Deadline

Deadline Strange Hollow Belladonna Bordeaux (c) 2011 ISBN 978-1-59578-883-2 Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2011, Belladonna Bordeaux. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author. Manufactured in the United States of America Liquid Silver Books http://LSbooks.com Email: [email protected] Editor Chrissie Henderson Cover Artist April Martinez This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

Blurb She’s inexorably drawn to a man ninety-nine percent of people fear—Death. Niko Thanatose, a member of the death caste, is on a mission. He needs to release the soul of a mortal hiding amongst Strange Hollow’s residents. That’s going to be a neat trick considering the low mortality rate in the town. He’ll break all the rules when he meets a woman who has lived under a cloud of lies and stirs a foreign emotion in his soul. A foundling, Lyra has always been told she’s an ancient, an immortal who is so rare on Earth that her kind is almost extinct. With no powers to speak of, she’s the outcast that is accepted but not truly embraced by the people of Strange Hollow until the new undertaker shows up and rocks her world. Time is ticking. The deadline is looming. Three days to catch his target before everything around him begins to die. Lyra included.

Chapter One Your nightmare or mine? “This is so humiliating.” Niko Thanatose heard his assistant’s voice come through the radio speakers. Biting back on a smile, Niko could only imagine Morpheus’s embarrassment. The expression his stalwart friend had worn since they’d received their orders and headed for Earth was nothing short of crushed. He hadn’t stopped complaining since they’d arrived on the temporal plane. “It could be worse,” Niko commented as he drove down Strange Hollow’s Main Street. “How? You tell me how this could be worse?” The volume on the radio rose in direct proportion to Morpheus’s justifiable outrage. Niko quickly turned the knob counterclockwise but rejected the urge to shut the radio off. The last thing he needed was Morpheus getting his tailpipe in a knot, which was exactly what would happen if he didn’t give the ancient god of dreams a way to vent his rage. “You get to do what you always do, and I get to shift into a beat-up 70s Pinto station wagon. I couldn’t even be a hatchback coupe.” An exasperated sigh came from the speakers. The car backfired. “Why? Why?” Niko Thanatose understood exactly why Cain, the leader of the death caste, had chosen this specific vehicle for Morpheus to shift into. It’s the symbolism behind the model. It also helped their cover. A front that, in Niko’s opinion, was so blasé it was pathetic. “You know why, so you might as well suck it up and cope.” “Ah, yes, the mission. This is a time when I have to take one for the team and all that mortal, make-your-balls-tingle bullshit.” “Morpheus,” Niko warned. If you think I’m all that thrilled about hunting down a wayward soul, then you have another think coming. The car bucked as if it was about to stall. “Don’t push our luck any further than you already have.” Down-shifting the manual transmission to second, Niko gritted his teeth when the nerve jangling grr-rr of gears mashing together came from the transmission. “We have a job to do.” And only three days to do it in, Niko mused. If he didn’t complete his mission in seventy-two hours the pall of death would fall over him and begin killing things off around him. “I know, Death. You have a date with Leslie Carney. What makes you think he’s still in this backwater town? He’s managed to stay ahead of the other visages who’ve tried to visit him.” Recalling the brief history he’d pulled from Ascension’s Central Computer about the town nestled in a valley below Mt. Mitchell, Niko sighed. “This is the one place I’d run to if I knew Death was hot on my heels.” “Because a visage of death stands out like a sore thumb here.” “Exactly. Can you imagine how many people actually die in this town?” The superlow mortality rate, as verified by the Central Computer, was a direct contradiction to the help-wanted advertisement Niko had located in the local paper. He snuck a peek at the paper sitting innocently on the seat beside him. Circled in red magic marker was a call for a mortician to service the dearly departed—or not—souls in Strange Hollow.

“Not many, I suspect,” Morpheus muttered. “Get ready. It’s just about showtime.” Following Main Street to where it dead-ended at the Town Hall, Niko took in the woman standing on the steps. The founder turned mayor and lawmaker of the town, Jacinda Fergus. Glancing at his watch, Niko exhaled sharply. He was fifteen minutes late thanks to Morpheus’s antics. “This is going to be the tough part.” “Worried your elitist nature will show through?” Morpheus said, sarcasm dripping from his words. “Shut up.” In a sick and sad way Niko didn’t blame Jacinda Fergus for establishing the town or welcoming all the half-castes and oddities of the paranormal world to live in Strange Hollow. In this town outcasts were welcome, elitists eaten on sight. Taking in the number of shops, Niko came to the obvious conclusion that there was safety in numbers too. He mentally reviewed the Central Computer’s report. So, Morpheus and he had to portray themselves as outcasts. One who could only shift from his mortal form into the Gremlin station wagon, and the other, his lover, who was a vegan vampire. Another crack akin to a shot from a gun rocked the car. “I don’t like this either, Morpheus, but cool it with all the noise. We don’t want to pull too much attention to us.” “I can’t help it. My carburetor needs adjustment.” The radio suddenly clicked onto a real station. The strains of My Sharona shouted in the confines of the car. Niko growled when he noted all the people coming out of their shops to stare at his conveyance. “Morpheus, cease your nonsense.” “I’m sucking it up, taking one for the team, making you look more paranormal than you are. Would you prefer a different station? I’m sure I could find a country and western one if that is more to your liking. You know the likes, where she took your truck, your dog and your booze after shacking up with your best bud.” A squawking of static blasted around him as Morpheus searched for the channel in question. With a vicious twist of his wrist, Niko turned the radio off completely. “Be good while I have my little chit-chat with the mayor.” Morpheus’s response was to stall in the middle of the street. Niko steered the drifting car to the side of the square. Niko shook his head when he managed to maneuver the car out of the path of traffic and somewhat into a parking spot. “If I could kill you, I would.” He gripped the emergency hand brake, and with a vicious tug he raised the lever. The twang of the brake cable snapping hit his ears. “Just let me get this over with, and then I’ll find you a nice garage where you can shift into your preferred form. Okay?” Niko grabbed the newspaper and his resume from the passenger seat. He went to open his door only to have the handle break off in his grip. A low, menacing growl inched up his throat. The blaring of the horn drew a bitter sigh from Niko. “I’ll even try to find you some ambrosia.” The obnoxious, eardrum-splitting blast started coming in short bursts. “I will find you some ambrosia.” The horn stopped. Slapping the handle back into place, it took Niko a few minutes to extricate himself via the passenger’s side door. By the time his feet hit the pavement he was huffing and puffing. “Sorry about that.” He nodded to the woman he assumed was Jacinda. “I called this morning about the open position you have for a mortician.” Snickers and jeers came from the crowd. Ignoring the gawkers, Niko handed his resume

to Jacinda. “You have an interesting car, Mr.—” She skimmed the top of his resume. “Thorton,” she finished. Her violet gaze rose to his face. She made a quick visual inspection of him before she returned her focus to the printed sheets in her hand. “Some would call him a classic, Ms. Fergus,” Niko managed to say with only a hint of humor tingeing his statement. About three-thousand-years worth of classic, he mused. “You do understand you’ll be expected to care for all your clients with the same respect.” Jacinda peeked at him through the veil of her lashes. She began to shuffle through the three pages. “Discretion is also imperative in this position.” “Yes, ma’am, I understand the need for, how shall I put this, secrecy.” Which still didn’t explain why, all of a sudden, Strange Hollow needed an undertaker. Not that Niko was going to let the golden opportunity slip through his fingers. “Unfortunately, you don’t have the required experience for the position,” Jacinda said after a lengthy pause. She handed the resume back to him. “We were looking for a candidate who had experience with a very specific clientele.” By the fires of Hell. “That is but a brief summary of my experience, Ms. Fergus.” Walking to the back of the Gremlin, Niko opened the hatchback. He pulled out a fivehundred-page resume and set it on the rust-stained roof of the car. Morpheus groaned as his rear shock absorbers creaked. “Let’s try this again,” Niko said, resisting the urge to kick Morpheus in his tires. He strode back to where the very pear-shaped woman stood. Flipping open the binder he’d had his admin assistant put together just in case this should happen, he read the table of contents. “Werewolves, check. Vampires, check. Halflings, check. Fae, check—they require special care though.” He sent her a smile. “Witches, check. Dragons, check—big funeral pyre involved with them.” “I doubt that even in your vast experience you’ve ever come across this, Mr. Thorton.” “Try me.” “A longstanding member of our community has decided to diminish.” Diminish? There were several of the ancient sects who could choose to finish their long existence by personal decree. He leveled his glare on Jacinda’s face. The short hairs on the back of his neck flared at her sad countenance. “A druid?” He picked the first type on the short list. “A wood nymph.” Stunned, Niko’s frown deepened into a scowl. “I thought they were extinct.” In fact, I know they are. With a sweeping slash of his eyes, Niko watched the crowd grow somber. Strange Hollow, he considered her revelation, the town where outcasts were welcome. A half-caste? Possible. “She’s the last of her kind.” Jacinda drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Are you experienced with them?” “Somewhat.” Niko couldn’t wrap his brain around this twist. The last time he’d visited a wood nymph had been eons ago during Ragnarok, the Twilight of the Gods. Back in those days his duty involved escorting the defeated god or goddess, immortal or enchanted demi-god, to the portal that took them into the nothingness of the Abyss. There, with a few tears and some dashed hopes, the immortals now called the ancients would jump into the swirling chasm never to be seen again. “She wishes a mortal funeral?”

“Or as close as we can come to a proper wake and internment.” “I see.” The hell I do. “That shouldn’t be too difficult.” A funeral was a funeral. Embalming followed by a viewing, then put the casket in the ground—done deal. “There is only one problem.” “What’s that?” “She doesn’t remember begging the god to let her die.” “Excuse me?” Oh, this is too incredible. It was also implausible. An original didn’t beg the White God for relief from their immortal existence. Not even a half-blooded one would do that. Niko fisted his hand. No. They headed for the first ethereal gate on Earth and took a short trip to the third level of the heavens where they were then escorted to the portal. This doesn’t add up. Niko caught himself before he asked the question burning like a bonfire in his brain: Are you sure she’s a wood nymph? He narrowed his eyes on Jacinda. You’re not telling me something. “Fine. I’ll set up a proper funeral for your wood nymph.” He slammed the binder down on the hood. For a change, Morpheus didn’t make a sound. “Do you have a name?” He plucked his pen from the breast pocket of his button-down shirt. “I’m sorry, I have to run. Thank you, Mr. Thorton. I’m sure you’ll do a good job.” Jacinda dashed up the Town Hall steps. “Just remember the laws. Murder is punishable by death. Rape is punishable by death. Outcasts are welcome. Elitists will be eaten on sight.” She waved to him when she reached the doors. “This is not considered murder, but natural selection.” Niko’s eyes shot from onlooker to onlooker. I’m here to collect the soul of Leslie Carney. Period. End of sentence. He watched a werewolf bare his teeth at him. So, in the meantime I plan a final affair for a creature that died off two thousand years ago. “Those are some mighty expensive duds you’re wearing.” A vampiress sneered. She moved through the shadows like a cat stalking a mouse. “Are you sure you aren’t an elitist?” She sent him a wicked grin. “I believe you are.” Actually, I’m an ultimate authority. “Bite me,” Niko retorted hotly. Gathering his resumes, the newspaper, and putting his pen back in his pocket, he jerked the car’s door open. “That can be arranged,” the vampiress said. “In your nightmares,” Niko countered and slid into the driver’s seat. He twisted the key in the ignition and sent thanks to the gods of old when Morpheus’s engine started without complaint. About to back out of the spot, Niko came to the sudden realization he hadn’t gotten the address for the funeral parlor. “Damn it.” He turned on the radio. “Morpheus, locate the town’s funeral parlor.” He gripped the steering wheel hard with his left hand as he shifted the car into reverse with his right. Pulling away from the curb, he caught a glimpse of people huddled together with their heads bent. “Be quick about it.” “Sure thing. You do have a tight deadline this go ’round.” Morpheus didn’t sound the least bit concerned about that. “112th and Omega.” “Thank the gods of old for GPS.” “And the Central Computer for foreseeing this tangle. Jacinda is, after all, a fae. They’re known for scurrying away at the most inopportune moment.” “Point taken.” Niko steered onto 1st Street. “Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

