"Furmeister!" a familiar voice called from the front office. "The crew's here to construct the gallows for Tripplehorn, so-"
His Honor, Harold Legg, gaped at us from the doorway. "What the hell kind of game is this, Virgil? You're supposed to be supervising-I have a funeral to-"
He stared at me, his face growing paler. Without his powdered wig and billowing black robe, Harry looked old and ordinary: his black suit hung limply on his frame, and a halo of fuzz, like the down on a baby duck, framed his pate. The lines on his face were etched more deeply today.
His large hands gripped and released at his sides…hands that had encircled his daughter's neck? I had a vision of Lucy's body being shaken until it hung limp like a rag doll-but that didn't explain the tooth marks. Harold Legg had indeed sucked the lifeblood from many a petty criminal's career, but he'd done it in broad daylight, with the power of his position.
"I don't have time for these shenanigans, Deputy," he snapped. "Where's Billy?"
Our situation wasn't funny, but I swallowed a laugh. The potbellied lawman had fastened his fly and prepared his story for this moment of truth. But how could he explain that three Gypsies had charmed the pants off him, locked him in his own jail, and then spirited his prisoner away? The truth, no matter how plainly and sincerely told, would never convince the magistrate who grew more irate by the second.
"The Gypsies took him, Your Honor."
"Gypsies? What the hell did Etta put in your coffee?" When the judge stepped closer, his eyes looked bloodshot and I heard a slight waver in his voice. "For chrissakes, Virgil, this is no time for-"
"With all due respect, sir," Furmeister blustered, wiping his brow with his shirt sleeve, "I'm tellin' ya three purty ladies-wearin' nothin' but see-through suits-come in here durin' the wee hours, and they-well, I hate to say it, but you would've fallen for the same-"
"Cut the crap! You can't tell me three women bamboozled you into that cell and then made off with Tripplehorn!" Legg turned sharply on his heel. "I'm going to fetch the key-"
"They took that, too, Your Honor."
Virgil Furmeister made a sorry sight, shaking like an overgrown rabbit in a blue uniform. His Adam's apple bobbed with a hard swallow when his boss wheeled around again in disbelief.
"They WHAT? Why do you think for one FUCKING minute that I'll believe-"
When the agitated magistrate broke off for air, I cleared my throat. "Incredible as it sounds, Mr. Furmeister's telling you exactly what happened. I saw it all myself! And I certainly didn't intend to get locked up as part of their escapade!"
The Judge's face lengthened into the weasel mask he wore when he was sorely displeased…or rendering a creative interpretation of the law. "And who might you be, Miss-?"
I glanced at the floor, feigning humility. "It's been years, Your Honor, so I can understand why you don't remember me as one of Miss Lucy's first nannies. When I heard she was dead, I hurried in here to see if the rumor was true-to get a good look at the man you had locked up. But three women had turned the front room into a-a circus!"
Legg crossed his arms, his gaze unwavering. "And what exactly were they doing to my deputy?"
I glanced furtively at Virgil, whose expression now resembled the grey-green clouds that precede a tornado. Since I couldn't show myself as Alex Moore in the immediate future, I had to keep a few secrets for Furmeister, in hopes he'd do the same for me. "They were dancing, Your Honor-with such lewd and promiscuous moves that I believe they drugged his coffee! That must be how they were able to roll him back here on his chair, snatch his keys, and escape before he could overpower them. They say Gypsies know a thousand ways to distract a victim while taking advantage of him!"
The magistrate rolled his eyes. From outside came the ominous pounding of nails into lumber…the scaffolding and gallows designed to bring Billy Tripplehorn to swift justice and stand as an example to Redemption's other errant souls.
"Your story's no better than his, but that doesn't unlock these cells, does it?" he said peevishly. "I'm already late for my dear Lucy's funeral, so I'll just have to leave you two locked-"
I was rummaging in my reticule, to remedy this very predicament. "Try this, Your Honor. I have a buttonhook…and…a long, sturdy hairpin. Perhaps one of them will trip the locks."
