Welcome to Nevermore Bookshop

by Steffanie Holmes

  Through my Mina haze, Mrs. Ellis’ words reached my ears. “—if I were you, I’d have both of them. Imagine being the pickle in the middle of that beef sandwich—”

  Mina’s cheeks flushed with color, and the thought that she might find that idea even the tiniest bit appealing made a faint moan escape my lips. Mmmm, this day is going to be such exquisite torture.

  If I survived six hours in Mina’s presence without sliding my hand beneath that jacket or unlacing those leggings, I deserved a fucking medal.

  I grabbed Mina’s arm and yanked her inside, pulling her against my body in the narrow hallway. This close, her scent wafted across my nostrils – zesty orange blossom, with a hint of smoky cedar – and I forced myself to resist the urge to bury myself in her neck and breathe her in. My fingers pressed against her skin, feeling her racing pulse.

  “Good morning, gorgeous.” I kissed her forehead. Mina’s eyes fluttered shut, her eyelashes tangling together. My cock strained against my waistband, demanding I throw her up against the wall and defile her right there.

  Patience, my son. First, comes the wooing. Then the defiling.

  “You took your time rescuing me.” Mina managed to untangle herself from my grip. “Mrs. Ellis was about to lecture me on my sex life.”

  I gave her a gentle push toward the door. “Get back out there. I want to hear this.”

  Her cheeks flushed again. “No time. We’ve got a train to catch. I need my own key.”

  “You can tell that to Heathcliff while I finish getting ready. That is, if you can rouse him.”

  Mina followed me up the stairs to the flat. She went over to the fireplace and attempted to shake Heathcliff awake, while I coaxed a reluctant raven into his cage.

  I’m not sure this is a good idea, Morrie. What if I transform on the train?

  Then everyone at Charing Cross will get an eyeful of your glorious body, and there will be much rejoicing. C’mon, Little Birdie, you want to hang out with Mina, don’t you? This is the only way.

  Into the cage he went, with far too much cursing considering I’d thrown some berries in there. Don’t let anyone say I’m uncaring.

  Mina finished berating Heathcliff over the key situation, then she and I departed for the station. I kept up a brisk pace so she had to scramble to catch up with me – it wouldn’t do to have her completely at ease. It was all part of the wooing, you see.

  The train pulled up just as Mina stepped onto the platform, her chest heaving, her hair tousled by the wind, and her natural scent mingling with her perfume – making her even more irresistible. We found our reserved seats, and I settled Quoth opposite Mina, then slid in next to her.

  Mina reached into her bag for a battered paperback, but I had other plans. I whipped out my magnetic chess set and arranged the pieces, turning the board so the white pieces faced her. “Ladies first.”

  She set down her book and flashed me one of those Mina smiles, the ones that made my cock dance a little jig and my chest do this odd tightening thing, like I was having a heart attack but in a good way. “How magnanimous of you. You won’t be so nice to me after I kick your arse.”

  I trounced her soundly five games in a row. She let me gloat about my victories, which I appreciated – Heathcliff never allowed me a moment of victory. He would’ve thrown the chessboard at my head. While we played, Quoth fed me all kinds of questions he wanted to know about Mina, and I threw in a few of my own. Normally, I found normal humans lead dull and insipid lives, which is why I enjoy messing with them so much. But as Mina talked about growing up on the estate and moving to New York City and that strange shouty music she liked, I found myself utterly entranced. It helped that she curled her hair around her finger as she talked, and I couldn’t help but imagine what that same hair would look like fanned over a St. Andrew’s Cross.

  As we reset the pieces for another game, I slid my finger over Mina’s knuckles. Her breath hitched at my touch, and she dropped the queen. It tumbled down the aisle and I had to race after it, scrambling on my knees in an undignified way. But it was worth it.

  The wooing was complete. My own pulse raced now, as I considered all the filthy, delicious things I wanted to do to her body, how I would tie her up and make her beg, how I would make her squirm and moan and scream beneath me—

  Stop thinking disgusting things, Quoth scolded me as we exited the train. Being in your head is like living inside a campy erotic horror film. Mina’s not going to go for any of your kinky fantasies, so cut it out.

