Soul Seducer (3 page)

Reapers have no business mingling in the human world
.
Stay away, serve your sentence, get through the remaining fifty years so you’ll finally have peace.
He damn sure never had peace in life. But then, that was his own doing.

Pushing away from the post, he meandered closer. Audra knelt in the flowerbed beneath the front window, pulling weeds from the ground. As he reached the curb across the street, she froze, lifting her head.

He halted, dread settling in his gut. Had she sensed him? Surely she hadn’t really seen them in her room that night? Couldn’t still see them? If so, that would be disastrous.

He was debating whether to test the theory by approaching her when he felt a familiar pulling at his mind. The sensation seeped downward to his chest, growing until it was almost painful.

Damn.

He was being summoned. Someone was in jeopardy. He wouldn’t know if they were to be taken until it was over, but he had to go. Had to be there in case Gaylen got any ideas about making an appearance. He backed away, keeping Audra in his sight for as long as possible.

He let the sensation lead him to a small motel room. Not exactly a five-star one from the looks of it.

The room held two occupants. The girl was young, maybe in her late teens, although admittedly it was becoming more and more difficult for him to guess ages. After being dead for over two hundred years, that was to be expected.

A man crouched over the girl. Dimitri could only see the back of him, but he appeared to be older than she. His hair showed hints of gray, and his damp T-shirt was molded to rolls of fat. The bottom of a tattoo was visible beneath the sleeve of his shirt. Was that a dragon? A dinosaur? Dimitri squinted. Maybe Godzilla. It was definitely some kind of monster. Fitting.

The man cut the strap of the girl’s pink, lacey bra. She screamed, and he clamped his hand over her mouth. Mascara-smeared eyes wide with terror, she fought against his grip, but she was no match for the man’s strength, or for his frenzied excitement.

The girl’s pale, pink-streaked hair clung damply to her cheeks as she wept. Skimpy clothing lay discarded on the floor. A prostitute, perhaps? Or maybe just a foolish runaway who had no idea what kind of danger she’d gotten herself into when she took to the streets. She certainly had an idea now.

No light filtered in through the curtained windows. The room was nearly dark, save for the glow of the muted TV. The screen flickered with images of people at a party, drinking, laughing, while on the bed in the room that reeked of sweat, old food, and fear, the girl struggled for her life.

Dimitri positioned himself at the side of the bed. He could now see the man’s face. A goatee sprouted from his chin. The skin on his forehead was slick with perspiration. Older, just as Dimitri had guessed, but how much older he couldn’t be certain.

The pink scrap of material now lay in tatters next to the terrified girl. Still holding the knife with one hand, the man squeezed her bare, exposed breast with the other. His fat jiggled as he pounded into the girl, his grunts of pleasure nearly drowning out her pain-filled cries.

After a few moments, he collapsed on top of her, his hand sliding away from her mouth.

“Let me go, please,” she whimpered. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

The man roused and stared down at her, blinking rapidly as if unsure who she was or what had just happened. “Sorry. Can’t do that.”

“But, you don’t have to hurt me. I don’t know your name, don’t know who you are. I can’t tell them—”

“Shhhh,” he interrupted, his whispered voice gratingly loud in the small room. “Really. You have to stop babbling.”

“Okay. Anything you say.” Her round gaze now reflected a glimmer of hope.

The man’s brows drew together, and he studied her for a moment. Then, as casually as he might have changed the channel with the remote lying nearby, he lifted the knife and slid it across her neck.

Her eyes widened further, and her hands flew to her throat. She made a gurgling noise, blood pumping from the gaping wound in her neck.

The man wiped the knife on the sheets, then slid off of her. He stood, retrieving his pants from the floor and tugging them on. After zipping up, he slipped on a pair of gloves, then went around the room, wiping surfaces he might have touched and searching for items he might have left behind.

Dimitri turned his attention back to the bed. A nearly transparent twin of the dead girl rose slowly from her lifeless body. The spirit whipped its head from side to side, the features showing almost as much fear as they had in life.

Dimitri stepped forward and held out his hand. “Come.”

Tears brimmed in her eyes, and she looked down at the figure on the bed, then at him. She shook her head vigorously, not acknowledging the only living creature in the room—her killer—who now stood at the door with his gloved hand on the knob. He cast one last, triumphant, lascivious look at his victim and cracked the door open, sliding out and letting it fall shut behind him.

“It’s okay.” Dimitri kept his voice low, soothing. “You’ll be okay. Just come with me.”

Her head shook even more vigorously, and she backed away, stumbling over her own body, falling off the bed and onto the floor in a heap. She sprung to her feet and looked around wildly, making no sound, although Dimitri could hear the keening of her soul as she wailed in despair and terror.

He moved closer and took one of her hands in his. He put his other on her cheek and turned her face up until she was looking into his eyes.

“I promise you,” he said softly. “Everything will be okay. Just come with me, please. There’s nothing here for you now.”

He didn’t know if it was the realization he was right, or the comfort of his touch, but she nodded, then looked once more at her former self and let him lead her away.

They moved through the walls out into the evening air. Dimitri could feel the coolness of the night breeze. He’d been in this state long enough that he’d started to experience a few of the sensations he had when he’d been human. The girl, however, no longer felt anything.

They walked for a few moments before Dimitri halted. He nudged her gently on the back. She looked over her shoulder and offered him one last, shy smile before moving away, her footsteps silent as she became dimmer and dimmer until she disappeared altogether.

~*~

Jaxon slapped the chart on the desk and rested his elbows next to it as he leaned toward Audra. Altering his normal tone of voice, he said, “This is the worst fake I.D. I've ever seen. You realize you made yourself sixty-eight.”

