Grave Attraction

by Lori Sjoberg

  Dmitri held the door open for Gwen and then followed her inside. They both made it as far as the living room before stopping short at the sight of Samuel, dressed in gray sweat pants and an old T-shirt, standing by the kitchen table.

  “What the fuck is he doing here?” Dmitri demanded. Open hostility blazed in his eyes as he stepped in front of Gwen and balled his hands into fists. “And why is he dressed like a vagrant?”

  “Chill out, okay? He needs your help,” Adam said, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. The last thing he needed was a big, pissed-off Russian breaking every bone in Samuel’s body. Talk about counterproductive.

  “Our help?” Dmitri looked far from convinced. “Is this some kind of sick joke?”

  “If only it were so simple,” Samuel drawled. “Someone or something appears to have bound me to this godforsaken realm.”

  “Meaning what?” Dmitri asked.

  Samuel’s shoulders slumped on a huff, his lips peeled back in disgust. “Isn’t it obvious? I’ve been rendered … mundane.” He said it in the same way a regular person would say they’d contracted herpes.

  Dmitri’s gaze blazed a path up and down Samuel’s body, the distrust plain on his face. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. “What kind of bullshit are you trying to pull?”

  “Trust me, I wish it were bullshit,” Samuel said.

  “Prove it.”

  Samuel’s gaze swung in Gwen’s direction. “Prove what, that I’ve been diminished?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  Gwen lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. “I don’t know, let me think.” Her lips pressed together as if pondering the answer. Slowly, she walked a semicircle around Samuel with the grace of a predator stalking prey. Then, without warning, she cocked her arm back and sucker punched him square in the face.

  Samuel let out a strangled yelp as his head snapped back and smacked the wall. A trail of blood trickled from his nose, and his eyes seemed a little unfocused. He wiped the blood with the back of his hand, his eyes narrowing to a glare.

  “Huh. Guess you’re mortal after all.” Gwen smirked. Hand fisted, she cocked her arm back again and Samuel flinched. Her smirk widened as she leaned in close, her voice projecting raw menace. “How does it feel to hurt, to fear? Sucks, doesn’t it?”

  Adam inserted himself between the two, hoping Dmitri wouldn’t take offense and beat him to a quivering pulp. “Okay, that’s enough.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Gwen shot back. “You haven’t been a reaper for very long. Deal with the asshole for half a century and then tell me when it’s enough.”

  Samuel’s chin jutted up as he folded his arms across his chest. “You think I enjoy bearing witness to so much suffering?”

  “You don’t bear witness.” Gwen’s eyes burned hot with anger. “You inflict.”

  Samuel made a derisive noise low in his throat. “Contrary to what you believe, Ms. Peterson—”

  “Mrs. Stavitsky,” Gwen growled.

  “My apologies, Mrs. Stavitsky. As I was saying, I derive no pleasure from my calling. What I do, and what you once did, serves a purpose far greater than you can imagine. I’d lay down my life without hesitation—broken, alone, in the dark, and unsung—in the name of fulfilling my responsibilities. Can you claim a comparable dedication?”

  Her gaze flicked over to Dmitri. “Why ask the question when you already know the answer?”

  Samuel cocked his head a little to one side. “Well then. You may not approve of my methods, but do not ever question my loyalty to the greater cause.”

  “And what cause is that?”

  “Humanity.”

  “How noble. I’m sure you sleep soundly at night.” Sarcasm dripped from her words, making it clear she didn’t believe a word he said.

  The muscles along Samuel’s jaw flexed. “I would if I slept.”

  “This isn’t constructive,” Adam snapped, and all three focused their glares in his direction. “Like it or not, he’s Fate’s right hand, and we need to find out who’s blocking his powers.”

  “Thank you,” Samuel said, sounding pleased.

  “Now’s not the time to get cocky. Don’t kid yourself into thinking I could stop this one over here”—he jerked a thumb in Dmitri’s direction—“from pounding you into the carpet.”

  That wiped the sneer from Samuel’s face.

