Grave Destinations

by Lori Sjoberg

  “Liar.” A faint smile warmed his lips.

  “Guilty as charged.” She let out a laugh that sounded as hollow as she felt. “Sorry, I’m off my game tonight. I promise to do better tomorrow.”

  His hand cupped the side of her face, his thumb stroking lightly against her cheek. Then the smile vanished, and his eyes darkened with desire. “You’ve had a difficult evening,” he said, his voice turning rough. “I’d better go.”

  She felt oddly touched by his refusal to press the situation to his advantage. Such acts of chivalry were in short supply these days, a rare quality most women appreciated. But not her, and not after a night like tonight. She slipped a hand around his neck, drawing his head downward. The tension in her muscles eased a bit when the richness of his scent enveloped her, so musky and brooding and undeniably male.

  “Kiss me,” she murmured, right before she brushed her lips against his, a brazen invitation she prayed he couldn’t resist. She wanted to forget about the dead girl, the grieving father, and the path of destruction that inevitably trailed in her wake.

  He hesitated a heartbeat, right before his mouth came crushing down over hers, finally letting go of that tightly reined control. His lips were smooth and his mouth tasted of the whiskey he’d been drinking, steeped with a heady dose of sensuality that came close to making her whimper.

  He pulled back for a moment, his breathing uneven and his eyes heavy-lidded with lust. Then his mouth took hers again at a slightly different angle, a low moan rumbling from deep in his throat.

  Oh yes. One of his hands cupped the back of her head, his fingers tunneling through her hair, the pressure so tight it bordered on pain. But it felt so damn good to be kissed, to be claimed, to feel that delicious tension shudder through his body when her tongue brushed against his.

  Tilting his head, he took the kiss deeper. He backed her against the wall, one of his legs wedged between her thighs and the length of his body molded against hers. He was a big man, broad-shouldered and finely muscled, his powerful frame heating her from the inside out. Already, she could feel his arousal pressed firmly against her lower abdomen. She reached around and cupped his ass, grinding her pelvis against him. He made a sound between a groan and a growl, and wetness pooled between her thighs.

  “Why don’t we take this inside my cabin?” Ruby asked when she broke the kiss, her heart pounding with anticipation. Her body was flushed, her skin sensitive, aching for his touch and eager for completion. She wanted to feel him—all of him—naked and sweaty, skin against skin, pinning her to the mattress, on top of her, inside her, making her forget about everything but that solitary moment of oblivion. She felt an insistent need to fill the void, to banish the grief and the pain with something far more pleasurable, even if the moment was destined to be fleeting. “Unless you have some strange cruise ship hallway fantasy you care to share.”

  He pulled his head back just enough so she could see his eyes, dark and glazed and mindless with hunger. Damn, if that never failed to boost a woman’s self-esteem.

  He looked like he was about to say something when his expression faltered, his eyes widening as if something was seriously wrong. Then he squeezed his eyes tight, cursing as he jerked his head away.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” He shook his head, muttering something too low for her to hear. “Nothing at all.” He took a series of long, deep breaths, his face still turned away from her questioning gaze. When he finally turned back to face her, his expression had changed. Guarded. Tensed.

  Fearful.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Jack said with a curt nod, his gaze everywhere but on her.

  “Now who’s lying, Jack?” She touched a hand to his jaw, rough with stubble. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” His voice had taken on a touch of frustration, his posture as stiff as a board. He pressed a thumb against his temple, his fingers rubbing his forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m not well. I have to go.”

  She watched, dumbfounded, as he turned on his heel and stalked down the hallway without giving her so much as a backward glance.

  Too damn close.

  Another couple of seconds and he would have completely lost control. The sudden surge of power nearly overwhelmed him when Ruby invited him into her cabin. He’d experienced that telltale flicker of vision, the precursor to a full-scale mutiny. It barely gave him enough warning to shore his defenses before the assault.