He didn't ask how I might know this-so I didn't have to lie about my tiptoed trip into the front office, about an hour ago, when Furmeister finally dozed off. As I'd anticipated, I found a signed statement of Billy's guilt in the murder of Lucinda Legg on the deputy's messy desk-a document so falsified, the lawyer in me couldn't walk away without it. I could say those obnoxious Gypsies had made off with that, too, of course. Women so intent on rescuing the town stud would leave no evidence behind.
Legg was feverishly poking the buttonhook into the keyhole of his deputy's cell, twisting and lifting for the give of the tumbler. I watched him from between my iron bars, keeping an intense innocence on my face. After all, I'd jimmied the lock much faster myself while standing behind it! Finally we heard a dull click, and the two men exhaled their relief.
"Now, get your ass outside and be sure they tie that noose right!" the magistrate rasped. "No more mistakes! And not a word about Billy being gone, for God's sake! Just FIND him!"
Out the door he strode, my buttonhook in his hand. A nervous Virgil Furmeister followed him like a puppy, yapping about tracing the Gypsies' trail in the snow and other such nonsense. The only trail that overblown oaf could follow was the aroma of fresh pie coming from Etta's oven. Never mind about the bereaved nanny still stuck in the other damn cell!
I was smiling, however. Just waiting for their voices to fade through the front entrance…waiting for the stuffy little jailhouse to ring with silence after a night that defied description for all of us. Then I slipped through the cell door I'd left unlocked, careful not to let its hinges squeal on me.
I could only hope I'd learned enough by staying behind, risking my own future credibility, to clear Billy's name. As I blended with the back alley's shadows to reach my office again, the sight of that noose was a bleak reminder that, like the card in Pandora's tarot deck, Lady Justice balanced her scales in one hand-but wielded a terrible, swift sword with the other.
I had to do the prudent thing, before Billy and I got slashed with that weapon.
For nearly three hours I worked on files in my office with the lights off-long enough to watch from behind my closed curtains as Judge Legg and Nathaniel Dammet left the cemetery, but not long enough for the magistrate to start after Billy Tripplehorn. Quietly, still dressed in Andrea's dress and heavy cloak, I drove the buggy down the back alleys to the other side of town. I coaxed Dory into a canter when we reached the road.
Bless the little mare, she understood the urgency of my mission. We followed the meandering road through a countryside still dusted with snow, beneath a leaden sky that promised more by day's end. I shivered beneath my cloak, but as the orphanage and ivy-covered mansion came into view, it was more than mere weather chilling me to the core.
Had Pandora, Pink, and Perfidia spared Billy-three playful pusses toying with a new mouse? Or had they converged on him without mercy, to enslave him with their deadly passions? They would remind him, of course, that his eternal devotion was the least he owed them, for saving him from Judge Legg's noose-or even from the stranglehold Lucy would've caught him with, had she lived. They were a special, splendid trio of queens, but they expected a man's all in return for their favors!
Over the centuries of their combined existence, the Three P's had seduced millions of dollars from suitors who were literally dying to meet them, so they no longer pursued moneyed men to insure their survival. No, in this present incarnation, they'd taken on a godlier mission in the orphanage-although that came down to vanity, really: they believed the blood of younger, untainted victims would prolong their youthful beauty. It assuaged their occasional twinges of social conscience, spending that old blood money to feed and clothe unwanted children. And it gave them a sense of purpose, however skewed, that convinced them they had every right to indulge their more hedonistic whims, as well.
Hence, their foray into town last night-the first I'd known of in years-was for the pleasure of duping Virgil Furmeister, and to bring Billy back as their prize. I couldn't dispute their taste, for Tripplehorn was a prime morsel indeed. And right now, at midday, he was safe from their clutches.
I wondered again, however, what they'd done with him when they got him home…just how far they planned to take him…how deeply they intended to sink their shimmering teeth to keep him in their thrall-and to ruin any chance I might have at a normal relationship. They knew, of course, that if Billy lured me away from their nether nest, they'd be hard pressed to replace their link to the natural, living world-the liaison who saved them from their ancient roles as predators constantly on the hunt.