His mouth spread from one corner of his face to the other as he waited for her answer. It was a game they’d played since childhood. Growing up, they’d been obsessed with movies and had taken to challenging one another in the movie quote game. Every wrong answer cost the guesser ten bucks. By Audra’s calculation, she owed Jaxon roughly a million dollars, give or take a few hundred. She loved movies as much as he did, but he retained more details than she did.

“What’s with the big, goofy smile?” she asked.

“Just guess the movie. Are you trying to get out of owing me another ten bucks? You don’t know, do you?”

“As a matter of fact I do. Just curious why you’re grinning like a big dufus.”

He reached out and chugged her chin with his bent forefinger. “Because. I’m really glad you’re back.”

“Yeah?” She returned the smile. “Me, too.”

“Now, what movie is it from? Need me to repeat the quote?”

“Doctor Maroney. Good morning.” A strident voice interrupted them, and Audra turned to the source. Her co-worker, Tonya, had joined them and stood, staring at Jaxon like he was the last chocolate in a box of empty wrappers.

Jaxon shot Audra a look and, while he didn’t roll his eyes, his expression said he wanted to. “Hello, Tonya.”

Tonya was short and rotund. Her hair was a riotous mop that had been every shade of red in the universe during the six years Audra had known her, including a short period where an inept hairdresser had created an unfortunate blend of yellow and mauve.

In spite of Tonya’s lack of physical appeal, she was popular with the male species and had bedded at least half of the men who worked at the hospital. She’d been gunning for Jaxon hard, not knowing she waged a fruitless battle. He followed the ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy. He thought his reputation and trust might be compromised if people knew he was gay, so he kept it on the down low.

Audra could have saved Tonya some time and trouble, and saved Jaxon some stress and frustration, but she’d made a promise to Jaxon years ago that she wouldn’t reveal his secret. Besides, it was a lot more fun to watch him squirm.

“So, Doctor Maroney,” Tonya said, her voice lilting hopefully. “Are you going to the hospital Halloween party with anyone?”

The party was a few days before Halloween. There was no way they could have it on the actual night. Nearly everyone on staff would be working. Halloween was one of the busiest nights of the year.

Jaxon turned his petrified gaze to Audra. “Well, I…actually…”

Smiling mischievously, Audra said, “I need to go check on Ms. Chapman. I’ll leave you two alone to chat.”

Ignoring the pleading in Jaxon’s expression, she gave a little wave and headed around the desk. She didn’t feel the least bit guilty. Served him right for being so smug about the huge lead he had on her in the movie quote game.

Which reminded her...

She paused and glanced over her shoulder to see Tonya was now the one leaning on the desk, and Jaxon was bent almost backward in an effort to distance himself from her.

“Hey, Doctor Maroney,” Audra called.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice sounding almost as hopeful as Tonya’s had.

Audra shoved her hands in the pockets of her cranberry-colored scrubs and gave him a smile. “
The Breakfast Club
.”

His face fell, and she chortled, heading down the hall to Ms. Chapman’s room.

Although morning, the sun had yet to rise. The room was coated in darkness, save for the lights from the machines pumping next to the bed, aiding the frail woman who clung to life.

Ms. Chapman lay still, eyes closed, chest rising and falling almost imperceptibly. Audra checked the readings on the monitor, then turned back to the woman.

“How you doing, sweetie? You about ready to get out of here?” She smoothed a wisp of gray hair off the elderly woman’s forehead. “I bet those men down at Sunnyview are lonely without their best gal.”

Audra let out a sigh. It was unlikely Ms. Chapman would be going back to Sunnyview Retirement Center. Poor thing. Her heart was weak. She’d had a triple bypass a few days ago and was here for post op care. Her condition was worsening. At her age, it was difficult to recover from major surgery.

Sensing movement behind her, Audra whirled. In the shadowed corner of the room, she could make out the figure of a man, although she couldn’t distinguish his features.

Visiting hours weren’t until ten a.m. And even then, only family members were allowed in this wing of the ICU. Audra had met each of Ms. Chapman’s relatives, and this man wasn’t one of them. She could tell by his body type and height. The only male in Ms. Chapman’s immediate family was her son, and he was short and stocky.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice hushed. “You can’t be in here.”

He looked behind him, then back at her. “You can see me?”

She frowned in puzzlement. “Of course.”

“You saw me that night. Both those nights.”

Her frown deepened. “What nights?”

He moved from the gloom, drawing closer. Her instinct was to back away, but she forced herself to remain in place.

As he left the shadows behind, his features emerged and part of her brain recognized him, but she wouldn’t let the terrifying thought solidify.

He wore faded jeans and a form-fitting black T-shirt. His pectoral muscles and biceps would rival a male model’s. They were tight and well-defined, not overly bulky like those of steroid-enhanced body builders.

Reluctantly, her mind acknowledged she’d seen him before. He’d been part of her hallucinations. Her worst nightmares were becoming a reality.

Somehow not as frightened as she should have been, she stared into his icicle blue eyes as he continued to move slowly toward her. She waited, holding her breath in expectation.

Why did she feel this tingly sense of excitement? This glimmer of anxiousness mixed with fear? Why did she feel like she might explode with anticipation?

He halted a couple of steps in front of her and lifted his hand, brushing it along the scar on her cheekbone, causing a shudder in the pit of her stomach. A current moved in the air, like a burst of electricity.

“The first time was the night you got this.” His words were a whisper along her skin, as was his touch...almost as if his caress was the hint of a sensation, but not actual contact. Her eyes drifted shut and she swayed toward him. Her nipples tightened. She swallowed back a moan as heat seared between her thighs. She wasn’t even dismayed at her sexual response to his nearness. It felt so right...so deliciously right. One slight move forward and she could touch him, press her aching breasts against his chest. Biting her lower lip, she just barely held back from giving in to the urge.