Pure Hell (Seventh Level Book 1)

by Charity Parkerson

  She fancied the stem was as big as her forearm and ended in a bulbous head. It was almost purple in his throes of passion and as his fingers pulled at the water slickened skin she pressed her knees together on a wave of lust.

  “Holy shit. You’re ten shades of hot,” she sighed.

  She’d never witnessed something so erotic and with a pang of longing, she realized she had also never wanted a man the way she wanted this one. In the midst of the mind-blowing scene taking place a mere three feet from her, she felt more alone than ever before. She could reach out, wrap her fingers around his cock. She could stroke him to completion but he would never know she was there. The knowledge made her death more real than anything else had.

  With her mind heading to such a dark place, it took her a second to realize his face was no longer hidden beneath the flow of water from the showerhead, instead he was staring straight ahead, directly at her. His sky blue eyes were honed in on her. A muscle ticked in his jaw as if he’d locked his back teeth together. Her gaze was transfixed and even as a jet shot from the head of his cock, she couldn’t look away from his eyes. She could swear that he could see her.

  *

  Liam dressed as quickly as possible. He had only dropped by the house long enough to take a quick shower and get a clean change of clothes. He had been passing by the bus stop on his way home when he saw the patrol officers gathered around Kylie’s body. It had been tempting to pretend as if he hadn’t seen anything since he had already been on duty for over twenty-eight hours, but this was his job. It was a calling. Running on pure adrenaline, his body and mind were wound up tight. His cell phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. Seeing Mark’s number on the caller ID, he hit the phone icon placing Mark on speaker so he could finish pulling on his clothes.

  “Yep.”

  “Is that how your momma taught you to answer the phone?”

  Liam smiled at the familiar lecture. The only reason he always answered Mark’s call in such a way was to annoy him. “We had servants for this sort of thing,” he answered by rote.

  “Un-huh. Anyhow, I found out some interesting things about Kylie Trace,” he said, fully snagging Liam’s attention.

  “Go on.”

  “Initial indications from the medical examiner are that her neck was broken, but there wasn’t a single mark on her body.”

  “How odd.”

  “Yeah, that was my thought too,” Mark agreed. “Also, it turns out, in addition to her day job at the phone company, she also worked on the side moonlighting as a medium for Madame Curion’s. It’s a spiritual advising company. It’s right around the corner from where she was waiting for the bus. I talked to the Madame Curion. According to her, Kylie possessed a genuine ability to speak to the dead. She said Kylie was the strongest psychic she’d ever met.”

  Liam’s mind stuttered to a stop before racing off in a million directions. The possibilities were endless down that road. “Did you get a list of clients?”

  “I did. I thought I would get started on interviewing them tomorrow.”

  Liam nodded even though Mark couldn’t see the motion. “What about family?”

  “I’m running into a bit of an international problem there, but I don’t think so. Here is what I have stateside. Kylie Marie Trace was born twenty-seven years ago in some tiny village in Scotland and at age seven, both parents were killed in a freak fire. She was sent to Nashville, Tennessee to live with her aunt. At the age of seventeen, her aunt died of a sudden heart attack. Since Kylie was considered a legal adult in Scotland, the trust her parents set up for her was released. She wasted no time moving here to New Orleans two weeks later.” He paused and Liam heard the shuffling of papers in the background and ice tinkling in a glass as if Mark was taking a drink before continuing. “According to both her supervisor at the phone company and Madame Curion, Kylie claimed she had no living relatives.”

  “Friends or boyfriends?” Liam barked.

  Mark sighed at his tone but answered. “There is no man I could find and only a friend named Cindy.”

  Ignoring the odd relief shooting through him upon learning there hadn’t been a man in her life, Liam tugged on his running shoes without untying them first.

  “Give me the friend’s address and I’ll work on that tomorrow.”

  Silence rang through the line and Liam checked to make sure the call hadn’t dropped. The timer was still clicking by and his temper began to rise.

  “Address,” he growled.