It was no pretty business, being a vampire.
And it was no easy feat, juggling my duality to maintain the luxury they now enjoyed, in these wooded hills beyond Redemption. I sensed, as I parked the buggy and settled Dory into the stable, that the delicate balance keeping the living and the undead in their rightful spheres was being tested every second. Billy Tripplehorn could well be the nugget that tipped the scales-especially with the magistrate pinning Lucy's murder on him.
I stepped through the back service entrance, pausing to get a sense of any new secrets these old walls had witnessed. While I could not listen in on others' thoughts or coax them to go my way, as the three Sisters did, I had developed a knack for knowing when things had gone awry. Pink, Perfidia and Pandora weren't really such a bloodthirsty lot-they just had to eat, like the rest of us. And their need to feed was the axis upon which our entire world rotated. When I heard a giggle and the furtive slap of flesh upon flesh, I relaxed.
A peek into the parlor revealed Cerise-completely out of uniform-clearing away cups from bedtime refreshments. In reality, she was wagging her pretty ass at Justin and his brother as she leaned over the low table. Not ones to ignore such an invitation, the blond twins moved to either side of her to fondle a pert breast with one hand while smacking her backside with the other. The dishes in her hands rattled, and her face tightened with the effort it took not to drop them, but she seemed in no hurry to stand up straight again.
Smack! went the hand on one side, punctuated by the maid's laughter, and then smack! came the answering slap from the other. I hated to interrupt their fun, but they carried on this way for hours when the Sisters weren't supervising them.
I cleared my throat to alert them to my presence. "Where's Billy?"
Cerise cocked her head, looking my direction. "Upstairs asleep, cherie."
I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "And the Sisters have fed, and are resting peacefully?"
Justin and Jeremy nodded, fixing me with the glazed look of those held in that hypnotic limbo brought on by vampires who'd spared their lives but enslaved them. It was best for all of us that our maid-who was no more French than I, but had been convinced by Pandora to behave that way-and her two cohorts lived in a trance that enabled them to pick out the Sisters' living dinner and then dispatch the remains. This saved me the horrible heartache of sorting through the children, and kept Pandora, Perfidia, and Pink in a rosy state of satiation. And when those three ladies were happy, everyone was happy!
"You are exhausted, Mademoiselle," the maid continued with a concerned pucker of her brows. "And you look-how you say? Ravished? Or ravishing?"
I chuckled in spite of my weariness. Again, her feigning ignorance of the English language came from the total conviction that she'd been imported here to serve: Cerise, like myself, had been abandoned at the orphanage, and had somehow found favor enough to survive the Sisters' feedings.
"Ravished, my dear-and then held in jail with that idiot Furmeister, until I could slip away. Billy and his new playmates owe me one hell of an explanation!"
The three domestics exchanged a knowing glance. Their fixed, polite smiles told me they'd been instructed to keep the Sisters' recent activities secret…yet another hypnotic suggestion no amount of my prying would unlock. I suspected the blond twins, Justin and Jeremy, had also been spared years ago because Perfidia so easily made them her mental slaves: her mesmerizing gaze overrode the impulsive behavior common to most young men, and they obeyed her like loyal puppies.
"I'll run your bath, Andrea," said Jeremy with a slight bow. "Downstairs, in the deeper tub."
"And I'll prepare the sauna for a hot marble massage," his twin added. Together they strode toward the back stairway, their silk sarongs whispering with each step.
Who was I to argue? Their attentions would be most therapeutic, allowing me to sleep until dusk, when I could confront the ladies who slept in a sealed chamber adjacent to the sauna-and Billy would be none the wiser. It was an unspoken rule that guests, no matter how intimate with Perfidia, Pandora, and Pink, were never to know a lower level existed beneath the house, let alone guess why their hostesses slept there rather than in the elegant bedrooms upstairs.
With an endearing smile, Cerise slipped her arm around my waist. "May I assist with your bath, Miss Andrea?" she whispered, her sparkling eyes fixed on mine. "The twins, they do a fine job, but we women know how to truly please each other, non?"
