Grave Attraction (9 page)

He set the beer down and crossed the room, not stopping until they were inches apart. This close, she could feel the heat from his gaze and smell the masculine scent of his skin. Her body responded, the mate bond burning in her blood like molten lava, demanding that she reclaim what she'd lost over four centuries ago.

“What do you think you're doing?” It took considerable effort to keep her voice from shaking.

He braced both arms against the counter, caging her in. The playful gleam in his eyes was long gone, replaced with something far more dangerous. “What does it look like?”

Her mouth went dry as a hot, aching need pulsed deep in her core. Was it fair to take what he offered when he didn't know the truth about his past? “But we—you—”

The protest died on her lips when Adam's mouth covered hers, and her body lit up like a torch. His fingers tangled in her hair, holding her in place while his mouth did amazing things. Licking. Nipping. Hungry. Hot. When she moaned, his tongue slipped past her lips, and fire raced through her belly.

While his lips and tongue caressed her, one of his hands skimmed down her neck, over her collarbone, and cupped her breast. She arched against him, and his thumb brushed her nipple, sending a bolt of pleasure straight to her sex. God, she couldn't remember the last time she allowed a man to touch her this way. Years? Decades? It didn't matter. She didn't care. All of her thoughts dissolved at the feel of his hands on her, his mouth on her, exploring her body like he owned it.

His hand left her breast and inched lower, pausing for a moment to pop the fly of her jeans and ease the zipper down. One of his fingers traced over the waistband of her panties, and the liquid heat between her legs exploded in a powerful rhythm.

She wanted him. Needed him. Felt like she'd die if she didn't have him. Reaching down, she placed her hand over the huge bulge at the front of his jeans. Adam groaned when she stroked him, his hips grinding against her hand while his mouth sucked on the hollow of her neck.

His fingers slipped lower, inside her panties and past the curls covering her sex. One finger caressed her, and she gasped.

“Oh, kitten,” he growled. “You're soaking wet.”

Slow and easy, he pushed two fingers inside her while his palm rubbed over her clit. She shivered as arousal flashed through her body.

“Do that again,” she said, her voice husky.

His laughter was like dark smoke. Every touch made her hotter, and her inner muscles clenched around him like a vise. She sucked in a breath when he found her sweet spot, trembling when he set up a rhythm that brought her closer and closer to climax.

“That's it, kitten. Let it go,” he said, his breath hot against her neck.

He sucked the sensitive skin at the hollow of her shoulder while his fingers drove her pleasure even higher. A delicious sensation coiled inside her, tighter and tighter until it became almost unbearable. The heat. The friction. God, it had been so long. She was close ... so very close ...

The stairs creaked, Marlena froze, and all of her hot, tingly feelings got doused by an ice-cold bucket of reality.

Adam pulled his head back, his eyes heavy-lidded. “What's wrong?”

“Marley, is that you?” Cassie called out. There was another creak, louder this time, which meant the witch was about halfway down the staircase.

The lust in Adam's eyes evaporated. They gave each other an “oh shit” look right before Marlena broke contact and tore across the room like her hair was on fire. Adam strode to the table and picked up his beer, shifting his posture in a way that made his erection less noticeable. Embarrassed, Marlena smoothed her hair with her hands, hoping Cassie wouldn't figure out what they'd been up to.

A few seconds later, Cassie breezed into the room, stopping short when she caught sight of them. “Oh, there you are. I was starting to think I was hearing things.”

“We just got in a few minutes ago.” Like a dork, she pointed to the bag on the counter by the refrigerator. “Let me know if that's not enough pawpaw and demon horn.”

“You found both?” Cassie beamed with pleasure. Like a kid on Christmas morning, she tore open the bag and emptied its contents onto the counter. “Oh, this should be plenty. Thank you both!”

“You're welcome,” Adam said. “It's the least I can do after all your help.” He downed the last of his beer and set the empty bottle on the table. “I better get going. I have an appointment in a couple hours, and my boss will skin me if I'm late.”

His gaze met Marlena's, the arousal in his eyes so dark and intense it filled her with sensual heat. His hair was still sticking up in a few places, and his lips were red and swollen from kissing her. Unable to resist, she flicked a glance at the fly of his jeans. Yep, still hard. At least she wasn't the only one still feeling the effects of their encounter.

With a devilish grin, he stuck the tip of his index finger in his mouth and sucked it clean. “See you tomorrow, Marley.”

Wait a minute. Had she forgotten something? “But—but we didn't make plans for tomorrow.”

“I know, but I'm still coming over.” His grin widened, and the promise in his eyes made him look like unadulterated sin. Without taking his eyes off her, he reached into his pocket and retrieved his keys. “See you around ten.”

