Halfway to the Grave
Page 8
"Bones?" I called out, traveling further into the cave.
A whoosh of air came from above me. I pivoted on one leg and struck out forcefully with the other, knocking my attacker to the side. Then I ducked in time to avoid the fist that shot toward my skull, and backflipped out of range from the next lightning punch.
"Very good!" The pleased voice belonged to my undead trainer.
I relaxed. "Testing me again, Bones? Where did you come from, anyway?"
"There," he replied, pointing up.
I followed his gesture and saw a small crevice in the rock about a hundred feet up. How in the world had he gotten up there?
"Like this," he answered my unspoken question, and propelled himself straight upward as though he'd been yanked on a string.
I was openmouthed. Five weeks and he'd never done anything like that before.
"Wow. Neat trick. Something new?"
"No, luv," he said as he plummeted down with grace. "Something old, like I am. Remember, just because a vampire isn't in front of you doesn't mean he's not right on top of you."
"Got it," I murmured. Five weeks ago I would have blushed like crazy. Now I didn't even blink at the possible innuendo.
"Now, then, let's move on to our final phase. Turning you into a seductress. Probably going to be our most difficult yet."
"Gee, thanks."
We reached what was the makeshift family room, which was rather normal-looking, if you didn't count the limestone and stalagmite walls. Bones pirated electricity from a nearby power link and rerouted it cleverly into the cave. Thus he had lamps, a computer, and a television plugged in by the sofa and chairs. He even had a space heater for when he tired of the cave's natural mid-fifties temperature. Hang a few paintings and add some decorative throw pillows, and it could be a subterranean feature in House Beautiful.
Bones grabbed his denim jacket and led me back toward the entrance of the cave.
"Come on. We're going to a salon, and I expect this will take a while."
"You can't be serious."
I looked with a mixture of revulsion and disbelief at my reflection in the full-length mirror Bones had propped up against the wall. Five hours at Hot Hair Salon had given me an exact understanding of what it was like to go through the washer and dryer. I'd been washed, waxed, plucked, snipped, blown dry, manicured, pedicured, sloughed, exfoliated, curled, primped, and then covered in shades of makeup. I hadn't even wanted to look at myself by the time Bones had returned to pick me up, and I'd refused to speak to him on the way back to the cave. Finally seeing the end result made me break my silence.
"There is no way I'm going out in public like this!"
It seemed while I was being tormented at the salon, Bones had been out shopping. I didn't ask where he got the money from, images of old folks with their necks bleeding and their wallets missing dancing in my head. There were boots, earrings, push-up bras, skirts, and something he swore to me were dresses but only looked like pieces of dresses. I was wearing one of those now, a bright green and silver number cut about four inches above my knees and way too low in the front. That, combined with my new leather boots, curled hair, and makeup, made me feel like a twenty-dollar whore.
"You look smashing." He grinned. "Can't hardly stop myself from ripping your clothes off."
"You think this is funny, don't you? This is all a big...bloody chuckle-fest to you!"
He sprang forward. "This isn't a joke, but it is a game. Winner takes all. You need every advantage you can get. If some poor undead fellow is busy looking at these"-he flipped the material of my dress outward to get a peek before I slapped his hand away-"then he won't be looking for this."
Something hard was pressed against my belly. I wrapped my hands around it and squared my shoulders.
"Is that a stake, Bones, or are you just happy with my new dress?"
He gave me a grin that was filled with more innuendo than an hour's worth of conversation.
"In this case, it's a stake. You could always feel around for something more, though. See what comes up."
"This better be part of that dirty-talk training, or we're going to give this new stake a go."
"Now, pet, that's hardly a romantic rejoinder. Concentrate! You do look great, by the way. That bra does wonders for your cleavage."
"Slime," I spat, resisting the urge to glance down and see for myself. Later, when he wasn't looking, I'd check it out.
"Moving on, Kitten. Put the stake in your boot. You'll find there's a loop for it."
