Dead Girls Don't Cry

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Dead Girls Don't Cry Page 22

by Casey Wyatt


  The remainder of the day passed uneventfully and before I knew it, it was time to meet with the committees. When I arrived in the mess hall, each group had grown in size.

  I realized, seeing them assembled, that most of the strippers were in the Morale Committee, except for Pearl. She was with the whiners. Excuse me. The Improvement Committee. I knew I was in trouble the moment I entered the room because she zeroed in on me, eyes narrowed into slits.

  “Sire,” she nodded her head, “so good of you to join us.”

  The words spoken politely, yet the not so subtle message was: you haven’t been paying enough attention to your flock.

  “Yes. I’ve missed you too.” I circulated around the room, inquiring and listening to each member. I learned most of them were adjusting well. There were one or two who would need more specific attention and I made a mental note to meet with them the next day.

  Without Louis trailing me around, I didn’t have anyone to take notes for me. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how much I had come to depend on him. I had stopped by the temple before the meeting to check his progress. After thanking him profusely, he gave me the: aw –shucks- it- was- nothing routine. He promised he would be on his feet in the morning.

  “Sire, may I have a moment?” Phillip broke me out of my reverie with his deep, baritone voice.

  “No need for the sire, Philip,” I said, waiting to see what he had to say.

  He steered me to the edge of the room. “The spider. We confirmed it was loaded with silver poison. Same as last time. We’ve searched every room in the domes and can’t find out who sent it. At least we didn’t locate any more.”

  I plastered a pleasant smile on my face. We were under observation, most notably by the Improvement Committee. What a sour lot they were. “I appreciate the information. Please thank everyone for me. Let’s hope this is the end of it.”

  Philip arched a dark eyebrow, transmitting – not very likely. “Have a good meeting.”

  “Sure you don’t want to stay. It’s not a family thing.” Each group had revenants and zombies, even a few rogues.

  “No, thank you. I’m not a joiner,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “I can’t deal with whiners or Pollyannas.” With a gentle smile he left me standing there, trying not to laugh.

  My stomach fluttered again. These “sparks of life” were really becoming an annoyance. I rubbed my belly, easing the twitch, then marched to the podium and called the meeting to order.

  Here’s how the night played out:

  Improvement Committee – Paint the interiors in pleasing colors. Completed. Next task, improve the sonic shower. Thank heavens. Create a nature area in the greenhouse (totally agree).

  Morale Committee – Institute fun activities like live shows (the strippers’ idea) and start a book group (a zombie recommendation). They also announced a sing-along every Tuesday night.

  The final suggestion– open the Moon Clan temple to everyone – created the most controversy. The revenants objected, stating only initiates could enter. The vampires and zombies didn’t like to be excluded. The debate raged on with suggestions for the vampire and zombies to create their own houses of worship – not practical and which religion would they pick. Or for those who wanted to worship, they convert to the Moon Clan.

  I let the heated discussion continue until tempers flared.

  I whistled. “Enough!” Quiet blanketed the room. “We won’t solve this one tonight. I’ll discuss the matter with Harmony. She is wise and may have a solution.” A cold bead of sweat ran down my spine. The room was hot and stuffy. The need to leave overwhelmed me. “Good night everyone. We’ll meet again in a week.”

  I walked calmly out of the mess hall then ran to the nearest exit. A long forgotten urge racked my body. I ran to the outskirts of the camp and puked.

  ~ * * * ~

  The next morning, I awoke achy and nauseous. Panicked, I barely made it outside before hurling again. Since I didn’t eat solid food, not much came out. Still, I shouldn’t need to vomit. Ever. Unless I drank too much alcohol. One too many hangovers had cured me years ago.

  As soon as the dry heaves stopped, hunger raced into my belly. “Seriously?” I complained to the rocks and dirt. The colony, far behind me, was waking up for the day. I didn’t want anyone to see me so I headed back, intending to return to my quarters.

  The greenhouse beckoned me instead. I went in despite the fact that the last time I had visited robo-spidey tried to kill me.

  “Morning, Ms. Cordial,” Prior chirped.