“About?” “The wood nymph.” Niko followed 1st Street until he came to Omega. “Which way?” “North,” Morpheus informed him. “So, this whole deal with the wood nymph doesn’t spark your interest?” “Absolutely not.” Pulling to a stop at the intersection, Niko flipped on the indicator. He rolled his eyes when the thin metal rod fell to the floor. “She’s not on our list.” “Still, she’s…” “None of our concern.” Niko ended the discussion by turning the radio off. **** Lyra putzed around the funeral home, her feather duster in hand. Whistling an offtune, no-rhyme-or-reason, little ditty, she contemplated what having a new mortician meant to Spimoni’s Funeral Parlor and Crematorium. Her last boss, Mr. Alistair Farnsworth III, was just one in a long string of funeral directors who had come to Strange Hollow only to be run out of town within a month. She understood why the town’s folk had a problem with an outcast mortician. It took a lot of PR work to handle final arrangements for a werewolf or a vampire and manage not to come across as a snob or highbrow. She figured that it was just how the men who dealt with grieving families and embalming bodies on a day-to-day basis were wired. In Strange Hollow the stringent regulations for taking care of bodily fluids and the bodies themselves couldn’t help with the perception that the man in charge of Spimoni’s was a cut above the rest of the town’s residents. “What did Jacinda say he was again?” Vigor, the mortician’s assistant, asked as he popped his head through the wall. Used to the ghoul who had the uncanny ability to startle people because he popped in whenever the mood struck him, Lyra flicked the feather duster over an onyx-encrusted urn. “A vegan vampire is what I heard,” Lyra responded. “It should be interesting having him work over a client. A vampire whose stomach churns and turns at the sight of blood?” She shook her head. The riot of blonde curls she’d fixed into a loose ponytail danced around her shoulders. “You mean entertaining.” “You promised you wouldn’t laugh at him.” She pointed at him. “I have a feeling Mr. Thorton will be different.” Vigor sighed. “That’s what you said about Farnsworth and Jakes too.” The ghoul’s wispy shadow shot across the wall. “Don’t worry, Vigor, this one will be different.” He poked his head out of the brass urn. His grizzled face turned a sickening shade of yellow as he pulled back. “Yeah. Right, and I’m the King of the Ghouls and you are Queen of the Forest.” Lyra’s tinkling laughter filled the salesroom. “I bow to you, your highness.” “Lyra, this isn’t funny. Ever since old man Spimoni caught the deadly part of a silver bullet in the heart, we haven’t had a steady undertaker to take care of our dead.” Vigor rose from the floor to loom over her. He brushed his ice-cold hand across her hair. Her mirth disintegrated. “That was before I moved here.” A flash in the pan vision jolted across her mind’s eye. She was lost in the woods. Alone. Frightened. Nearly

paralyzed by a specter she couldn’t and didn’t want to put a face or name to. A shiver raced the length of her spine. Those were the vague memories of the past that had haunted her for almost two decades. They were a lot like her ghoulish coworker—fleeting—terrifying—almost tangible but not quite solid enough for her to hold onto. “Let’s just hope this one doesn’t get too uppity.” “I won’t.” A new voice entered their conversation. “Oh, my.” Startled, Lyra spun around. The duster fell from her fingers to land with a soft thud on the hardwood floor. She gaped at the man standing in the doorway. Holy macaroni. “Handsome” didn’t do him justice. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, and she licked her suddenly dry lips. He was stunning from the top of his raven-haired head to his strong chiseled features. Unable to stop herself, she let her gaze drink in all of him. His broad shoulders. His narrow hips. His strong legs. She gulped. If she had to pick out his best feature, she’d say it was his piercing black eyes. “Mr. Thorton, I presume.” “Yes, Miss?” “Lyra.” “Miss Lyra.” Good Lord have mercy on me. He’s got the sexiest voice this side of the freaky paranormal world. “No,” she answered on a strangled giggle, trying without much success to gather her wits about her. Not an easy feat when her body was going haywire with a foreign emotion. Her nipples hardened to tight buds and a tingle took root low in her belly. Talk about instant attraction. “It’s just Lyra, no middle initial and no last name. This here is my friend and coworker, Vigor.” She moved to wave at Vigor but he’d already disappeared. “Don’t worry about Vigor. He pops in and out. Eventually you’ll meet him.” “I see.” He didn’t appear humored or remotely interested in the resident ghoul haunting Spimoni’s. If Mr. Thorton’s expression was any indication, her new boss was pissed. His gaze was glued to her face. A blush crept up her cheeks when he crossed his arms over his chest and inspected her from the top of her head to the tips of her worn sneakers. She guessed it wasn’t anything less than she deserved since she’d spent at least a minute or two gawking at him when he’d first entered. Her stare followed his fingers as they raked furrows through his thick hair. Her hand positively tingled to touch his hair, his body, his… Get it together. “Well, you might not actually see him, but you will feel his presence. He’s notorious for flying through people if the mood strikes him.” “I take it you work for me.” He stood his ground but a muscle ticked in his jaw. What’s got your panties in a wad? “Yes. I keep the parlor clean and am the cosmetologist to the recently departed.” Even angry, the man was hot. She wasn’t sure if that was what made him so desirable or if it was the flashing sparkle in his eyes. Either way, she was hooked. Lust, pure and powerful, rolled through her system. “Come here, Lyra.” She’d have loved to say she wasn’t enticed to obey him. Vampire. The word shouted in her head. “Are you using your paranormal powers on me?” For the first time since she’d been brought to Strange Hollow, she could only hope she was the victim of a psychic attack. Part of her, the inner sex kitten she’d tucked away because she was so different from all the other paranormals in the sleepy town, wanted to come out and play.

“No,” he answered her plainly. A scowl marred his brow. “You have a poltergeist hanging around your shoulders. I’m trying to determine its intentions.” “I do?” Great, now I’m acting like an absolute idiot. “Wait, did you say poltergeist?” Goosebumps rose on her arms. Her throat grew tight. “Are you sure?” she whispered. Having worked for years at Spimoni’s, she’d only heard rumors of the poltergeist said to haunt the place. “Uh-huh.” “Maybe you’re mistaken.” The whole statement was thrown out the window when one of the urns rattled on the shelf before it flew off its perch to crash into the wall opposite the display. “Come here, Lyra.” He held his hand out to her. She didn’t need to be told thrice. Rushing across the room, she didn’t have to ponder about what to do next. He thrust her behind his back. She clutched his shirt and laid her head against his strong, shirt-clad frame. His steady breaths did nothing to assuage her fears about being caught in a poltergeist rant. “You have a great sixth sense.” A chuckle rumbled in his chest. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” Beneath her fingers she could feel his muscles tense. She stood there for what seemed like hours but she knew was only a few minutes. “What are you waiting for?” “You to let go of me.” “Oh.” She released her death grip on his shirt and stepped away. “Vigor, protect her.” His command cracked through the room like the resounding snap of a whip. “Yes,” the slithering, sliding dialect of the ghoul whispered up from the floor. The chill coming off the spectral being surrounded her. Shivers racked her body. “Thanatose,” Vigor whispered. The swirling mist of his paranormal form blocked out the view of the salesroom. Lyra tried to fight her way free but she couldn’t break through the thick veil shrouding her form. “Death.” “What are you blathering about?” Lyra demanded. She clawed at the fog. “Let me out.” “Death,” Vigor informed her. ”Death has come to Strange Hollow.” Terror strangled Lyra’s soul. “You mean Death, as in Death himself?” Her teeth started to chatter. “The Grim Reaper? Dance Macabre? Bones and scythe?” “Secret. A secret we must keep.” Vigor eased off so she could watch their new boss fighting the poltergeist. “Why? Why do we have to keep it secret?” Her heart clanged in her chest and darkness crept into her peripheral vision. Her empty stomach heaved. A cold sweat broke out on her brow when she saw Mr. Thorton battling the poltergeist. He had his hands around the evil ghost’s throat. Urns, bits of paper and two satin-covered pillows from the display caskets swirled around him as he brought the evil specter to its knees. She shook her head when his countenance shifted between a skeleton and the handsome man she’d found attractive just a few moments ago. She was either going to throw up or pass out. “Tell me. Why do we need to keep it a secret?” For the life of her, she couldn’t grasp what was happening. A memory of another fight rose in her mind’s eye. She was young in the recollection and struggling to break free of someone or something. Icy black eyes that had bored into hers. Horns. A chilling darkness that wanted to engulf her, suck the life from her. Terror. Bile rose in her throat.

She touched the frigid ether around her, searching for an anchor to hold her securely in reality. “Tell me, goddamn it.” “He is hunting.” Opening her mouth to ask “who this visage was after,” Lyra passed out before she could utter a syllable. The last thing she thought before her body crashed to the floor was, her worst nightmare stood before her and he was her boss. **** “She’s terrified of you,” Morpheus said. He paced back and forth in front of the windows in Lyra’s room situated above the funeral home. “Can you blame her?” Niko brushed a wayward curl from her brow. Tilting his gaze to Morpheus who had transformed into his human form when Vigor raced to the garage and informed the god of sleep that Thanatose needed help, Niko sighed. This isn’t just a royal mess; it’s a damnable cluster-fuck. “She’s met another member of the death caste. A visage of the ultimate moment when life ends that took her parents and her youth from her. The change in Lyra, at least her outlook on life, occurred all in a single swipe of a hand.” Niko stared at her face. He’d felt the unnatural pall she carried the instant he’d met her, but hadn’t had time to really consider who she’d come into contact with. When the poltergeist appeared he’d done what any other member of his sect would have. He beat the dangerous spirit back to the black hole from whence they came. “She’s been touched.” “That’s not allowed. If you or any member of the death caste touches a mortal they have to follow through. Out-of-body experiences aren’t just frowned upon, they’re grounds for incarceration in the Tartarus.” Morpheus jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “We’re held to some of the most stringent rules in all of the Third Level.” Thinking back over his long existence as a member of the death caste, Niko shrugged. “Mistakes happen. Not often, but sometimes a mortal slides through the cracks.” He took in her pale complexion and the way she fussed against the already mussed bed covers. It was almost as if she was still fighting to get away from the darkness that came from meeting one of his kind. “Shh, Lyra,” he whispered when she moaned in her sleep. He took another pinch of the powerful sleep sand from the bag he’d set on her nightstand and sprinkled the golden dust on her forehead. In his heart he wanted to bring her relief. His conscience told him not to. There’s not a damn thing I can do about it other than finish what my contemporary started. “Do you think that’s going to help her? Sleep sand? All the sleep in the world won’t soothe her soul.” Morpheus appeared ready to put his fist through the wall. Niko sympathized with him. This was so unfair on so many levels. It was also why the death caste was held to high standards. To meet one of the few members of their elite club and walk away was like walking into a never ending nightmare. Thoughts of death were never far from the victim’s mind. “You know what you have to do. What you are required to do, Death.” Niko’s response was instantaneous and full of conviction. “I won’t do it.” Exactly why he was having such a problem with lifting her soul from her body was beyond him. There was just something about Lyra he was attracted to. An aspect of her aura that enticed him to be the god he’d once been. The ultimate authority in life and death. The

ruler of the dark lands. The visage who rode the mighty gray Pegasus named Morpheus. “Do you hear me? I will not take her soul.” “It’s your duty.” Morpheus sat on the other side of the bed. “My duty be damned.” He raked his hand through his hair. Recognizing how unreasonable he was being, Niko brushed the back of his knuckles down Lyra’s cheek. He closed his eyes to the truth. Whatever his common sense or heart or soul might want him to do meant diddly when it came down to being a member of the death caste. He couldn’t reject his duty, and he wouldn’t allow another member of his sect to see the task completed. “If by the time we capture Leslie Carney she’s still suffering, I’ll reconsider.” There’s no reconsidering involved. I will release her from her mortal life. A resigned sigh whispered across Morpheus’s parted lips. “Fine.” Morpheus pointed an accusing finger at him. “Don’t take that to mean I agree with you. Granted, she didn’t deserve this, but the facts are the facts.” “I’m aware.” Niko toed off his shoes and reclined next to Lyra. He stared at the ceiling. The joy he experienced when she curled her body around his brought back an emotion he’d thought long gone from his life. A feeling he’d not experienced since the tragedy that was Ragnarok, and he’d watched so many of his friends walk into the Abyss. He’d watched his wife leave the Third Level for the Eternal Plane. A jolt of emotion rocked through him. He actually cared about Lyra. Not the same way he cared about Morpheus. They were tied to each other ethereally. This wasn’t even the way he had cared about his wife. She’d had no choice in marrying him. They were matched and married through old god law. Lyra was different. Very different. She was also soft in all the right places. By the White God. I’m lusting for her. “Are you going to just sit there?” He peeked at Morpheus through the veil of his lashes. Morpheus snorted with derision. He shook his head as if to say, you’ve lost your mind, my friend. “This isn’t going to work for long, Thanatose.” An apology clung to his statement. “Eventually, you are going to have to face that she’s gotta become a client of yours.” “I know.” Hoping that if she was trapped between the bliss of sleep and the calmness of death she’d relax if only for a little while, Niko closed his eyes when Morpheus laid down on her other side. For the first time in a long while he prayed for a miracle. Heavenly White God and the gods of old, those who saved me from the Abyss, help me… “We’re running out of time,” Morpheus muttered. The omnipresent weight of his primary mission weighed heavily on Niko. He gritted his teeth. “We’ll find Leslie Carney.” He reached over and turned out the light. Help me … please.