I reached down and found a leather circle inside each boot. The stake fit snugly inside, concealed yet within easy reach. I'd wondered where I was supposed to hide a weapon in this skin-tight dress.
"Put your other one away as well," he instructed me. Complying, I was now outfitted as Cat, the Vampire-Killing Slut.
"That loop was a great idea, Bones."
The compliment flowed off my tongue, and I regretted it at once. He didn't need praise. This wasn't a friendship, it was a business arrangement.
"Done it myself a time or two. Hmmm, still something not right, something missing..."
He walked in a circle around me. I held still as he scrutinized my every angle. It was nerve-wracking, to say the least.
"I've got it!" he declared suddenly, snapping his fingers in triumph. "Take your knickers off."
"What?" Did that mean what I think it did?
"Your knickers. You know-panties, underwear, muff-huggers, nasty nets-"
"Are you out of your mind?" I interrupted. "This is where I draw the line! What does my underwear have to do with anything? I am not flashing my...my crotch at someone, no matter what you say!"
He spread his hands toward me in a conciliatory way. "Look, you don't have to flash anyone anything. Believe me, a vampire will know right off without you showing him that your box is unwrapped."
Pushing the crude imagery out of my mind before I exploded, I jumped right in with both feet. "And just how's he supposed to know that? No panty lines?"
"The scent, pet," he replied instantly. That did it. My face must have been every shade of crimson. "No vamp in the world could mistake that. Like dangling bloomin' catnip in front of a kitty. Bloke gets a good whiff of-"
"Will you stop?" I fought to alleviate my intense embarrassment. "I get the picture! Stop drawing it, okay? God, but you are-are...profane!"
With anger as a buffer, I could look him in the eye again.
"I hardly see how that's necessary. You've got me dressed in these screw-me clothes, I'm all dolled up with hair and makeup, and I'm going to burn their ears off with dirty talk. If that isn't enough to get them to take me for a ride, then I think it's hopeless."
He stood very still the way vampires do, utterly motionless. It creeped me out when he did that, because it let me know how foreign our two species were. I had half of that contamination. Half of that blood flowed in my veins. His face was thoughtful-we could have been discussing the weather. The hollows and planes of his cheekbones were reflected from the overhead light. He was still the most chiseled man I'd ever seen.
"It's like this, luv," he responded at last. "You look right fetching now with your new togs, but suppose a fellow prefers blondes? Or brunettes? Or likes 'em with a little more meat on the arse? These aren't greenhorns looking for the first available artery. These are Master vampires with discriminating tastes. We might need something to tip the scales, as it were. Think of it as...advertising. Is it really that difficult for you? You know, with a vampire's natural sense of smell, it's not like he can't sniff you out in the first place. Blimey, I can tell right off when you've got your monthlies, knickers or no knickers. Some things you just-"
"All right!" Inhale slowly, exhale slowly. Don't let him see how he's traumatized you with the thought of him scenting out your period. "I get your point. Fine, I'll do it, when we go out on Friday. Not before. I'm not negotiating on this one."
"Whatever you say." He sounded amenable, but it was a lie. Everything was done his way. I only pretended to win some battles. "Now, then, let's get on to the nasty speak."
We sat at a table opposite each other. Bones held my hands despite my protest, arguing that if I flinched or twitched repeatedly, it would be a dead giveaway. Pun intended. Between my expressions and my hand movements, he had his lie detector test. For every blush and recoil I gave, it would be ten miles running through the woods with him chasing me. I was determined not to take that nature jog from hell.
"You look luscious, pet. The only thing that could make your mouth more beautiful is if it were wrapped around my cock. I wager you could start my heart again. I'd like to bend you over just to hear how loud you can scream. I bet you like it rough, you'd like me to tear into you until you can't beg anymore..."
"My, my, someone hasn't been laid in a while," I mocked, proud of myself for not running out of the room.