  The corners of Dmitri’s mouth twitched, but otherwise his expression remained unchanged. “Do you have any idea who’s responsible?”

  Samuel shook his head. “The last thing I remember is going about my normal routine. When I regained consciousness, I was … here.”

  “Naked and facedown in the backyard,” Adam added. “Buford found him last night.”

  Gwen let out a laugh that sounded more like a snort. “Please tell me you caught that on camera.”

  “Sorry, it wasn’t the first thing on my mind when I saw him.”

  “What a shame. I know a few folks who would have paid good money to see his bony ass.”

  Dmitri’s face twisted with disgust. “Who on earth would pay to see that?”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  “Can we please focus on the matter at hand?” Samuel growled through gritted teeth.

  Dmitri looked over at his former boss. The big Russian towered over Samuel and outweighed him by at least seventy pounds. “And what would that be?” Even though his face was void of expression, he radiated raw danger. It pulsed around him like the rattle of a snake, and Adam steeled himself against the instinctual urge to step back.

  Apparently, Samuel wasn’t easily intimidated, or he was oblivious to the potential for great bodily harm. His eyes met Dmitri’s, his posture rigid. “I want to know who is responsible for my condition, as well as how to reverse the effects.”

  “And how do you expect us to accomplish that? We’re no longer part of your world, remember?”

  “True, but you were part of this world for a very long time. Perhaps one of your contacts might know who’s responsible or know how to undo what’s been done.”

  A cold, calculated expression played over Dmitri’s face. “Doing your dirty work earned me a lot of enemies. It’s not in my best interest to make them aware of the fact I’m no longer immortal.” He glanced in Gwen’s direction. “It’s one thing to put myself in danger, but now I have interests to protect.”

  The possibility hadn’t occurred to Adam until then. During his time as a reaper, Dmitri had been Samuel’s top enforcer, which meant there were creatures that would leap at the chance for payback if they learned he was now human. And what better way to cripple a man than to harm the woman he loved?

  “There must be someone you can contact who doesn’t wish you harm.”

  Gwen said something to Dmitri in what sounded like Russian. He placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her to the kitchen, where they broke into a heated discussion. There was a lot of back and forth, hand waving, and interrupting, making it hard to tell who was arguing what.

  Adam leaned in close to Samuel. “Do you have any idea what they’re saying?”

  “Not a word,” Samuel replied with a shake of his head. “It seems I’ve also lost the ability to understand every language.”

  Dmitri cupped the side of Gwen’s face, his voice dropping to a murmur. The sound of his words became tender, and her stony expression melted as she twisted her head and pressed a kiss against his palm. They exchanged a look, the one where couples have an entire conversation without speaking a single word.

  “What’s in it for us if we help you?” Dmitri asked, his eyes still glued to his wife.

  “What do you want? Money? Power?”

  “A favor,” Gwen said, and Dmitri nodded. “To be redeemed at any time for any reason, no questions asked.”

  Samuel scoffed. “That’s absurd.”

  Gwen shrugged. “Then I guess that means you’re on your own.”

  They made it halfway to the front door before S
amuel let out a petulant, “Fine, one bloody favor in exchange for your assistance.”

  “In that case, you have a deal.” Dmitri retrieved his phone from his back pocket and scrolled through his list of contacts. As he waited for the call to connect, he glanced in Samuel’s direction. And while his face gave absolutely nothing away, his cold, blue eyes contained enough menace to send shivers down Adam’s spine. “Just remember, if any of this backs up on my door, I’m taking it out on your hide.”

  Jeremiah Brentwood leaned over the bathroom sink as he rinsed the excess dye from his hair. He wiped a few dark wet spots from the counter and then straightened to inspect the results.

  Not bad. The gray was gone, replaced by a deep reddish brown that made him appear at least ten years younger. With some eyeglasses, a fake mustache, and a bronzer for his skin, he’d bear little resemblance to the picture on his Florida driver’s license.