  His stomach churned at the thought of what might have happened if the curse had succeeded. It would have used Ruby’s body to satisfy its most deviant hungers. Consumed her life force until there was nothing left but a shell. He had no idea if reapers were immortal, but even if they were he had no intention of subjecting her to that kind of abuse.

  Even now, the curse railed against its bonds, infuriated at Jack for denying it the chance to feast on her sexual energy. It raged against its confines, ravenous, desperate.

  Dangerous.

  Dammit, he knew better than to wait so long between feedings. The last time this happened it took over Jack’s body while he slept. It was fully entrenched and in command by the time he’d regained awareness in a strange house, with a strange woman.

  Doing strange and revolting things. It had taken all of his strength to stop the curse from ending the poor woman’s life.

  No. He refused to allow that to happen again.

  Jack glanced back toward Ruby’s cabin and felt the curse roar its approval. It would be so easy to take her up on her offer, to slake his lust and feed the curse at the same time. He wanted her so badly his body burned with the need. But the curse’s lust for her rivaled his own, and the fact scared the shit out of him. Knowing what the curse would do to her if given half a chance, he couldn’t afford to lose control in her presence.

  So instead he walked the stairs with grim resignation, climbing the steps two at a time until he reached the lido deck. The pulsing beat of music got louder as he neared and grew to deafening by the time he entered Frenesi. He paused, waiting for his eyes and ears to acclimate to his surroundings before venturing into the crowded nightclub.

  After a quick trip to the bar, he cruised the area surrounding the dance floor. He sipped his Chivas while his eyes scanned the crowd, sizing up the available prey. Years of practice had made him an effective hunter. Like most predators, he gravitated toward the quick and easy, a willing woman with a healthy libido and flexible morals. It didn’t take long before he zeroed in on a suitable target.

  The bubbly brunette was short and curvy, with shoulder-length brown hair and way too much makeup. The cut of her blouse showed off miles of cleavage, her skirt so short it bordered on indecent. She danced with a youthful exuberance, compensating for her lack of rhythm with boundless enthusiasm.

  So very different from Ruby, yet exactly what he needed.

  The brunette met his gaze, a look of excitement crossing her face when she realized he was watching. Her eyes moved over him, and then she grinned.

  Jack forced a smile of his own, hating himself for what he was about to do. It didn’t matter that his actions lay rooted in necessity, to appease his baser nature so he could function like a civilized human being. The cold, hard truth was that he was nothing more than a parasite, feeding on his prey with calculated efficiency. No love or emotion went into the act, just the simple exchange of pleasure for energy. And while he despised his actions, he knew of no other way to keep the curse under control.

  The brunette sauntered toward him, her smile wide and her eyes alight.

  “I’m surprised to see you here.” She leaned close enough to be heard over the music, and Jack recognized her from the main dining room on the first night of the cruise. Chloe? No, that’s not right. Chloe was the responsible one. The young woman standing before him looked anything but responsible.

  Then he remembered. “Jessica, right?”

  “The one and only.” She beamed at him, clearly pleased because he
remembered her name. “What brings you here tonight?”

  “I was looking for you.”

  Already, he sensed her arousal, a burst of attraction he had every intention of exploiting. The curse sensed it as well and made another attempt at insurrection, but this time Jack’s emotions were locked up so tight he was able to maintain control.

  “Yeah?” Her lips pursed in a pout. “I didn’t think you were interested. You never showed up for body shots.”

  Ah, so she wanted to play hard to get. He knew this game better than the back of his hand. Playing along, he moved in closer, ignoring the pungent scent of her perfume. Just one more, he reminded himself. Tomorrow, Jolie Duquette would remove the wretched curse, and he’d never have to demean himself like this again. The knowledge kept him rooted firmly in place, determined to maintain his composure by all means necessary.

  “I’m here now,” he said, offering no excuse. He touched a hand to her arm and felt her pulse quicken beneath his fingertips. The curse nearly vibrated with excitement while Jack knew he’d despise himself in another hour.

