Netherworld: Drop Dead Sexy(74)

“Yes, now, do it now!” he yelled just before emitting a long, loud groan. He pulsed hugely in my channel, and the blinding spark in my belly expanded into a starburst of elation. Dan’s hand moved from my shoulder to my throat, gripping the slender column.

As my lower parts throbbed, the slight pressure on my throat took me to a dark, moonlit place beneath the trees.





The sweet pull of the demanding mouth leeched from the punctures his fangs had made in my throat. The other wounds, rendered painless by his glamour, poured my life out. He didn’t drink from them, probably because he’d sullied those fountains with his spunk. He didn’t want the proper openings of a woman. He’d declared them diseased. So he’d made new ones for his use, laughing as I screamed in helpless horror.

Dank air, the rotting smell of vegetation, a sense of terror mixed improbably with exaltation. His skeletal hand closed around my throat, cutting off the last of the air I barely took in. And the cold, dead voice that held me prisoner spoke the last words I would hear as one of Earth’s breathing creatures.

“He said, ‘Why are the strumpets the ones who taste best?’”

Dan’s voice came through the gloom. “Who said that?”

I came back to the library. Dan stood over me, the glaze of orgasm disappearing from his chocolate brown eyes. He slid my ankles off his shoulders and leaned close. His hands gently cupped my face.

“Brandilynn, who told you that?”

I blinked. “The monster who killed me. Just as I was slipping away, he stopped feeding long enough to ask me that.”

“He called you a strumpet? Who in the hell says strumpets these days?”

I remembered who. Heaven help me, I remembered the whole night of horror now, from the appearance of the vampire in Todd Spaulding’s house, to his eyes capturing me. I remembered Todd calmly tying the bedsheet off, climbing over the railing and dropping over it. He hadn’t died quickly. The vampire made me watch my customer slowly strangle to death, his gurgled screams fading as the sheet tightened gradually with his weight.

I remembered flying through the night in the cold arms of the monster, of landing on top of a shack in the swamp. The brutal, inhuman rape and not being able to defend myself in any way. How afterward my mind screamed, verging on madness even as I trembled with eager anticipation of his bite. And the slow, fading death as he sucked every drop of life from my body.

I remembered it all and wanted to go insane.

Anger saved me. Raw fury erupted at having my life ended at the hands of the monster who hated me simply because I was a woman who bartered her body for money. I wanted him to pay.

I hadn’t been a terribly good person, morally speaking. But I’d never killed anyone. I’d never cheated anyone out of anything. And I’d had dreams, dreams that included leaving being an escort behind. Given time, maybe I would have worked past my issues with commitment. Found a nice man. Married. Had children.

The bastard had stolen those opportunities from me. And I’m very much an eye-for-an-eye gal.





I pushed against Dan, forcing him to let me up off the desk. Ready to do battle, I wore the military-like outfit Linda Hamilton stomped around in the movie Terminator 2. I didn’t have the oversized gun she’d kicked butt with, but that was okay. I was going to find that long-toothed jerk’s carcass and stake him out in the sun. No bullets required.

“Dan, let’s go to the police station.” He’d never believe who the Ripper was, so I had to rub his nose in the evidence. He had to see for himself.

My Marlboro Man frowned. “I’m not so sure you should leave the protection of the library. Why are you dressed like that?”

I waved at him impatiently. “It’s daylight now. I’ll be fine. Come on Dan, I want to show you something.”

He regarded me uncertainly, but seeing my resolve, he finally nodded. “Okay, okay, but I’m driving. Your aim still isn’t that good.”

“Whatever,” I tried to say, but we were already in transit.

A few minutes later, we were standing in front of the dry erase board in the empty homicide division of Fulton Falls’ Police Department. Everyone was apparently out solving crimes and saving the innocent citizenry of my hometown.

Nothing much had changed except the addition of the latest victim’s picture and notes scrawled about the crime scene. But I didn’t need to see any of this. Dan did.

He scowled as he looked over the notes. “Damn it, Brandilynn.”

I gave him a look, and he rolled his eyes.

“Excuse me. Will darn it make you happy? If you remember something important, spill already.”

I pointed at the scribbles made by Agents Neuhaus and Heany. “Look at the characteristics of the killer. Older vamp. Hates women. They got the bit about him being unknown to Tristan wrong though. Everyone knows the Ripper. He’s been here long enough to be comfortable to hire Erica and her ghoul squad.”