  No can do, Little Birdie, I shot back. Your options are either to get out of my head or enjoy the show.

  The train pulled in, and we stepped out into the heaving, churning mob of people and noise and scent that was London. I breathed in deep, letting my mind linger for a moment on the memories of what this city had once been and what I had been to it. Neither time nor distance nor fact versus fiction could slough away the web I had built, and now, I returned once more to feed.

  “Is it weird being here?” Mina asked as we stepped out of the station and London gathered us into her wanton embrace.

  “Why would it be weird?” I flicked my thumb over the map on my phone, plotting our path to Holly Santiago’s boutique.

  “When you knew London, we didn’t even have automobiles. It must have been a very different city.”

  Different, and yet, exactly the same.

  I looked up from the screen, catching the earnestness in her face, and I struggled to keep the bitterness out of my voice as I replied. “The London I knew never existed. It was a fiction – one man’s interpretation of what he wanted London to be, a backdrop for his pantomime of good versus evil. Arthur Conan Doyle was right about one thing, though. London has always been and will always be the great meeting place of culture, as well as the nexus of all crime. Everything of interest that happens in this world links back to London.”

  Mina clenched her jaw, and I knew from the determined look in her eye that she was about to confront me with... well, with myself. “Morrie, did you really do all those things Sherlock Holmes said of you in the books?”

  “Of course.”

  “You were… you are… the organizer of half that is evil and of nearly all that is undetected in this great city?”

  “That’s what it says on my business cards.”

  Mina bit her lip, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. I had to breathe hard to maintain my thin veneer of decorum. If I pinned her against that telephone pole and slipped my fingers through those laces, what would she do?

  I bet it would stop her pursuing this line of inquiry. Or perhaps I’d need to tie the laces around—

  “Croak!” Quoth scolded me.

  “You realize that makes it difficult for me to like you, to trust you,” Mina glared at me. “Why do you have to be a criminal now? You have a new chance at life, a chance to be better. Why fall back into the same pattern?”

  That’s exactly the question someone like Mina would ask, someone who was bothered by pesky things like morality and being an upstanding citizen. I bet she even pays her taxes. I leaned forward so our bodies were almost touching, so that all either of us would have to do was move an inch and we’d be pressed together with the tension coiling around us like a shower of sparks. Heat sizzled in the air as I reached down, walking my fingers across the back of her hand until she sucked in a breath. I pulled her book from her bag and waved it in front of her face. “Because of this.”

  Mina blinked, reeling from my sudden change of tack. “I’m confused.”

  It was a book of feminist essays. “I found this in the shop when I first arrived in this world. This ‘feminism’ was not even a concept when I first built my empire, but it immediately appealed to me. In this author, I sense a kindred spirit. The power structures of this world are heavily weighted in favor of a handful of people, many of whom obtained that power by nefarious means while convincing themselves they are morally just. I have no patience for morals, but I do so love chaos. The world th
is author advocates, this fair and equitable world, it is the chaos. I am here to be better, Mina. Instead of reinforcing the power structures I helped to build, I aim to throw a wrench into the works and jiggle things out of place.”

  She punched me in the shoulder. “But you’re a privileged white man!”

  “Exactly.” The buzzer sounded and we crossed the street. Mina stared up at me with those saucer eyes and my cock took over command. I made a split-second decision, placing my hand on Mina’s arm and directing her into a deserted alley. “I’m bringing down the system from within.”

  “I’m not sure you’ve entirely grasped the concept of feminism, but I’ll give you points for trying.” Mina was still trying to argue an intellectual point, even though her voice dropped and those wide eyes peered at me, begging me to make my move.

  “Do I get points for this?” I whipped her body against mine, pressing her into the stone wall, and slammed my lips against hers.

  This is a mistake.

  I knew it as soon as we touched, when my carefully-crafted control slipped from me, when the monster inside me took over.