  Thank God he had the foresight years ago to establish a secondary identity. The house he and his brother lived in was rented under the assumed name. For a time, he’d considered moving his operations to the rental but ultimately decided against it, preferring the total privacy that went along with home ownership.

  Thoughts of the house had Jeremiah’s blood pressure spiking. Between the soundproofing and the enhanced security measures, he’d invested a small fortune in the property. And then there were the hours of physical labor, installing, reinforcing, and making sure that every last detail met his specifications. Now he had no choice but to abandon the home since the police knew all about his activities.

  His younger brother, Elias, stuck his head in the doorway, his nose wrinkling at the smell of the dye. “Want to order a pizza? I’m starving.”

  Jeremiah sighed, his grip on his temper tenuous at best. “No, not today. Make a sandwich, there’s meat in the fridge.” He should have known better than to break his routine by bringing his brother to the house early. Elias lacked the stomach for the actual terminations, so he usually waited to clean up the mess until the following morning. But last night he’d been eager to dispose of the body because he wanted to start working on the female.

  Just thinking of her made his pulse jump.

  My, what a prize she was.

  Six months ago, he’d found her while shopping in Target, of all places. Instantly, he’d recognized her as “other” by the distinct hum in his head. He’d acquired the talent at the age of twenty-three, after being savaged by one of her kind in the backstreets of New Orleans. The creature had nearly ripped out his throat and feasted on his blood. By the grace of God, he’d survived the attack, and ever since the gift had served him well, allowing him to sense those who weren’t human so he could rid their presence from the world.

  Once he targeted the female, he’d stalked her for months, carefully learning her patterns of behavior until he knew her every point of weakness. Like many of the others, she was unnaturally fast and strong, so he used the darts to immobilize her and the silver collar to neutralize her abilities.

  Speaking of collars, he was down to his last one, since the police had taken two into evidence. They’d cost him a fortune, fashioned by a woman who proclaimed herself a sorceress. After paying a king’s ransom for the collars, he’d killed the foul bitch a few days later with a bullet to the brain.

  “We’re out of ham,” Elias called out from the kitchen, and Jeremiah strained for patience.

  It wasn’t his brother’s fault he’d been born on the shallow end of the gene pool. What he lacked in intelligence he made up for in strength, and the extra muscle often came in handy.

  “There’s peanut butter in the pantry,” Jeremiah replied as he switched off the light in the bathroom and walked down the hallway leading to his office. While he waited for his computer to power up, his thoughts trailed back to his prey.

  He still couldn’t figure out how the female had gotten hold of the phone. He could have sworn he’d set it back in the cradle to recharge after talking to Elias. Could she possibly possess some form of telekinesis? He’d never encountered a creature with the skill, but that didn’t make it impossible. But if she did, why didn’t she use the ability to unlock her cage?

  Frustrated, he shook the thought off. He’d learn the answer when he recaptured her. Right now, his only goal was to evade arrest. In time, the police and the press would shift their attention elsewhere, leaving him free to resume his crusade.

  Then he’d find her. It wouldn’t be hard. By now he knew her better than she knew herself. He knew where she lived, shopped, ate, and worked out. Knew where to find all of her friends and family.

  And once he recaptured her, he’d finish what he already started.

  Chapter 5

  Later that afternoon, Adam and Dmitri drove to an exclusive neighborhood in the outskirts of Orlando, home to celebrities, executives, golf pros, and, apparently, one of the most powerful supernatural beings in the state.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Adam said as they turned right off the main road. Immaculate landscaping framed the front entrance, where a pair of fountains shot water twenty feet into the air. “Witches live in gated communities?”

  Dmitri stared at him like he was stuck on stupid. “Where did you think they lived?”

  “I don’t know, but it wasn’t here.” Actually, he’d expected an old, weathered house in the woods along the outskirts of town. There was a community just like it about an hour north of Orlando, a tight-knit group of Wiccans and spiritualists who valued their privacy while practicing their craft.

