Netherworld: Drop Dead Sexy

by Tracy St. John

  Chapter Four

  I struggled to not cry as we materialized in a sumptuous wonderland of grace and beauty.

  Okay, so it was just a hotel lobby. But what a lobby! The tears froze in my eyes, and then beat a hasty retreat as I goggled at the splendor around me. A grand gleaming white marble staircase lifted to the second floor like the proverbial stairway to heaven. Burgundy and gold wallpaper covered the walls, the floors were patterned tile, and a chandelier three times my size hung overhead. Rich fabrics upholstered the chairs and chaise lounges, trimmed with intricately carved wood. Hand-woven oriental rugs scattered among the seating areas. A large painting of a hunting scene hung over the giant fireplace from which golden flames crackled.

  It even smelled rich. Cigar and pipe smoke overlaid expensive perfumes and colognes. Intricate bouquets of exotic flowers decorated every surface, adding their heavy scents to the olfactory potpourri.

  I heard the far-off sounds of a Dixieland band, playing elsewhere in the hotel. The musicians managed to sound both jubilant and suppressed at once. I imagined were I to enter the room where they played, I would still be able to hear conversation easily. Not bopping a little to the lighthearted beat was impossible.

  All around me people of various eras glided past. Women in Victorian dress and high-plumed hats laughed with short-skirted flappers. Men in top hats and tails shook hands with Confederate officers in dress uniform. That sight bemused me; the King George Hotel had been built after the Civil War.

  Dan watched me as I got my first look at the legendary hotel. “Beautiful, isn’t it? This is the best part of our little netherworld.”

  “No wonder they never tried to rebuild it,” I whispered in awe. “It’s a palace. And look at the people from all different times. Wow, I want that dress.” I checked out a flapper clad in a gold dress. The fringe on it danced with her every move.

  Dan chuckled. “Don’t look now, but you’re wearing it. It looks good on you.”

  I looked down and squealed with delight. I wore the dress all right. It molded nicely to my body. The intricately stitched fabric was soft as butter against my skin. “Awesome! But I hate the shoes and it’s a terrible faux pas to wear the same thing as another woman. Maybe in blue with some beading?”

  The dress suddenly shaded a deep indigo with matching beads in a swirl pattern across my chest. Matching stiletto heels replaced the clunky 1920’s shoes, showing my thighs and calves to advantage in the short skirt.

  I was pleased to see Dan drink in my image like a man dying of thirst. “Very nice,” he said in a husky voice. “You should have been a designer. I especially like the shoes.”

  I twirled for him, sending the fringe swishing through the air. “I’m a clothes horse. You should see my closet at home.”

  A masculine voice called. “Mr. Saling, we still have a few rooms left for the night if you and your companion are interested?”

  I stopped my little girl show-off to look at the clerk standing behind the tall mahogany desk at the far end of the room. His dark hair was greased back from a middle part, his long mustache waxed to points. He smiled at me and nodded his head.

  Dan crooked an eyebrow at me as he ushered me towards the clerk with a hand in the small of my back. “What do you think, Brandilynn? We still have an hour or so before the vampires rise.”

  “I want to see everything.” I bubbled with delight to know being dead wasn’t all misery.

  Dan smiled and held out his hand to the clerk. “Your nicest left available then, Charles.”

  Charles handed him a gold key. “Room 436. Champagne, perhaps a small meal?”

  “We eat here?” I hadn’t felt hungry at all and was surprised to think food might be a need.

  “You can indulge in the illusion, though alcohol won’t get you drunk and hunger is never an issue.” Dan exchanged a grin with Charles, no doubt amused at my happy surprise. “Give us the works, would you Charles?”

  “Splendid, Mr. Saling. I’ll have everything sent right up.”

  Dan led me to the grand staircase where a tuxedoed man and a woman in a long sequined gown descended. They nodded at us.

  Dan said, “Except for the lobby, most of the ground floor is for official para business. Once in awhile, a big party is thrown in the ballroom.”

  We mounted the stairs and climbed to the second floor landing. I paused to look down at the grand lobby below before continuing up the next, smaller flight of stairs. The chandelier glowed like a dream on the lush scene. I couldn’t help the smile that threatened to break my face in two. Cinderella’s first glimpse of the Prince’s castle as she ventured into the ball couldn’t have been more breathtaking. I suddenly had the notion my parents, with their expensive homes and cars, were only pretenders to society.

  * * * *

  Sconces emitting golden glows lit our way down the fourth floor hallway. As we passed each closed door, muttered conversations, laughter, and the unmistakable sounds of lovemaking drifted out to greet us. It sounded more like a bordello than a fine hotel. High-pitched screams of completion made me grin at Dan.

  “My goodness. Somebody’s certainly enjoying herself.”

  “It sounds like it, doesn’t it?” Dan chuckled.

  We passed the door to another room from which more elated cries escaped.

  “In there too. What are these, honeymoon suites?”

