The Love of Her Death

by Luna Carrol

  She stood still. Every one of them looked at her now. A whistle reminded her of the blouse still in her hand.

  "Call me if you need anything, Donnice.” Colin's voice yelled to her from behind, followed by another chuckle.

  Not bloody likely. She pulled the door closed then slipped her blouse on, ignoring the freaks in the car with her and their leering eyes.

  Chapter Seven

  He sat in his private car. Shit, he should have been able to do it. Make her feel good about what she had done with the cowboy and Marie. Make her understand how it's a person's own beliefs that damned them. She would end up in the worst of places if she didn't cut herself some slack. It was one thing to enjoy something you knew was wrong. It was another thing to enjoy harmless joys of life. He brought his fist down hard on the small circular table beside his wing-backed chair, causing the tiny lamp to sway perilously close to falling over.

  Her skin had tasted as sweet as he knew it would. The warmth she radiated still clung to him, just as her fresh scent did. No. He couldn't lose himself. She needed him in a way she couldn't fathom, and he needed her in the most basic of ways. She needed help completing her journey. He needed to feed.

  She would be nothing more than a meal to him. A delicious, warm, silky ... Damn it. He had to clear his mind. She shouldn't have such a strong hold on him, and her confession of being attracted to him didn't affect him as it should either. Instead of using that to his advantage and feeding upon her soul, an emotion shot through him that shouldn't have. A feeling of mutual understanding, and it didn't belong in him.

  Maybe he could just ignore it. Take her physically and digest her soul. After that, he would forget her. Hell, he couldn't remember the owner of the first soul he devoured. She would be just like that. Forgotten. She had to be.

  He almost stood and then sat back down. He might not be able to do it. Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Never had anyone caused so much confusion in him.

  That's it. He would have to find another soul to feed upon. Then, after sated, he could control at least one type of hunger. He would just have to ignore the sexual hunger she created in him. There was no fucking way another woman would suffice now. He would be able to focus on convincing her to satisfy his sexual needs if he didn't have to focus on appetite. To have sex and not feed at the same time would be almost alien to him now, but the thought of possessing her warm body would be worth feeding separately.

  There were other women on board. In fact, there was that gorgeous redhead. She was torn up about what she had done to that other woman. Jealousy could be a powerful emotion. Well, he would just have to ease her transition, wouldn't he?

  * * * *

  Nothing made sense about the layout of this train. She was determined to reach an empty car. One that a passenger couldn't just walk in and stalk her. She could leave an empty car, only to return to it twenty minutes later and find it filled to near overflowing.

  If her thinking was right, the next car would be something other than the dining car. She kept her eyes on the door straight ahead.

  "You can join me."

  She glanced before she thought. She saw a man who looked like a serious biker. He was cute, hot really, but that knife strapped to his thigh said more than those bedroom blue eyes.

  She smiled but kept going. He had to be crazy if he honestly thought she would give him the time of day. A knife. Really!

  Opening the next door, she found a private car. She closed the door behind her. She knew that scent. Colin had been here. That didn't surprise her; he was expected everywhere on this train, but what did surprise her was how she picked up on the scent of his cologne or aftershave. Whatever created his scent appealed to her. That thought really bothered her.

  The car contained a small sitting area complete with two wing-backed chairs, a small table, and lamp. There was a full-size bed neatly turned down with crisp white sheets topped with a rich burgundy colored blanket. A table stood beside the bed with a tiny old-fashioned clock on it.

  The shades on all the windows were down, and only the lamp cast a golden glow about the room. She walked to the sitting area. The next door could lead to the dining car or another full passenger car. She preferred sitting right here, at least until someone told her that she had to leave. God how she hoped no one would disturb her.

  Looking to the bed, she suppressed a yawn. It had to be someone's bed, and the last thing she wanted was to have a dead person catch her in his or her bed.

  She sat in a chair and looked around the room. The soft ticking from the clock and the chugging of the wheels were different beats but soothing in their staggered way. Her eyelids closed. She managed to drag them open again. Long black pauses, the room was still normal.

  * * * *

  Holy Christ! The woman managed to find his chambers. He stood at the door and watched her sleeping for a solid minute. He could barely get her out of his mind. When he did manage to feel something that resembled normalcy, she showed up in his bedroom!

  He cleared his throat but not too loudly. Part of him wanted her to awaken, yet he knew she would leave if she did. He thought about turning and leaving the room then thought about her position. Her head was leaning awkwardly on the back of her hand. At any moment that smooth dark hair would cause her head to slide forward and wake her up. Surely her neck would be painful if he left her in that position.

  Yes. He had a duty to his passengers. As long as he told himself that, he had all the excuse he needed and a good excuse for her if she woke up.

  Scooping her into his arms gently, he closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek against her silky hair. Her head lay gently against his shoulder with no more than a soft sigh from her lips. Her slight frame fit perfectly against his.

  Lowering her to his bed, he chastised himself for not carrying her to a berth in another private car. However, it did no good. He held her against him as he lay beside her. After his eyes began to lower, he decided he had to remove his jacket in order to feel more comfortable.

