I'll say this for Nat Dammet: he put on a funeral like Redemption had never seen. Not only did he make Harold Legg appear regal and wise, in a casket lined with purple velvet, he somehow elevated the magistrate's reputation to almost heroic status. Amazing what an undertaker who's been scared witless can do with a little makeup and some positive gossip.
Although the judge didn't attend services at St. Mary's, Father Dominic gave a glowing eulogy for the man who'd served as "a lighthouse on the town's stormy seas." It was probably the biggest congregation the priest had ever seen, for everyone in town came. But by the time we interred Judge Legg, next to Lucy's fresh grave, the raw wind had people murmuring about the cold…among other things.
"Mighty strange, the way things've been happenin'," the woman in front of me muttered to her husband. "Weren't that long ago when Harry caught Miss Lucy and that Tripplehorn boy goin' at it, and she turned up dead. Now he's gone, too. Somethin' ain't right."
Her man gazed over the crowd, toward the hillside where the mansion once sat. "Yep, cain't put my finger on it, but things is differ'nt, all right. Things ain't what they used to be."
Virgil Furmeister stood like a silent sentinel during the service. Such remarks made him glance my way with a strained expression, as though he blamed me for the incidents in Nat Dammet's work room. In his tight cap and an overcoat that swelled over his belly, he might've been a bowling pin still quivering after one close to him had been struck down by the black ball of fate.
I focused on the priest, intoning his benediction over the open grave. What else could I do? Miss Pink and her two cohorts had always been beyond my control. Hadn't I suffered my share of loss, as well?
I wouldn't whine about losing my home and my lover-my innocence and basic beliefs-to those wicked women, however. These salt-of-the-earth folks suffered no nonsense about vampires. It was against their religion. So Virgil and Nat would be taking the truth about Harold Legg's final moments to their own graves-another dark secret festering beneath the benign surface of this quiet Pennsylvania town.
The crowd dispersed quickly. It was too damn cold for lingering in the cemetery, and the ladies were hostessing a funeral lunch. It would've been the best meal I'd eaten for days, but I passed. Despite the camaraderie of the crowd, I was feeling very much the outsider. Why, I don't know-I'd worked among these people as Alex Moore for more than a decade. Perhaps my sense of alienation was the result of the dual identity I'd hidden behind for so long.
I entered my office, and knew someone had been there: an old brass key on a faded red ribbon awaited me on my desk. An eerie vibration went up my arm when I picked it up. Years of handling wills and estates told me it would open a safety deposit box-but why was it here?
Were Furmeister and Dammet playing a trick? Would there be a nasty surprise related to Harry Legg's death when I opened the box? I had visions of body parts the mortician lopped off, as payment for my role in that episode between Miss Pink and the magistrate-even though I couldn't be held responsible. I considered tucking the key away, until the aftermath of the judge's funeral had worn off, but the prickling at the nape of my neck had me heading for the bank.
I presented the key to Miss Pritchard, and the prune-faced teller nodded her usual greeting. "Number thirteen?" she queried. "My gracious, that box was rented back when we first built the bank. I don't believe it's been opened since."
Constance blinked behind her spectacles, expecting me to elaborate. She'd been the keeper of these keys since she started work here as a young woman.
"Confidential estate business," I stated. "I'll need the little viewing room, please."
"Of course, Mr. Moore." If she noticed I was trembling when she slid the box from its slot into my outstretched hands, she knew better than to remark.
Once the door was shut, I sat down at the small table, my fingers lingering on the box's latch. My gut told me this was a highly personal journey…which might lead to things I didn't want to know. Sometimes our orphans' parents had put personal items in deposit boxes, to be opened upon their deaths. And sometimes our charges-if they survived the three vampires-had been happier before seeing these gifts.
I bit my lip and swung the lid up. The box held the usual assortment of manilla envelopes, but on top of them was a bundle of blue deposit books for First National Bank of Redemption, tied in the same faded red ribbon as the key. I wondered idly if anyplace in the world had a Second National Bank, but that was my nerves racing ahead of my timid fingers.