  “You have that weird tone you get when you’re planning something on the side.”

  Sometimes he hated that Mark knew him so well, or at least he knew him better than others did. Sighing heavily, he admitted, “I’m going to check out her place.”

  “Landlord’s not opening it up for us until the morning.”

  “Yep,” Liam agreed. “The friend’s address,” he reminded him.

  * * * * *

  Dread ate at Kylie’s gut as Liam popped the lock on her tiny two-bedroom apartment. She’d once loved her slice of the world, but that was before evil had moved in. Fear seeped into the very walls surrounding her.

  The door swung wide and without thought, Kylie gripped the back of Liam’s shirt and jumped behind him for protection. Liam froze at her touch as if he felt her tugging at his clothes but after a moment, he continued inside. She kept her pace slow, looking right then left, searching for any hint of sulfur in the air. She didn’t care if she was slowing Liam down or even if she was alerting him to her presence. She didn’t want him rushing into a trap and she didn’t know what to expect. After all, she’d ended up dead.

  “I’m so glad you’re tall,” she whispered as she blatantly used him as a shield.

  The air seemed heavy and ominous just as she feared it would but she couldn’t decide if it was a lingering feeling from past events or if they weren’t alone. When after a full minute, no flames erupted around her and Liam’s flesh was not torn from his bones, she let go of his shirt.

  Liam’s footsteps slapped against the hardwood floors and bounced off the walls of the otherwise silent room as he moved to stand in front of the couch. She knew the bland tan stripes of the overstuffed sofa weren’t what captured his attention but the giant words etched into the wood above it. With his hands clasped behind his back, he leaned closer inspecting them.

  “Kylie Trace full of grace”

  Despite the fact the words tore completely through the drywall, each letter was perfectly shaped. Liam stared at the words for so long Kylie wondered what he could see that she didn’t.

  As if the silence was some form of masterful questioning technique on Liam’s part, Kylie found herself telling him things she’d never confessed to anyone.

  “It was his way of torturing me,” she explained. “I sat in that chair,” she said, pointing to the recliner adjacent the couch even though Liam couldn’t see the motion. “I was frozen with fear and shaking so hard I thought my teeth would shatter.”

  She paused as the memory of that night caused her stomach to clench. He’d cut into the wall slowly, taunting her in a sing-song voice.

  “I’m not sure why he didn’t kill me right then. Not that it matters now,” she added absently as Liam straightened away from his inspection before trailing through the other rooms. To her mind, there wasn’t much to see. Her coffee mug sat half-empty by the sink. In the laundry room, a basket full of freshly folded clothes waited to be put away. The bright yellow paint and book-lined shelves showed hints of a once peaceful home, but those things were marred by his arrival into her life.

  Liam opened her cabinets and sifted through her mail. In truth, Kylie was getting bored with the whole thing until he headed for the bedroom. She trailed along in his wake as he crossed into her private territory. She tried seeing things through his eyes. Her full-size bed was unmade. Kylie wondered if he could tell she didn’t sleep by the way her covers balled up at the foot of the bed and her pillow sat on the floor. Liam went straight to the picture sitting on
her dresser and lifted the frame. Holding the eight-by-ten photo between his hands, he inspected it thoroughly. Kylie felt a pang of regret as she stared at the picture of a much younger version of her smiling face frozen forever in time. It had been sunny the day the picture was taken. She stood arm in arm with the sister who no longer acknowledged her. Why hadn’t she tried harder to reconnect with her before it was too late?

  “That’s my sister, Anne,” she said over Liam’s shoulder. “Of course, if you ask her, she’ll swear she’s never heard of me because she thinks I’m crazy. I haven’t spoken to her since a year before I moved from Nashville to New Orleans. At least here, I’m not considered an oddity.” Kylie swallowed hard. “For all I know, I have nieces and nephews. Not that she’d let me near them.”

  He set the frame down and moved to her closet. She hovered outside the door as he rifled through it.

  “Lord, this place is a mess,” she muttered under her breath.