  Not the vampire I wanted to see with an unsettled stomach. I wondered if they had grown any mint or ginger. My nanny swore by those as a cure for stomach aches.

  “Morning, Prior,” I said, while searching over his head, inventorying the plants.

  “It’s good you’re here. Saves me a walk to your office.”

  I eyed his doughy frame, thinking a walk would do him good. “What can I do for you today?” I moved toward a tray of herbs.

  “The biological events appear to be increasing. Other than the occasional discomfort, everyone is the same as before. We’ve determined eternal youth and immortality are unchanged. A great relief, I might add. I rather like continuing to exist,” Prior said trailing me.

  I plucked leaves and sniffed the plants. “And?” My stomach flip-flopped again.

  “Nothing else to report. I’ll keep you posted. See you back at HQ.”

  HQ? I nodded and waved him off, relieved to finally be alone.

  Saliva pooled into my mouth while I hunted for the mint. Suddenly, I spied familiar shaped foliage. I rubbed the leaves, releasing a pungent spearmint odor.

  “Yes.” I breathed the scent in deeply.

  Relieved, I tore off a fistful of leaves and chewed them with mad passion. Half a plant later, the craving subsided and my rebellious stomach had calmed.

  The mint craving appeased, I managed to muddle through the morning briefing. Sleepiness washed over me. When the meeting was over, I returned to my room and rested until noon. The nap did me good. I woke up, bright eyed and rejuvenated.

  After freshening up, I journeyed to the Moon Clan dome, marveling at the colony’s progress. In a few short weeks, it had transformed from a ramshackle camp into a solid, more permanent settlement. The slapdash housing had been replaced by sturdy more habitable structures. Turned out the sand storm was a blessing in disguise, forcing everyone to think more long term and accept we were here to stay.

  I frowned. In my heart, I knew I hadn’t accepted reality. The barren Martian landscape appeared harsh and unwelcoming to my eyes.

  A clawing urge to run smacked into me.

  I hate it here. Hate. It.

  I veered past the workers putting the final touches on the remaining walkways. The hovercrafts were close by. With a fake smile, I waved at the colonists. Some family, some not. When I arrived in the parking area, one ship was left.

  Sharp, relentless thoughts drummed out a single theme.

  Hate. Hate. Hate.

  I commandeered the craft. And with no gear or notice to anyone, I sped away.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  I sat by the lakeshore, knees pulled up to my chest, thoughts running in circles. I found my way to the new cottage without encountering another person. This time the bracelet guided me by a different route. Maybe one of these days, I’d travel the same way twice. A few times it had occurred to me I wasn’t in my right mind.

  The overwhelming emotions that led me to the caverns subsided once I crossed the threshold of great entrance hall. When I reached the lake, the lady hadn’t stirred either. I was utterly alone. Even the family felt distant from me. The curtain I had erected in my mind remained firmly shut with no ambient thoughts reaching me.

  Once alone, I suspected the hatred and anger weren’t mine. I needed to locate the culprit before his or her emotions tainted the rest of the colony. I could empathize with whoever hated Mars. If we had to endure some of the living’s indignities, wh
at was the point of being undead?

  Wind gusted across the lake, yet the water remained still. The cuff bracelet hummed, shaking my wrist. Flutters caressed my abdomen. Tickles, really. I shrugged them off. It was better than puking.

  “Cherry, can you hear me?” Jay’s tinny voice spoke from my wrist.

  “Yes.” I uncovered the bracelet. Jay’s image appeared on a tiny screen. “Holy smokes.”

  Jay grinned, “Kinda cool isn’t it? I’m sending this to you from a newly discovered chamber. You should see this place. It’s fantastic. Hey, where are you? Ian poked his head in. He seemed kind of pissed. Oh and you’ll be happy to know I established communications with Kasia. She said to tell you—”

  I didn’t hear the last bit because a pair of strong hands gripped my shoulders from behind. Expecting another attempt on my life, I spun around and slammed the heel of my palm upward, connecting with a nose. There was a crunch. Warm blood spilled onto my hand.

  “Bloody hell!” Ian pinched the bridge of his nose between fingers and thumb staunching the blood.