Chapter Two You are validating my inherent mistrust of strangers. Lyra didn’t know what had hit her. One moment she was sound asleep, the next she was crazy with desire for Mr. Thorton. Her crotch throbbed for his cock. Her nipples tightened to hard buds. She panted against the wild, lurid image she’d just dreamed. With her heart beating like a freight train in her chest, she sucked in a lungful of air. The dream wouldn’t let go of her. She bit her lip to keep from screaming. In her fantasy she’d been so close to an orgasm her body still hummed from her brush with a climax. Shaking her head, she blinked several times but her eyelids refused to open. The dream rolled through her brain. Mr. Thorton fucking her hard. His thumb flicking over her clit as he slammed his cock to the hilt in her channel. Jiminy frog singing crickets. A gasp broke from her throat. Shivering with unrequited lust and the need to come, she turned over and hugged the pillow he’d laid his head on to her chest. The enticing scent of his cologne tickled her nose. Her channel tightened. She squeezed her thighs together. “Please.” The word was ripped from her soul. Tiny tremors twitched through her. “I need this.” Her vagina clenched. Twinges shot from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Then… Then… The dream faded away to nothingness. “No!” Sitting bolt upright in the bed, she blew out a shaky breath. She glanced around her empty room. Insane. I’m fricken’ insane. With a shaking hand, she pushed her hair from her face. “He’s my boss.” Yeah. Yeah. And that makes not a bit of difference. “He’s Death.” Sickeningly, his position or whatever he was in the schematic of life meant nadda to her. There was something about Mr. Thorton. It was a calmness that he exuded. A casualness she’d glimpsed yesterday, which combined with his totally alpha maleness to turn her world upside down. Gentleness she vaguely recalled when he held her while she slept. Sliding out of bed, she nibbled on her lower lip. “I should be afraid of him.” Truthfully, she should be totally terrified of him. She wasn’t. Recollections of him fighting the poltergeist rose in her mind’s eye. In those brief moments, she’d been frightened, but it wasn’t of Mr. Thorton. It was the “thing” that had haunted her nightmares for as long as she could remember. “What is wrong with me?” She padded to the bathroom. Her body trembled with desire, and her mind caught in a cacophony of opposing thoughts. “I shouldn’t want him.” “Shouldn’t want who?” His voice echoed in her room. Startled out of her wits, Lyra spun around. Laying her hand on her chest, she backstepped her way to her bathroom door. She opened her mouth to tell him it was none of his damn business but thought better of angering Mr. Thorton. “Nobody,” she croaked. His piercing black eyes drilled into hers, and she imagined he was inspecting her

soul. He was searching for an answer she couldn’t give him because she didn’t know the question. “I was going to take a shower.” “I’ll join you.” “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mr. Thorton,” she muttered. Sparks of static electricity jolted down her nerve endings in a synaptic shot. A small whimper escaped her lips when he strode to where she leaned against the door. Her breath hitched in her chest. The dream was hot. The man encroaching on her personal space was drop-dead sexy. “Niko,” he told her. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand,” any of this, she finished silently. “My name is Niko.” He brushed a lock of hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “Niko Thanatose.” “I’m supposed to keep that secret.” Her heart crashed in her chest when he dipped his head. “You’re hunting.” Not that she understood what that meant. Hunting? Hunting for what? He kissed her. His firm lips moved over hers in a tender way that had her clinging to his broad shoulders. Ripping her mouth away from his, she gasped for air as he wrapped his strong arms around her shivering body. “We shouldn’t.” I can’t. “Yes, we should,” he told her softly yet forcefully. “Let me help you.” He snapped his fingers, and her clothes disappeared. “Mr. Thorton…” “Niko.” His hands felt so good on her naked flesh. She melted against his strength. An inherent desire to get closer to him reared its ugly head. A spurt of fear sliced her heart. Her first gut instinct was to tell him to buzz off—to go back to wherever it was that he came from—to leave her to her lonely existence. To make him understand that nobody, not even the outcasts of Strange Hollow, desired her because she wasn’t even close to anything in the town. She wasn’t actually an outcast. She was the weirdest of the weird. A powerless being who served no purpose in the town except that of making a corpse look really good for a viewing. A tear rolled down her cheek. She was, in reality and effectively, zip, zilch and nadda rolled into one. A sob caught in her throat. She buried her head against his chest, wanting to hide from the truth. Daily, she met people who could do something paranormal even if they didn’t drink blood and they should have, or turn into a werewolf not on the full moon but on a moonless night. What could she do? Nothing. Her fingers clutched the soft material of his shirt. “Give it up to me.” “What?” “Whatever it is that is hurting you.” Bits of the dream tumbled back to the fore and mocked her low self-esteem. In the dream she didn’t feel useless. She felt cherished. Loved. And most importantly, desirable. “Look at me, Lyra,” he ordered her in a “no-nonsense allowed” tone. He snapped his fingers again and his clothes disappeared. His erection pressed against her belly and did unusual things to her blood pressure. She peeked up at him. Moisture gathered in her sex and the throb she’d suffered since waking returned tenfold. “Yes, Niko?”

“I can’t help you if you don’t trust me.” He cupped her cheek in his huge hand. “I trust you.” Exactly why, I haven’t a clue. She rose up on her tiptoes when he lowered his head. This time his kiss was demanding, drawing out the inner vixen she’d hidden from the male population of Strange Hollow. On a gasp, he slid his tongue between her lips. Hers met his and dueled. He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed. Laying her in the middle of the mattress, he knelt beside her. He stroked her heated skin. “Please,” she whispered. Levering herself up on a straight arm, she curled her other around his shoulders. Warmth radiated from his frame. “Please.” A thoroughly masculine smile stroked across his face. “Please?” Her heart lodged in her throat. “What ifs” by the droves shot through her. She blushed. Unable to be so crass as to ask him to fuck the living daylights out of her, she planted her gaze on a scar marring his tanned chest. “Make love to me.” She tangled her fingers in his hair. Pulling him to her, she kissed his cheek. “I want you to make love to me,” she whispered against the shell of his ear. He leaned back and stared at her. “You have to be certain. Once we start, there is no turning back,” he said gravely. “I’m certain.” She nodded on an audible gulp. Letting the dream unfold, she reclined against the pillows. He followed her down. His lips took hers once more in a passionate kiss that curled her toes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Please. Please. Please. Tangling her fingers in his thick hair, she gasped when he raked his teeth down the side of her neck. “My. Oh my.” He palmed her left breast. His thumb and forefinger pinched her already hard nipple. A tiny shot of pain traced down to her channel. She wriggled her hips. Restlessly moving against his strong body, she rubbed her foot up and down his calf. The tingling in her pussy grew until she thought she might shatter if he didn’t finish the act. “Are you wet for me?” His fingers stroked over her belly to the thatch of curls at the juncture of her thighs. She jerked when he slid his fingers across her slick folds. “You’re going to like this,” he rasped against her ear. “Don’t stop.” Mewls of pleasure broke from her lips. His fingers did amazing things to her body. He swirled his finger over her clit. The sensation drove her need higher. She arched her back when he inserted a finger into her channel, then another. He began to pump her. His thumb flicked against her clit. “Give it to me,” he commanded. Closing her eyes to the glorious feeling he wrung from her, she squealed when he removed his fingers from her aching pussy. “No.” “Look at me, Lyra.” He adjusted his position, easing her thighs apart with one of his own. Nestling his cock at the entrance to her pussy, he blew out a breath. “Look at me,” he demanded. Forcing her eyes open, she gazed at the strong planes of his face. In his stern expression she found a semblance of solace she never knew existed. He accepted her. Not because she was an outcast amongst outcasts but because of something else. She wanted to believe he desired her. “Yes.” Without warning he plunged into her and stilled. She cried out in surprise. It certainly isn’t like in the romance novels where the woman cries, “no more” and “you’re hurting me.” The sharp stab of pain was soon

forgotten. In its place was the all too familiar warmth. Gripping his arms, she kept her gaze planted on his face. Slowly, methodically, he began to move. Ecstasy built inside her. The tremors of her climax grew. He reached down between their joined bodies and stroked her clit. “Oh my.” Friction combined with the feel of his finger on her sensitive nub. “My god.” “Yes,” he rasped. His breaths wafted her hair. He started to thrust harder, faster. Her world tipped upside down. “Let it go. Give it up to me.” She screamed his name. “Niko!” Rhythmic contractions shot from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Her nails dug into his shoulder blades. “God, yes.” His hot seed filled her. Riding the wave of bliss in his arms was more than she could imagine. “Thank you,” she rasped when he rolled over, taking her with him. Still intimately joined, her heart beat as if she’d just run a marathon. Laying her head on his chest, she listened to the rapid tattoo of his heart. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” He ran his hands up and down her back. Leaning up, she kissed his chin. “That was wonderful.” She waited for him to say something about her chastity. When he didn’t, she wondered if men couldn’t tell. He stroked a few wisps of hair from her face. “Be happy while you are living, Lyra.” She thought he wanted to say more. A cold chill raced up her spine. Just a draft. Kissing him softly on the lips, she gasped when he eased her off him and tucked her against his side. “I am happy.” She rested her head on his shoulder. She traced another scar with her fingernail. “Really, really happy.” **** “Where the hell have you been?” Morpheus shouted. “I could ask you the same thing,” Niko answered. Irritated with himself for letting Lyra get under his skin, he’d spent the rest of the morning and a good portion of the afternoon ensconced in the funeral director’s office reviewing the list of clients he needed to attend to. He was trying to avoid the facts that he’d not only bedded a mortal but a virgin, to boot. “You need to double check your sleep sand. Lyra got a dose of the wild stuff last night.” “Are you questioning my ability to perform my duty?” Morpheus appeared ready to spout flames. “No.” Niko shook his head. He turned the page of his list and familiarized himself with the next group of clients. “That’s it? No?” Morpheus slapped the wall. “You don’t throw down an accusation like that, then simply go back to work.” Sighing, Niko leaned back in his chair to stare at his assistant. “Lyra had a vivid dream this morning. Because of the fantasy’s sexual nature I believe the sack of dream dust you are using is mildly contaminated.” Shrugging, Niko crossed his arms over his chest when Morpheus gaped at him. “It happens every so often, so don’t get bent out of shape.” Morpheus narrowed his eyes on Niko. “You didn’t.” He threw his arms up in exasperation when Niko didn’t reply. “You did. You took the wench to bed.” Turning in a slow circle, he looked at everything except his boss. “You broke the law, Thanatose.” There wasn’t any use in lying. The long-reaching gaze of the Central Computer