  She hadn’t realized how bad it looked until someone else was staring at it. Piles of shoes were stacked haphazardly in the corner. More than half the clothes were off their hangers from where she changed her mind several times while trying on different outfits. Liam bent and picked up her favorite orange top. She shamelessly ogled his ass as he did so. She tried desperately not to picture the way it had clenched as he’d dried off with a towel after his shower but it was hard. Now it was encased in dark blue jeans hugging its perfect shape. When had it gotten so hot in her apartment she wondered as she fanned her face. Liam lifted the shirt to his face and inhaled deeply as if memorizing her scent.

  “Um, did you just sniff my shirt?”

  Liam’s mouth lifted in one corner and his eyes locked on the oak nightstand next to her bed.

  “Oh my God,” she said, sounding horrified to her own ears.

  He made a beeline for the table. On a burst of mortified speed, she reached it a half second after him. He tugged at the handle, opening the drawer an inch before she slammed it closed.

  “Don’t open that!” she cried.

  Liam froze with his fingers still wrapped around the knob. With a shrug, he jerked open the drawer exposing the inside. Dropping his chin to his chest, he stared down at the contents. Kylie threw herself down across the bed covering her face with her hands.

  She could feel the flush of embarrassment crawling over her skin. She didn’t doubt for a minute she was beet red.

  “Kill me now.”

  The bed dipped next to Kylie as Liam sat down barely missing her legs. The warmth of his hip pressing against her thigh felt solid.

  He chuckled as he began shuffling through the drawer. “Not such an innocent after all.”

  “Oh, shut up,” she grumbled as she sat up and leaned over his shoulder. “I suppose you’ll want to check my Google search history next. Dear Lord.”

  *

  Kylie’s scent lingered on every item in her home and Liam couldn’t get enough. It smelled of coconut and woman. Both things he found delicious. Admittedly, he was a bit surprised by the naughtiness of her bedside table. Everything else about Kylie’s life seemed so innocent, but every new thing he came across made him realize she had possessed depths she hadn’t allowed anyone to see.

  There was a small silver vibrator connected to a cord. It had a controller with several speed settings. He couldn’t identify a few sex toys such as a set of three black metallic things that came in different sizes. He wasn’t sure what they were used for but he could guess.

  Underneath it all, the corner of a pink book with little red flowers caught his eye. Pushing everything to the side, he pulled it out. As soon as he flipped open the cover, he realized it was a journal. Her writing was bold and expressive with the large curly letters of a feminine hand, in the first half of the book. The closer he came to the end, the more the writing became scrawled and almost unintelligible. Several pages had been ripped out of the back of the book. He turned to the last entry and read the words aloud.

  “Septem says I’ll die soon and it will be painful. I don’t doubt it’s true. I don’t think I can hold out against him much longer.”

  Closing the book, Liam stared off into space while tapping the journal against his knee. “Septem,” he repeated.

  A crash shot through the apartment. Liam scrambled to his feet while tossing the journal onto the bed. Following the direction of the sound, Liam drew his gun from the holster at his side as he twisted the knob on the door across the hall. Poking his head in quickly, his gaze darted around the room. Finding it empty, he stepped the rest of the way inside. He could only gawk at what he found. A twin-size bed covered in dolls stuck out from one wall. A wooden rocking chair sat to one side of the bed. A clown tall enough to come up to his hip sat staring out at him. Its painted glass face had red triangles around the blackened eyes and an eerie smile stretched its lips. A patchwork costume of bright purple and white covered its overstuffed body. Curled-toe shoes that were two-sizes too big pointed up toward the ceiling. As Liam moved farther into the room, the doll’s eyes seemed to follow his every move. This room was bigger than the one Kylie used as her own. It was almost as if she’d abandoned this one for the smaller of the two. One look at the walls explained why she would do such a thing. “Kylie Trace full of grace” was etched into the wall thousands of times over and over again until every bare inch was covered in the saying.

