Grave Destinations

by Lori Sjoberg

  “Honey, I’ll give you a reward you’ll never forget.” The ship’s horn sounded again. A group of young women rushed past, heading toward the end of the dock. Ruby checked her watch again and sighed. Less than five minutes before the ship set sail. “But right now we better get back on board.”

  Chapter 3

  The evening had kicked into high gear by the time Jack arrived at Frenesi. All of the tables lining the perimeter were taken, and the dance floor was packed with a sea of bodies writhing to the beat of some catchy Latin rhythm, the bass so heavy he could feel it in his teeth. Strobe lights and lasers flashed to the manic pace of the music, accentuating the quickening pulse of the crowd.

  Some dancers stuck to their partners like glue, while others mixed and mingled, switching partners with a practiced fluidity. Darkened corners were occupied by couples in varying stages of undress, not seeming to care if anyone watched their public displays of affection. A thickening haze of sexuality saturated the room, an open invitation to anyone with lowered inhibitions and a taste for adventure.

  For Jack, the club presented a perfect opportunity to appease his baser nature. The curse fed on carnal energy, and this place practically dripped with it. Overlapping waves of sensuality rolled off the dance floor, washing over him like a velvet caress. The curse basked in the glow, soaking up the backwash of sexual energy but thirsting for far more.

  “What can I get you?” the bartender asked Jack once he found an open spot at the bar.

  Jack took a moment to check the bottles behind the bar. “Chivas on the rocks,” he finally said, loud enough to be heard over the music.

  While the bartender scanned his room card and poured his scotch, Jack took the opportunity to absorb his surroundings. The Latin song ended, replaced with a grinding beat that sounded almost tribal. The dancers quickly adjusted to the change in tempo, pairing up, moving closer, their bodies swaying to rhythms more instinctive.

  Jack’s stare darted from dancer to dancer, searching for recognition among the tangled knot of humanity. His chest tightened when his focus locked on Ruby, moving with such brazen sexuality it damn near sucked the air from his lungs. Her willowy frame graceful amid the drunken revelers, she stood out like a flame in the desert. She was the epitome of temptation in a tight leather miniskirt and a low-cut, dark green sleeveless blouse that brought out the mischief in her eyes. A black velvet choker wove an intricate pattern around her slender neck, a slash of dark against ivory skin.

  He watched, mesmerized, as she made her way across the dance floor, stopping every so often to pair up with a willing partner. She put her entire body into the dance, head bobbing, hips gyrating, and hands up in the air, all in perfect sync with the music. A swift spike of jealousy shot through his blood when she rubbed her body against a young musclehead in low-slung jeans and a New York Yankees T-shirt.

  What was she doing with that punk? She obviously needed a real man, one who knew the proper ways to please a woman. Jack’s temper flared when the punk put his hands on her hips, grinding his crotch against her ass while his hands made a slow journey north.

  Relief swept over him when Ruby slid free from the guy’s grasp, barely affording him a backward glance as she resumed her voyage across the room. When the DJ changed the pace of the music to something slower, she left the dance floor and headed toward the bar, her red hair damp and her breathing a little heavy. Those striking green eyes searched the length of the bar, for what he didn’t know, but he felt a jolt of pure pleasure when she smiled in his direction.

  “Why, hello, Jack,” she said, sounding a little winded. Her gaze moved over him, from head to toes and back again, sending a hot blast of attraction in his direction. “Nice to see you again.”

  “Likewise. Can I get you something to drink? If I remember correctly, you prefer the girly stuff.”

  “Good memory. I like that in a man.” Her smile widened and he felt an unfamiliar tug, deep inside. She broke eye contact just long enough to turn down some skinny asshole who had the balls to ask her to dance. “I’ll take a tequila sunrise.”

  Jack arched a brow. “That’s a serious drink.”

  “I’m a serious woman.”

  She laughed, and desire rippled through him. He sensed something else, something alien and exotic. Definitely not human, so what the hell was she? Not knowing the answer was driving him nuts.