  Jessica bit her lower lip, her fingers twirling a strand of her hair. “Want to go back to my cabin? My roommates won’t be back for a couple hours.”

  Damn, the girl moved fast. Usually, he had to put more effort into the seduction before getting down to business. Not that he minded. He felt no inclination to get to know her better. The lack of emotional involvement would grant him greater control over his baser nature, allowing it to take just enough to satisfy its hunger without causing Jessica any permanent damage.

  Shoving the guilt aside, he gave Jessica a seductive smile. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 6

  Harvesting the soul was only the first part of a reaper’s job. The second half usually proved safer and easier, as the process required more mental than physical exertion.

  Even though Ruby hadn’t thought so at the time, it probably worked out for the best that Jack left in such a hurry. Solitude granted her the privacy necessary to place the soul on its proper path without interruption. And while this particular soul showed no signs of malevolence, she disliked using her body as a holding pen for the recently deceased.

  Still, she felt irritated and confused by Jack’s abrupt departure. One minute he’d been revved up and raring to go, the next he’d turned tail like a rabbit with a fox on its heels. His behavior made no sense to her, and she was not a woman accustomed to being left hanging. Next time she saw him, he’d better have a damn good explanation and an award-winning grovel.

  She briefly considered going back to the bars to take the edge off her restlessness, but just as quickly abandoned the notion. The idea struck her as distasteful, which made her realize this particular itch could only be scratched by one particular man. So instead she changed into something more comfortable, raided the mini fridge, and ordered a double slice of strawberry cheesecake from room service.

  About an hour later, Ruby finished her drink and set the empty glass beside the empty plate on the vanity. By now she’d regained enough of her mental balance to begin the painstaking process of placing the soul on the final leg of its journey.

  She sat cross-legged on the bed with her hands folded on her lap, her heart rate slowing with each deep, cleansing breath. Closing her eyes, she envisioned the wide-open field behind her parents’ property in Georgia, a place she’d always associated with peace and solitude. Another breath, and the clutter slowly cleared from her crowded thoughts, each one tucking away into its own special compartment, to be dealt with later. She focused inward, shuttering her mind to the outside world, her concentration locked on the task at hand.

  By now, the girl’s soul had acclimated to its change in condition, sulking but no longer making a fuss. Ruby sensed no malice in the girl, no taint of evil damning her spirit to an afterlife of unspeakable torment. Thank God. The damned usually had a pretty good idea about where they were going, and fought the inevitable with every ounce of their remaining strength. Unblemished souls possessed no such fear, making them much easier to guide through the portal linking humanity to the hereafter.

  Muscles lax and heart slowly beating, her mind drifted into a trancelike state. It was only then that instinct took over and the portal contained within her body stirred to life. The process was similar to unlocking a door, a turn of the knob to another realm. Some reapers preferred to skip the touchy-feely routine, and instead utilized their mental abilities to actively trigger the process. It was more efficient, and a much faster way to place the soul on its proper course. But personally, she found the natural method to be less physically stressful.

  Either way, the experience was far from pleasant. Actually, it felt like a great void bursting open inside her chest, a swirling black hole bridging humanity to the next realm. It wasn’t cold or warm, dark or light, peaceful or foreboding. It was simply … there, and the nothingness never failed to unnerve her.

  Once it was fully activated, she relinquished her ties to the soul, guiding it with her mind toward the next step in its journey. It stopped short at the threshold, fearful of venturing into the vast unknown. With a patience she rarely afforded the living, Ruby coaxed the skittish spirit, soothing its fears with mental reassurances as she gently nudged it forward.

  It’s okay, sweetheart. You have nothing to fear. Incredible things await you on the other side. Just a little closer, she thought, and the portal would do the rest of the work.