Tired as I was, her lithe body brushing against mine made for a sure aphrodisiac…an invitation to blissful release in warm, frothy water. My smile made her breath catch. The maid opened the door, her peaked breasts pointing the way down the stairs to our pleasure-the leisurely affection shared by housemates who felt no pressure to perform or impress. Indeed, the twins and Cerise, being somewhat younger, had always treated me as though I ranked only slightly below their three mistresses. While I had never requested such special treatment, I certainly wouldn't offend them by refusing their favors!
My companion closed the door behind us. The snick of the lock echoed in the darkness of the landing, and as we allowed our eyes to adjust, I felt a soft kiss on my cheek…a kiss that slipped slowly down my neck on the tip of her little tongue.
"It's been a long time, cherie," Cerise murmured against my skin. "You are always so warm, so sweet to me. I hope, in my eagerness, I don't make a fool of-"
"Shhhh, you'll be fine," I murmured, placing my finger against her dewy lips. When she closed them around my finger and began to suck, I had to chuckle. "Billy Tripplehorn has a big dick, but he'll never be as tender…as sensitive to my needs as you."
Cerise grinned, her face softened by the flickering candlelight from the sconces. "Oh, mon Dieu, it is long and thick, oui! I cannot watch him-even from the keyhole-without going wet and then wiping myself again and again. If only my fingers were as filling as-"
"Maybe the ladies will give you a turn at him someday," I teased, testing the curve of her slender hip with my hand, "but don't expect ME to share him!"
Her giggle rang around the small marble vestibule we'd entered, and the moment I reached for my top button, the maid peeled away my clothes with an eagerness that made my pulse pound. It was our custom to undress before entering the bathing chamber and sauna-and I loved the feel of the smooth Italian marble beneath my bare feet.
The sound of running water beckoned us, and Cerise playfully shoved me through the door ahead of her. "Hurry and get under that faucet, cherie, or I will hog it!"
"Like hell you will!" Already revitalized by her teasing, I padded to the deep clawfooted bathtub in this room's center, and then stepped over its edge.
Jeremy, wearing his wrapped sari of sky-blue silk, took my hand to keep me from slipping. In the steam whirling up from the tub, he looked like a prince stepping out from the mists of yore to assist me. Knowing our game, he moved to the end of the tub as Cerise stepped into it behind me. The warm water, not yet hip deep as we sat down, swirled around us as she scooted against my backside to urge me forward.
"Start now!" she pleaded. "Rock back and forth-let the water splash off your clit so my cunt can catch it, too!"
My butt was very near the front of the tub, and when I slid my feet up the porcelain sides, Jeremy grabbed them. "You girls must be desperate, having nothing better to fuck than water!" he teased-and to taunt me further, he held my legs in a vee. His stiffening cock prodded at the sari, like an excited wild animal looking for an escape.
Cerise, behind me, was nudging my ass, already panting as her coarse curls tickled my skin beneath the water. Her confederate lifted me slightly, increasing the water's force on my open slit while allowing the maid to wiggle beneath me into a better position. We must've looked ridiculous to the young swain assisting us! His erection, however, told me the sight of two nude women squirming in soapy water, straining to get the best advantage from the faucet's force, was as captivating as watching him while he held my legs against his chest.
"I might be fucking water," I replied in a voice hoarse with need, "but you, dear boy, are screwing air."
His smile tightened, and beneath me Cerise vibrated with laughter. Still the water pounded down, warm and forceful against my clit and wide-open pussy…the slim thighs wrapped around mine flexed and clenched…I gripped the rim of the tub, pulsing against the flow while the young woman beneath me half-reclined with her elbows supporting us. The rising water, relentless in its splatter and heat, reminded me that release was urgent or poor Cerise would soon be submerged.
Jeremy's pecker pulsed forward from the fold of his sari, jutting out enough to reveal the blonde frizz around his balls. Watching that cock search for prey, pointing at my face while he appeared very near climax, was incentive indeed. I could feel Cerise's cunt muscles beneath my backside…clutching to catch the splatter…squeezing to the rhythm of her low moans, so like a cat in heat…coiling and bunching…
"Hotter," I breathed, rising with the spirals of need inside me. "Open it up, full force."