  Throughout his quest to break free from the curse, he’d encountered a host of beings that existed along the fringes of civilized society. Some blended, living in plain sight, while others chose to maintain a comfortable distance from humanity. Witches and shamans. Demons and mages. Each threw off a distinctive vibe. And they were nothing compared to the vibes he picked up from Ruby.

  He caught the bartender’s attention and ordered her drink.

  “So when did you get here?” she asked, her breathing gradually returning to normal. She pulled her hair back from her neck, using the long strands to fan her heated skin.

  “Just a few minutes ago. I’ve been wandering around the ship, checking out the night life.” Looking for her, although he’d never admit it. They’d made no firm plans for the evening, but he’d still felt compelled to seek her out, to finish what they’d started on the dock in Nassau. He’d begun at the casino on deck five and worked his way up, hoping to run into her before night’s end. He should have known he’d find her in the spot with the most action.

  “Find anything exciting?”

  Yeah, about two minutes ago. He shrugged, took a long drag off his scotch. The Chivas went down smooth, leaving a warm trail of liquid courage in its wake. “There’s a jazz club on seven with potential. And the karaoke bar looks like it’ll be good in another hour or two, once everyone gets liquored up.”

  The bartender slid Ruby’s drink in Jack’s direction. Jack nodded his thanks and passed it along to Ruby.

  “Thanks.” She waited a few beats while the grenadine rose from the bottom of the glass, mixing with the tequila and orange juice to form a sweet yet potent concoction. Then she took a sip, her eyes closing in a moment of pure bliss. “Oh, that hits the spot.” She took another long sip before motioning toward the dance floor. “Did you want to dance?”

  Jack shook his head. When he’d learned to dance, the foxtrot was all the rage, and he doubted those moves would impress Ruby. “No, not this time. Maybe another night.”

  “Suit yourself.” Another sip, and the highball glass was half empty. She gave him a long, appraising look, not bothering to mask her interest. “So, what do you want to do? The evening’s young.”

  Talk about a loaded question. She was an attractive, willing woman who held no qualms about going after what she wanted. And right now her intentions were blatantly obvious.

  But the curse also wanted Ruby, and the fact gave him pause. Past experience warned him about the dangers of losing control, of giving the curse the opportunity to slide beneath the radar and seize command of his faculties. Strong emotions weakened his defenses, as did heavy doses of unbridled lust. It was why he made a practice of feeding the curse only small controlled doses of sexual energy. A few kisses here, some deeper physical contact there. Sex, but never coupled with emotional involvement. Anything more and he ran the risk of giving it too much power.

  Getting horizontal with Ruby was tantamount to spraying napalm on a forest fire. Not only was he physically attracted to her, but he also felt an emotional connection. A dangerous combination when it came to his baser nature. If he had a lick of common sense, he’d come up with a good excuse to go back to his cabin and avoid her like the plague for the duration of the cruise.

  Yeah, right. Like that was going to happen.

  Ruby plucked the cherry from her glass and popped it into her mouth. “Let me show you a little trick I learned a few years ago.” She held up a finger while she chewed on the fruit, her lower jaw trembling from the movement. Then, with a wicked grin, she pulled the stem from her mouth.

  It was tied in a knot.
<
br />   Sweet Jesus.

  The curse flared, demanding immediate gratification. Its power surged through Jack’s body like a lion in a cage, testing for weakness, searching for a means to take over its host and slake its lust. By sheer force of will Jack maintained control, keeping the beast at bay with an iron grip and an unspoken promise of imminent satisfaction.

  Ruby’s eyes locked with his, her desires unmistakable. Then her grin split into a smile, and he felt it all the way to his groin. “Would you like to go somewhere a little more private, Jack?”

  Hell, yeah. It had been years—no, decades—since he’d wanted a woman so badly. Raw hunger coursed through his veins and pounded in his chest, his concerns obliterated by the insatiable need to lose himself in Ruby’s wet heat. How did she manage to push all of his buttons in the proper sequential order?

  He didn’t know, and to be honest he didn’t give a shit. The only question on his mind was how quickly he could drag her someplace secluded so he could get her good and naked. He wanted to bury himself in that beautiful body, to feel her nails scratch down his back, to watch the ecstasy cloud her eyes when she came.