  “We told you. Besides having sex, there’s not much else to do when you’re dead. Unless Tristan has you running a bunch of errands.” Dan considered me a moment before adding, “It feels like night has fallen. You think this is loud, you should hear the first floor, where the hotel’s old rooms still stand. That’s where the vampires feed on their blood donors.”

  My amusement fled. “I’ve never understood the attraction of being fed on like a leech.”

  “It’s quite arousing, from my understanding. For both vampire and donor. Fresh from the source is always preferred, though most vampires get along on the packaged stuff.”

  “Not enough bleeders to go around, huh?” I shuddered. “At least most of us have good sense.”

  “Usually the donors are romantically linked to their vampires, but you get the blood groupies too.” Dan shrugged.

  Just as I didn’t like to think of Dan as a murderer, I shied away from thinking of vampires feeding on my fellow humans. Jeez, Tristan was a vampire. Surely he drank the bottled blood though. Thinking of him chomping on someone’s neck grossed me out.

  I wondered about his reputation among those who knew him best. “Do you like Tristan?”

  “He’s fine, a decent man as a ghost. Honorable for a vampire. He keeps those of us who have something to offer busy.” Dan sighed. “The worst thing about being dead is the boredom. The world above keeps on going, but we’re stuck here, always the same.”

  I frowned. “But surely intelligent minds always find something to keep their interests?”

  “Even Plato ran out of things to ruminate about centuries ago.”

  I stopped, my mouth dropping open. “You know Plato?”

  Dan chuckled at the awe in my voice. “No, but I’ve read everything he’s written, including the stuff after he died. If you look around the library, you’ll find a lot of the greats are still creating if death hasn’t driven them insane.” He urged me forward, past more noisy rooms.

  “Does that happen a lot? People going insane?”

  “Unfortunately. The monotony of eternity is a brutal master. Here we are.” Dan stopped in front of a door. Using the gold key, he unlocked it. “After you, baby girl.”

  My thoughts a jumble of half-formed fears, I stepped into the room.

  The room was stunning, even a little overdone, but the King George had been all about opulence. The dark mahogany of the bed, dresser, and nightstands gleamed in the warmth of glass lamps. Over the ever-present whiff of burnt things floated the freshness of recently washed bed linens. A full bar sat in one corner, with a seating area nearby. A peek in the water closet reve
aled a deep free-standing bathtub. Everything was old-fashioned, but the finest of its day.

  Covered dishes lay on a table by the seating area. Delicious scents found their way over to tease my nostrils. A bottle of champagne sat in a bucket of ice. I shook my head and restrained myself from making the comment, this would be the life if I wasn’t dead.

  Sometimes I can control my impulses.

  Instead I said, “Now isn’t this just yummy? Thanks for indulging my curiosity,” I added as Dan stood patiently by while I investigated the room.

  He smiled. “It’s always interesting to see this place from the perspective of a new resident. Shall I pour some of that champagne?”

  “Lovely.” I turned in a slow circle, thinking something was off about the room. After a moment I had it. “It’s odd to be missing a TV.”

  “Television was long after this hotel’s time.” He popped the cork and quickly poured as champagne fizzed over the mouth of the bottle. “You can always go above ground and watch the living’s televisions.”

  I sat down at the table as Dan took the covers from our meal. I sniffed appreciatively at the baked salmon in a cream sauce, herbed green beans and scalloped potatoes baked in three cheeses. My mouth watered. “Is this real food or ghost food?”

  Dan laughed. “The bubbly is from the memory of a very good sommelier who worked in this hotel in the 1890’s, and the food is from the memory of a top chef who cooked for the Goulds when railroad barons were still in vogue.”

  “I’ve never tasted anyone’s memories before.” I took a cautious bite of the salmon, and moaned with near orgasmic delight as it practically melted in my mouth. The creamy sauce was the perfect mix of savory with a tinge of sweetness. After I swallowed I said, “This is weird to be dead and eating. Delicious but weird.”

  Dan raised his glass and I clinked mine to his. “Don’t worry. The novelty wears off soon enough.”

  We ate and drank in companionable silence for awhile. I found myself almost stopping after devouring half my plate. The old habit of calorie counting tried to have its way with me, and it took a few moments before I realized I could pig out without repercussions. After all, how would one get fat on memories? Feeling marvelously decadent, I cleaned my plate and sucked down three glasses of champagne. Dessert was a gorgeous confection of moist chocolate cake, strawberries and fudge sauce. I ate mine and half of Dan’s when he claimed he wasn’t much for chocolate.

  I couldn’t get drunk from the booze, but I felt giddy nonetheless from my feast. Portion control had so flown out the window. Sitting back in my chair with a contented sigh, I asked, “So what’s in store for the rest of the night? Obviously we don’t sleep.”

  Dan stretched. “We’ll go to tonight’s para meeting. Some of Tristan’s aides will want to question you, try to help you recover your memories.”

  “They’re all ghosts too, or can the other paras see me?”

  He shook his head. “You’ll have to enter the body of a living channel to speak to everyone.”

  I frowned. “What?”