Before she could tell him that her kickboxing class started at nine thirty, he strode from the kitchen and out the front door. A few seconds later she heard his truck rumble to life. She peered through the curtains, watching the truck's taillights fade from sight before turning back to face Cassie.

Judging by the witch's expression, she knew exactly what she'd interrupted. “Oh, stop looking at me like that. Nothing happened.”

Cassie laughed as she loaded the supplies back in the bag. “You're such a lousy liar. Next thing you'll tell me you got that mark on your neck from a mosquito bite.” She glanced down. “By the way, your pants are unbuttoned.”

Marlena's face flamed with embarrassment. Without looking down, she fastened her jeans. Then she thought about where Adam's hand had been, and the things he'd done to her, and she nearly groaned out loud. “Oh, Cassie. What the hell am I doing?”

“Enjoying yourself. It's allowed, you know.”

“Yeah, but it's not fair to him when he has no idea about our history.”

“Then tell him.”

“Are you kidding?” Marlena scoffed. “He'll think I'm nuts if I tell him he's the reincarnation of my long-deceased husband.”

Cassie leaned back against the stove, her arms folded across the front of her pale yellow blouse. “The man reaps souls for a living. Give him a little credit for having a flexible mind.”

“He'd have to be more flexible than a gymnast.” Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair. “Hell, if I'm having such a hard time accepting the truth, how can I expect him to believe me?”

Cassie's features softened. “It's a tough situation, I'll give you that. But you've been alone for an awful long time, and you deserve a chance to be happy.”

The last time she'd taken a lover was during Cassie's freshman year of college. And before that ... well, she couldn't remember. “I'm not alone. I have you and the coven.”

“And as much as we adore you, we're no replacement for what you've lived without.” Cassie reached out and squeezed Marlena's hand. The old witch's skin felt cool to the touch but vibrant with life. “After all these years, you've been given a gift. Don't give up on it because you're scared.”

Marlena opened her mouth to deny being afraid, but closed it when she realized she was. An ocean of worries flooded her mind, each one making her more nervous than the one before.

“What if he can't love me?” There, she'd said it. Her biggest fear.

“Then he's a fool. I doubt that's the case, but if it is, he's not worth any more of your time. And with him alive, you're free to break the mate bond and find someone else who's worthy.”

A
dam ran the past week's terminations through his head, searching for one gruesome enough to put a damper on his raging erection. At last, he found one in the form of an accident involving an overworked truck driver and a roadside construction worker who hopefully never saw it coming.

Even then, he still couldn't completely force Marlena from his thoughts.

What the fuck was wrong with him, mauling her like that? It was a damn good thing she hadn't decked him for acting like an animal. He totally would have deserved it. The decadent taste of her lingered in his mouth, the sweet scent of her skin in his nostrils. The feel of her, so hot, so wet—shit, now the boner was back.

What was it about her that shot his libido into overdrive? He'd had plenty of other women in his life. Tall, short, blond, brunette, and everything in between. But something about the gorgeous little shifter turned his crank like nothing he'd experienced before.

After a quick trip through the drive-thru, Adam headed for home. He was late, and he could only imagine what Samuel had been up to while he'd been gone. Since Dmitri had a prior commitment that afternoon, Gwen had stayed at the house to keep an eye on the boss. And considering how she felt about Samuel, it would be a wonder if the man didn't have any broken bones.

“It's about time you got back,” Samuel said the instant he stepped through the door. He was wearing a pair of Adam's gray sweatpants and a plain black shirt. “This bloody woman treats me like a leper, and the dog won't leave me alone.”

Sure enough, Buford was lying on the couch beside Samuel, his big square head resting on Samuel's thigh.

Gwen snorted from her seat at the bar. She was wearing a shoulder holster over her shirt with what looked like a 9mm tucked in it. Her cell phone was on the bar, right next to a paperback novel. “I treat you better than you deserve.”

Oh, boy. Guess that answered his question about how well they got along in his absence. If he didn't find a way to restore Samuel's powers soon, he'd have World War III in his house.

“Are you staying for dinner?” he asked Gwen, holding the takeout bag high enough for her to see. “I bought enough for three.”

“Smells good, but no, thanks. I'm meeting Dmitri in an hour.”

After setting the takeout on the counter, Adam opened the pantry and dragged out the jumbo bag of dog food. At the sound of dinner going into his bowl, Buford leaped off the couch and trotted into the kitchen.

“Sit,” Adam told the mutt, and for once, Buford actually obeyed. Must have been showing off for company. He left the bowl on the counter while he put the bag back in the pantry. “Good boy. Here you go.”