  “My place or yours?” It didn’t matter much to him either way. Hell, at the moment he’d settle for a quiet corner or an empty bathroom stall, but he didn’t think that would go over well with Ruby.

  “Yours. Mine’s the size of a refrigerator box.”

  Before common sense had the chance to rear its ugly head, Jack knocked back the last of his Chivas, slapped the empty glass on the bar, grabbed Ruby’s hand, and made a beeline for the exit. Taking her to his cabin had “bad idea” written all over it in seven different languages, but it had been so damn long since he’d been so into a woman. He needed to be careful with her, with his own emotions, to make sure he maintained control so the curse never had the chance to stage a mutiny.

  They’d made it halfway to the door when Ruby stopped dead in her tracks.

  “Hold up a minute.” Her eyes focused on something at the opposite end of the nightclub.

  “What is it?” He scanned the room but found nothing but a mash of bodies moving to the pulsing beat of the music.

  She didn’t answer right away. Her features hardened, her gaze filled with the intensity of a predator tracking prey. “There,” she finally said, pointing toward the opposite end of the dance floor about fifteen feet from the ladies’ room. “See the brunette in the shiny green dress?”

  It took a few moments of searching before he picked her out from the crowd. Oh, yes, there she was. Young and pretty, and a little burned from too much fun in the sun. She had rounded features and the curvy build that normally made the curse chomp at the bit. Her outfit was light on the fabric and a size too tight, showing off loads of flesh and an eclectic collection of tattoos. And by all appearances, she was blind, stinking drunk.

  “What about her?” he asked, bracing for the worst. Judging from the strain in Ruby’s voice, it couldn’t be good. If he were a betting man he’d say she either stole Ruby’s boyfriend or posted nasty rumors about her online.

  “The guy on the right just slipped something into her drink.” She downed the rest of her own drink and set the empty glass on a nearby table.

  Wow, not even in the ballpark of what he’d expected. He eyed the two guys standing on either side of the girl. The one on the left was the asshole who’d been grinding against Ruby earlier. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. I saw the one in the Yankees shirt squirt something into her glass when she wasn’t looking.” Ruby’s hands balled into fists when the girl staggered away from the dance floor. The guy in the Yankees shirt put his hand at the small of her back and guided her toward the rear exit. He gave a smug nod to his partner in crime, a tall, heavyset guy who flanked the girl on the opposite side.

  “I’ll be right back,” Ruby said, her voice gaining an edge he hadn’t heard from her before. She let go of Jack’s hand and took off like a shot across the dance floor.

  “Wait, where are you going?” he asked, not sure if she’d heard him over the music. It took some effort to keep up with her as she cut a path across the room, zigzagging between bodies with increasing speed.

  She didn’t break stride but spared him a quick glance over her shoulder. “Where do you think?” A few more steps and she cleared the dance floor, marching toward the exit with the grim determination of a soldier charging into battle.

  He caught up with her in the main hall, matching her stride for stride down the narrow corridor.

  “Look, I’m not asking for your help,” she said as they turned the corner, the sounds of the club fading into the background. “I can take care of this on my own.”

  “What, are you crazy?” She couldn’t possibly be serious. “I’m not going to sit back and watch you take on two guys by yourself.”

  “I’m a big girl. I can handle myself just fine.”

  “I’m sure you can. But I’m still not letting you confront those guys on your own.”

  She glanced in his direction, and then gave him a curt nod. “Okay. But we do this my way. Follow my lead.”

  The trio stood by the elevators now, the girl sandwiched between the two men, waiting for the doors to open. The bell dinged, and just as the doors began to slide back, Ruby called out, “Hey, darling, wait up! Hold the door!”

  The heavyset guy looked back, a smile on his face as he took in the sight of Ruby in her tight leather miniskirt.

  Hips swinging with feigned exuberance, Ruby rushed toward the elevator. She inserted herself into the middle of the group, bent over the shorter woman, and gave her the warm hug of a close friend. “I’ve been looking all over for you, girlfriend,” she said, her Southern accent thicker than molasses and twice as sweet. “You had me worried half to death. It’s late and we got an early day tomorrow, so we best get going to bed.”