It wasn't just his words, or the little circles his thumb traced on my palm. His eyes were dark and heated as though lit from within, looking right into mine with a knowing stare that made every word more intimate. Filled with promise and threat. His tongue flicked out to trace the inside of his lower lip, making me wonder if he imagined doing all of the things he described. It took all of my willpower to hold his gaze.
"I'll take your br**sts inside my mouth, licking your ni**les until they turn dark red. They'll do that, luv. The more I lick and the more I nibble, the darker they'll get. Let me inform you of a secret about vampires-we direct where the blood goes in our bodies, for as long as we want it to be there. I can't wait to find out how you taste, and you won't want me to stop even after I've completely exhausted you. You'll think you were on fire, your skin will burn. I'll suck all of your juices out of you. And then I'll drink your blood."
"Huh?" Understanding dawned about the sequence of the last two lines, and with it came a sudden mental image of him doing that to me.
A flush scorched across my cheeks in the next instant. Mortified, I snatched my hands away and stood so abruptly the chair fell over.
Taunting laughter followed me.
"Oh, Kitten, you were doing so well! Guess you just couldn't pass up a nice stroll in the woods. Beautiful night for it, I smell a storm coming. And you wonder why I had you pegged as an innocent. I've met nuns who were more promiscuous. I knew it would be the oral stuff that did you in, I would have bet my life on it."
"You don't have a life, you're dead."
I was trying to remind myself of that. Listening to his explicit detailing of everything he could do to me-not that I would ever let him, of course!-had made that a hard point to remember. I shook my head, trying to clear it of the images dancing in it.
"That's a matter of opinion. In fact, if you judge by senses and reflexes, I'm as alive as any human, just with a few more upgrades."
"Upgrades? You're not a computer. You're a killer."
He rocked back on the two legs of his chair, easily balanced. He wore a charcoal-gray pullover that hugged his shoulders and skimmed his collarbone. Black pants were nearly a staple with him; I wondered if he owned any other color. The dark colors only accented his light hair and pale skin, making them even more incandescent. This was no accident, I knew. Everything was deliberate with Bones. With those incredible cheekbones and his ripped physique, he was stunning. And dangerous, yet somewhere along the line I'd lost most of my fear of him.
"You're a killer, too, luv, or did you forget that? You know, those who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, and all that rot. Really, Kitten, why so shy on our former topic? Didn't that sodding chap who shagged you kiss you everywhere first? Don't tell me the wretch neglected foreplay."
"Not unless you count him taking his clothes off as foreplay." Goddamn Bones, and damn Danny Milton as well. Maybe one day I could look back and not feel a sting. "Can we not talk about that? It hardly puts me in the proper mood."
Something cold flashed across his face, but his voice was light. "Don't fret over him, pet. If I meet him, I'll snap him in half for you. No, we won't speak of him any longer. Ready to go back to the table now? Or do you need a few more minutes to cool off?"
There was that insinuating tone again, making simple words sound graphic.
"I'm ready. I just wasn't prepared before." I sat back at the table and slid my hands into his waiting grip. "Go on. Give it your best shot."
He grinned with a slow sexy twist of his lips and the fire leapt back into his eyes.
"Love to give it my best shot. Let me tell you just how I'd do it..."
Two hours later, my ears were burned to twin crisps, and I owed him forty miles. Bones was in high spirits. Why wouldn't he be? He had just hypothetically f**ked me into incomprehension. Tartly I asked him if he wanted a cigarette when he was finished, and he informed me with a laugh that he'd quit smoking. Heard it wasn't good for his health. God, the man amused himself with his own jokes.
I used one of the cave's small enclosed areas as a changing room to strip out of the harlot's dress and put on my jogging clothes. Bones always collected on his bets, never mind that there was now a thunderstorm out. We were going for our little tortuous run in the woods. With my hair rolled into a bun to avoid it lashing me in the face, I squeezed out from behind the rocks to find him waiting for me. He gave me a once-over, and that cocky twist returned to his lips.