Buford gobbled his dinner down as soon as it touched the floor. When he finished, he licked the empty bowl halfway across the kitchen tiles and then looked up at Adam as if he expected a second serving.

“That's it, buddy.” He opened the sliding glass door and the dog sauntered outside to do his business.

“Will you need one of us to watch him tonight?” Gwen asked as she stood. There was a note in her voice that made it perfectly clear she hoped the answer was no. She shrugged on a light jacket that concealed her weapon but was guaranteed to make her sweat like a pig once she set foot outside.

“No, we're good.” That was a lie. He had a soul to reap in a couple hours, but considering the friction between these two, he decided it was better to drag Samuel along.

“Suit yourself. What time do you need us tomorrow?”

“Hold on, let me check.” Grabbing his phone, he pulled up his calendar and scrolled through the next day's terminations. “I've got an eight twenty out near Baldwin Park, so I'll have to be on the road around seven.”

“You got it. One of us will be here before you go.” She shoved her purse up higher on her shoulder before leaving out the front door.

“Spiteful woman,” Samuel murmured as soon as the door clicked shut. “Do you have any idea what she made me do while you were gone?”

Adam held a hand up, signaling for Samuel to stop. “No, and I don't want to know.” Although a part of him was insanely curious. “Are you hungry? I brought dinner.”

The bossman grumbled something under his breath as he got off the couch and stalked to the kitchen table. Curiosity showed on his face when he asked, “What is it?”

Adam pulled the bucket and boxes from the bag. The scent of fried food permeated the air, making his stomach growl. “Fried chicken. Ever had it?”

“Of course I've had—well, no, not fried.” Samuel sniffed the air. “It smells good.”

“There's French fries in the box.” He set a plate on Samuel's side of the table. “Dig in.”

Samuel stared down at his plate. “Where are the utensils?”

Was he serious? “You don't eat fried chicken with utensils. Just pick it up with your hands.”

Samuel stared at him like he'd just sprouted a second head. “That's uncivilized.”

“No, it's not. It's the way fried chicken's meant to be eaten.” Dammit, he was tired, horny, hungry, and not in the mood to argue over the right way to eat chicken. With a disgusted huff, he went to the kitchen and brought back a set of silverware. “Here,” he said as he slapped the utensils down by Samuel's plate.

“Thank you.”

Ignoring his boss, Adam dug two pieces of chicken from the bucket and dumped a handful of fries on his plate. After finishing that, he went back for seconds, polishing off another chicken breast and handful of fries. Stomach full, he licked the grease off his fingers. It reminded him of licking off the taste of Marlena, and half of the blood in his body went south. Great. Now he had a boner in front of his boss.

He glanced up and saw Samuel, knife and fork in his hands, hard at work trying to get all the meat off a chicken leg. “You're going to starve to death before you finish that.”

Samuel shot him a haughty glare. “It's proper etiquette.”

“I'm sure it is where you're from, but it's going to take you forever to finish.” Adam dumped the bones in the garbage and loaded his plate in the dishwasher. With Buford's trash-raiding tendencies in mind, he made a mental note to take the bag outside before leaving the house. “Ready or not, we're leaving in thirty. I've got an appointment down on the south side of town, and you're not staying here alone.”

 

Jeremiah knocked on the door to Marlena's apartment, knocked again when nobody answered. From what he'd observed, she wasn't at home, but it never hurt to be cautious. With creatures like these, getting sloppy could get a man killed, and he wasn't about to become a statistic.

The uniform he wore was similar to those used by the apartment complex's maintenance staff. It wasn't a perfect match, but unless he ran into the neighborhood busybody, he'd pass muster with anyone walking by. After making sure the coast was clear, he tucked his stun gun into his back pocket. Then he used the key he'd taken after he captured the creature to unlock the door and slip inside.

He stood motionless in the entryway for a long moment, listening for signs of anyone inside. Nothing. He let out the breath he'd been holding and slipped on a pair of rubber gloves. A flip of the switch, and the main living area flooded with light. The place was neat and sparsely decorated, with an overstuffed sofa in front of a flat-screen television and no pictures hanging from the walls. In the bedroom was a queen-size bed and simple dresser, and the kitchen was stocked with only the basic appliances. Simple. Utilitarian. So very unlike the creature who lived there.

The state of the apartment indicated that she hadn't been home since her abduction. The milk in the refrigerator was a few days past expiration, and the bananas in the fruit bowl were almost black. If he were a betting man, he'd wager she was staying with the old crone he'd seen her with during his initial surveillance. From what he'd seen, the two of them were close. If the old woman's neighbors weren't so damn nosy, he'd set up shop outside her house.