  Jack made a mental note never to play poker with Ruby. Without a doubt, she could bullshit with the best of them.

  The girl gave Ruby a puzzled look but was too wasted to argue. She sagged against Ruby’s hold, mumbling something only another drunk could possibly understand.

  Ruby peered back toward the two men as she hooked an arm around the girl’s waist and angled her away from the elevators. “Thanks for watching out for her, boys,” she said, doing an amazing job at masking her contempt. “I’ll make sure she gets back to the cabin, safe and sound.”

  Judging by the strain on Ruby’s face, the girl must have been close to dead weight. Still, Jack stayed back and let her do her thing, ready to spring into action at the first sign of trouble.

  Just when he thought she might get away clean, the musclehead in the Yankees shirt said, “Hold on.” The elevator doors slid shut behind him as he closed the distance between him and Ruby. With heels, Ruby stood at close to six feet, but he still towered over her, making her appear fragile by comparison. “You’re her friend?”

  “We’re sharing a cabin.”

  “She didn’t say nothing about no roommates,” Yankees Shirt said, the skepticism in his voice making it perfectly clear he wasn’t buying her story. He moved in close, his big hand wrapping around the girl’s upper arm. “I don’t know what your deal is, but I think you’re full of shit.”

  Ruby stiffened, her face drawn tight. The accent disappeared, and her voice took on an eerie chill. “I don’t care what you believe. She’s not leaving with you.”

  The second guy took a step away from the elevators, but before Jack had the chance to intercept he stopped moving and stayed put. Smart man.

  Too bad the asshole in the Yankees shirt lacked the sense to give up when the opportunity presented itself. The girl let out a faint gasp when he jerked her from Ruby’s grip. “Back off, bitch. She’s coming with us.”

  Shit. Here we go. Jack cracked his neck while he mapped out a plan of attack. Two on one ranked pretty low on his list of preferred fighting scenarios, but if he played his cards right he had a decent shot at walking away without too much in the
way of bodily damage. The chubby guy by the elevators didn’t look too threatening, but Yankees Shirt was built like a brick shithouse. Jack’s first order of business was to get Ruby and the girl behind him so he could use the narrow hallway to his advantage, forcing the guys to come at him one at a time.

  Ruby’s head turned, scanning one side of the corridor and then the other. Her eyes sparked with a savage glint, a fierceness that could only spell trouble. She shot Jack a quick look and said, “Watch the girl.”

  Before he could ask what she meant, Ruby poked Yankees Shirt in the chest. “Now you listen here, jackass,” she said as she aimed higher, poking him again, this time in the windpipe. The guy let out a startled gasp, choking for air. She never gave him the chance to recover, stomping on his instep with the heel of her stiletto right before she nailed him in the nuts. He let go of the girl and dropped to the ground like a bag of wet cement, curling up in a ball as he cradled the family jewels.

  Jack darted forward, catching the girl before she hit the carpet. She appeared dangerously close to unconscious, her eyes cloudy and unfocused, her muscles unnaturally lax. Gently, he eased her down onto the floor, propping her against the wall in a seated position.

  The guy by the elevators rushed into the hallway but froze a few feet shy of Yankees Shirt. Jaw dropped open, his hands fell to his sides as he stared at Ruby. Neither spoke, but after about thirty seconds he nodded, walked back to the open area by the elevators and disappeared into the stairwell.

  Ruby shifted her attention back to the man on the floor. He was still curled up in the fetal position, groaning.

  “Big man like you shouldn’t have to drug a woman to get laid,” she said, her voice a snarl of disgust. She crouched down beside him and knotted her fingers in his hair, pulling his head up so their eyes met. Her gaze narrowed and Yankees Shirt let out a high-pitched shriek. “Your kind makes me sick. If you ever”—she jerked his head back so far Jack thought the guy’s neck might snap—“ever pull a stunt like this again, I’ll be coming after you. And I won’t be so lenient next time.” His eyes widened, and the sounds he made reminded Jack of a wounded animal caught in a trap. “Do you understand?”