Holding my legs against his chest with one arm, Jeremy twisted the faucet handles. My spasms caught fire with the sudden increase in heat and pressure, and I cried out with my climax. The blond between my legs deftly raised me, wrapping my thighs around his waist, and then plunged inside me-which left me suspended, thrusting against him as I gripped the tub's rim with all the strength I had left. The mews beneath me announced Cerise's coming, as well, for she had scooted forward to catch the full force of the water for herself.
Just when I thought I'd collapse-just when I wondered what possessed us to engage in this outrageous game, Jeremy caught me around the waist. Bracing his sturdy legs, he lifted me toward himself while inserting his cock so deep I felt another orgasm coming on. My Lord, he was strong for the size of him! With our chests pressed together now…the scraping of his hair against my breasts as he continued to thrust upward…the tautness of his jaw as he sought to prolong our pleasure…I wiggled with the wet, intense sensations of a clit rubbed high and hard, still sensitive from my previous release.
"Please, Miss Andrea," Jeremy panted, his face damp and his hair curling in the steam that swirled around us. "Please, may I-"
"God, yes, let it go!" I clutched him, shuddering madly as my body lost all control.
I hadn't thought it possible, but he stiffened like a ramrod inside me, and then ground my hips against his. His jism filled me with a warmth that dribbled out, perfuming the room with a musk like aging cheese. Bless him, his young face grimaced in release as his eyes closed with one last surge.
"Oh, Miss Andrea, I've waited so long," he sighed, locking his arms around me. Then his eyes flew open, filled with fear. "But you must understand, the Sisters have forbidden us to…Justin and I were warned never to-to-"
"It seems my twin got carried away," came an identical voice from the doorway. Young Justin, wrapped in a sari of deeper blue, was watching us with a concerned expression. "They insisted you were to be kept…"
"Pure?" I replied, choking on the irony of that word. I loosened my thighs, letting my feet slip to the floor. "Well, we all have our little secrets, don't we? Why did they insist I remain a virgin?"
The three servants shared a furtive glance, before Cerise piped up from the tub. She was sitting upright now, her hair hanging in wet ringlets over her pale shoulders. "They knew that once you found out how pleasurable such play can be, you'd be unable to control your urges-as we are. They wanted you to concentrate on your-"
"They don't want me to find a lover and leave them."
There-I'd said it. Never mind that Pandora and Perfidia-mostly the latter-had brainwashed Cerise and the twins with this blather, to keep them loyal and subservient. My chest burned with a sudden resentment as I considered yet another way in which they had enslaved me while making me believe I was free of their insidious control.
"We'll tell no one, then," I assured them quietly. "With the three of them lying oblivious in their caskets and Billy asleep upstairs, who's to be the wiser about this little…escapade?"
I hoped I sounded more confident about this than I felt. We all knew how powerful the Sisters could be, and how vengeful when this power was challenged. We'd all seen their savage way of dealing with those who defied their wishes, in the name of an eternal hunger that must be fed.
"I'm sorry, Miss Andrea," Jeremy began in a doleful voice. "Sorry I-"
"Sorry you fucked me?" I challenged the slender blond with a probing gaze.
"Oh, no! I've dreamed of doing that ever since I saw Tripplehorn sticking it to-I mean-"
I smiled in spite of the tension filling the steamy little bathroom. "You watched through the keyhole, too, right?"
"And I wanted you. Wished it were me making you cry out with such passion-"
"And need," his twin cut in, grinning wickedly. "My Lord, you were so responsive-so uninhibited-I nearly knocked the door down to take my turn at you. Can you forgive us for forgetting our place?"
Now Justin's sari had parted, to reveal a pecker identical to the one I'd just had. How could I possibly be angry with two randy young men who'd expressed their desire for me, a woman so much older? It was still Billy Tripplehorn I wanted-although now that he'd left me alone in bed and in jail, as well, I wondered why I owed him any allegiance. Any loyalty or protection.