A whoosh of air came from above me. I pivoted on one leg and struck out forcefully with the other, knocking my attacker to the side. Then I ducked in time to avoid the fist that shot toward my skull, and backflipped out of range from the next lightning punch.
"Very good!" The pleased voice belonged to my undead trainer.
I relaxed. "Testing me again, Bones? Where did you come from, anyway?"
"There," he replied, pointing up.
I followed his gesture and saw a small crevice in the rock about a hundred feet up. How in the world had he gotten up there?
"Like this," he answered my unspoken question, and propelled himself straight upward as though he'd been yanked on a string.
I was openmouthed. Five weeks and he'd never done anything like that before.
"Wow. Neat trick. Something new?"
"No, luv," he said as he plummeted down with grace. "Something old, like I am. Remember, just because a vampire isn't in front of you doesn't mean he's not right on top of you."
"Got it," I murmured. Five weeks ago I would have blushed like crazy. Now I didn't even blink at the possible innuendo.
"Now, then, let's move on to our final phase. Turning you into a seductress. Probably going to be our most difficult yet."
"Gee, thanks."
We reached what was the makeshift family room, which was rather normal-looking, if you didn't count the limestone and stalagmite walls. Bones pirated electricity from a nearby power link and rerouted it cleverly into the cave. Thus he had lamps, a computer, and a television plugged in by the sofa and chairs. He even had a space heater for when he tired of the cave's natural mid-fifties temperature. Hang a few paintings and add some decorative throw pillows, and it could be a subterranean feature in House Beautiful.
Bones grabbed his denim jacket and led me back toward the entrance of the cave.
"Come on. We're going to a salon, and I expect this will take a while."
"You can't be serious."
I looked with a mixture of revulsion and disbelief at my reflection in the full-length mirror Bones had propped up against the wall. Five hours at Hot Hair Salon had given me an exact understanding of what it was like to go through the washer and dryer. I'd been washed, waxed, plucked, snipped, blown dry, manicured, pedicured, sloughed, exfoliated, curled, primped, and then covered in shades of makeup. I hadn't even wanted to look at myself by the time Bones had returned to pick me up, and I'd refused to speak to him on the way back to the cave. Finally seeing the end result made me break my silence.
"There is no way I'm going out in public like this!"
It seemed while I was being tormented at the salon, Bones had been out shopping. I didn't ask where he got the money from, images of old folks with their necks bleeding and their wallets missing dancing in my head. There were boots, earrings, push-up bras, skirts, and something he swore to me were dresses but only looked like pieces of dresses. I was wearing one of those now, a bright green and silver number cut about four inches above my knees and way too low in the front. That, combined with my new leather boots, curled hair, and makeup, made me feel like a twenty-dollar whore.
"You look smashing." He grinned. "Can't hardly stop myself from ripping your clothes off."
"You think this is funny, don't you? This is all a big...bloody chuckle-fest to you!"
He sprang forward. "This isn't a joke, but it is a game. Winner takes all. You need every advantage you can get. If some poor undead fellow is busy looking at these"-he flipped the material of my dress outward to get a peek before I slapped his hand away-"then he won't be looking for this."
Something hard was pressed against my belly. I wrapped my hands around it and squared my shoulders.
"Is that a stake, Bones, or are you just happy with my new dress?"
He gave me a grin that was filled with more innuendo than an hour's worth of conversation.
"In this case, it's a stake. You could always feel around for something more, though. See what comes up."
"This better be part of that dirty-talk training, or we're going to give this new stake a go."
"Now, pet, that's hardly a romantic rejoinder. Concentrate! You do look great, by the way. That bra does wonders for your cleavage."
"Slime," I spat, resisting the urge to glance down and see for myself. Later, when he wasn't looking, I'd check it out.
"Moving on, Kitten. Put the stake in your boot. You'll find there's a loop for it."