When I opened the top book, the words ALEXANDREA MOORE, DECEMBER 17, 1875 addressed me in a tidy script. I was six months old then…couldn't imagine who'd started an account in my name. And when I turned to the first page, the single entry made me gasp.
One hundred thousand dollars.
The next deposit book was identical to this first one-as was the next book, and the next. I opened them with my mouth hanging open. The accounts had been set up this way to comply with the bank's insurance, but my Lord, there were EIGHT of them! That meant that with interest accrued over thirty-five years, why-I must have nearly- I couldn't believe the figure my crazed brain came up with! Quickly I retied the ribbon and tucked the books into my suit coat pocket, to review when my sanity returned. With fingers that trembled so hard the old paper tore, I opened the next envelope and my breath caught again. I'd never seen the handsome man smiling at me from the sepia-toned photograph, but God, I knew him. I only had to look into his soft brown eyes, at the way his thick, dark hair defied his comb, before I let out a soft sob.
It was my father.
This, too, I tucked away for later-my heart was beating so hard I had to take several deep breaths to keep from passing out. Thoughts of Constance Pritchard having to revive me kept me focused on the remaining contents of the box.
The next document was the deed for that tract on the hillside…with descriptions of the mansion, the orphanage-which had started as a community school-and the stables. I let out a short laugh. Who would've guessed little Alexandrea owned that estate free and clear before she was a year old? Which meant Pandora, Perfidia or Miss Pink had acquired it-probably by devious means-when she'd done in my daddy. All my life I'd felt like a poor relation, yet I owned the most picturesque property in town!
The last envelope was small, of ivory vellum, and I swore I caught a whiff of ghostly perfume as I pulled out the letter. I unfolded it, read, "My Dearest Alexandrea," and knew it was from my mother. This, too, I slipped into my pocket, before I succumbed to emotional overload. Thanking Miss Pritchard, I retrieved my key and then hurried back to my office. I locked the door.
Brandy from the flask in my back room filled a snifter: this would be no ordinary revelation. For thirty-five years I'd wondered who I was and where I'd come from; now, after losing everything and everyone that mattered to her, Alexandrea Moore was about to find herself. The liquor pooled hot and sweet in my stomach. I propped the likeness of my father on my desk, and then unfolded my mother's letter with hands that could barely hold the pages.
My Dearest Alexandrea, it began in a cursive flourish, by the time you read this you'll be grown and I'll be gone. I hope you'll understand how circumstances surrounding your birth made it necessary for me to remain anonymous, so you could grow into a woman who makes her own choices and chooses her own fate.
As I look at you now, so beautiful in your bassinet, I envision wonderful things! I vow to watch over you forever, even when you believe I've gone. I'm looking over your shoulder, smiling at you and your father, as you read this.
Gooseflesh sprang up my spine. As I glanced around my dim office, I felt a presence-but whose? I had the overwhelming urge to turn the page and read the signature, but this woman's secret seemed too precious to spoil with a moment's impatience.
"Come on now-show yourself!" I challenged aloud.
Silence, except for my own breathing. So I read on:
That handsome man in the photograph is your father, the dashing Alexander Moore, Earl of Lustingworth. He was slain last week in a most gruesome attack, by a wicked woman who shall remain unnamed. This has left me unwed with a baby, at the tender age of fourteen-disowned by my scandalized family. Joining Alex in death seemed my best alternative, so I begged his assailant to take me, as well…but Fate was kinder to us than that. A woman you'll know as Pandora has taken us under her wing.
I wheezed, reaching for more brandy.
Have you pieced the puzzle together yet, dear Alexandrea? Pandora preserved Alexander's fortune before it could be seized (well, all right-she smuggled it out of England!). She has also forced your father's murderer to remain in her service until you find the happiness you deserve. While I cannot guess how old you'll be, I have no doubt she'll remain your advocate and sponsor, and that she'll hold us all to our pact: once we leave you to your rightful life in this mortal world, we will never interfere or intercede again.