  When they stopped at the security gate, Dmitri tapped a five-digit code onto the keypad. The light on the keypad switched from red to green, and the wrought-iron gates slowly swung open. A short drive later, they pulled into the driveway leading to a massive white two-story house with a wraparound porch and dark green shutters. On the side of the building was a garage large enough to hold at least four vehicles. A lush carpet of grass covered most of the yard, where an old woman crouched over a bed of bright red flowers. Her head snapped up at the rumble of Dmitri’s car, a smile brightening her flushed face when she waved.

  “Mitya!” The old woman wiped sweat from her brow as she stood. She appeared to be in her early to mid-seventies, dressed in khaki shorts and a plain white tee. A floppy straw hat protected her face from the scorching summer sun. Her smile widened while she walked toward them, stripping off her gardening gloves and shoving them into her pocket. As soon as she got close enough, Dmitri opened his arms and hugged her.

  The witch might have been old, but she was far from frail. Even from several feet away, Adam felt the pulse of power radiating from her body. In his years as a reaper, he’d never experienced anything quite like it.

  “It’s nice to see you, Cassandra,” Dmitri said when they broke contact. Genuine affection warmed his voice. “You look good.”

  The old woman’s head cocked to one side as if noticing something out of order. “Mitya, what happened?” Her voice carried a thick Southern accent. “Your aura, it’s … different.” Cassandra stepped closer, her eyes squinting while she studied him. Then her mouth dropped open, her blue eyes popping wide when the pieces must have clicked in her mind. “You—you’re mortal! How is that even possible?”

  “Long story.” Typical Dmitri. After two years of trying, Adam still hadn’t managed to worm the full explanation from the former reaper.

  The witch’s gaze tracked down to the gold band on his finger. “And married. I think that shocks me even more. Who’s the lucky lady?”

  Much to Adam’s surprise, Dmitri dug out his wallet and showed Cassandra a picture of his wife. Gwen was back at the house keeping an eye on Samuel, and Adam couldn’t help but wonder how the two were getting along.

  “Hmm. I can see why she caught your eye.” A hint of disappointment bled into her voice, as if she had someone else in mind for the big Russian. “And judging by the looks of you, she’s making you very happy.”

  Was Dmitri blushing? With his skin
tone, it was hard to tell for certain. “I’ll bring her around for you to meet.”

  “I’d like that.” The old witch gestured toward Adam. “And who’s this young buck? Is he my new contact with the hereafter?”

  Dmitri made a sound in the back of his throat. “This is Adam. He’s green, so take it easy on him.”

  “Oh, now where’s the fun in that?” She let out a bawdy laugh before shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Adam. So what brings you boys here today? More demon troubles?”

  “It’s a little more complicated than that,” Dmitri said.

  Cassandra grinned. “Sounds like fun. Why don’t y’all come on inside. It’s hotter than Hades out here. I’ll pour us some sweet tea while you fill me in.”

  Once inside the house, she led them past the foyer and into a wide-open living area filled with comfortable-looking furniture. A plush burgundy couch and two leather recliners were arranged in front of a wall-mounted television that took up nearly half of one wall. To the left, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves were loaded beyond capacity with paperbacks, hardcovers, and a motley assortment of knickknacks. A gray and white cat lounged on the glass coffee table, its tail swishing back and forth.

  After sweating his butt off outside, the air-conditioning felt like a slice of pure heaven. A Chicago native, Adam still hadn’t gotten used to the Florida heat and humidity. He’d just settled down on one of the recliners when the front door swung open and a young woman entered.

  “Cassie, I’m back!” the woman called out as she closed and locked the door behind her. She wore tight-fitting denim and a clingy red blouse with a neckline that showed a lot of cleavage. Her long blond hair was pulled back in a braid, and a pair of sunglasses covered her eyes. As she strolled past the foyer and into the living room, she pushed the glasses to the top of her head, and Adam’s mouth went dry.

  It was the woman he’d saved at the shuttered house. She looked a lot different cleaned up and fully clothed. Harder. Sharper. Sensual. Her brilliant amber eyes scanned the room, and in an instant they went from friendly to foreboding. “Oh. Dmitri.”