chronicled every move of every being on Earth, including those visiting from the Third Level. His tryst with Lyra was most certainly gossip fodder in Ascension at the moment. “I’m aware I violated section three.” Violated? I threw the damn rule book out the window. “Cain will have your head. He’ll call you to The Tomb and personally escort you to the onyx gates of the Abyss.” Morpheus was so mad he was red-faced and shaking. “What were you thinking?” That’s the problem. I’m not using my common sense where Lyra is concerned. “I was trying to bring relief to her. To right the wrong we caused by dosing her with contaminated sleep sand. That is not against the law.” The excuse was just as lame on Earth as it would be when Cain called him to The Tomb. “You were upstairs screwing her when you were supposed to be out hunting down Carney.” Morpheus seemed to get stuck on that point. He muttered under his breath about wayward members of the death caste. “We only have two days left, and we’re no closer to finding Carney than we were when we entered this backwater town.” “Don’t you think I know that?” Niko stood. He slammed his hand down on the desktop. “Don’t you think I know when the deadline is?” Furious, he bowed beneath the weight of duty and a deep-seated need for Lyra. The two gods stared each other down. Waiting. Measuring the other. “Did you happen to ask Lyra if she knew Carney?” Morpheus sneered sarcastically. “Oh, that’s right; you didn’t because you were too busy getting your rocks off … with that … that…” “Don’t say it,” Niko warned. Several slurs Morpheus could call Lyra echoed in his mind. Whore. Slut. Worst of all—mortal. The iron-willed control he had on his temper slipped when Morpheus snorted with disdain. “Don’t you dare.” He punched his finger in the air. Niko watched Morpheus pull a file out of thin air and flip open the front cover. “What the hell are you doing now?” Anger broiled through his veins like lava from Mt. Vesuvius. “A little checking up on your sex kitten.” “Morpheus, you are pushing your luck.” “Thanatose, you’ve already stepped over the line.” Morpheus skimmed the personal file for Lyra. “Let’s see if we can get your ass out of the sling you’ve put it in. Best case scenario, you’ll only have to spend a decade in Hell for fucking—” Niko’s growl stopped Morpheus from finishing his sentence. He scowled when Morpheus frowned. Curious, Niko resisted the urge to grab the file from his assistant’s hand. “Are you going to tell me or do you want me to play twenty questions with you?” “She’s a mortal.” “We already knew that.” Niko forced himself to sit. “So are all the other residents of Strange Hollow.” Whether the good townsfolk wanted to believe it or not, they all had limited life spans. “No. I mean she’s a true mortal. She doesn’t possess a single strand of paranormal DNA.” Niko almost told his friend that the file was flawed. Since when does the Central Computer make a mistake? The answer was it never did. “What’s a mortal doing here then?” Why isn’t she out in the real world living a real life? “It appears from the chronicle that when Laura Higgins was three years old she lost

her parents in a car accident. Stunned, she wandered away from the scene and was found by Mayor Fergus in the woods to the north of here. Mayor Fergus put two and two together and came up with twenty-two instead of four.” “How so?” “Mayor Fergus decided Laura was a nymph.” “Probably because of her age. Though by ancient standards she’d have been a very young nymph.” And a delectable treat for a Minotaur to gnaw on after he’d fattened her up. “Any information on which of the death caste touched her?” “Cernunos.” Morpheus closed the folder and brought it to Niko. “He released her parents’ souls.” A member of the death caste who was above reproach. Massaging his forehead with the tips of his fingers, Niko sighed. The realization of who had been called to relieve the Higgins’ suffering brought Niko to a disgusting conclusion. “Lyra was supposed to die in the accident too,” he whispered. She doesn’t remember begging God to release her from her life. The puzzle that was in his interview with Mayor Fergus suddenly came together. A clog of emotion gathered in Niko’s throat. He recalled Lyra’s expressive face when she climaxed. Her perfect features blissful, peaceful—lovely. As if he needed to punish himself more, he remembered the way she’d clung to his shoulders and how she’d kissed him afterward. Not since before Ragnarok had he had such a woman in his arms. She wasn’t like the spoiled and prissy goddesses in the Third Level who hopped from bed to bed because they were bored with the limited number of partners in Ascension. Lyra was real. So real, a big part of him wanted her to live forever. “She’s well past her expiration date.” “I’m afraid so.” Morpheus set the folder on the corner of the desk. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, Thanatose. I know this can’t be easy for you.” “Thank you, Morpheus.” Absently, Niko picked up the file and opened the cover. He stared sightlessly at the printed pages. Refocusing his mind, he read down until he came to the area where Lyra’s fate should have been entered. To be determined. “We’ll begin our hunt for Leslie Carney in earnest tonight after I release Lyra—” He couldn’t go on. For the first time since the Common Era had begun, tears stung his eyes and heaviness shrouded his heart. Gritting his teeth together, he closed his eyes. Say it. You don’t have a choice now. “After I release Lyra from her pain.” He nearly choked on the words. “Take some time. We’ve got two days before the deadline.” Morpheus headed for the door. “Between you and me we could show her the world. Get her out of Strange Hollow for a little while.” Opening his eyes, Niko nodded. Forty-eight hours to bring joy and happiness to a woman who’s only ever known a life that is a lie. “Let’s keep this under our hats. I don’t want Lyra becoming afraid of me.” “No problem.” Morpheus placed his hand on the doorknob. “What about Carney?” “I haven’t forgotten the mission.” And Niko had a fairly good idea of where Leslie Carney was hiding. More to the point, he knew who was protecting their reluctant client. Jacinda Fergus. He wasn’t sure why, but his gut instinct, the same inherent self-preservation impulse which had saved him during the bloody battles of Ragnarok, said so. He closed the folder

and piled his list on top of it before tossing them in the air. They disappeared, magically transported back to the Third Realm. Standing, he gathered his cloak and gloves. “I’m going to visit the honorable mayor of Strange Hollow.” “Okay.” Morpheus wore a confused frown. “I’ll explain later.” Thanatose wrapped his cloak around his shoulders. “Stay with Lyra until I get back.”

Chapter Three Come out of the sun and play in the shadows, said the spider to the fly. Lyra giggled when Niko’s car stalled—again. Over an hour ago, they’d left the town proper for what Niko called a “field trip.” Since their departure, his car had stalled four times. Each sputtering, gear-grinding, smoke-wafting-from-under-the-hood halt in forward progression sounded like the car’s death knell. “We need to do something about your old bucket of bolts, Niko. It’s on its last leg.” “Believe me, he’s got a lot of miles left in him.” Niko steered the car off the road. “We’ve been through hell and back. Haven’t we, old friend?” She almost sympathized with him. Over the years she’d become attached to personal possessions, mostly shoes and purses, but Niko was taking his love affair with his car to an extreme. “If you say so.” Mirth bubbled up in her when he yanked on the emergency brake. The handle came off. He grumbled a curse. “Morpheus, cool it with the ‘pity me’ antics. We have work to do.” Niko tossed the lever aside. Grabbing his cloak and gloves from the back seat, he exited the vehicle. He strode around to her door and opened it for her. Holding out his hand, he cocked an eyebrow. “Want to go for a ride?” “Isn’t that what we just did?” She couldn’t and truthfully didn’t want to figure out Niko’s mood. Ever since he’d returned from a meeting with Jacinda he’d scowled and glared at everybody except her. He hadn’t had a kind word to spare, either. “Trust me.” She placed her fingers on his palm. “I trusted you this morning,” she muttered. Her cheeks heated with her blush. Just like I put my faith in you when you asked me to go on this little sojourn. “Why wouldn’t I now?” “Morpheus, if you would,” Niko called after he’d moved her away from his car. “We’re tight on time tonight.” Wide-eyed, Lyra watched mist rise from the ground to envelop the station wagon. “Holy cow.” She blinked several times when a gorgeous winged pale-gray horse stood where the car had been less than a moment ago. “Actually, holy Pegasus,” Morpheus responded. “It’s good to stretch my wings.” He shook his head. His mane slashed through the air. “Ah, to be me.” The horse danced to the left. “In all my gloriousness.” “You can see why Morpheus is humiliated when he is ordered to morph into the Gremlin wagon,” Niko whispered. His warm breath tickled her ear. Delicious chills raced the length of her spine when Niko settled his hands on her hips. “Want to go for a ride?” He reiterated his question. Excited by the prospect, Lyra nodded. “Are you friendly?” Cautiously walking to the Pegasus, she held out her hand. “Very,” Morpheus said on a nicker. He stomped his hoof on the ground. “I’m housetrained too.” He nodded. His mane glinted in the moonlight. “Come on, Thanatose. I want to run.”

A warm chuckle came from behind her. Turning around, Lyra watched Niko throw his cloak across his shoulders. She tilted her head to the side. That’s not very impressive. “Yeah, come on. We don’t have all the time in the world.” “Some of us have less than others,” Morpheus murmured. A scowl marred Niko’s brow. He slid on his gloves. Lyra gasped when bones flew from nowhere to form a skeleton shadowing the man. He lifted the hood of his cloak and the skeleton stepped forward. She gazed at the empty eye sockets staring at her. Raising her finger as if to say, okay, how did you pull off that stunt? she decided against it when she recalled Niko was a god. “That’s cool.” “You haven’t seen anything yet,” Morpheus forewarned. “He is Death. Death is an ending and a beginning.” “Huh?” Her shoulders drooped. The excitement she’d felt only a moment ago dashed. This is too much to take in. “I don’t understand.” “It’s my totem,” Niko explained. Walking to Morpheus, he grabbed a handful of his mane and leapt onto his mount’s back. His cloak swirled in the air. He glared at her. “My mantra.” A spurt of fear shot through her. Catching herself before she stepped away from the awesome and fearsome figure, she licked her dry lips. “How is it a beginning? Once you’re dead, that’s it. Finite. Kaput.” She frowned. “Right?” “That depends.” Niko offered her his hand. “Afraid?” “A little.” “Don’t be.” He nudged Morpheus closer. The Pegasus folded his wings so they hugged his frame. “I won’t hurt you.” Her gaze shot from the bleached-white skull to his gloved hand. Trust me. The words shouted in her head. Those two words were pushing her to accept what she suspected most people, even paranormals, were so terrified of that they’d beg, borrow or steal to not meet him. “Wait. Whoa.” Her heart chugged hard. “Are you in my head?” “Yes. You live around telepaths. I’m no different from them.” “Except you could kill me.” “So could they if the mood struck them.” Good point. “One short ride,” Morpheus appealed to her adventurous side. “I promise not to make any hard turns.” “It’s so much to take in.” Really, what did you expect? He’s Death. “I know,” Niko said, his tone grave. “Unfortunately, Morpheus and I have clients to see to so you are going to have to make up your mind. Go with us or stay here until we’re done.” Make up your mind. She sucked in a breath and exhaled slowly. Thinking back to their love-play, she nodded. He hadn’t hurt her—well—cool it. He’s in your head. “Okay. I’m game.” The instant she grabbed his hand she was lifted and settled in his lap. His strong arms went around her. Strangely, the man holding her didn’t feel like bones, but like any guy. This gets weirder and weirder. “Ready?” She smiled shakily. Staring at his grip on Morpheus’s mane, goosebumps shivered