So, as you read this, you are a free and independent woman, blessed with a special upbringing. I love you more than I can say, Alexandrea. I hope you'll understand what I've done in your behalf, and I pray you'll find a man as special and devoted to you as the one I named you for.
Follow your heart, darling. It's the one thing I've done that I never regretted.
I glanced at the signature, my eyebrows rising. How incongruous the name Evangelica Halliburton sounded-and how mature the letter's tone was-when I considered the spritelike redhead who'd written it! She'd been a serious young lady who probably fell for a man she couldn't have, and he died before he could help her. The immortality Pandora offered tempted Miss Pink's romantic nature…and became a way to pester Perfidia forever, for killing her lover.
I had to smile: I was the love child of an Earl and the girl who fell head over heels for him-and then fell into the fountain of eternal youth. Much better than believing I'd been an inconvenience to some loveless couple.
P. S. Your father nicknamed me after the color of my- A pounding on the door brought me out of my trance. "Moore! Open up!" a familiar male voice demanded. "We's got somethin' important to talk about."
I wanted to stay still and let Furmeister go on his way, except I heard others out there with him. I stuffed the bank books and Pink's letter into my desk drawer before I opened the door.
Not surprising that Nat Dammet stood beside the deputy, hugging himself against the cold, but Father Dominic was the last man I expected to see with that nefarious pair.
"Let me light the lamps. I-dozed off at my desk," I fibbed as the trio entered. "Quite a day we've had, laying the magistrate to rest. The end of an era for Redemption."
The men looked at each other as though I'd said something astoundingly prophetic. "Matter of fact," Dammet began, "we've come to discuss that very subject with you, Counselor. Since we are the county seat, where court cases from outlying areas are tried, it behooves us-"
"We's thinkin' you'd wanna be the next judge." Virgil shivered beneath his overcoat, as though spitting out this suggestion had taken all his nerve.
I wondered if he and Nat were trying to keep me quiet about their unconventional sex play, or about the way Harry Legg met his Maker. That idea didn't make much sense with the priest standing here, however-and it was he who articulated further.
"You see," said Father Dominic, adjusting his steel-rim spectacles, "we all realize you are eminently qualified for the position. Your living here makes it a convenient choice, of course, but we also see this as an opportunity for progress, after so many years with an…older magistrate."
"Yeah, an' who knows what sorta old coot the State might appoint?" Virgil chimed in again. "Whadaya say, Alex? You're the man for us, if ya wants the job!"
"I-well, this is totally unexpected!" This proposition would mean a promotion-an opportunity to foster change and a more progressive atmosphere-for the right man. Which presented a problem I couldn't exactly discuss with them.
I smiled as I firmly shook their hands. "I'm honored to receive this invitation," I replied. "May I give you my decision in a day or so? This isn't an offer to be taken lightly, considering my other professional obligations."
Their faces fell, for which I was grateful. I'd never considered myself noteworthy-except that I was the only lawyer living here. How gratifying, to learn these men wanted me to serve in a more responsible capacity.
As I showed them to the door, however, my mind whirled with the complications that sitting on Redemption's bench would pose. This little burg was NOT ready for a female magistrate! Nor was I inclined to forego my true identity for the next several years…what a constant effort, to maintain myself as a male, once I was on display in the courthouse. And to accept the job without admitting my gender would make me an impostor of the highest kind.
And-considering the eight little bank books I'd just opened-I could live like a proverbial queen without ever working another day in my life! What a liberating thought!
I grabbed my coat, needing to clear my head with a walk-vowing I would NOT venture near the mortuary. I'd learned who my parents were only moments ago, and had come into a considerable fortune without lifting a finger, so I had a lot of mental sorting out to do.
The moon beamed serenely in the night sky, casting the common homes and surroundings in an ethereal, magical light. A cold wind clicked in the icy trees, and my steps fell into a quick, purposeful rhythm. Perhaps I should've refused the magistrate's position immediately-sent those three men on their way before they could ask any questions. But that would only postpone the inevitable revelations about a past that had vanished like a vampire. And if they found out I was a woman, I'd be out on my ass in a heartbeat.