  “Oh my God! I’m so sorry. I didn’t hear you and I thought it was another spider thing.”

  “It’s okay. The fault is mine. I shouldn’t have startled you.” Ian wiped the blood with his palm leaving a crimson smear across his lips.

  Unbidden, I closed the distance between us. I darted my tongue across the stain. Hunger consumed me. I lapped up the remaining blood, while greedy noises escaped from my throat. When the last of it was gone, I felt more myself again.

  Ian had a bemused expression, “Well, darling, that was a bit kinky. Perhaps you could break my nose again.”

  Oh lord. What had I done? Mortified, I turned away. “I. . . I don’t know what came over me.” I had completely lost control. Again.

  Tremors shook my entire body. Saliva filled my mouth and my stomach cramped.

  I ran.

  I would not barf in front of Ian.

  “Cherry! Wait!” he called after me.

  I barely made it to the back side of the house before I unleashed red liquid onto the beach’s orange sand. Tears stung my eyes while the after spasms choked me. Dry heaves knocked me to my knees.

  “This sucks,” I wailed.

  Firm hands rubbed circles on my back. “Shh. It’ll be all right.”

  Ian’s deep voice calmed me. I wanted to bury my face in his chest and lose myself in his delightful scent. Instead, I remained on the ground quivering.

  Ian pulled me up, brushing away the sand. He gently guided me into the cottage. I barely registered a bed frame had been built, elevating the blankets off the floor. He eased off my jumpsuit, leaving me in my underclothes.

  “When did the sickness start, luv?” After covering me in a blanket, Ian spooned me from behind, stroking my arm up and down.

  “This morning,” I yawned.

  “Don’t you fret about this,” he said, nuzzling the back of my neck. “Can I get you anything?”

  The hardness pressed against my buttocks told me he had something different in mind. Despite the tiredness, need took hold and I arched my back against him.

  He breathed in the scent of my hair, “You smell so damn good. Like sweet cherries and vanilla.”

  Wafts of mint enticed, drawing me closer. I flipped over to face him, savoring his glorious aroma. Ian’s fingers trailed my jaw line. His thumb grazed my bottom lip. Wetness dampened my panties, the fabric teasing my hypersensitive core.

  One overriding urge drove me. Sex. Right now.

  Blue light burned in Ian’s eyes. A seductive smile curled his lips. I shivered in anticipation. The heady perfume of my arousal and his was maddening. Fabric ripped. Clothing flew until bare skin touched bare skin.

  His fingers glided between my thighs. “Ah, God. You’re so wet,” Ian groaned.

  I cried out when he slid two fingers inside me, thumb rubbing my throbbing clit. “I want you…” He slid downward.

  Ian’s mouth landed on my core. Tongue and fangs danced across my inner flesh with exquisite pleasure. I came a moment later, the orgasm so hard and mind-blowing white stars danced in front of my vision. He dragged my hips, angling his head so he could delve deeper. His mouth and hands worked me into a frenzy.

  “Ian!” I cried and came again. Fingers still inside me, he positioned me so I was on my knees. I moaned when he withdrew.

  “Don’t fret, luv. There’s more to come,” he said, accent so thick now I barely recognized his voice. The shaft of his cock slid against me, not penetrating. He cupped my breasts with both hands, massaging my nipples. Not too hard, not too soft.

  I jammed my backside against his erection. “Get in me!”

  “Not yet.”

  Ian drew me upright so my back was to his chest. The hard ridges of his pecs and abs rippled across my back. On our knees, he caressed my breasts. Teeth lightly scored my collarbone. One hand traveled back to my mound. Slick fingers stroked with a slow, deliberate rhythm.

  With his other hand, Ian tilted my neck. Fangs punctured flesh with a pop. After a long pull, he broke away. Pressure built inside me. Another orgasm was ready to fly.

  “I can’t be gentle,” he said, the other hand squeezing my breast.

  “I don’t care!”

  With a single hard thrust, Ian entered. “Sweet mother fucker.”

  “Yes. Fuck. Harder.” I spurred him by bending forward, allowing him deeper access. The sound of his body slapping into mine released me. Spasms rocked me, my inner muscles clamped and released in hard tight pulls.