up her arms. “Sure.” Trepidation filled her when he kicked Morpheus. The horse reared. “Hey!” Hiding her face against his chest, she prayed Niko wouldn’t let her fall from her precarious perch. “God help me.” Dear God, please save me. Niko steered his mount toward the west. “Hyah!” The Pegasus’s wings unfurled and flapped once, then twice. Morpheus had the unmitigated gall to chuckle at her. “This is not funny,” she retorted hotly. If she hadn’t been so busy clutching Niko she would have punched his horse first for his callous nature, and then Niko secondly for getting her to agree to this suicide mission. “Relax.” Niko tightened his hold on her. “You might want to open your eyes.” “I hate heights.” “We’re still on the ground.” “I hate horses.” She refused to give in. Terror was terror and that’s what she felt— terrorized. What? What, God, did I do to deserve this? Niko laughed. “You’re fine. Morpheus would sooner drop me than you.” “So?” Not assured, Lyra peeked at the ground flying by beneath the horse’s hooves. “I’m holding you. He knows what our boss, Cain, would do to him if he was stupid enough to dump me on my ass. With you, the leader of the death caste would have Morpheus’s head for breakfast and his wings for lunch.” With a firm tug, he steered Morpheus in the other direction. “Relax and enjoy the ride.” “Are we actually going anywhere?” She didn’t think so since Niko was racing Morpheus over hill and dale but not taking flight. He had said something about clients to see. Well, at this rate they were getting nowhere fast. “Morpheus needs to burn off some pent-up energy.” He brushed his free hand up her back. “I’m letting him have his will.” “Oh,” she said because it was all she could think of to say. Forcing herself to calm down, she silently admitted to herself that she wasn’t so much afraid but overwhelmed. “There’s a bag of sleep sand in my pocket. Would you get it for me?” She reached for the small slit cut into the side of his cloak. Retrieving the simple cloth bag, she sighed. “Here it is.” “You’ll have to distribute sweet dreams this go ’round. I’ve happily got my hands full.” Hearing a seductive note enter his tone, she wanted to shriek at the man. She closed her eyes and bit her lip when Morpheus began to pulse his wings up and down. She would have dropped the sleep sand if she wasn’t clutching it the same way a drowning man gripped a lifeline. “Lyra, trust me. I’m not going to let you fall.” In direct opposition to her common sense, she peeked at their surroundings. “When did we take off?” They weren’t thrillingly high off the ground, but Morpheus’s hooves no longer plodded along the fertile earth. She tugged the string loose on the sack and took out a pinch of sleep sand. The glittering white crystals dotted her fingertips. A few of the grains were ripped away by the wind. They left a sparkling trail as they fell to earth. “How do I do this?” “A sprinkle here and a sprinkle there,” Morpheus said. “Don’t worry about trying to hit every home. It’s impossible and not how my duty works.” For a long time she let the sleep sand drift from her fingers, not thinking, not

feeling—just being. Coming to grips with the fact she was riding on a winged horse, held safely in the arms of Death personified. Nobody is ever going to believe this. “Probably not,” Niko commented. A chilly silence fell between them. “How did your meeting go with Mayor Fergus?” she asked. Her attempt at engaging him in chit-chat was met with a rasping sigh. She figured that was his way of saying it was none of her damn business. “Why didn’t you tell me this morning that you were a virgin?” He answered her question with one of his own. Shrugging, she let another pinch of sleep sand float from her fingers. “I didn’t think it mattered.” She shook her head. “I didn’t really think about it at all.” Because it never came up. Because I was crazy out of my mind with lust. Because you are the first man I’ve ever wanted to get naked with. “I see.” He kneed Morpheus to the north. “Do you regret that it happened?” “No.” She frowned and tilted her head back so she could look at his face. The bleached-white bones were cast in a surreal glow from the moon’s light. Gauging his attitude as noncommittal and nonjudgmental, she shrugged. “Why would I?” It was bound to happen sooner or later. Still, she was glad he’d been her first. Tremors of desire sparked inside her. Warmth seeded deep in her belly. Her nipples tightened to hard buds. “Do you regret it?” “Absolutely not,” he said softly. “Thanatose, we’re here.” Morpheus interrupted them. “I see that.” Lyra gazed at the brightly lit facility below them. “It’s a prison.” She saw blinding white halogen lights gleam off razor-wire, and could even make out guards in their towers. She narrowed her gaze to see a man carrying an assault rifle. “Hell no.” “My duty takes me to many unsavory places, Lyra,” Niko whispered. “Once birth occurs, death is inevitable.” “Wait!” Lyra cried when Morpheus touched down in the middle of the exercise yard. “The guards.” She imagined being shot on sight. “They can’t see us,” Niko told her. He tucked an errant strand of her hair behind her ear. “Stay with Morpheus.” He brushed his glove-clad knuckles down her cheek. The nerve-jangling rasp of bones swiveling on bones hit her ears when he looked at the side entrance to the prison. “I won’t be long.” He took the bag of sleep sand from her hand, closed the drawstrings and shoved it into the pocket of his cloak. Eased off Morpheus’s back, Lyra peeked at Niko as he dismounted. Her legs felt like jelly, and she grabbed Morpheus’s mane to keep from collapsing. Ouch! her brain shouted when she stepped out of Death’s path. “Sore?” The empty eye sockets seemed to inspect her from the top of her head to the tips of her worn sneakers. “A little.” A blush of embarrassment heated her cheeks. “I’m new to this.” Both riding and sex. She wasn’t sure which was the cause, or if both had brought on her discomfort. Her blush deepened. “Morpheus, see to my lady while I attend to Joseph Andrew Pritchard.” “Yes, Thanatose.” He shifted to his mortal form. “Thanks.” Lyra felt strong hands on her waist. She watched Niko’s ground-gobbling gait take him toward the entrance. “Be careful.”

Morpheus chuckled at her naive statement of concern. “Try to walk. That will help with the stiffness.” “You’re best friends.” “We are. Thanatose and I have been partners for a long time.” “What’s he like?” She kept her thoughts blank, but needed to know more about the man. “Death is what you make of it.” “I meant Niko. What’s he like?” “Are you asking me if he has a girlfriend?” Morpheus teased. “No.” Her blush flamed on her cheeks. She took a few steps and found that walking did ease some of the discomfort from her legs. “Tell me about him.” “There isn’t much to tell. He’s an ancient who is dedicated to his duty.” Morpheus let her hang on his arm as she moved in a slow circle. “If you want me to be more specific you’re going to have to spit it out. I can’t read your mind.” Interesting. Very interesting. “Okay, does he have a girlfriend?” Might as well start there. The last thing I need is an angry immortal lover launching a personal vendetta against me. “No.” Morpheus laughed. “The goddesses who survived Ragnarok, the Twilight of the Gods, aren’t very enthusiastic toward the ancient gods. Even if they were, I doubt Thanatose would ever entreat one of them in more than a dalliance. He has very high standards.” His mirth disintegrated. “At one time Thanatose was, to use the modern term, married to a goddess, but she isn’t around anymore.” “Really?” Her curiosity piqued, Lyra focused her attention on Morpheus. A sad expression crossed his handsome features. “Eternity. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.” Morpheus nodded and his voice fell to a shallow, awestruck whisper. “Her powers were immense. She could see the past, the future and all points in between. There were times she even changed history, or so it was rumored. Only Thanatose knows for certain if it’s true.” “What happened to her?” Lyra asked absently, silently pondering if she was going to have an extremely powerful ex-wife from hell showing up in her room. “I don’t know. One day she was in the Third Level, the next she was gone.” Morpheus turned her so she faced him. “A few of the elder gods suspect she’s paying heavy penance in Hell for playing with time. Others think she walked into Oblivion, thus ending her infinite lifespan.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure Thanatose knows. He’s never spoken of her since she disappeared.” “Wow. Talk about incredible.” You can end an immortal life? Morpheus’s gaze slashed to the entrance. His hands fell from her shoulders. “Are you feeling better?” Out of her peripheral vision she spied Niko approaching. Lyra went over all she’d learned from Morpheus, then filed it away. “Yes, thanks.” Before she could blink, the beautiful Pegasus stood beside her. “Where to next?” she asked when Niko joined them. “I have three more urgent clients for tonight, and then we can go wherever you want,” he told her. He mounted, and then offered her his hand. Unlike the last time, she didn’t hesitate. Her fingers curled around his gloved palm. Amazed by his strength, she smiled once he’d settled her in his lap. The memory of

touching his naked skin flew through her system. “Stop that.” “What?” he said on a chuckle. “You know what I’m talking about. Just stop putting thoughts into my head.” Rejecting the urge to squirm, she narrowed her gaze on his face when she felt the distinctive bulge of his erection against her butt. Another vision popped into her mind’s eye. Her jaw ached from clamping down on the moan rising in her throat. Unable to get away from the mental picture, she failed to notice that Morpheus was once more airborne. “You like this, don’t you.” His voice sounded in her skull. She shook her head but the image of the two of them showering under a waterfall, his hands playing with her tits as he plunged into her from behind, wouldn’t go away. Wetness gathered in her panties. She gasped when the arm holding her to his frame slipped a little so he could caress her jean-clad thigh. Dryness tightened her throat. “You have a one-track mind.” She shivered. His fingers inched closer to her crotch. A throb took hold of her crotch. “Knock it off. I got the hint. You’re horny.” Niko threw his head back and laughed. “Only for you,” he commented once he’d sobered. “Only for you.” Gazing up and into the gaping eye sockets of the skull, she heaved a harsh sigh. In a valiant attempt to get her proverbial feet beneath her, she changed the subject. There wasn’t a damn thing she could do about her wanton lust. “You never did tell me how your meeting went with Mayor Fergus.” “She wouldn’t see me.” “Sorry.” “Don’t be. We’ll meet again.” He steered Morpheus toward his next client. He leveled his stare on her face. “Sooner rather than later, Mayor Fergus will give up her secrets to me.” Sensing he was couching his words, Lyra grabbed the sack of sleep sand from his pocket. “And?” Lyra’s heart pounded hard in her chest. She nibbled on her lower lip. “There is no ‘and.’” His breath rushed down on her. “I’ll perform my duty.” “Were you sent here to kill Jacinda?” Kill isn’t the right word. “Were you sent here to—” “Release her fae soul? No.” “Oh. Good.” She opened her mouth to tell him all of Mayor Fergus’s better qualities. He gripped her thigh. “But, Lyra, you have to understand this. If she stands in the way of me performing my task, she’ll reap the full-force of my power. She’ll taste firsthand the damage I can cause not only to her town but herself.” The fine grains of sleep sand fell from Lyra’s fingers. She nodded. A clog of emotion grew in her throat. It was part anger at his callousness and part sadness. “She’s not a bad sort.” He tilted his face to hers. “Lyra, she’s interfering with Death and his client.” For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why Jacinda was standing in his way. “She probably has a good reason.” Their gazes locked. “I highly doubt that,” he said.