I'd raise enough eyebrows cashing in my inheritance-or just a part of it-because even the decorous Miss Pritchard couldn't keep my secret if I bankrupted the bank! Everyone would be happy I'd discovered my parents, and that they'd left me a fortune like the kind in fairy tales. But if they learned my mother was a vampire- This thought stopped me in my tracks. Even though Evangelica Halliburton had become Miss Pink after my birth, I couldn't discuss the orphanage that no longer sat on the hillside, nor the creatures who'd played a part in Redemption's everyday life for years. Those who feared vampires would have me constantly looking over my shoulder-and those who didn't believe in such creatures would get me committed. Even if Miss Pink had erased the memories of those Gypsies and that fateful evening with Judge Legg, the deputy and Dammet would rescind their offer if they had an inkling I was related to that femme fatale…
I found myself on the other side of town, in sight of the Redemption Cemetery. By the light of that full, pale moon the tombstones glowed and the ice-coated trees seemed to whisper my name in the wind. While I was determined to steer clear of the mortuary, I sensed an entirely different force drawing me through the iron gates of the graveyard.
I told myself there was nothing to fear: no one else would be visiting at this late hour. The people here were dead! Resting in peace! Yet my pulse raced in a way that was anything but peaceful. I really, really didn't want to be walking here, yet my legs took me of their own accord.
An unexpected movement made me cry out. From the shadow of an ancient oak stepped a mysterious man, clad in a silk top hat and a cape that draped alluringly around his athletic form.
"Alexandrea! I've been waiting, my dear."
Whose voice was that? I couldn't utter a sound-much less turn around and run! In the eerie light, I couldn't be sure he had form and substance. He emanated an oddly Continental air…seemed dangerous yet downright dashing. Was it the ghost of my father, the Earl of Lustingworth? Come to introduce himself, now that I knew the truth?
He extended his arm with a sleek male grace befitting a panther. His white gloves glowed in the rising mist, and his gold-headed walking stick tapped out a haunting song as he slowly walked my way.
He was nearly upon me, and still I couldn't speak-couldn't move, except to step backwards. He knew me as Alexandrea, rather than Alex Moore, so I dropped all pretense at being a male able to defend myself. His hat angle hid his face: I could see only his chiseled lips and chin…and a smile that would beguile me if I stared long enough.
When he raised his arms-did he wish to kiss me or kill me?-that fascinating cape flared open. Its flame-red lining glimmered like coals of the Devil's own fire and I cried out, caught up in an imagination fueled by the vampires who'd raised me. My scream bounced between the trees. I beheld his bottomless black eyes-and then there was silence- And I lost myself in a kiss that stole my very soul. Beneath that seductive cape, the air felt almost tropical-or was it a blast from hell?-but with this man's lips locked over mine, and his muscled body holding me against a tree, I could only whimper and face my fate.
My God, this man could kiss! His tongue danced with mine, and his hands had found their way beneath my clothing. As my trousers slithered down, I sank deeper into his spell. What a fantasy, to relinquish control to an oh-so-perfect stranger…to feel the need in those gloved hands as they cupped my breasts. After the day I'd had, I deserved to be ravished by some otherworldly lover!
He held me to the tree with that magical mouth, running a hand over my feverish body while he unfastened his pants. His belt buckle clinked. I glanced beneath his fire-lined cape to behold a stunning body-and the most prodigious cock I'd ever seen.
"Billy!" I squealed. "My God, I-"
"Took you long enough." He pinned me fiercely to the tree. "You would've let some total stranger grope you this way?"
His midnight eyes riveted mine and I had no answer. His face, as dusky and handsome as I remembered, was limned with a lust every fiber of my being responded to. I had no choice! While he was the same magnificent Billy Tripplehorn I'd taken away from Lucy Legg, he was different somehow. Man, yet animal. Familiar, yet filled with an elemental power I'd never felt before.