  Dan reached to pat my hand. “Try not to worry about it yet. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

  He regarded me for a moment before carefully speaking again. “Can I ask something without offending?”

  I was pretty sure I knew what direction he was heading. “You mean about me being an escort?”

  He nodded. “Were you good at it? I mean, I know you’re pretty incredible with sex.” His sudden evil grin made me chuckle.

  “Thank you.”

  “But sex isn’t all of it, is it? Otherwise, you’d just be a prostitute.”

  I smoothed the fringe of my flapper dress and admired the beadwork. “For me, sex is only a small part of being an escort. In fact, I didn’t have to sleep with my clients at all, but they paid extra if I did, under the table. I planned to use the money to go back to school and take up fashion design.” I grinned. “As you noticed, I have a natural flair for it.”

  Dan smiled wistfully, almost as if sad for my missed opportunity. “You would have been good. You have excellent taste in clothes.”

  “Thank you.” I thought about my life and decided to come completely clean with him. After all, he’d shared his darkest secret with me. “I’d have probably done it without the money. The sex, I mean.”

  “Really?”

  I nodded. “I have a man-sized libido. I love sex. I might even have an addiction to it. Sometimes I wonder if I’m not a nymphomaniac.”

  “But whereas if it were me, a man sleeping with a bunch of women, it doesn’t play as ugly in society’s mind as when a woman does it.”

  “Exactly.” Boy, I sure liked Dan. I sensed no condemnation from him. He was so smart and yummilicious. I thanked my lucky stars he’d been the one who found me in those woods.

  “What else did you offer your dates if sex wasn’t the main gist of your work?”

  “I had to be intelligent and up to date on the latest political and business news. I needed to be a good dancer and conversationalist. Whatever my regulars were into, I had to be as well.”

  “Plus maintain a certain image.” He looked fascinated.

  “Of course. If I was to be seen at a function with my date, I couldn’t be an embarrassment.”

  “But you couldn’t always be seen. After all, the commissioner you mentioned being a customer couldn’t let it get out he saw someone outside his marriage.”

  I shrugged. “When I wasn’t a piece of jewelry for some man’s ego, I was his dirty little secret.”

  Dan’s eyes were warm on me. “I think you’re a lovely lady.”

  I glowed under the straightforwardness of his admiration. “You don’t treat me like trash even though I dated men and slept with a few of them for money. There’s always been this underlying sense of unworthiness from even my best customers.”

  Dan frowned. “I killed a man, Brandilynn. I committed the most heinous of acts and ruined many lives. I’m not about to judge you for having sex to feel good or to pay the bills.”

  I swallowed. I’d conveniently forgotten his status of a murderer for a little while. “I just can’t wrap my head around you killing someone.”

  “I couldn’t either for a long time.” Dan looked at his hands, examining them as if they held the secrets to the universe … or to a man’s soul. “I suppose if you feel backed into a corner with no way out, you can do just about anything.”

  “Am I safe with you, Dan?” I blurted.

  He looked me in the eye. There were volumes of truth in his gaze: strength, compassion, and weariness. The sad knowledge that in the end no one can fathom their own darkest instincts. I thought perhaps in us all lies something no better than the most base of animals. Something hidden deep beneath our pseudo-civilization. Call it survival instinct if you want to be pretty about it. But in the end, I thought the truth of human nature might be as cold as a vampire’s eyes.

  Kill or be killed.

  “I will never hurt you, Brandilynn,” Dan said. “In fact, if you’ll forgive the macho chest thumping, you bring out the urge to protect. You’re a tough chick on the outside, but here and there I catch glimpses of a scared little girl, begging to be sheltered.” He reddened as he said it.

  I couldn’t help but shiver as my insides went all warm and gooey. If Dan did prove to be a Dom as I suspected he was, he held all the best characteristics. Strong and protective, just the thing a little sub like me crumbled before. At least in the bedroom. I wasn’t nearly as mushy when sex wasn’t involved.

  My voice husky, I said, “Are you just saying that to get me in bed?”

  His seriousness faded before the slow grin that crept over his face. “No, though if that’s a byproduct of this conversation I’m not going to complain.”

  I stood. “What do you want of me, Sir?”

  His lap bulged in response and he rose to his feet. “I want you, my pretty baby girl. All of you, all to myself.” He took my hand and tugged me to the bed. “Nake
d, Brandilynn.”

  I thought my clothes off and stood quietly as his big, capable hands ran down and back up my arms. His course then went to where he could cup my breasts in both hands. His thumbs rubbed over my nipples, turning them hard and pebbly.

  Dan’s voice turned growly with excitement. “I was raised to respect women, treat them with kid gloves. But I always had the fantasy of controlling a woman. Would it shock you to know I want to pinch your nipples? Slap your breasts until they turn red like Tristan did earlier?”

  I shivered in anticipation. “I like being helpless. I want to be controlled. And a little bit of pain does things to me. Not the harsh stuff, but spankings are good. For some reason, my head turns it into pleasure.”