I smiled at the way the three domestics watched me so closely. Compared to them I was indeed free, and now their safety-as well as Tripplehorn's-had become my responsibility. I didn't like it, but there was little I could do to change the grand scheme of things within the Sisters' domain.
"As I said, we all have our little secrets. But we must never forget that those wily women possess powers of perception far beyond ours," I replied, whispering as though, even now, they might be able to hear us. "We must be very, very careful not to let them guess at our new…connection."
At the door, Justin let out the breath he'd been holding. He was gazing hungrily at me, like a man too long denied food and drink. Like a young swain determined to prove himself more capable of crazing me than either of my previous lovers.
"I think a massage might erase those lines we've brought to your pretty face, Miss Andrea," he murmured, his fingers flexing in anticipation. "Think of how utterly divine you'll feel with those warm marble arms wrapped around you, while I stroke away your worries with my hands and my…cock. Who knows when we'll have such an opportunity again, without arousing the Sisters' wrath and Tripplehorn's jealousy?"
Wise beyond his years he was. And as he beckoned with an outstretched hand, his pale hair curling in the mist and his chest rising to the rhythm of my own, I once again succumbed to the siren song of my sex. Cerise was right: once I'd tried it, once was not enough!
So into the sauna I walked with him, naked yet confident-feeling so damned womanly in the knowledge that yet another handsome young man wanted my body. A denser mist filled this little room. We walked past a pool of cerulean blue, where the steam rose invitingly-where Pandora and Pink often cavorted to warm their undead bodies-to a small chamber dominated by a contraption Perfidia preferred.
I stretched out, face-down, on the massage table, which Justin had covered with a throw made of mink. Soft and plush it felt against my breasts and belly; the warmth of the marble slab, which changed temperature at the twist of a faucet, seeped through my muscles. As a pair of strong young hands plied my back, I saw visions of the lovemaking I'd just shared with Jeremy and pulsed at the chance to feel such pleasure again. Indeed, I'd opened the box belonging to that Pandora of the Greek myth: once smitten, I'd become hopelessly enslaved to the sweet sensations of sex.
Justin's hands were moving with swift efficiency, kneading my shoulder blades and pressing down my spine. Now he was rubbing the halves of my ass like a man possessed-or a man wanting to possess-and my desire flared. I turned onto my side and then stretched languidly, like a cat, holding his eye…reveling in the way he couldn't stop looking at my bare body, usually hidden beneath Andrea's dowdy clothing or the prim, proper suits Alex Moore always wore. What freedom, to display myself before him without feeling utterly ridiculous or…old.
With a sigh like a prayer, Justin lowered his lips to my chest, kissing my damp skin softly before sucking each nipple between his teeth. His fingers, meanwhile, ventured lower…into that coarse hair at the gate of my sex…into the notch beneath the padded flesh…oh, so slowly around the little nub that leapt to life beneath his fingertip. I gasped with the startling sensation! How could I still be so eager, after my climax with Jeremy? He and Cerise stood nearby, the little perverts-smiling at me through the mist. Knowing that I was as much a slave to my impulses as they were-as much held hostage by my wanton body as by the hypnotic forces Pink, Pandora, and Perfidia invoked to keep me here.
But none of that mattered. As Justin maneuvered a pair of mink-lined marble cuffs across my chest and abdomen, my body quivered with excitement: like the table beneath me, these slender slabs were warmed by hot water pipes in their center-like a radiator-so while I felt enveloped by heat and silk, I was also confined: a willing prisoner as my masseuse fastened these two flat appendages to the table. He then fastened my ankles in two smaller cuffs, which separated my legs at a very suggestive, open angle.
"How's that?" my attendant murmured, his eyes on the prize between my gaping legs.
"Turn up the heat, Justin. If we're going to use Perfidia's method, we might as well aspire to her madness."