And why would I have expected him to show up in formal attire, looking decidedly debonair and European?
I licked my lips, desperate to answer him. "After the way you abandoned me-again!-I thought you'd never be back. And I-I was afraid Perfidia had killed you."
"Do I kiss like a dead man?"
Only when I saw the flicker of his grin did I laugh. And when Billy joined me, I felt the prodding of that eager erection against my middle. It made the heat between us surge all over again, and before I knew what he'd done, Tripplehorn scooped me up so my legs splayed in surprise. He paused with his thick head at my entry, wetting himself with my dew…making me wait…
"Do you love me, Alexandrea?" he whispered, his tone teasing yet utterly serious as he gazed into my eyes. "Will you be my woman? Forever?"
"Lord, yes-I've loved you since-"
I cried out with his surge of passion, even more excruciating than I remembered before. What a sight we must've made there in the graveyard, rutting against that tree beneath the cover of his shimmering cape! But I was too filled with Billy Tripplehorn to care. My hips thrust to meet his every plunge. We were going at it like beasts in the wild, oblivious to decorum and the weather. All I knew was that I felt complete at last-not to mention ready to explode with heat and white light and excitement.
At my first convulsion, Billy drove deep. I quivered, lost in my climax, glad for the padding of my overcoat and those strong arms that kept me from falling to the ground. With a grunt, he shot me so full of cream it splattered onto his pants. Still he pumped me, as though driven by some force even he couldn't identify, until I clenched my teeth to keep from blacking out from another orgasm.
Billy rested against me then, until he caught his breath. Then he tweaked my mustache. "We've got to stop meeting like this, Mr. Moore. If folks find out, you'll never practice law in this town again."
He was teasing me, of course, but I wanted answers. I suspected there was more to this Billy Tripplehorn than the one I'd known before, and that he'd dance around my questions unless I kept him…naked.
"That's exactly why I believed you'd never come back," I said sadly. "When I saw the disgust on your face, when you discovered these male clothes in Andrea's closet, I knew I'd lost you."
"Oh, no. I'd have been back." He settled against me so we could talk seriously-if that's possible when two lovers are still joined at the hip, dripping. "I realized Perfidia was using her wiles against you while I was weakened, and frankly, your dual identity was what fascinated me most. Gave me something to puzzle over as I…regained my strength."
"But I took you to the mansion under false pretenses! And then I deceived you again about who I really was-"
"I was too damn cocky to thank you then, but you saved me from claiming Lucy Legg's baby," he replied, gently stroking my cheek. "I've come to realize what a strong, versatile woman you are, Alexandrea. And after all, I let Alex uh, handle me, on that first ride to the house. He had a grip on my situation long before I did."
Where had this humility come from? This profound gratitude? Mr. Tripplehorn was a changed man-but that didn't mean I'd surrender to him. It would take more than this wild, abandoned coupling to make us a couple in the way he seemed to want now.
"I'm really pretty ordinary, Billy."
"A lady lawyer who's outfoxed the magistrate-and everyone else-is hardly ordinary, sweetheart." His smile waxed boyish, enough that I noticed how his even, white teeth caught the moonlight. "You've got to have some smarts to triumph in the courtroom, and also manage the orphanage, and I admire that. Your father would be proud."
How did he know…?
I didn't want these unsettling details to derail my train of thought, so I pressed on. "Billy, I saw the way you responded to Pandora and Pink and Perfidia! Those vixens had you coming on command-doing aerial acrobatics, for Pete's sake! I'm just a boring little mortal."
"But you don't bite," he replied ruefully. "Perfidia gets a man's blood pumping, all right, but that's not what I have in mind when I want a woman to suck me. I almost didn't make it back to you."
I stroked the long, strong column of his neck. He was still young and strong as a bullmoose, even in these refined clothes. "So where did you go? How did you recover?"
"Who says I did?"
Once again he flashed his wicked grin, and I saw those white, even teeth…inscisors I'd never particularly noticed before.