Chapter Four There is something to be said for basking in the sunshine. With his roster of priority clients out of the way, Niko let Morpheus have his will. Since their discussion regarding Mayor Fergus, Lyra had remained stubbornly quiet. He took the bag of sleep sand from her hands and shoved it into his pocket. “Where to, Lyra?” “Are you done for the night?” “Yes.” She nibbled on her lower lip. “I think I’d like to go home,” she muttered, so low he had to bend his head to hear her. “I’m a little tired and I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be a long day.” “What gives you that idea?” “Because when is it not a long day when you’re around?” She sighed. “Ever since I’ve met you it feels as though time has crept by.” He chuckled. “You aren’t the first person to ever tell me that.” “Why?” “Mostly because my duty is long and drawn-out.” He turned solemn. It was part of the reason why he’d been bound to Eternity way back in the day. Unlike other gods who’d had multiple duties, both of theirs were dedicated to one aspect of mortality. Both were tedious and required a great deal of personal fortitude. He shoved the thoughts of his mate away. “Not only do I release the souls appearing on my lists, but then I have a mountain of paperwork to fill out. Death registries, the log of souls and their final destinations…” “Where do you think I’ll finally end up?” “I thought you didn’t believe in life after death.” “I don’t know what to think anymore.” “Let me just put it this way.” Niko tugged sharply on Morpheus’s mane when the Pegasus snorted. “The afterlife is what you make of it.” “Okay.” Again the conversation broke down. He sensed that she was genuinely curious, but she wasn’t willing to get into a heavy theological discussion with him. Glad for that, he directed Morpheus toward Strange Hollow. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to visit New York City or Paris?” “Maybe tomorrow.” She leaned her head against his chest and snuggled against his cloak. A clog of emotion formed in his throat. Tomorrow. My last day in Strange Hollow. Your last day of life. “Would you mind if we took a short detour?” Torturing himself wouldn’t make this easier on either of them. The plan was to get Lyra to live a little. If that required him showing her a place no mortal saw before they died, then so be it. “We won’t be there long.” She shrugged. “Sure.” “Morpheus, take us to the closest Ethereal Gate.” He knew exactly where he was

going to take her. The place he went to when the stress of his duty made him nuts and the one he’d shown her in her mind’s eye when he was performing his preferred type of foreplay. The Goddess Falls located in the Third Realm. “Are you sure?” Morpheus asked. “Yes.” He knew he was taking a risk for bringing a mortal to the Third Realm before her death. Hell, he was burning a proverbial candle at both ends considering he’d already broken the rules and was yet to complete his mission. “At once, Thanatose.” Beneath Niko’s legs, Morpheus’s powerful muscles worked. Streamers of sleep sand fell from the Pegasus’s hooves. “Hold on, Lyra.” “Do I have a choice?” “No.” He chuckled. They broke through the thin part of the barrier separating the temporal plane from the ethereal one. Slicing through the bright light leading them to the Third Realm, Niko groaned when Lyra dug her fingernails into the skin of his chest. He remembered her raking her nails down his back when they’d had sex. His cock hardened. Damn, he wanted her, and not just for the next twenty-four hours but forever. Let off, he ordered himself. There’s nothing good that can come from wishing for a miracle. A miracle? He was shooting low. To save Lyra from death would take divine intervention. “It’s beautiful here.” Her voice drew him from his macabre musings. He breathed deeply of the clean air and listened to the sound of the waterfall rushing. Peeking through the veil of his lashes, he watched the pocket watch suspended in thin air turn slowly on its axis. He lifted Lyra off his lap once Morpheus’s hooves had hit the ground. “This was my last mate’s grotto. She’d come here to sit and think about the direction of time.” “Morpheus told me you were married before.” Lyra waited for him to dismount. “I’m sorry.” “About?” He frowned at her. Removing his gloves, he reverted to his mortal form. He felt the pall of death release him from its cold grip. Lyra patted the Pegasus’s side. “He said she wasn’t around anymore.” “She’s always with me,” Niko contradicted. It was true too. Eternity was never far from him even though she resided on another plane of existence. “She lives in my thoughts and my memories of the time we shared before Ragnarok.” “It must be nice…” “What?” he asked when her words trailed off and she turned to stare at the waterfall. “To have loved someone so deeply that you think about them often.” “Eternity and I had a special relationship.” He brushed his knuckles down the side of Lyra’s cheek. “Morpheus, if you’d give us a few minutes.” Holding out his hand to her, he waited to see if she would take it. “We were very good friends.” “Morpheus said she might be paying penance in Hell.” Reading only sadness in her thoughts, Niko exhaled slowly. “She’s not.” Niko walked with her along the banks of the pool. He tilted his eyes to the sky. “If you look really hard, you can see the Ethereal Gate that leads to her plane of existence.” He pointed at the distant bright spot. “The Gate, like all the others leading up and through the remaining levels of Heaven are closed to everybody who resides in the Third Realm.” “Why?” she asked. “I mean, you don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to.”

It was a long and somewhat complicated explanation so Niko decided to keep it simple. “Let’s just say this is the ancients’ slice of heaven and leave it at that for the time being.” It was a disgustingly cowardly out, but he wasn’t ready to tell her that she was going to be released from her mortal body soon. Too soon. “It’s nice here.” Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You brought me here before. Telepathically.” “Yes.” His cock hardened more when she peeked at him. Coming around her, he cupped her head in his hands and lowered his lips. “Did you like what I was doing to you in the dream?” “Very much,” she whispered against his lips. “Care to go for a dip?” “Would you?” “I’d love to. I’ve never…” “Your wish is my command,” he muttered before he took her mouth in a soul-searing kiss. He snapped his fingers and their clothes disappeared. Molding her curves to his, he sank his tongue between her parted lips. Their tongues dueled. His hand caressed her ass and slid up her back to hold her closer. He couldn’t get enough of her. He captured her tiny moans of pleasure, absorbed her shivers of desire as he lifted her in his arms and carried her into the crystal clear water. Tearing his mouth from hers, he strode into the water. “Can you swim?” “You’ve hit upon the one thing that is a guarantee in Strange Hollow—there’s always somebody around who can teach you something.” She laughed with abandon as he went to toss her in. She only held on all the harder. “I was taught how to swim by a water dragon.” Releasing his hold on her thighs, she slid down his ridged body. “Good.” He pulled her arms from around his neck, and tossed her into the deeper end of the pool. She came up sputtering. Laughing, she pounded huge plumes of water at him. “Who taught you how to do that?” he asked. “Same water dragon.” “I see.” He dove and resurfaced directly behind her. His desire stroked upward until it was at a fevered pitch. Grabbing her from behind, he palmed her breasts. He dipped his hand to the juncture of her thighs. “Tell me this is what you want.” She responded in a long, low moan. “You have to say the words, Lyra.” His cock ached to sink into her welcoming heat. With his heart blasting in his chest, he swam the two of them to the shallow end. “Say it,” he whispered huskily. “I … want … you.” He carried her onto the shoreline. Laying her on the fertile ground, he brushed her wet hair from her face before kissing her. Slow down. He could have done slow if he wasn’t so hot for her. Raking his teeth down her neck, he wanted her so crazed for sex she’d beg him to fuck her. Get a hold of yourself. “So sweet.” He teased his lips across her shoulder blades and down her chest. Weighing her breast in his hand, he pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He laved the other. “Yes,” she hissed. Her fingers tangled in his hair. “Please.” Working his way down her chest, he slid his free hand to her inner thigh. He spread her legs and adjusted his position. She wriggled against him. Kissing the delicate skin of her tummy, he dipped his tongue into the hollow of her navel. Slowly, he continued his

journey south until his hot breath stroked her wet sex. She arched her back when he ran his tongue up her slit. He flicked his tongue over her clit until she moaned. Spearing her channel with his tongue, he reveled in her groan of ecstasy. He fucked her with his tongue until she was clawing at the ground. “Please!” “Right now?” he asked huskily. “Yes. Now!” He positioned himself between her legs, and in a single thrust was fully embedded. Gritting his teeth, he leaned forward, propping his weight on his straight arms. Her vagina hugged him like a new glove. “Give it to me.” “I will.” He started a slow dance. In the back of his mind he knew the healing waters of the pool should have eased any of the aches she might have experienced, but he still kept his discipline in check. Sucking in deep breaths, he measured his thrusts. His cock ached for release. His sac tightened. No. Not before she climaxes. Pulling up the last tattered remnants of his discipline, he drove into her again and again until he was mindless to everything except the woman clutching him. “Come for me.” She did on a shout of his name. “Niko!” “I’m here.” The strong contractions rifling down her channel brought on his climax. And still he continued to plunge into her after he’d spilled his seed. Nearly collapsing on top of her, he had the wherewithal to prop his weight on his elbows. He felt her soul lift from her chest. The filmy bit of her reaching for the solace only a member of the death caste could provide to one touched by death. “Not yet.” With a will born from sheer self-preservation, he rolled off her. Unlike the first time he’d made love to her, he didn’t pull her along. Trying to drag air into his lungs, he laid his hand on her hair. All he wanted to do was hold her for eternity. Sliding his gaze to the passionate woman beside him, he watched her struggle to regain her composure. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you?” “I’m fine,” she rasped. “That was good. Really, really good.” He chuckled low in his throat. His heart beat a rapid tattoo. For the first time in a millennia he felt alive—as if his immortality was thriving simply because he was in her presence. “Was it good … for you?” she asked, breathless. “If it gets any better you might just kill me.” His statement struck him as if he’d been gored by a bull. One more day. He closed his eyes against the nightmare he was living. She giggled. “As if that’s possible.” Rolling onto his side, he laid a kiss on her forehead. He settled his hand over her heart. Her soul reached for him. Snatching his arm back, he gritted his teeth. “I better get you home.” “Is anything wrong?” she asked as he helped her to her feet. Rising, he loomed over her. Not for the first time did he realize just how tiny Lyra was. “No. It’s getting late, and, as you said, tomorrow will be a long day.” **** Lyra couldn’t stop sighing. Worst, was every time she thought about Niko a funny

feeling filled her chest. It was a lightness she’d never experienced before. She liked it. The sensation brought a smile to her face. The bang of the front door hitting the wall and angry footsteps in the hall brought her around. Peeking over the banister, Lyra huffed with exasperation. She set the dustcloth she’d been using on the framed paintings over the railing. “Good afternoon, Mrs. VanNess. How are you today?” “If you hadn’t noticed, missy, it’s evening.” She took her time gazing around the parlor. “Where is he?” the crotchety old woman asked. Her normally pinched expression tightened more. “I want to see Mr. Thorton immediately.” Vigor popped his head out of the wall behind Mrs. VanNess to stick his tongue out at her. He retreated quickly when the nosy vampire, whose claim to fame was she was afraid of the dark, spun on her heel. “I believe Mr. Thorton is in his office.” Lyra almost stumbled over Niko’s cover name. “I’ll announce you.” “Of course you will.” Miriam VanNess grumbled something under her breath, but Lyra didn’t catch any of the grumbled words. Whatever had the woman in a tizzy-fit was beyond Lyra. “Can I ask what this is in regards to?” Lyra asked after she’d strolled down the stairs. “I want to make sure my final wishes are followed to the letter when my time comes.” Mrs. VanNess glowered at Lyra. “You know how funeral directors are. All they want is your money. They don’t care about flowers or music.” She glared down her hawkish nose at Lyra. “I, for one, care about how I’m sent off.” “I understand that, Mrs. VanNess.” Lyra walked to where Niko’s office was located and tapped on the door. She opened the door a crack. “Mrs. VanNess is here to see you Mr.—Thorton,” she called. “Send her in,” Niko responded. The mere sound of his voice had her throat going dry and her pulse accelerating. The lightness in her chest bloomed. “You can go in.” “There’s nothing wrong with my hearing.” She waved her hand in the air. “Beg pardon, ma’am.” Lyra backed away from the door. She was about to pull the door closed when Niko asked her to join them. “Yes, Mr. Thorton.” “I’d like you to take some notes for me.” He rose, shook Mrs. VanNess’s hand, and then motioned for the aged blood-sucker to sit. “Please.” Not sure why she was shaking, Lyra strode forward and took the pen and pad of paper from him. Sitting in the companion chair, she nibbled on her lower lip. They waited and waited some more. “I’ll tell you this, Mr. Thorton, I want my wishes carried out to the letter.” Mrs. VanNess placed her clutch-style handbag on the corner of his desk. “I don’t want purple pansies at my funeral. I want violets and lots of them.” “I see.” Lyra had the distinct impression Niko couldn’t have cared less if the woman wanted to be buried on the moon or not. “You should be writing this down, Lyra. These are my final arrangements, after all.” Mrs. VanNess opened her purse and took out a hand-written list of things she expected to have at her funeral. “There will be two viewings, one at precisely ten o’clock at night and the other at midnight. Do you understand, Mr. Thorton?” Niko nodded. “Will it make you feel better if I told you that you weren’t going to die