  Sure enough, the portal latched on and the soul stopped resisting, sweeping into the chasm like a piece of driftwood carried away by high tide. For the briefest of moments, Ruby felt awash in warmth, and love, and indescribable beauty. A sense of belonging that filled her heart to bursting. Then the portal snapped shut, leaving her with an emptiness that brought tears to her eyes.

  Some time later, Ruby woke from a deep, dreamless sleep. The only light in the cabin came from the alarm clock on the vanity. She groaned when the little red digital numbers shifted into focus.

  Three forty-eight. She’d been asleep for less than four hours.

  Groggy, disoriented, and more than a little annoyed, she kicked back the sheets while her eyes scanned the darkened cabin.

  Funny, she heard no noise coming from the upper decks, no sounds in the hallway, so what caused her to wake?

  As the fog of sleep lifted, her senses sharpened. The cool night chilled her bare skin, the room so quiet she heard her own pulse beating. Then she noticed it. Faint yet insistent, the scent of new death haunted the air, calling out to her like a siren song.

  What the hell?

  She’d been informed of only one death on the docket. Fate’s schedule ran with military precision, allowing no margin for error. Maybe the death was due to natural causes. A heart attack, perhaps, or one of the elderly passengers who’d passed away in their sleep.

  But if that were the case, why was she sensing it so strongly? The souls of those who died through natural causes passed to the afterlife without the aid of a reaper, the transition so seamless it barely registered on a reaper’s radar.

  Only one way to find out, she thought as she got out of bed and flipped on the light in the bathroom. Once her eyes adjusted to the glare, she dragged on shorts and a tank top and pulled her bed hair back in a ponytail. After a minute of searching, she slipped on a pair of sandals, pocketed her room key, and left the cabin.

  Moving on instinct, she tracked death like a bloodhound, following the distinct hum up five flights of stairs and down a long, empty hallway until she stood in front of cabin number 862.

  Oh, yeah, this was definitely the place. She sensed fresh death beyond the barrier of the door, so strong it pulsated through her body like an electric current. She tried the door, frowned when she found it locked. Then she knocked, listening for any signs of life inside.

  Nothing.

  “Good evening, ma’am,” a rich, baritone voice said from behind, and she nearly jumped straight out of her sandals. “My apologies, I did not mean to sta
rtle you.”

  Ruby took a deep, calming breath, turned toward the voice, and smiled. He was a young man, tall and heavyset, with a rounded face and short black hair. His name badge read “Carlos,” while his uniform indicated he belonged to housekeeping. And housekeeping staff generally carried master keys, didn’t they?

  “It’s all right,” Ruby said, adding a few extra layers to her accent.

  She’d learned long ago the fine art of exploiting stereotype to her advantage. A lot of folks equated a Southern accent with harmless and ignorant. The assumption left them with a superior attitude and relaxed their guard, and that made it much easier for her to talk them into doing whatever she wanted.

  “I was just trying to figure out how to get back in my cabin.” She feigned a look of exasperation as she propped a hand on her hip. “I accidentally left my key card inside, and my roommate took off with some guy she met at the karaoke bar. Is there any way you could let me in, sweetie pie?”

  Carlos regarded her with wary eyes, his expression somewhere between interest and apprehension. “I don’t know,” he said, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “I’m really not supposed to—”

  “Oh, I understand,” Ruby interrupted with a casual wave of her hand. “I just thought it might be worth a try. I wouldn’t want to get you into any kind of trouble.” She met his gaze, holding it long enough to slip a suggestion into his mind. It’s okay. Just this one time. Nobody will ever know.

  “Well,” Carlos said, his head turning from side to side as if making sure the corridor was clear of any potential witnesses. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to open it this one time. Just don’t tell anyone I did this or I could get into trouble.”

  “Cross my heart and hope to die, I promise I won’t tell a living soul.” She smiled and winked, and a deep blush darkened his olive skin. She waited anxiously while he slipped the key card through the electronic slot and the little green light blinked twice. “Thanks a million,” she said as she slipped past him into the darkened cabin, the door clicking shut behind her.