  The closer he moved to inspect the damage, the more oppressive the air became. A strong sulfur odor filled the room. His chest constricted as he struggled to breathe, but he managed to make it to the edge of the mattress. The low lighting made it hard to see and he was forced to lean closer to the walls but he knew before looking, the etchings were every bit as deep as the ones in living room.

  With his gaze locked on the wall, a small slit appeared in the wood followed immediately by another until it read, “Kylie is mine.”

  A movement in the corner of his eye snagged his attention as the chair on the other side of the bed began to rock. He stared hard at it trying to decide what was missing when it finally clicked that the clown was gone. He examined the floor around the chair in search of the missing doll. The bedroom door squeaked as it began slowly closing catching his attention before slamming shut. Liam lunged for the handle half expecting it to refuse to budge but it easily turned beneath his fingers. He was in no mood to play games. His progress halted as he ran headlong into a figure standing on the other side.

  The older lady squealed as his two hundred plus body slammed into hers, but he snagged her shoulders before she could hit the floor.

  “Get your hands off me. That’s it. I’m calling the police.”

  “Jesus Christ lady. You scared the shit out of me,” Liam admitted as the tiny gray-haired woman swatted his hands away.

  “Scared you? You’re the thief here.”

  Motioning toward his waist, he pointed out his badge. “No need to call anyone. I’m already here.”

  *

  Mrs. Turner drew herself up to her full five feet and patted her perfectly coiffed hair. “You’re not supposed to be in here until tomorrow morning so how was I to know?”

  Kylie rolled her eyes. “Don’t bother asking how she knew that. She’s a nosy bitch.”

  Liam shrugged as if he could feel Kylie plastered to his back and she slid her feet to the floor. She wasn’t a bit ashamed she’d immediately curled her body around his when Septem had appeared. He was every bit as scary now as he’d been when she was still alive. Of course, she was learning death had done little but make her invisible. With her no longer riding him like a monkey, Liam holstered his gun. “How exactly are you aware of our timeline, Mrs.…” He trailed off and Kylie huffed.

  “I told you not to bother asking, sheesh! Nobody listens to me,” Kylie bitched then chuckled at her own words.

  “Turner,” the older woman supplied as she gave her hair another pat and her eyes skittered away guiltily. “People tell me things,” she answered evasively.

  “Un-
huh. Nosy bitch,” Kylie said again trailing away. She kept half an ear on the conversation while checking for any sign Septem was still hanging around. She didn’t have any real desire to hear what Sonya had to say. It said a lot to Kylie’s mind that even in death, she preferred to be alone in an apartment with Septem than listening to Sonya Turner bitch about society. She’d been forced to listen to her drivel daily, usually as she was just coming in from work and was ready to pee her pants. Mrs. Turner loved to hear herself talk and it was always something spiteful.

  “I’m not surprised that poor girl ended up dead. She had dinner plans with some strange man the other night.”

  “HA!”

  “I told her loose girls come to bad ends.”

  “Double ha,” Kylie said because she could.

  “Do you know anything about this man, such as his name or did you get a good look at him?” Liam asked and Kylie sidled closer. She found she was more interested than she first suspected. Sonya was a real piece of work but now Kylie wanted to know how far her snooping abilities actually went. She stood at Sonya’s back and watched Liam’s face as Sonya answered.

  “No. I didn’t actually see him. Kylie merely mentioned as she was coming in from work she was in hurry because she was meeting her friend Keith—or something to that effect—for coffee.”

  Liam lifted one eyebrow, managing to scoff at Sonya’s words without making a sound. Kylie was impressed with his calm. It wasn’t any wonder as to how he ended up a cop. He’d encountered a demon—of course he was probably already making excuses in his head as to what he really saw—but his hands weren’t even shaking.

  “What makes you think he was some strange guy if she said he was a friend?”

  “Yeah,” Kylie said close to Sonya’s ear taunting her and Sonya shifted nervously as if she could feel Kylie even if she couldn’t see her.

  “Because Kylie only had one friend—that awful Cindy girl—and no man would have her.”