  Ian pounded me harder. His fingers vice-gripped my hips, holding me firm. Pleasure racked my body. I glanced over my shoulder, captivated by his beauty. His face taut, lips slightly parted, a damp sheen coated his luminescent skin as his hips rocked against my backside.

  His orgasm came in a great spurt. Ian barked out his release, head tossed back, his blond hair sliding off his shoulders. Sensing my gaze, his eyes riveted toward me. A warm smile brightened his features. “Bloody hell.”

  I grinned. Every muscle in my body was both tired and energized at the same time. “You can say that again.”

  Ian’s girth still filled me as he drew us together in a tight embrace. “I’ve never felt this with anyone before.”

  “Me either,” I laced my fingers around his. A stark realization hit me with almost physical force. I loved him so much. I couldn’t live without him. Fear beat back my joy.

  “Hey. None of that.” Ian smoothed my hair, “Shh. No tears.”

  I couldn’t help it. Sobs erupted from my chest. “You’ve done it now. I’m hopelessly in love with you.”

  “Why is that such a fearsome thing?”

  Hot tears pooled around my ears. I rolled over to face him. “What if something happens to you?”

  “Not very likely.” Ian grew somber. “You could leave me too you know.” Darkness clouded his gaze. Our emotional bond transmitted how much he disliked the idea. “Listen, Miss Charity Belmont. I have never loved a woman, not a single one, like I love you. You have the power to destroy me.”

  I shuddered. “I would never hurt you.”

  He kissed my lips and murmured, “And neither would I.”

  Content, we held each other for a long time. Long enough to fall asleep. When I woke, Ian’s eyes were open, gaze fixed on me.

  “You are so beautiful when you sleep. No worry, no what ifs, just calm,” he touched the tip of my nose with his forefinger.

  Hunger rumbled in my belly before I could speak.

  Ian frowned, “Blood? Something else?”

  “No,” I croaked, throat dry from sleep. “Juice?”

  “Be right back.” Ian left the bedroom, giving me a fine view of his spectacular backside.

  Flutters brushed the inside of my abdomen again. I froze up, waiting for the nausea to come next. Great, the morning after mind-blowing sex and I’d kill the mood by vomiting.

  The sensation passed and I relaxed. A tiny pitter patter came and went. How odd?


  “What the…” Ian stood in the doorway, juice pouch in hand, head tilted to the side as if listening for a sound.

  The tiny thump sounded again. The juice pouch slipped from Ian’s hand. In a blur, he was at the bedside. He lifted the blanket off my belly, a weird combination of fear and awe on his face.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” I panicked. His pale skin was even paler now.

  “Cherry,” he whispered, he looked up at me. He clasped my hand and placed in on my abdomen, then placed his hand atop it.

  “Ian. What’s wrong?” a tremor shook my voice.

  He kissed me full on the lips. When he leaned back unshed tears brightened his eyes. “Oh my love . . . you’re with child. My child.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “No. I’m dead. The dead don’t have babies,” I insisted, temples throbbing. “That’s not possible.”

  Ian frowned, “You don’t want a child with me?”

  “No, that’s not it.” I placed my hands over my womb. The flutter returned. The revelation so strange, it was like a giant pink elephant had suddenly materialized in the room. Knowing the strange caves, I probably shouldn’t tempt fate. It might actually happen.

  I tried again. “Mars is no place for a baby. Have you forgotten Thalia? She’s still out to kill us.”

  Ian arched an eyebrow, as if to say – your point? “I will rip her limb from bloody limb. No one will harm my child. Or her mother.”

  “So it’s a girl now is it?” I shifted forward, searching for a shirt or piece of clothing that wasn’t in shreds.

  “Don’t you see? This is a fucking miracle!” Ian stooped down and retrieved a t-shirt and handed it to me. “This would have never happened on Earth.”

  “I’m scared.”

  He knelt down beside me, expression serious. “I am too, pet.”

  The sheer determination on his face tamed my lingering doubts for the time being. “We’ll figure this out together.”

  “Right you are.” He kissed the top of my forehead and retrieved the juice pouch from the floor. “Drink up, little mother.”

 

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