anytime soon?” “Absolutely not.” Mrs. VanNess took out another list. “This is the music I’ve selected to be played at the service. I’ve marked three preferences for singers. My first choice, of course, would be the one I expect you to play.” “You wouldn’t like them there in person?” Niko drawled. Lyra couldn’t tell if Niko was teasing the woman or being sarcastic. Taking in the cold, black stare he’d planted on the vampiress, she took the list from Mrs. VanNess while the two tried to stare each other down. “I’ll see that this is filed with your other preferences.” “See that you do.” Mrs. VanNess frowned. Many of the residents of Strange Hollow considered Mrs. VanNess an eccentric. They whispered her bark was far worse than her bite. Lyra always thought the snob was a royal pain in the ass. “Also, on the first anniversary of my death, I wish my body to be exhumed, a light placed in the casket with my remains and reburied. That is not open to debate.” “Fine.” Niko nodded. “You’ll see to this personally.” “I said, ‘fine’.” “There is no need to be rude, Mr. Thorton.” He didn’t apologize. He did stand and walk to the door. “I will see that your wishes are carried out to the letter, but don’t expect me to sit idly by while you malign my assistant with your thoughts.” “You read my mind?” “Didn’t I just say I did?” “How dare you.” “Mrs. VanNess, I dare anything.” “Mayor Fergus will hear about this.” Grumpily, Mrs. VanNess grabbed her purse, snorted at Lyra and headed for the door. “You can count on that, elitist.” Pure panic ripped through Lyra. Oh no. “Give her my best.” Niko slammed the door behind her. “Go after her,” Lyra commanded. “She’ll have the whole town after you.” “Elitists will be eaten on sight, my ass.” Niko returned to his seat. “But snobs don’t count. This town makes no sense.” “You have to understand. Mrs. VanNess was one of the first people to move to Strange Hollow after it was founded. She’s been given some leeway with her attitude.” Lyra reconsidered her explanation when he cocked an eyebrow at her. “Okay, she’s been given a lot of leeway with her attitude, but you have to come to grips with the fact she is a fixture in this town.” “I don’t have to come to grips with anything.” He raked his hand through his hair. What part of this don’t you understand? That you can’t win against Mayor Fergus or that these people will come after you? “Niko, you can’t fight the whole town.” “That was never my intention, Lyra.” Something snapped inside her. Tears filled her eyes. “Then what is your intention? Tell me? Are you on vacation or something? Are you hunting?” She surged to her feet so fast she knocked the chair over. “Why the hell are you here? To turn Strange Hollow on its ear? To make my life miserable?”

His sigh was ripe with exasperation. “I’m hunting.” He picked up his fountain pen and tapped it against the blotter. “Now that I’ve acquired the location of my target, I will perform my duty and get the hell out of this town.” Her heart broke on his statement of truth. “You found who you were looking for?” “Thanks to Mrs. VanNess and her wayward thoughts, yes. She was complaining about the new renter next door to her house allowing his dog to dig up her flowerbeds.” “Mr. Carney?” “You know him?” There wasn’t a hint of accusation in his tone. “No. I’ve never met the man.” She brushed the tears from her cheeks. What did I expect? Him to hang around here forever? God, I’m such a fool. She swallowed hard, trying to choke down the truth and the sobs inching up her throat. “Gossip is like dry leaves in the fall around here. Before you hit the city limits everybody is buzzing about it.” “I suspected as much. I also concluded Mayor Fergus has put a binding spell on him, thinking she’ll prevent me from releasing his soul.” “That won’t stop you.” “She’s not aware of that, nor is Leslie Carney.” “Then you’ll leave…” “Yes.” She wanted to sob. I’ll never see you again. “If you’ll excuse me.” Moving toward the door, she looked at him. The feelings she’d felt less than an hour ago burned to ash. In its place was a sickening heaviness. “Lyra, don’t regret what we’ve shared.” “I don’t.” Wishing she could muster the energy to get angry at him, she sent him a shaky smile. “Don’t worry about me,” she said when he scowled. “I’ll land on my feet.” It’ll just take a little longer this time. Her hand hit the doorknob. His presence encroached on her being. He held the door closed with a hand on the wood. “Please, I have to go.” She leaned her forehead against the cold wood. Tears dripped from her cheeks to splash on her sneakers. The sobs inched higher. “Lyra.” His warm breath rushed over her. He turned her and wrapped his arms around her. The dam on the tears broke. Curling her fingers into his shirt, she sobbed. “Shh,” he hushed. “It’ll be all right.” “How?” She wanted to know. “How will it be okay?” Her world might as well have been crashing down on her. That’s how devastated she was. Her breath hitched. A pang of pain smacked her in the middle of her chest. “I’ll make it all better,” he said. He kissed the top of her head. “Trust me.” Her hands slipped around his waist. I do. Beneath her ear she listened to the steady beat of his heart. Dying is probably less painful than this.

Chapter Five It’s always darkest before the dawn. “Death.” Vigor’s slithering, hissing voice rose from the floor. “There is a mob gathering at the end of the street.” Niko exhaled sharply. “Nothing less than I should have expected.” It had taken him hours to calm Lyra down. Once he’d achieved that feat, he’d ordered her to get some sleep. Like the first night, he employed the use of sleep sand to give her some solace. “Has Morpheus returned from the Third Realm?” “Not yet.” Vigor’s visage shivered out of the wall. “There’s an old bicycle in the garage if you need to run.” “Death never runs away.” After laying a kiss on Lyra’s forehead, he straightened. “Is Carney with them?” “Yes. He’s coming to you. He’s coming to you.” The repetition informed Niko how stressed the ghoul was. “Stay with Lyra.” He picked up his cloak and gloves from the foot of the bed. He stared at Vigor. “Protect her with your undead life.” “Do you think they’ll destroy the funeral home?” “I think if they are whipped into a frenzy, which I’m sure they are thanks to Mayor Fergus, nothing is to be discounted.” “Yes, Death. Will protect Lyra.” The ghoul was so nervous he was shifting in and out of focus. You’ll protect her so I can—in essence—kill her in a few hours. How ironic? Stretching out the stiff muscles of his neck, he flung his cloak around his shoulders and lifted the cowl. He ground his teeth together when he remembered holding Lyra during her teary storm. Her rampant thoughts told him she was in love with him but she hadn’t recognized the signs yet. His heart thudded when he recalled the three words that had sprang to the tip of his tongue—I love you. Three words he’d never uttered in his entire immortal existence. How or why wasn’t an issue anymore. He slapped his gloves against his calloused palms. No. His big problem was how could he get both of them off the hook upon which he’d set them. He could refuse to take her soul, but that didn’t help with the problem that was his deadline. It also didn’t fix how her soul was reaching for him. It wanted out. It wanted to get away from the nightmares and the weariness it experienced from being so far from her expiration date. There wasn’t a shade of gray involved this go ’round, not that there was usually a variance in his duty. He’d lift her soul and be quit of Strange Hollow. Preferably never to return. “Is Mayor Fergus leading the group?” “Yes.” Vigor nodded. “Good.” Leaving the room, he walked purposefully down the stairs and out the funeral parlor’s front door. He stopped on the front porch. The early summer flowers wilted the minute he walked past them. The pall of death had fallen over him but wasn’t

at its full strength. If it was, the flowers would have dried up and blown away. Gazing at the eastern horizon, Niko willed the sun to not rise. Time was now his great enemy. He strode to the middle of the street. “You wanted to see me, Your Honor?” He slid on his right glove and then his left. The bones he was intimately familiar with raced out of thin air to form a perfect skeleton behind him. Several of the people in the mob raced for cover. Jacinda marched the remainder of her troop toward him. Murmurs lit the night air as people wondered aloud what they had gotten themselves into. “Get out of my town.” “I intend to once I’ve performed my duty.” Holding his hand out, Carney slid across the macadam to face him. “And, you are my target, Leslie Louis Carney. Your run from the ultimate end is over. Prepare yourself.” “Lyra isn’t your client?” Jacinda sounded confused. “But I saw her death…” Niko couched his words carefully and kept his mind blank. “If she was my client we wouldn’t be having this discussion right now. She’d be dead, and I’d have left Strange Hollow two days ago.” Angry grumbles wafted from the crowd. “You’re an elitist.” Jacinda was struggling to regain control of the citizenry. “Actually, I’m more than that.” Dipping his fingers into Carney’s chest, Niko pulled the filmy shadow of his soul out. “I am the end.” “I don’t want to die.” Carney’s eyes widened with fear. “She said that once she put the spell on me… Please, I don’t want to die. If I die you’ll take Lyra next.” “Not that you care a whit about Lyra,” Niko challenged. “Don’t.” Carney’s gasped for air. A long, slow exhalation rattled from his chest. Niko released his soul as Carney’s mortal remains crumbled to the ground. The sound of a bell tolling thrice and then thrice again rent the night in two. A portal leading to the many realms of Heaven opened, and Leslie Carney stepped into the glowing golden light. He picked up his three suitcases and began the long ascent to his final destination. A communal “Oh” sounded. “You’ve performed your duty, now leave.” Jacinda propped her fists on her bountiful hips. She had the unmitigated gall to tap her foot in agitation. “After you see Mr. Carney properly buried.” “Bury him yourself.” Niko turned and nearly knocked Lyra to the ground. Steadying her with his hands on her upper arms, he stared at the woman he loved. Quelling the urge to jerk her into his arms and keep her there where she’d be safe from the big, bad world, he clenched his jaw instead. Nothing could save either of them from the sad fact it was over. Time’s up. “Would you like to take a little trip with me?” His voice sounded strained to his own ears. She pointed a finger in the air, looked at the spot through which Mr. Carney entered the stairs leading to Heaven, and then back at him. “I … uh…” She took in the crowd. Her sleep-mussed hair flowed around her shoulders, and Niko’s fingers itched to touch it. “Sure. Where do you want to go?” “To bed.” His bed in the Third Realm. There they would have plenty of room to stretch out. No. It’s over. An all too familiar knot of emotion gathered in his throat. Do it. Release her.

Struggling to contain the emotional pain banging in his chest and clanging in his head, he leaned down. He brushed his lips across hers. The grip he had on her arms turned brutal. He was trying to hang on to her for all he was worth. “You will always be with me,” he mouthed. A single tear slid down his cheek to land on her face. “Always,” he repeated. Her soul eased from her chest. Rather than push her away, he let the filmy figure float toward High Heaven. “I love you.” He caught her. Cradling her limp body against his chest, he threw his head back and howled like a wounded animal. “No!” In a scattering of bones, with the echo of his scream still bouncing off the buildings, he raced for the Third Realm. “No,” he whispered. Appearing in his bedroom, he laid her on his bed. He knelt beside her. Removing his gloves, he returned to his mortal form. His hands moved to right her arms so she lay in repose. “Why?” The feel of a palm landing on his shoulder brought him upright. “Why?” He fisted his hand at his side. The undeniable urge to strike the first solid object he could connect with reared up in him. He forced his hand to relax. Morpheus stared at Lyra. “It was her time, Niko.” Shaking his head, Niko tilted his gaze to the beautiful mural painted on the ceiling. It depicted a starlit sky with Death and his faithful mount traveling across the globe. In the background stood the gold pocket watch. A visual reminder, as if he needed one, of the woman he’d mated. “You finished what was begun a long time ago.” “Don’t give me that.” Out of his mind with sadness, Niko strode for the balcony. He nearly ripped the French doors from their hinges. Storming out, he stared at the black mist surrounding his castle. It was as if the sun had died. “She was in pain.” “Tell me something I don’t already know.” “That’s your duty. To release those who are in pain from it.” He wanted to blame somebody, anybody, for letting him lose his head and fall in love with her. He couldn’t. It began and ended with him. Bowing, he leaned his weight on the cold marble-capped railing. “Inform Cain of the situation. I’ll journey to the Tomb tomorrow morning,” he gritted out between his clenched teeth. “Niko…” Slashing his hand through the air, Niko closed his eyes. The tone of a crystal bell in the distance informed him a new soul had entered High Heaven. No. In his gut he knew it was Lyra’s soul reaching its final destination. A place he couldn’t visit. His jaw began to ache from grinding his teeth together. “Leave me.” His tone was like the crack of a whip. He turned to stare at his constant companion for most of his immortal life. “They didn’t give me a chance to mourn Eternity after she was ripped from the Ethereal Dynamic.” Predominantly because of all the souls on Earth who’d required his services then. Disease. War. General chaos had abounded two millennia ago. By the White God, I barely got a chance to say goodbye to her. “The least they can do for me is afford me the time to bury Lyra.” Morpheus nodded. “If you need me—” “Thank you.” A fresh howl of grief built in Niko’s chest. Shaking his head, he tried to wrap his duty around himself, to enfold himself in the cold, callous attitude attributed