  I knew it because she tasted like all the dark secrets I hid from the world, from myself. I knew because kissing her made me dizzy inside, as if I stood on the edge of a perilous cliff, hovering over the crushing power of a waterfall.

  My eyes locked on hers, and in those green orbs I saw my destruction. Mina was my Reichenbach Falls. She was my doom, and this kiss was me stepping over the edge into oblivion.

  But bloody hell, was my fall going to be fucking spectacular.

  My tongue tangled with hers, and it was hot and messy and desperate in a way I’d never felt before. I didn’t just want her, I needed her with a ferocity that clawed at my chest and turned my brain into a marshmallow while veins caught fire.

  Quoth squawked in protest as his cage clattered on the cobbles, but I was so far gone I didn’t give a shit. All that existed was her - her lips on mine, her tongue plunging deep, exploring my mouth as she wormed her way into my mind and heart and soul. Damn you, Mina Wilde, damn you to blighty for doing this to me.

  My hands were everywhere, carving her body into my memory. My cock rubbed against her thigh and I was so far gone I groaned into her mouth, groaned like I was the one who’d fucking lost control, like I was plummeting into the churning waters below and I didn’t even care.

  I touched the laces, her laces, and I had to pause for a moment or I’d have made a mess of myself right there. The waistband of her leggings was elastic and I slid my hand underneath, stroking her through her panties, feeling how wet she was for me.

  Mina’s eyes widened as I pushed the offending fabric aside and thrust a finger into her wetness. “People will see,” she whimpered, but her head rolled back and I couldn’t help but noticed she hadn’t demanded I stop.

  “Let them see.” I captured her lips as I stroked my finger insider her. “Let them see a woman in charge of her own pleasure.”

  So warm, so tight, so perfect. I thrust a second finger inside me and swirled my thumb against her clit. I needed her to come for me, I needed to see her undone before she undid me completely. Mina squirmed beneath my touch, but I clutched her to me, forcing her to stare into my eyes, to stay in the moment, to cling to me as though her life fucking depended on it.

  Mina’s lips parted, and her fingers tightened, nails digging into my skull. I relished the pain – a physical manifestation of her need. My thumb worked her harder, faster, swirling in her juices and driving her to the edge of her own cliff. I needed her to need me, to cry in desperation, to give herself over to her wanton passion.

  I needed to feel in control again.

  “Bite me, gorgeous.” I placed my other hand across her lips. Obedient in a way that nearly sent me reeling, Mina’s eyes were wide as saucers but she bit down as her body shuddered through her orgasm.

  Her head rolled back and this sexy sigh escaped her. She turned to liquid in my arms, and I had to slide my fingers out of her to grab her hip and hold her upright.

  “Whoa,” she whispered, and her cheeks flushed again – the prettiest pink color.

  “Plenty more where that came from. You have only to inquire.” I held up her hand and kissed it. As Mina regained the ability to hold herself upright, I stepped away to give her the space to straighten her clothes.

  Enjoy the show, Little Birdie? I smirked inside my head. Yes, Quoth could sense my smirk in my thoughts. It was a talent I had.

  You’re sick, he shot back. And yes. Yes, I did.

  Quoth’s right. I am sick. I smoothed down my jacket, tsking at the creases and taking a moment to adjust myself so my erection wouldn’t terrify children. As much as I desired to finish what we’d started, as much as the thought of being inside Mina Wilde made my head spin in the most delicious and terrifying way, I knew this was better.

  Controlling myself now would make the moment when we toppled over the edge together that much sweeter.

  4

  HEATHCLIFF

  Alternative POV chapter

  “Fuck.” I tossed a pair of jeans with a huge brown sauce stain on the knee over my shoulder. Why the fuck haven’t I done the washing, ever?

  “Bollocks.” Why didn’t I have any clean socks?

  “Cocksucker.” A shirt that upon first glance looked adequate turned out to have been used by Grimalkin for regurgitating a recent kill. I threw it away in disgust and continued digging.

  “What’s the matter—argh!” Morrie yelled as the flying clothing hit him in the face. He made a gagging noise as he threw off the offending item. “Don’t do that again. That shirt is a biohazard. I could’ve been poisoned.”