Billy kissed me-a diversionary tactic-but I let it pass. "Let's just say there was some magic worked in my behalf. Call it an attitude transfusion."
He pulled something from his pocket then-a tarot card of The Lovers. "Pandora whisked me off to her villa in Italy to recuperate. Convinced me to make the most of myself, so I could be equal to loving YOU, Andrea."
Was I still hearing little hints between the lines? I sighed, wondering how to make Billy see our reality through his own, earthy eyes rather than Pandora's.
"Billy, I adore you, and the Three P's have the best intentions-mostly. But I'm not sure this'll work. You're a hot-blooded young stud, and here I am, at thirty-five-"
"So it's damn well TIME you had a lover like me making you scream! You're hitting your sexual prime, Miss Moore. You deserve a man who can handle that."
He kissed me again, running the tip of his tongue around my lips-another effective diversion. The change in this young guttersnipe went deeper than his elegant clothing, it seemed. But if he'd been to Pandora's villa-a seaside haven I'd heard her reminisce about-had she'd been coaching…
"I hear Alex Moore's to be the next magistrate," Billy said matter-of-factly.
"NO! I'm through acting like a man!"
"So only wear these clothes until you're sworn in, and then show everyone who you really are!" he said with a chuckle. "Who could've dreamed Redemption would have a female on the bench?! I, for one-"
"It would never work, Billy."
"Why not?" He seemed genuinely appalled at my attitude. "You've got the legal expertise-the experience-and think of the fun we'd have in court! I could crouch under your chair and slip my head under that black robe. What a scandal, to learn the new magistrate wears nothing under it!"
"Pandora obviously gave you some sort of magic potion-"
"A love potion, Andrea," he crooned. "With the money we've got, we could build a big house on that hill. We could have a French maid like Cerise-who sends her regards, by the way. And I could be your love slave, Andrea. There's something to be said for a life of service and devotion…"
My mouth hung open. I was SO tempted to agree to anything this sweet-talker asked…but what if this was some evil trick Perfidia had devised? For all I knew, she and the other two vamps were eavesdropping-I couldn't believe they would abandon me, forever. And it would be just like that blonde bitch to reel me in again, using Billy for bait. He was too good to be true.
My heart turned into lead as I looked at him. But I'd led him down the primrose path twice before, so I had to act responsibly. "You've painted a pretty picture, but I can't live in it. Goodbye, Billy. You really should go now."
"Well, that's a fine how-do-you do!" he snapped, letting my feet hit the ground. "The Alexandrea who had balls enough to yank me out of Lucy's arms and then stand up to her daddy wouldn't be such a nay-sayer. But thank you anyway. You gave me a whole new life, in more ways than you know."
As Tripplehorn strode away, I felt my whole future going up in the mist of a vanishing vampire-like the smoke from Perfidia's infernal cigarette. And, as though he'd heard my thoughts, Billy turned around. Damned if he wasn't holding that black stiletto she'd never been without, lighting a small cheroot so I could see what my doubts and disbelief had cost me.
There was only one way Billy could be sporting Perfidia's favorite possession.
"We could've traveled through time-could've done any damn thing we pleased, Andrea." He inhaled, and then blew his smoke into a ring that framed his disappointed face. "There's a whole new world out there beyond Redemption, and now that Perfidia's been destroyed, I wanted to show you a life without limits. A sweet freedom like you can't imagine. But you're not ready."
I had a sudden vision of a fire to rival Armageddon; could hear Perfidia's screams above the licking of the flames. "I gave you eternal youth," she cried to her tormentor. "Saved you from the ravages of menopause! And this is how you thank me, you little shit!"
"You betrayed my Andrea and nearly killed Billy!" came the shrill reply. "Dying this quickly is way too good for you, Perfidia!"
My mouth dropped open when I realized Miss Pink-my mother!-had snared the blonde bitch with her own portable prison, set her gown afire, and then shoved Perfidia out into the bright light of day. My heart was pounding with pride and excitement, for Pink had risked her life by so boldly disposing of the vampire who'd been a thorn in all our sides.