to death. It was a lost cause. The door clicked closed. Alone with only his thoughts to occupy him, Niko stared at Lyra’s body for hours, mentally preparing himself for what came next. He’d bury her in the Goddess’s Grotto, the place where her soul wanted to be released. Then, once he’d done right by her, he’d face his boss. He’d probably land in Hell for a century or more for his indiscretions, but he didn’t care. Satan couldn’t hurt him more than he already was. “You are too hard on yourself, Thanatose.” The whispering voice of the youngest Norn stroked through his room. “Why do you visit me tonight, Wyrd?” For the love of the ancients, leave me alone. “The Fates are old.” She appeared as a gray misty creature in the far corner of his room. “As are all of us.” Niko narrowed his gaze on the woman who spun the threads of life. With her two partners they wove the immense World Tapestry harbored inside the body of Yggdrasil, the World Tree. The tapestry was a pathway of sorts for every man, woman and child who ever existed on Earth, but also the ancient gods in the heavens. Threads were knotted in, woven into the design before being cut, thus ending a mortal life. His thread was a constant, continuously added to by the Norns, and would be until the next Twilight of the Gods. He almost asked her to break his string from the tapestry. “Very old.” She floated to the foot of the bed. “Even our life threads grow thin—as thin as a single strand of a child’s golden hair.” She opened her palm to reveal a gossamer filament. “Pitted like bones left out in the weather too long.” Niko understood that. He had felt it too. “I wish to diminish.” “You can’t.” Stunned, Niko strode to the bed. What the blazes? “Fate is a constant. The same as death, dreams and time. You can’t leave the Ethereal Dynamic. Mankind needs you.” “I can—now.” She nodded. “You always live beneath the weight of a deadline. I have too for the last twenty years. I had to wait … wait … and wait.” “For?” Niko frowned at the ancient. Though Wyrd had never appeared a day over fourteen, she was older than he was. An ancient amongst the ancients. “For my replacement to grow up.” She smiled innocently at him. “To experience all the things I never could. To live,” she admitted in a shallow whisper. “Lyra.” Her name left his lips on a gasp. “Yes. Tested was she. So were you, Death.” She clasped her hands. “We had to be sure the knots we tied binding her life-thread to yours were strong. That you would understand not only the joy of being in her arms, but also the pain should you fail us.” “You never told anyone?” “None save the other Norns. Satan has ears to every wall and eyes around every corner except inside the World Tree. His reach is long.” Pulling a packet of letters out of thin air, she held them out to Niko. “These explain my intentions and the deadline. They will exonerate you from punishment since I alone bound you to Lyra. My sisters were not present when I wove the strings together.” Niko held his breath as the string lifted from Wyrd’s other hand and traveled to hover over Lyra’s chest. A glow grew from the life-thread, illuminating Lyra’s face. “You must protect her from his corruption.”

He took the packet from her hand. “I will.” “Love her forever. Please.” The Norns designed her for me. “Yes, we did. Tested, judged—found worthy of immortality.” “I will love her until the world ends,” Niko vowed. “Then my time is over.” The thread dipped to stroke Lyra’s tee-shirt-clad chest. “My sisters will arrive in the morning to begin her training. Use this night to your advantage, Death.” “Thank you, Wyrd.” With all my heart, I thank you. Wyrd’s smile brightened and she giggled. The thread slipped into Lyra’s chest and color returned to her face. “Take care of her.” The Norn’s body turned to dust and floated out of the room. “Goodbye, Wyrd,” Niko muttered. Falling to his knees, he brushed his hand over Lyra’s hair. He kissed her cheek. “Time to rise and shine, sweetheart.” Resting his palm over the place where her soul belonged, he felt the warmth radiating from her essence tingle up his arm. “What … what … happened?” She blinked several times. “Niko?” “I’ll explain everything later.” He settled his lips over hers. Kissing her gently, he gloried in her reaction. I’ll never lose you again. If I have to fight all the minions of Hell or Satan himself, you are mine. She traced her fingers across his jaw when he lifted his head. “I love you too.” There was no heralding snap of his fingers as he removed their clothes. “Thank the White God.” He eased his body onto the bed next to hers. His gaze traced every curve of her body. “Are you all right?” “I feel great.” She tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his lips back to hers. “Would you like to know what Heaven looks like?” “I already do.” “Do you?” Love glowed in her eyes along with the ethereal light of an ascended. “You are my slice of heaven.” He kissed her deeply, lingering in the emotions flowing off her and through him. She clutched his shoulders. “You are always with me.” He nodded. “And I’m always with you.” “Yes.” He rolled over so she blanketed him. He stared at the mural. The mural had changed. To the side of where Morpheus and he stood was a depiction of the World Tree. A long branch reached for him, nearly touching his hand. The other branches flowed to shelter him from the pressure of his duty. Still, in the background was Eternity’s symbol of the pocket watch. Caressing Lyra’s back in a slow, soothing gesture, he breathed deeply and exhaled slowly. Time was his companion, a distant but trustworthy friend, but his destiny hugged him. “By the White God and the ancients, I love you.” His penis stiffened. Raking his teeth down the side of her neck, she moaned. She lowered herself onto his erection. “Oh.” “This is where you belong. By my side…” He started a slow dance. His hands on her hips guided her up and down his shaft. “In my bed.” He sucked in a gasp when she clawed at his shoulders. “With me, always.” Her hair shifted across her shoulders as she moved with him. “Niko.”

“I’m here.” He rolled her over. Propping his weight on his elbows, he watched her face. Her vagina hugged his cock. He’d had many a woman in his past, but none who met his passion like Lyra did. “Yes.” She clutched his biceps when he began to thrust into her. “Oh, yes.” “Say it,” he demanded. “I love you.” Her head lolled from side to side. “Harder. Harder.” He gave in to her commands. Plunging deeper, he kissed her cheek, then her lips. His heart was ready to beat out of his chest. “Come for me.” She did on a shout. He was right behind her. “Don’t leave me. Hold me.” “I have you.” **** “Promise me you won’t do anything to Jacinda.” Lyra pushed the argument they’d been having. In the six months since she’d died and been reborn her powers had grown. She also worked hard with the other Norns on the World Tapestry. He’d held her when she thought she’d made a grave mistake, swearing the whole time that she hadn’t screwed up some mortal’s future. “Niko, please don’t get into a fight with her. Her motives are pure.” “Lyra, that’s enough.” Steering them down Omega Avenue, Niko turned into the driveway of Spimoni’s Funeral Parlor and Crematorium. Morpheus was quiet for a change, appeased since Cain had allowed him to shift into his preferred form for a vehicle. The classic Rolls Royce rumbled up to the garage. “I won’t harm her.” If he’d had his druthers, he’d never have returned to Strange Hollow unless he was called to do so. Lyra didn’t have a choice. She needed closure and to say her goodbyes to those who had touched her soul before her ascension to goddess-hood. He exited the car and walked to her side. Opening the door for her, she placed her fingers trustingly on his palm. Nodding to Morpheus once he shifted to his mortal form, he turned his head to stare at the six-story building situated on a narrow lot. Counting the windows, he chuckled. “What?” she asked. Standing beside him, she leaned her head against his side. “I thought Jacinda was superstitious?” “She is—very.” “Count the windows. Five on the door’s sidelight and six full-sized on the back.” Thirteen in all on this side of the house. He added the number of plants skirting the rear entrance. Again, thirteen. He laughed. “Stop.” Lyra tried to stifle a giggle but failed miserably. “It’s not funny.” “A crooked house, on a crooked lot,” he teased her as a black cat hissed before it scurried across the backyard. “Niko!” Lyra squealed when he lifted her in his arms and spun her around. “Leave Jacinda alone.” “Fine. I won’t say another word about her.” He slid her down his rigid frame. “I thought after we’re done here we’d take a short field trip.” “Where to?” she asked and shivered. “To bed.” He leaned down to kiss her.

“You don’t have any clients tonight?” she murmured. Her arms circled his shoulders. “No, and you don’t have to work on the World Tapestry tomorrow.” It was about as close as they’d get to a honeymoon since the night she’d ascended. “So, what do you say?” “I’d love to.” She blushed and ran a finger down his chest. “Can we go to the Goddess’s Grotto?” “Your wish is my command.” Moving his mouth over hers, the warm glow of life infused his body. My love. “Ahem,” Morpheus interrupted them. “Can we move this along? I have a hot date with a filly from the Warrior Glade waiting for me back in the Third Realm.” Niko laughed as he cupped her cheeks in his big palms. He searched Lyra’s face with his steady gaze. “Ready?” His hands fell to her shoulders. She glanced at the building before gazing at him. “I am.” “Then let’s be about it so we can visit the Goddess’s Grotto.” “Tell me you love me.” I don’t need to tell you. You know it. “Scared?” “A little. They think I’m dead.” “Actually, I had Morpheus deliver a message to Mayor Fergus that you were fine and living with me in the Third Realm.” “You did that for them?” “I’m not completely cold and callous.” True, he despised Jacinda, but his wife did not, and there were others who cared about Lyra. “Vigor deserves to know you weren’t dead.” He was also sending the good mayor and the other residents of Strange Hollow the message that Lyra was under his protection. Nothing, not fae-magick or wolf’s bane would separate them. “Thank you. That was sweet.” She rose up on tiptoes. “You’re sweet.” “The hell I am.” Niko couldn’t help sounding offended, he was. “And for the record and any person who would care to notice, I love you, Lyra.” “Time’s a wasting, folks. My filly ain’t gonna wait forever for me,” Morpheus stated. “We have twenty-four hours off. I intend to make the most of them. You should see this filly’s flanks. Whoa and yee ha.” “Sorry, Morpheus.” Lyra licked her lips. She tipped her gaze to meet Niko’s. “I love you too.” “Forever?” “Forever.” He closed his eyes. The sensations he’d felt since her ascension thrummed through his system. “Lyra? Lyra, is that you?” Mayor Fergus’s tone raked along his nerves. “I’ll make this quick,” Lyra assured him. “Thank you, my love.” Lyra ran into Jacinda’s arms. “Do you think she understands exactly how much her addition to the Ethereal Dynamic has changed the Third Realm?” Morpheus asked in a whisper. “No.” Niko shook his head. “Lyra is innocent.” “Your innocent. Your ingénue.” Morpheus clapped him on the shoulder. Niko bit back a smile when Lyra tried to hug Vigor. Her arms passed right through

the ghoul. She was his. His lover. His wife. His destiny. She smiled at him and gave a little shrug as if to say, oh well, I tried. “I’d have her no other way.” The End About the Author: In Belladonna’s formative years, her mother told her, “an imagination is a terrible thing to waste.” That’s what happens when your mother is also an author. In adulthood, life took her in a different direction. She became a professional portrait photographer. Her mother never gave up on her imaginative daughter and finally convinced her to try to write a story. Drawing inspiration from the candid moments that occur in her daytime job, she believes every human being has a story to tell. She writes paranormal, multi-cultural contemporary romance with emphasis on real life cultural divides; historical, fanta-historical and science fiction. When not working on her next story she’s out with friends or kills time with her family, but her camera is never far from her side and the next story never far from her thoughts. Web site: www.belladonnabordeaux.com Facebook: Belladonna Bordeaux Blog: http://bellabeenbad.blogspot.com/

Meet Lsb Authors At The House Of Sin Lsbooks.Net We invite you to visit Liquid Silver Books LSbooks.com for other exciting erotic romances. 2007: Terran Realm Urban fantasy world: TerranRealm.com Featured Series: The Zodiac Series: 12 books, 24 stories and authors Two hot stories for each sign, 12 signs The Coven of the Wolf by Rae Morgan Benevolent lusty witches keep evil forces at bay Fallen: by Tiffany Aaron Fallen angels in hot flight to redeem their wings The Max Series by JB Skully Meet Max, her not-absent dead husband, sexy detective Witt, his mother… And many, many more!