Grave Destinations (6 page)

Angie’s eyes widened as she gasped her final breaths. She opened her mouth and tried to speak, but managed only a high-pitched, inarticulate grunt. Then the spasms ceased, her muscles relaxed, and her body lay limp on the cold ceramic tile.

It took less than two minutes to harvest the girl’s soul. The young were easy, inexperienced, and frightened, their souls desperate to regain some sense of equilibrium. Ruby felt the familiar rush of warmth as Angie’s soul merged with her body, followed by the barrage of emotions from the recently deceased.

What a waste. So young, so full of unrealized potential. All of it thrown away with a careless snort and a two-minute high. Her family would be devastated. Her friends shocked. She’d become a cautionary tale that the neighborhood parents passed on to their children, the beginning of a “Don’t do drugs. Look at what happened to poor Angie” lecture. A joke to her friends who really weren’t her true friends. The same friends who would try to garner sympathy by pretending to be devastated by Angie’s unexpected demise.

“There she is!” The door flew open as the blonde burst back into the ladies room, closely followed by what appeared to be a bouncer and two members of the waitstaff. Behind them was the ship’s doctor, a stocky, middle-aged black man carrying a portable defibrillator and a small brown medical bag.

And Jack.

His eyes met Ruby’s, his expression filled with such sympathy she had to look away.

“I need you all to stay back,” the doctor ordered as he sank down by Angie’s side. He placed the defibrillator beside the girl’s body and began checking her vitals. Wrist. Neck. No pulse. No response. The blonde began to sob while the tiny room buzzed with unchecked speculation. Then Angie’s father stormed through the open doorway and all hell broke loose.

Ruby took the opportunity to fade into the background, to slip through the crowded bar and disappear before anyone started asking questions she preferred not to answer.

Needing fresh air, she headed straight for the nearest exit. With most passengers enjoying the indoor nighttime festivities, the outer decks were fairly deserted. The ocean breeze blew cool and humid, a welcome change from the stench of fresh mortality. Ruby closed her eyes as she leaned against the rail, desperate to clear her head and regain some sense of inner balance.

She could still feel the girl’s soul, struggling to acclimate to its change in condition. Disbelief. Anger. Sadness and despair. The emotions ran fast and strong, taking Ruby on a vicarious roller-coaster ride through the teenage psyche.

After so many years, it still hadn’t gotten any easier to bear. To witness death, to relive it through the memories of the soul. To experience their grief, pain, and suffering. Each one left an indelible mark on her spirit, a tattoo on her soul that could never be erased.

“There you are.”

She’d sensed his presence a split second before he spoke. Part of her was pleased, but she was too tired and emotionally drained to muster much in the way of enthusiasm. She opened her eyes but kept her focus on the dark waters below, preferring to stare at the ocean she so despised rather than face the emotions she feared. “Please, Jack. I apologize, but I’m really not in the mood for company.”

“I can imagine.” Undeterred, Jack moved closer. He held out a tall orange drink with a wedge of pineapple stuck on the side. “After what you just went though, I thought you could use a little something.”

“Thank you.” As a rule, she never accepted drinks from strangers. But after last night she no longer thought of Jack in that capacity. She liked him. Wanted him. A tiny part of her trusted him, and the knowledge knocked her even further off balance. Without another word she sipped from the straw, her taste buds barely registering the sweet infusion of fruit and alcohol.

“It’s taken me a while to figure you out,” Jack said, his tone conversational as he braced his forearms against the smooth wooden rail. He stood close now, so close she could smell the rich, musky fragrance of his aftershave. She took a deep breath and his scent filled her lungs, but she refused to acknowledge the fact that it soothed her weary soul. “It’s been driving me crazy. Ever since I met you, I knew you were something special.”

Ruby slanted a glance in Jack’s direction. If this turned into some cheesy pickup line, she was dumping the drink over his head. “Oh, you think?”

“I know.” He reached over, twining his fingers with hers. His grip was loose yet managed to convey a silent strength she found reassuring. “At first, I thought you might be a witch. Or a faerie.”

A reluctant smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t ride a broom and I’m not packing wings.”

“Good to know.” His thumb gently glided over the back of her hand, the subtle display of affection making her heart beat a little faster than normal. He leaned closer, his shoulder touching hers, his body so warm she had to fight the urge to snuggle up against him. “You did a good thing with that girl tonight, comforting her when you knew she was going to die anyway.”