  After tossing his uniform jacket to a chair across the room, his eyes returned to Donnice. That corset had to be giving her a terrible pinch. There was nothing to do but help her out of it. His grin grew while thinking of what she would say if she woke up naked in his arms.

  * * * *

  She awoke before her alarm went off. The bed was so soft, and the sheets smelled so fresh and were so smooth against her bare skin. She would have to buy more of the fabric softener that smelled so nice. She smiled. Maybe she'd stay in bed all day. The store would just have to do without its pincushion today.

  "Good morning, Donnice."

  "Who?” She spun off of her side and into a sitting position. Her legs immediately tangled in a sheet.

  Colin smiled. He sat in one of the wing-backed chairs. The very chair she remembered sitting in last night.

  "How did I get here?” Where...? Oh, the train. She wasn't at home at all. She had been dreaming of being at home. Talk about wishing something was a dream.

  She moved her legs and felt the softness of the sheets. Pulling the sheet open, she peered in and saw her naked body. She jerked the sheet back to her body and tucked it tightly around her.

  "Where are my clothes? Who took them?"

  "A woman with curiosity. Who would have figured that?” Colin crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair.

  "Jerk. Answer me.” She tucked the sheet around her even more.

  He smiled brightly. “You were asleep when I found you."

  "You!"

  "Me.” Casual responses in stressful situations annoyed the shit out of her. Did people do that just to annoy others, or were they trying to be cute? Either way, they pissed her off.

  "I don't want you to undress me. Where are my clothes now?"

  He examined the cuff of his pants casually. “I heard no complaints from you last night."

  "What?” Pitiful. Her question was weak and barely heard even by her.

  "In fact, you cu
rled up right inside my arms after I laid you down."

  Trying as hard as she could, she couldn't remember that. No, she did remember something pleasant and a protective set of arms. “You're lying. You have to be."

  "No, I'm not. I found you in this chair and carried you to the bed.” He lowered his leg and leaned forward. “Naturally, I couldn't allow you to sleep in a corset. Very uncomfortable. So, I undressed you. Piece by piece. I held you in my arms and watched you sleep."

  "That's freaky.” She couldn't think of anything more eloquent to say at the moment.

  "Why?"

  "Cause it shows how really weird you are. Loved ones do that for one another, not near strangers and certainly not dead people. And don't even get me started on the fact that you want to kill me!"

  "And you're an authority on dead people now?” How easily he side stepped the killing her part.

  "I know what I've been told by people who would know."

  "Tell me, did these other people tell you that there were dead people who still have sex?"

  That question caused her to pause. Dead people weren't supposed to even talk let alone have sex. “Well, I know what I've been told, and I thought you didn't have any feelings for me. Why the interest in my comfort?"

  Nothing anyone had ever told her about the dead applied to this bizarro train ride. In fact, nothing she had ever believed seemed to matter here. Having sex with total strangers! Who the hell was she anyway?

  "That's what I do here.” He looked puzzled now. “But I can't understand how you found my private car."

  "Yours?"

  "Yes. No one has ever been here before. What were you thinking of before you entered this car?"

  "Listen. This is all fascinating, but I'm not comfortable talking to you from your bed and in the nude."

  He nodded thoughtfully. “I would have thought you would trust me after last night."

  "Why? What happened?"

  He chuckled. “I told you all that happened. The fact that I didn't seduce you is what I had hoped would convince you to trust me."

  She gave him that look. The look that meant someone was pushing the edges of the reality envelope. “Get real. You didn't seduce me in an effort to seduce me? How dumb do you think I am?"

  "I don't think you're dumb. I don't understand you at all.” Now, he sounded a tad sore.

  "I would thank you, but I still don't think I like you undressing me.” He would just have to get over it. She couldn't be too concerned with the sensitivity of a man who just undressed her.

  He stood. “There will be a party tonight."

  "A party? On a train? A train destined for..."

  The train's whistle blew, and Colin smiled.

  "It will comprise of about three cars. You'll see. We make things happen here."

  "Why? If all these people are evil and doomed, why have a party?"

  "For someone who doesn't want to be judged by others, you sure don't mind being a judge.” He stared accusingly at her.

  She narrowed her eyes.

  "However, it was requested by a passenger who doesn't have far to go."

  She looked at the blanket jumbled up at her feet. “Do I have far to go?"

  "You've already been farther than most, but, for all I know, you may not see the party tonight."

  The breath flew from her lungs. Looking to Colin, she saw no emotion, just the flexing of his jaw. Of course, he checks emotions with the baggage. That's all they are to him. Baggage. Just like her.

  "I'll decide about the party later. Right now, I'll just stay in bed."

  He arched a brow.

  "Alone.” She pulled the sheet up over her shoulder and turned her back to him.

  She heard him move closer. One finger trailed down her spine and stopped just above her ass.

  "I don't understand you, Donnice. You have sex with two complete strangers within the same day, even display yourself for me, but ignore my advances."

  She thought of so much she could say just then. She opened her eyes. “You're the one who dropped me cold last night."

  "You were talking nonsense. Things that the dead-to-be can't indulge in."