For the sake of being thorough, he checked the bedroom and bathroom. Sure enough, the toothbrush and shower stall were bone dry and a fine layer of dust covered the dresser.

Before leaving, he went to the kitchen and attached a small listening device under the countertop. The bug was voice activated and highly sensitive, so when the bitch came back he'd know in an instant. It was only a matter of time before she returned to her normal behaviors. It was the way these creatures operated.

And when she did, he'd be ready. He and Elias had spent the last day and a half outfitting one of the rooms in the rental house. The restraints weren't as strong as the ones back home, but they were good enough to get the job done.

 

“These shoes are too narrow. They hurt my feet,” Samuel groused from the passenger side of the truck.

Adam slanted a glare in Samuel's direction. The boss hadn't quit bitching about his shoes since they left the house. As it was, Adam had given him one of his best pairs of running shoes. But was that good enough for the picky son of a bitch? No, of course not.

In a way, he appreciated the distraction. If not for Samuel's constant whining, he'd still be obsessing over what he'd done with Marlena and what he still wanted to do. He craved her in a way that stunned and scared him, and he had no idea how to handle it. Even now, his body ached with the desire to bury himself deep in her wet heat. He shook off the thought, focusing instead on tonight's assignment.

They were parked along a quiet stretch of Orange Blossom Trail, not too far from the Gatorland theme park. The land along both sides of the road was undeveloped, leaving Adam without much choice other than to pull off onto the shoulder. He'd cut the engine only a few minutes ago, and the cab was already stuffy.

“When I'm done here, I'll take you to Walmart and buy you a pair that fits.”

“Good. And while we're there, you can also buy me suitable clothes.”

By “suitable” he meant expensive as hell. Like that was going to happen at Walmart. Samuel normally dressed in high-end suits finely tailored to fit his tall, slim frame. At first, he'd balked at the idea of wearing Adam's clothes, but had given in when he realized the only other alternative was to wrap a sheet around his body like a toga. Buying off the rack might give him a coronary, but at least it should be entertaining.

Adam checked his watch. Ten more minutes before the scheduled time of death. A faint hum of mortality pricked the night air, a reminder of death's insatiable appetite. An old, beat-up pickup pulled over along the opposite side of the road and killed the headlights. When a middle-aged man stepped out of the truck, the hum turned to a pulse in Adam's veins.

“What's he doing?” Squinting, Samuel leaned forward as the man walked over to a light pole with a pair of pliers in his hand.

“Stealing copper.” Thieves stripped the metal and sold it to scrapyards for pennies on the dollar. It had become a widespread problem in the Orlando area, with construction sites and abandoned homes the most common targets. But sometimes you ran into thieves who thought outside the box and pilfered metal from unusual places like light poles and household appliances. He saw a story on the news a couple days ago about a guy who cut the catalytic converters off over twenty cars at a dealership just so he could harvest the platinum inside.

The man forced open the electrical box and got busy with the pliers. Within seconds, the streetlight flickered and went dark, cloaking the thief in shadow. If not for the headlights of passing vehicles, he'd be impossible to make out. The pulse of death grew stronger as he tugged at the wires, pulling more and more metal from the box and dumping it onto the ground.

The thing about thieves was a lot of them didn't know when to quit. Like this guy. He could have taken off while he was ahead, but no, he had to go and get greedy. And that greed led him to cutting a live wire and frying himself to a crisp.

Samuel chuckled when the thief's lifeless body hit the ground. “Bet he won't do that again.”

Adam glared at him. “You think that shit's funny?”

“Yes, I do. Poetic justice, don't you think?”

It was, but that wasn't the point. Good Lord, would he eventually become that jaded over the loss of a man's life? Biting back his disgust, Adam got out of the truck and darted across the street. The thief's body lay in a heap beside the electrical box, the pliers still in his hand. Careful not to touch the dead man, Adam crouched down beside him. The thief's soul had already severed its ties with the flesh but had yet to abandon the body.

“I've got you,” Adam murmured as he reached out with his mind. He made quick work of harvesting the man's soul, mentally latching onto its essence and drawing it inside his own body. Once there, he corralled it into that special place designed to temporarily house the recently departed until he guided them to the afterlife.

Adam squeezed his eyes shut while he closed his mind off from the thief. It was either that or experience the soul's final thoughts, and he'd already had enough of those to last a lifetime.

As soon as he finished, he sprinted back across the street and climbed into the truck. He needed to get away from the scene before anyone happened to pass by. Later on, when he had both privacy and time, he'd complete the second half of the job and guide the man's soul to the hereafter.