Ruby shrugged, struggling for nonchalant while she blinked back the threatening tears.
My God, she was practically a baby.
She could only imagine what her parents were going through at this very moment. “What else was I supposed to do? Leave her there on the bathroom floor, all by herself?”

“That’s exactly what a lot of people would have done. But that’s not your way, is it?” He met her gaze then, his brown eyes nearly black in the moonlight. There was an undeniable intensity to his features, mingled with compassion and something else she couldn’t quite fathom. “You’re a passionate woman. It must make your job hell on earth.”

Ruby’s muscles tensed. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do.” When she turned away, he dipped two fingers beneath her chin and turned her head back in his direction. “When we first met, you told me that you were a collector. Now I know what you collect.”

Jack leaned closer, his breath impossibly warm against her ear. His voice rumbled low, rough, when he uttered one word and rocked her world.

“Reaper.”

B
ingo. Got it in one.

“I’ve never met one of your kind before.” The thrill of discovery surged through Jack’s veins. His grip on her hand tightened when she tried to pull away. “But I’ve heard stories over the years. Honestly, I never believed them until now.”

Reaper.
It explained her presence on board a ship she so blatantly despised. For her, this was no pleasure cruise. It was more like a working vacation. He never would have guessed if he hadn’t seen her in action. He’d left his seat to check out the commotion at the back of the bar, only to discover Ruby perched over the young dead girl, her face a mask of unwashed sorrow.

“Wow, you have one heck of an imagination,” Ruby said on the heels of a laugh, but the humor failed to reach her eyes.

No way was he going to let her smooth-talk her way out of this one. “It’s not my imagination, and you damn well know it.” When she tried to pull her hand away again, he tugged her close and said in a low voice, “I’m trying to be discreet here. But if you want me to cause a scene, I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

She shot him an angry glare but kept her mouth shut.

“Come on, admit it. It’s not like I’m going to tell anyone. Besides, no one in their right mind would ever believe me. They’d probably lock me up in some tiny room in the bowels of the ship.”

“That would be my cabin,” she said through clenched teeth.

He laughed, in spite of his building frustration. “In that case, I wouldn’t mind so much.” He caught her gaze, looking deep into those beautiful green eyes. Mixed with the anger, he found a slash of pain that made his heart twist in knots. “Look, I’ve seen a lot of strange things in my travels. It’s how I realized there was something different about you.”

Ruby straightened, a hand propped on her hip. “Oh, so you’re saying I’m strange?”

“What? No!” What the hell was she talking about? Then he realized it was another one of her ploys, a yank of the chain to put him on the defensive and avoid validating his conclusion. She’d slipped free from his grip and made it halfway to the door before he figured it out.

“Nice try,” he said, blocking her path before she had the chance to make her escape. “But it’s not going to work this time.”

Eyes narrowed, she glared at Jack. Then her expression faltered, shifting from anger to despair with an unhealthy measure of exhaustion.

“I can’t . . . I don’t want to talk about this.” She sighed as she closed her eyes and scrubbed a hand across her face. “Aw, hell. Please don’t make me talk about this. Not tonight.”

He wanted to push for answers, for confirmation—the urge nearly overwhelmed him. But then he noticed the uncharacteristic slump in her shoulders, the strain lining her features, and he couldn’t bring himself to push her any further.

“All right, you win. For now. Come on, I’ll walk you back to your cabin,” he said, mentally berating himself for being such a sap. He held out his hand, felt a rush of warmth when her fingers meshed with his. “But don’t think I’m letting you off the hook. This conversation isn’t over.”

“Of course not.”

 

They walked in silence, lost in their thoughts as they descended the stairs to the third floor and Ruby’s cabin.

How on earth could he possibly know? Not knowing the answer was driving her crazy. Over the years she’d been called almost every name in the book, but “reaper” had never made the list until tonight. Mortals weren’t aware of their existence, and everything else steered clear of the agents of Death.

And if that were the case, what did that make Jack?

She darted a subtle glance in his direction. Even now, she sensed his vitality, strong and unyielding, a constant deep rumble showing no signs of weakness.

Mortal, but not quite human.