I reached down and found a leather circle inside each boot. The stake fit snugly inside, concealed yet within easy reach. I'd wondered where I was supposed to hide a weapon in this skin-tight dress.
"Put your other one away as well," he instructed me. Complying, I was now outfitted as Cat, the Vampire-Killing Slut.
"That loop was a great idea, Bones."
The compliment flowed off my tongue, and I regretted it at once. He didn't need praise. This wasn't a friendship, it was a business arrangement.
"Done it myself a time or two. Hmmm, still something not right, something missing..."
He walked in a circle around me. I held still as he scrutinized my every angle. It was nerve-wracking, to say the least.
"I've got it!" he declared suddenly, snapping his fingers in triumph. "Take your knickers off."
"What?" Did that mean what I think it did?
"Your knickers. You know-panties, underwear, muff-huggers, nasty nets-"
"Are you out of your mind?" I interrupted. "This is where I draw the line! What does my underwear have to do with anything? I am not flashing my...my crotch at someone, no matter what you say!"
He spread his hands toward me in a conciliatory way. "Look, you don't have to flash anyone anything. Believe me, a vampire will know right off without you showing him that your box is unwrapped."
Pushing the crude imagery out of my mind before I exploded, I jumped right in with both feet. "And just how's he supposed to know that? No panty lines?"
"The scent, pet," he replied instantly. That did it. My face must have been every shade of crimson. "No vamp in the world could mistake that. Like dangling bloomin' catnip in front of a kitty. Bloke gets a good whiff of-"
"Will you stop?" I fought to alleviate my intense embarrassment. "I get the picture! Stop drawing it, okay? God, but you are-are...profane!"
With anger as a buffer, I could look him in the eye again.
"I hardly see how that's necessary. You've got me dressed in these screw-me clothes, I'm all dolled up with hair and makeup, and I'm going to burn their ears off with dirty talk. If that isn't enough to get them to take me for a ride, then I think it's hopeless."
He stood very still the way vampires do, utterly motionless. It creeped me out when he did that, because it let me know how foreign our two species were. I had half of that contamination. Half of that blood flowed in my veins. His face was thoughtful-we could have been discussing the weather. The hollows and planes of his cheekbones were reflected from the overhead light. He was still the most chiseled man I'd ever seen.
"It's like this, luv," he responded at last. "You look right fetching now with your new togs, but suppose a fellow prefers blondes? Or brunettes? Or likes 'em with a little more meat on the arse? These aren't greenhorns looking for the first available artery. These are Master vampires with discriminating tastes. We might need something to tip the scales, as it were. Think of it as...advertising. Is it really that difficult for you? You know, with a vampire's natural sense of smell, it's not like he can't sniff you out in the first place. Blimey, I can tell right off when you've got your monthlies, knickers or no knickers. Some things you just-"
"All right!" Inhale slowly, exhale slowly. Don't let him see how he's traumatized you with the thought of him scenting out your period. "I get your point. Fine, I'll do it, when we go out on Friday. Not before. I'm not negotiating on this one."
"Whatever you say." He sounded amenable, but it was a lie. Everything was done his way. I only pretended to win some battles. "Now, then, let's get on to the nasty speak."
We sat at a table opposite each other. Bones held my hands despite my protest, arguing that if I flinched or twitched repeatedly, it would be a dead giveaway. Pun intended. Between my expressions and my hand movements, he had his lie detector test. For every blush and recoil I gave, it would be ten miles running through the woods with him chasing me. I was determined not to take that nature jog from hell.
"You look luscious, pet. The only thing that could make your mouth more beautiful is if it were wrapped around my cock. I wager you could start my heart again. I'd like to bend you over just to hear how loud you can scream. I bet you like it rough, you'd like me to tear into you until you can't beg anymore..."
"My, my, someone hasn't been laid in a while," I mocked, proud of myself for not running out of the room.