  “Good.” Fuck, fuck, there must be something I can wear. “That would be one less vexation in my life.”

  “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Morrie’s lips curved back into that bloody smirk as he leaned back against the doorframe, folding his arms across that perfectly-tailored suit of his. That’s the kind of guy Mina goes for, all dolled up, sharp edges, shiny uncomfortable shoes. I’ll never be that guy, so what’s the point—

  “I have nothing to wear on my date,” I growled. My hands balled into fists. This is pointless. I’ll call off the whole thing.

  “Relax, Cinderella. Your Morrie Godmother is here to save the day.” Morrie disappeared for a moment, returning just as I’d located a bottle of Glenfiddich hidden under the corner of my mattress and was taking a long swig.

  Morrie knocked the bottle from my hand. “Mina won’t appreciate alcohol on your breath. Here.” He thrust something soft and fresh-smelling into my hands. “See if this fits.”

  I stared down at a black shirt shot with threads of silver that caught the light, made of some soft material that I would never in a million years have picked out for myself. Miraculously, it was my size. I tugged off the threadbare white shirt I had on. Morrie’s lip curled up in appreciation as his gaze flicked over my bare chest. I dragged the shirt over my head and Morrie licked his lips, that evil smirk of his setting off a gnawing ache in my gut. “What do you know, I have exquisite taste. And I guessed your size perfectly.”

  “Why do you have a shirt in my size?”

  Fuck, I do not need Morrie’s shite right now.

  “Because, I’m a genius. When I told Mina she had to sample both you and Quoth alongside my magnificence, I knew she’d ask you on a date because she’s been eye-fucking you ever since she started working here. I also knew that you’d be woefully unprepared, and so I chose to be your knight in shining armor.” Morrie stepped across a pile of soiled clothing, standing chest to chest with me, his pouting lips and stupid lavender and vanilla scent dangerously close. His ice eyes met mine, and he purred. “Doesn’t your knight deserve a kiss?”

  I planted my palms against his chest and shoved him. He staggered against the detritus on the floor, grabbing the door frame before he went down in an undignified heap.

  My chest heaved as I fought for breath. Morrie alw
ays did this to me, sucked all the air out of the room.

  As if the moment had never happened, Morrie was all business again. He whipped a pair of trousers from the back of my closet. “These are only slightly wrinkled, and I’ll give you a fresh pair of socks, which I do not wish to have returned. Now, get in the shower and wash yourself. And for heaven’s sake, tidy up that beard.”

  I snarled at him as I whipped the clothes out of his hand, and slammed the bathroom door in his face. I ripped off the shirt and dropped my trousers and boxers, ignoring the tremble in my hands as I climbed into the tub.

  Hot water battered my body but did nothing to calm the storm of nerves and desires and rage that welled inside me. I hadn’t dated anyone since Cathy… since she’d agreed to marry Linton, and I’d run away and found myself in the non-fictional world where the love of my life only existed on the pages of a book. The world where I’d learned how love had turned me bitter and cruel, and how I’d vowed that I’d never love and yet turned bitter and cruel all the same.

  I never thought there could be another girl who made me feel like Cathy, who found something in the darkness within me worthy of love. But Mina… Mina didn’t just crave my darkness, she made me feel as though I might one day see the light. And while Cathy was still a girl when I last laid eyes on her, Mina was all woman.

  I spent longer in the shower than I’d spent there all year, emptying bottles of Morrie’s bath products over my body as if that would somehow imbue me with his charm and decorum. I tripped over my towel getting out of the tub, so obviously it didn’t work. I writhed in self-loathing, slamming my fist into the mirror.

  SMASH.

  Glass shattered across the tiles

  I had to clean the blood and glass out of my knuckles so I didn’t get time to shave before Morrie called up that Mina was waiting. Fuck. I tried to run a comb through my hair but it got stuck. Bollocks to it all. I ripped the comb out and tossed it into the loo. It was Morrie’s, anyway. He could buy another.