Then I shuddered, and when the vision cleared I saw Billy striding away from me, toward a magnificent carriage pulled by four ebony Percherons. When I realized their hooves weren't touching the ground…saw the cemetery gates right through his translucent driver…I knew Tripplehorn had provided me that vision of Perfidia's passing.
And I knew how.
I swallowed hard. The man I loved had offered me a whole new definition of "always," and I'd turned him away for all the wrong reasons. While I could stay here and live like a queen-or a magistrate, if I got desperate for entertainment-what point would there be if I were alone? The only other man even vaguely eligible for my affections was Nat Dammet, and after he discovered Alex was really an Andrea, who knew what might happen? I'd seen how he treated the other woman who turned on him.
Billy spoke briefly to his driver, who was opening the carriage door for him. He was so beautiful in the moonlight, draped in that splendid cape-which Pandora had probably kept as a memento, from a lover in her lengthy past-that tears ran down my cheeks. I would never forget this moment, this last look at the man who'd changed every life that touched mine- "Billy!" I cried, tugging up my trousers. "Billy, wait!"
But he shut the door, and the driver vaulted nimbly into the seat with a whistle to his team. They took off without a sound.
Utter panic made me step out of my pants to run after them, hollering at the top of my lungs. Something told me Nat Dammet and Virgil Furmeister came around a corner just in time to see Alex Moore running down the street, exposing a feminine backside as he chased…absolutely nothing, that they could see.
"Billy, please!" I hollered. "I don't want to live without you! Take me away from here!"
By some miracle, just as I sensed my race was lost, a masculine hand reached out the window of this mirage. I latched onto it with my last ounce of strength…felt myself leaving the ground…floating above the trees and the snow-covered rooftops, toward the moon. And in the wink of an eye, I was inside that carriage, straddling Billy's lap.
"Can't live without me, you say?" His gaze wandered between my splayed legs. "My, my, how the tables have turned since it was ME getting caught with my pants down."
"Stop gloating!" I rasped, but I couldn't help laughing. He'd taken off that top hat, and those unruly brown waves framed a face that looked even more drop-dead dangerous than when he'd made me a woman. "You knew damn well I couldn't resist your-Pandora must've schooled you in such courtly decorum! She gave you these clothes, too-to seduce me."
"Whatever you say, my dear. It worked, didn't it?"
Then Billy waxed more serious. "You now realize that she kept me alive the only way she could, after Perfidia attacked me. It was my own choice, however, to change. And you, Andrea, will remain safely mortal, too, unless you sincerely wish to be transformed."
He smiled, as though privy to an inside joke. "The only difference between 'immoral' and 'immortal' is a T, my sweet-and I'll help you cross it whenever you're ready. But for now, take a look."
My gaze went out the window, where the town of Redemption lay sleeping beneath a blanket of snow. I turned for a last good look at it…feeling the very real jostling of the carriage, hearing the creak of its leather seat as Billy leaned closer to look out with me. And there was no mistaking the warm, inquisitive finger he insinuated into my slit.
Yet it was a dream-wasn't it?-to be flying blithely across the night sky, over the site where a mansion and three lethal ladies had once existed.
"You know, from this angle, those hillsides of Redemption resemble a pretty little ass, with a ribbon of road running along its crack."
He said this with the gravity of a great philosopher…so I let him believe he was the first person to notice this lewd resemblance. "You're incorrigible, Tripplehorn! Beyond redemption," I teased.
I gasped as he got behind me, prodding me with that long, lovely cock. As he entered me, oh so slowly, those smooth, lethal teeth grazed the nape of my neck. I swore I heard Miss Pink giggling from somewhere out there.
"Yes, I am-beyond redemption," he breathed. And as he drove his point home, he stuck our heads out the carriage window so we had more room to rut. "That's where I'd love to take you, too, sweet Andrea. Shall we go?"
What could I say? I was already gone.