re a bit more hardy than the average bubble now.”
Ignoring the mysterious statement, she demanded, “What have you done?” Not sure if she was horrified or happy to be alive, she tugged at the skin under her sister’s…her…eye.
“You gave up your life for Alicia. You fought me for Alicia. I rewarded that desperate need to keep that body moving.” Death waved a hand. He looked lonely, if a being of immortality that collected souls could be considered to have any kind of real emotion. “The body is alive. It has a few years left on it, although I’ll neither advise you how many or why.”
“I was trying to save my sister.” Propping her hands on her hips, she faced off with the dark one. “This isn’t that. I didn’t want to steal her flesh for myself.”
“Be satisfied that Alicia has just what she deserves. I’ll take care of her personally. Her time was up long ago. She’s mine now, not a problem for you to concern yourself with. You can either accept my gift or I can end this body as it’s my right to do…”As Death trailed off, Bianca suddenly fought for air. Falling to her knees, clutching her borrowed throat, she waved a hand in plea at the dark robed figure.
He released whatever hold he’d held on her throat. “I thought you might choose to live.”
Given the choice…
Staring at the floor between the strange hands, Bianca fought off a wave of nausea. This body was addicted to things. The very veins of it cried out for more of a substance, for relief.
Blinking back tears at the hunger of it, she bit her lip and focused on breathing in and out. “I’ll take it.” Pain was good. Pain meant that she was alive.
When she looked up, the robed figure had vanished. But he would be watching.
Humans didn’t realize how often he or his reapers were near. Watching. Waiting. But Bianca knew.
Rubbing the hands together, Bianca stood, finally realizing this body was nude. After clothing it, she walked right out of the room into the hall. One man, a scrawny tattooed creature that looked better suited to darkness than the light streaming in the windows at the front of the house, attempted to stop her. “Alicia—?”
Bianca cut him off with an uppercut to the throat. Stepping over him, she walked into the street and enjoyed the feel of the light on her face.
First step, get over the addiction riddling this borrowed body.
Second…go find Drake.
Chapter Eight
Lying on the sofa, Drake wondered when Death would come for him.
He needed to feed.
His flesh cried out, hunger rippling at his every nerve, but he couldn’t feed. Not now.
He didn’t want flesh, none but hers.
Foolish, stupid, suicidal…no matter how he berated himself for the emotions, he couldn’t overcome them.
It was like she awakened a unique craving, one none could satisfy but Bianca.
Better to lay here and wait for the end.
The echoing dong of his doorbell didn’t faze him. He wasn’t in the mood to entertain whoever made it past his gates and dogs. Didn’t care. He hadn’t even set the alarms.
What would they protect? Things?
He didn’t give a flying fuck about a single thing in this house.
The bell rang again and he flipped, burying his face under a pillow. It was so damned teenage girl. He was lying here, mooning over a dead woman.
“What the fuck are you doing?” The voice, unfamiliar yet somehow familiar, broke into his misery.
Rolling, his eyes met eyes that he hated.
“Alicia.” The sister wouldn’t know him but he recognized her instantly. Some primal part of him came to life. He would kill the bitch.
If it weren’t for her, Bianca would live. Even if he would never have met her, she would be alive if not for this selfish whore.
Coming up off the couch, he stalked her.
But she didn’t back up. “Well, you look pissed.”
“You’re why she died.”
“Yeah, about that.” When he was toe-to-toe with her, she didn’t back up, not in the least. She was still smiling. “Death has a fucked-up sense of humor.”
One of her hands raised and he resisted flinching back from her touch. Instead he allowed her touch, almost craving it for some reason.
“It’s me. Well, sort of. I’m wearing an Alicia suit and I’m apparently not exactly human any more…but it’s me.”
Confused, he didn’t kill her. Yet.
“Bianca? Ring any bells or did you forget me already, bounty hunter?”
Something about the curve of her lips, the arch of her brow, the intelligence behind those unfamiliar eyes, did scream Bianca at him. Now that she’d put words to it, his hesitation explained, he considered her.