  "Dead-to-be,” she whispered.

  "Feelings can't be shared when you don't know how long you have. You could vanish within the next five minutes."

  "Is that it? You're afraid I'll just leave you.” She rolled over to look at him. If he said yes, she would have him. He didn't just toss emotions aside.

  Colin stood perfectly still. “Come to the party, or not. It makes no difference to me. Please yourself here."

  She watched him turn and exit. That was it. He was afraid to feel anything. No. Like he said, she twisted things to fit her mood. He most likely didn't feel anything. He just told her the facts, and she allowed herself to imagine the rest.

  Think about it, he deals with dying people all the time. After awhile, he had to grow numb to survive like a nurse with Hospice. He can't allow himself to get too involved. It would hurt too badly.

  He had been a prisoner of war. He was most likely tortured if he turned into a killer. That had to have mixed him up in the head as a result, too.

  So, he wasn't born a ... a whatever he is. He became something that fed off of the souls of others—a soul vampire of sorts. How often did he feed? Did he have his choice of passengers?

  She stared at the intricately painted ceiling she had overlooked last night. The heavenly cherubs, white doves before clouds, sunrays, and serene skies were so out of place on this train of horrors. It belonged in some old English manor.

  One tiny angel held a shell up to the mouth of another angel—a beautiful and natural drinking cup. Colin would have to get close, as close as that to drink the soul of someone, she assumed. He can't eat what isn't there. Sex would get someone real close.

  Her eyes widened. “That's it. He only wants sex to get close to someone.” That had to be why he wanted her but had no feelings for her.

  "Talk about your crime of passion. Well, I've figured him out now. There's no way he's making dinner out of me."

  She sat up. “Where's the bathroom?” She was nearly dead, not completely dead. “And where are my clothes?"

  No way. She looked on the floor of the small compartment. Did he leave her here with no clothes? What kind of sick joke is that? Looking around the room, she noticed that the shades were up now. She could see much better. A small door on the far wall stood cracked open.

  "Huh. A closet.” She opened it. The closet held enough frilly things to make even Marie happy. “Of course. He likes these things. Why not keep a steady supply for any female passengers willing to play Little Bo Peep?"

  She closed her eyes and grabbed one. Peeking with one eye, she shrugged as she grabbed a blue silky thing with tons of lace and, of course, a cinched waist. What was it with the uncomfortable clothes that men couldn't get enough of them? But just ask one to wear a dinner jacket! Please.

  She looked back in the closet. Folded at the bottom were lacy little panties, hose, and satin shoes. Wait, she had seen all of this before. It was Marie's things. He brought them here. She looked to the door he exited through. He had known? No. Maybe they had been in storage, and he just brought them in here for her. That made just about as much sense.

  She sighed and carried the things over to the bed. Since her sensible clothing was gone, she would have to dress like a character in Little Women. The hated corset was at the bottom of the pile. Looking at the dress again, it required something tight to get everything crammed into that waist.

  She wrestled with the corset, pulled up the hose, and hooked them to the corset. Honestly, how did women survive in the past? Stepping into the shoes, she lowered the dress over her head. She walked to the mirror on the closet door.

  She couldn't believe what she saw. “Pretty damn good if I do say so myself.” She smiled. “Oh.” She pulled the door open and rummaged around for a comb or brush. “Ah ha.” She closed the door again and brushed out her hair.

>   "There now. If I can do whatever I want to please me.” She smiled. “I will."

  She thought of a bathroom just before opening the door of the car. A bathroom opened up to her. It was huge—the size of a whole passenger car. It had beautiful mosaic tiles, a claw foot tub, and a modern looking walk-in shower. Anything she could think of, it was there.

  After relieving herself, not an easy task in her period style clothing, she brushed her teeth and smiled into the bathroom mirror. She could take on anything, even a man who pissed her off more than any other man. Just thinking about him ... No. She wasn't going to get angry. She could do anything she wanted. If that meant she didn't have to see him, then so be it.

  She looked into the bathroom cabinets. Maybe she could do something else to make herself feel more empowered. That's exactly what it was. For the first time, she really felt like she could do anything she wanted.

  There was no boss to harass her. No nosy women to criticize her. No punk kid to talk about the way she dressed. No one.

  She found a bottle of red hair dye. Perfect. What would it be like to not look so ... “Patricia.” She picked up the bottle and stared at it while speaking. “You tried to tell me. You tried to explain it all. All I had to do was relax."

  She closed the cabinet door while reading the directions. It didn't look so hard. In twenty minutes, she would look totally different—a different woman for a different life. “Sure. A life that may only last an hour, but what an hour it would be. Now, all I have to do is get undressed, dye my hair, and dress again.” She sighed. Easier said than done.

  Chapter Eight

  She thought of the passenger car with all the people as she opened the door, and there it was. The passengers were looking the other way. Good. As brave as she was, she wasn't ready for all those eyes.

  She began walking to the door on the other side. Perhaps all she would do was walk around for a little while. The party wasn't for hours. She walked at a steady pace. God, people were looking at her. She swallowed. No eye contact. She paused. Why not? She could do anything, and anything included flirting.