She hadn’t picked up on it before, hadn’t paid close enough attention to notice the slightly different pitch and tenor to his essence. On the surface it felt distinctly human. But when she sharpened her focus she detected something foreign threaded between the layers of humanity, unknown and unidentifiable.

So if he wasn’t human, then what was he?

Guess she had her own mystery to unravel.

“I’m going on an excursion first thing in the morning, but I want to see you tomorrow night,” Jack said when they reached the door to her cabin. His brown eyes held an unwavering resolve that let her know she wasn’t weaseling her way out of this one. But she also saw kindness, and compassion, and a genuine affection that tugged at her heart. “I mean it. We need to talk.”

“I know.” She let out a weary breath.

His features softened as he lifted a hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Whatever he was, he meant her no harm. “Are you going to be all right?”

Not really.
“Sure.”
Maybe after a drink or two or eight.
She usually wasn’t the type to drown her sorrows in alcohol, but tonight might prove to be an exception. Being pegged as a reaper had left her awkward and off-kilter, a combination she wasn’t accustomed to feeling.

“Liar.” A faint smile warmed his lips.

“Guilty as charged.” She let out a laugh that sounded as hollow as she felt. “Sorry, I’m off my game tonight. I promise to do better tomorrow.”

His hand cupped the side of her face, his thumb stroking lightly against her cheek. Then the smile vanished, and his eyes darkened with desire. “You’ve had a difficult evening,” he said, his voice turning rough. “I’d better go.”

She felt oddly touched by his refusal to press the situation to his advantage. Such acts of chivalry were in short supply these days, a rare quality most women appreciated. But not her, and not after a night like tonight. She slipped a hand around his neck, drawing his head downward. The tension in her muscles eased a bit when the richness of his scent enveloped her, so musky and brooding and undeniably male.

“Kiss me,” she murmured, right before she brushed her lips against his, a brazen invitation she prayed he couldn’t resist. She wanted to forget about the dead girl, the grieving father, and the path of destruction that inevitably trailed in her wake.

He hesitated a heartbeat, right before his mouth came crushing down over hers, finally letting go of that tightly reined control. His lips were smooth and his mouth tasted of the whiskey he’d been drinking, steeped with a heady dose of sensuality that came close to making her whimper.

He pulled back for a moment, his breathing uneven and his eyes heavy-lidded with lust. Then his mouth took hers again at a slightly different angle, a low moan rumbling from deep in his throat.

Oh yes.
One of his hands cupped the back of her head, his fingers tunneling through her hair, the pressure so tight it bordered on pain. But it felt so damn good to be kissed, to be claimed, to feel that delicious tension shudder through his body when her tongue brushed against his.

Tilting his head, he took the kiss deeper. He backed her against the wall, one of his legs wedged between her thighs and the length of his body molded against hers. He was a big man, broad-shouldered and finely muscled, his powerful frame heating her from the inside out. Already, she could feel his arousal pressed firmly against her lower abdomen. She reached around and cupped his ass, grinding her pelvis against him. He made a sound between a groan and a growl, and wetness pooled between her thighs.

“Why don’t we take this inside my cabin?” Ruby asked when she broke the kiss, her heart pounding with anticipation. Her body was flushed, her skin sensitive, aching for his touch and eager for completion. She wanted to feel him—all of him—naked and sweaty, skin against skin, pinning her to the mattress, on top of her, inside her, making her forget about everything but that solitary moment of oblivion. She felt an insistent need to fill the void, to banish the grief and the pain with something far more pleasurable, even if the moment was destined to be fleeting. “Unless you have some strange cruise ship hallway fantasy you care to share.”

He pulled his head back just enough so she could see his eyes, dark and glazed and mindless with hunger. Damn, if that never failed to boost a woman’s self-esteem.

He looked like he was about to say something when his expression faltered, his eyes widening as if something was seriously wrong. Then he squeezed his eyes tight, cursing as he jerked his head away.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head, muttering something too low for her to hear. “Nothing at all.” He took a series of long, deep breaths, his face still turned away from her questioning gaze. When he finally turned back to face her, his expression had changed. Guarded. Tensed.

Fearful.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Jack said with a curt nod, his gaze everywhere but on her.