It wasn't just his words, or the little circles his thumb traced on my palm. His eyes were dark and heated as though lit from within, looking right into mine with a knowing stare that made every word more intimate. Filled with promise and threat. His tongue flicked out to trace the inside of his lower lip, making me wonder if he imagined doing all of the things he described. It took all of my willpower to hold his gaze.
"I'll take your br**sts inside my mouth, licking your ni**les until they turn dark red. They'll do that, luv. The more I lick and the more I nibble, the darker they'll get. Let me inform you of a secret about vampires-we direct where the blood goes in our bodies, for as long as we want it to be there. I can't wait to find out how you taste, and you won't want me to stop even after I've completely exhausted you. You'll think you were on fire, your skin will burn. I'll suck all of your juices out of you. And then I'll drink your blood."
"Huh?" Understanding dawned about the sequence of the last two lines, and with it came a sudden mental image of him doing that to me.
A flush scorched across my cheeks in the next instant. Mortified, I snatched my hands away and stood so abruptly the chair fell over.
Taunting laughter followed me.
"Oh, Kitten, you were doing so well! Guess you just couldn't pass up a nice stroll in the woods. Beautiful night for it, I smell a storm coming. And you wonder why I had you pegged as an innocent. I've met nuns who were more promiscuous. I knew it would be the oral stuff that did you in, I would have bet my life on it."
"You don't have a life, you're dead."
I was trying to remind myself of that. Listening to his explicit detailing of everything he could do to me-not that I would ever let him, of course!-had made that a hard point to remember. I shook my head, trying to clear it of the images dancing in it.
"That's a matter of opinion. In fact, if you judge by senses and reflexes, I'm as alive as any human, just with a few more upgrades."
"Upgrades? You're not a computer. You're a killer."
He rocked back on the two legs of his chair, easily balanced. He wore a charcoal-gray pullover that hugged his shoulders and skimmed his collarbone. Black pants were nearly a staple with him; I wondered if he owned any other color. The dark colors only accented his light hair and pale skin, making them even more incandescent. This was no accident, I knew. Everything was deliberate with Bones. With those incredible cheekbones and his ripped physique, he was stunning. And dangerous, yet somewhere along the line I'd lost most of my fear of him.
"You're a killer, too, luv, or did you forget that? You know, those who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, and all that rot. Really, Kitten, why so shy on our former topic? Didn't that sodding chap who shagged you kiss you everywhere first? Don't tell me the wretch neglected foreplay."
"Not unless you count him taking his clothes off as foreplay." Goddamn Bones, and damn Danny Milton as well. Maybe one day I could look back and not feel a sting. "Can we not talk about that? It hardly puts me in the proper mood."
Something cold flashed across his face, but his voice was light. "Don't fret over him, pet. If I meet him, I'll snap him in half for you. No, we won't speak of him any longer. Ready to go back to the table now? Or do you need a few more minutes to cool off?"
There was that insinuating tone again, making simple words sound graphic.
"I'm ready. I just wasn't prepared before." I sat back at the table and slid my hands into his waiting grip. "Go on. Give it your best shot."
He grinned with a slow sexy twist of his lips and the fire leapt back into his eyes.
"Love to give it my best shot. Let me tell you just how I'd do it..."
Two hours later, my ears were burned to twin crisps, and I owed him forty miles. Bones was in high spirits. Why wouldn't he be? He had just hypothetically f**ked me into incomprehension. Tartly I asked him if he wanted a cigarette when he was finished, and he informed me with a laugh that he'd quit smoking. Heard it wasn't good for his health. God, the man amused himself with his own jokes.
I used one of the cave's small enclosed areas as a changing room to strip out of the harlot's dress and put on my jogging clothes. Bones always collected on his bets, never mind that there was now a thunderstorm out. We were going for our little tortuous run in the woods. With my hair rolled into a bun to avoid it lashing me in the face, I squeezed out from behind the rocks to find him waiting for me. He gave me a once-over, and that cocky twist returned to his lips.