She even smelled like Bianca.
Did she taste—? He captured her mouth, tangling their tongues, and his dick hardened as her familiar flavor flooded him.
Shoving her into the wall, he lifted her to rest on his cock while he plundered that mouth. “I’ve missed you.”
“I am getting t
hat impression.”
One rip and her breasts rose up, smaller but hers. Somehow hers. Suckling one, he enjoyed the growl of pleasure that rumbled up out of her chest as her fingers caught his hair, holding him in place while her pussy rubbed at his aching cock through the barrier of her clothing. “I had to find you. Probably overstepping after only a few nights together but…”
He silenced her, thrusting his tongue to tangle with hers. “Mine.”
Answering his demand, she came to life under his hands.
Turning with her trapped in his arms, he pressed her into the wall. After stripping the rest of her clothes, he captured her hands and held them above her head.
His hand shook as he traced it down her spine. “I’ve hungered for you.”
“Good. I came back for you.”
He answered her by shoving inside, pushing into her soaked pussy in one hard thrust that had her mewling and arching back into him as much as she could with her hands restricted.
“Tell me we have more time. Tell me he did something and…” He hated the weakness of the words, hated that she brought him to this point, but he needed her.
Ached for her.
“He gave me an unknown number of days. Once I cleaned the body I was given, I came back for you. My sister…” Her voice broke a little. “He didn’t tell me what exactly happened to her.”
He rained kisses onto her shoulder, up her neck. “You can’t save her from herself.”
“I know. I didn’t realize I was trying to…that I was saving her because I needed her safe and not because she wanted to be safe. I got it. Somehow those nights together, it finally soaked through. I guess I just wanted to take care of someone.”
She shrugged, as if the words didn’t matter. He knew they did.
“You want me to take care of you?” He flicked a hand between her spread legs, which rested on his thighs. “You want me to take the control away from you, Bianca?”
Her cry made his balls tighten up, want to release. He forced her higher, holding her wrists and manipulating the nub until he felt her juices flow over his fingertips.
“Fuck, yes. Please. I want to stay.”
“I didn’t give you permission to speak.” Hammering into her, he felt her pussy clamp his dick, the remains of her orgasm milking at his cock.
Her answering silence was punctuated by pants and the slick slap of sweaty flesh riding sweaty flesh.
One sharp smack on her tender white ass and she went limp in the grip of his hand, a howl breaking free of her throat as she came again in a gush. His own orgasm made it hard to hold her, hard to keep from falling to his knees but he closed his eyes, feeding off her, feeding off the joy, feeding off the hot moisture of her cum on his pulsing cock.
Using the last of his reserves, he carried her now boneless body to his bed. Her breathing had yet to steady when he caught her mouth, kissing her. “You’re going to need much more training, my love.”
“Love? Let’s not get all squishy here, Drake.” But her eyes answered him. Her very presence here, after she’d been given a second chance, spoke of her feelings.
Her pride, still a part of her spirit, survived all of it somehow.
“My bitch?”
Her slap and smile as she rolled to her side in invitation sent light zinging inside him. She was here. She was his.
He pulled her close, teeth catching her lobe to nibble. “Bianca.”
She rolled, turning to face him. “Yeah, I’m here.”
The face, not hers and yet so very her, struck him as beautiful. He leaned down, taking her lips and trying to put into kiss the words that he didn’t have for her.
She returned the kiss, a small hitch in her breath at the end giving away her emotion. “What was that for?” she whispered, as if afraid someone might overhear.
“A kiss.After. To show you how I feel.”
She stroked his face, tenderness—a new emotion that he planned on seeing cross her new features as much as possible—etched on her expression. “I kind of like you, bounty hunter.”
“Good.” He ran a hand up her side. “Now, about my play room…”
The End
www.virg-nelson.com
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Evernight Publishing
www.evernightpublishing.com
Catching Death Page 3