“Now who’s lying, Jack?” She touched a hand to his jaw, rough with stubble. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” His voice had taken on a touch of frustration, his posture as stiff as a board. He pressed a thumb against his temple, his fingers rubbing his forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m not well. I have to go.”

She watched, dumbfounded, as he turned on his heel and stalked down the hallway without giving her so much as a backward glance.

 

Too damn close.

Another couple of seconds and he would have completely lost control. The sudden surge of power nearly overwhelmed him when Ruby invited him into her cabin. He’d experienced that telltale flicker of vision, the precursor to a full-scale mutiny. It barely gave him enough warning to shore his defenses before the assault.

His stomach churned at the thought of what might have happened if the curse had succeeded. It would have used Ruby’s body to satisfy its most deviant hungers. Consumed her life force until there was nothing left but a shell. He had no idea if reapers were immortal, but even if they were he had no intention of subjecting her to that kind of abuse.

Even now, the curse railed against its bonds, infuriated at Jack for denying it the chance to feast on her sexual energy. It raged against its confines, ravenous, desperate.

Dangerous.

Dammit, he knew better than to wait so long between feedings. The last time this happened it took over Jack’s body while he slept. It was fully entrenched and in command by the time he’d regained awareness in a strange house, with a strange woman.

Doing strange and revolting things. It had taken all of his strength to stop the curse from ending the poor woman’s life.

No. He refused to allow that to happen again.

Jack glanced back toward Ruby’s cabin and felt the curse roar its approval. It would be so easy to take her up on her offer, to slake his lust and feed the curse at the same time. He wanted her so badly his body burned with the need. But the curse’s lust for her rivaled his own, and the fact scared the shit out of him. Knowing what the curse would do to her if given half a chance, he couldn’t afford to lose control in her presence.

So instead he walked the stairs with grim resignation, climbing the steps two at a time until he reached the lido deck. The pulsing beat of music got louder as he neared and grew to deafening by the time he entered Frenesi. He paused, waiting for his eyes and ears to acclimate to his surroundings before venturing into the crowded nightclub.

After a quick trip to the bar, he cruised the area surrounding the dance floor. He sipped his Chivas while his eyes scanned the crowd, sizing up the available prey. Years of practice had made him an effective hunter. Like most predators, he gravitated toward the quick and easy, a willing woman with a healthy libido and flexible morals. It didn’t take long before he zeroed in on a suitable target.

The bubbly brunette was short and curvy, with shoulder-length brown hair and way too much makeup. The cut of her blouse showed off miles of cleavage, her skirt so short it bordered on indecent. She danced with a youthful exuberance, compensating for her lack of rhythm with boundless enthusiasm.

So very different from Ruby, yet exactly what he needed.

The brunette met his gaze, a look of excitement crossing her face when she realized he was watching. Her eyes moved over him, and then she grinned.

Jack forced a smile of his own, hating himself for what he was about to do. It didn’t matter that his actions lay rooted in necessity, to appease his baser nature so he could function like a civilized human being. The cold, hard truth was that he was nothing more than a parasite, feeding on his prey with calculated efficiency. No love or emotion went into the act, just the simple exchange of pleasure for energy. And while he despised his actions, he knew of no other way to keep the curse under control.

The brunette sauntered toward him, her smile wide and her eyes alight.

“I’m surprised to see you here.” She leaned close enough to be heard over the music, and Jack recognized her from the main dining room on the first night of the cruise. Chloe? No, that’s not right. Chloe was the responsible one. The young woman standing before him looked anything but responsible.

Then he remembered. “Jessica, right?”

“The one and only.” She beamed at him, clearly pleased because he remembered her name. “What brings you here tonight?”

“I was looking for you.”

Already, he sensed her arousal, a burst of attraction he had every intention of exploiting. The curse sensed it as well and made another attempt at insurrection, but this time Jack’s emotions were locked up so tight he was able to maintain control.

“Yeah?” Her lips pursed in a pout. “I didn’t think you were interested. You never showed up for body shots.”

Ah, so she wanted to play hard to get. He knew this game better than the back of his hand. Playing along, he moved in closer, ignoring the pungent scent of her perfume. Just one more, he reminded himself. Tomorrow, Jolie Duquette would remove the wretched curse, and he’d never have to demean himself like this again. The knowledge kept him rooted firmly in place, determined to maintain his composure by all means necessary.