He twisted the faucet handle, which produced a faster, warmer flow of water. Energy circulated like wild blood in my veins-the life force our slyest Sister swore by when her age and vampiric condition made her feel bitchier than she cared to. Perfidia would never be as young and fresh as Pink, nor as lush and alluring as the raven-haired Pandora-nor did she envy these attributes. Like any woman, however, she craved that sense of feeling vital and alive, so she'd designed this contraption to recapture a sense of control over her body. Not an easy task for a woman who'd slept in a casket for centuries.
But Perfidia was the farthest thing from my mind when Justin ran his fingertips down the insides of my parted thighs. His need poked out the front of his cobalt sari, a cock that peered over the edge of the table at its conquest. With an impatient jerk, he tore the silk from his slender body and then nimbly positioned himself on the warm table, crouching between my spread legs. He looked like a pale panther stalking its prey…with the scent of a pussy so close his nostrils flared.
"You're very wet…very warm, sweet Andrea," he murmured as a finger spread my dew around the folds of my slit. "I can feel the beat of your pulse, the heat of your need…so much more provocative than Perfidia's. God, I can hardly hold myself back! I want to drive into you and rut like a crazed animal, and-"
"So do it!" I was squirming against the furred bars of marble that held my chest and hips in place, desperate to be filled again. "Stick it inside me and make me scream, Justin! We don't have much time!"
The agile young man needed no further coaxing. He was on me, bracing himself on his hands so he could lower that stiff dick toward my open hole while we both watched. Cerise and Jeremy moved closer, sucking in their breath with an anticipation nearly as potent as my own. My heart was pounding hard as sweat dampened my writhing body. When had I ever felt so alive-so desired? So- "Helluva way to reward the help!" a gruff voice accosted us from the door. "Sorry to intrude in your little games, Miss Andrea, but you've got some explaining to do!"
The four of us froze as Billy Tripplehorn stepped into the steam-filled sauna. His dark waves were rumpled from sleep and his eyes shone like hard, polished rocks as he approached the table. The tip of Justin's cock rested against my clit, so it was all I could do to reply to our intruder. But by God, he had no right to any answers before I got a few myself!
"Excuse me? Explaining?" I demanded, scowling at him. "Maybe you could start by telling me why you left me in that damn cell to prance after those Gypsies!"
Billy planted his fists in his hips, which directed my gaze toward the fact that he was naked and getting aroused by the scene before him. He was also getting angry. "What was I supposed to do? Wait for Legg to march me to the gallows? Your friend Moore left me there like a sitting duck-"
"He was looking for Lucy's killer!"
"-so I took the first opening I saw, dammit!" He swiped the hair back from his forehead as he stared at the juncture of Justin's cock at my cunt. "Looks like Lover Boy here is after an opening, too! How stupid of me to assume it belonged to me, or that our night together actually meant something to you!"
"Don't you dare whine about infidelity!" I retorted, heaving with my frustration-not to mention wishing I could break loose to slap him!
"Then how about this? I happen to know that something very strange is going on here-that those three women who posed as Gypsies, and who seduced me the other night, are up to something dangerous."
"Like what?" I challenged-and then wished I hadn't. Billy's expression told me he was closer to the truth about the three Sisters than any outsider was supposed to be, and if I didn't react quickly, we could all be in deep, dark trouble. "I think you were so sucked in by their come-hither promises and their hungry cunts-"
"Those bedrooms upstairs have never been slept in."
This statement brought a halt to everyone's breathing. Beside me, Cerise and Jeremy clutched each other's hand protectively, while Justin froze like a statue.
"I know this because after they thought they'd worn me out-again-I followed them," Tripplehorn continued. "Lost sight of them in the twists of the stairway, but I know damn well they're down here somewhere. Now what's going on? What've you and Moore gotten me into, Andrea?"
There it was, the question I'd hoped to avoid. I couldn't confess that the attorney and the orphanage overseer were one and the same-and of different genders. Nor could I explain how, while trying to save him from Judge Legg's execution, I had brought him over the threshold of another potential death. The time passing between his question and my answer only pointed up a situation more incriminating than he could imagine, but as I struggled for an explanation, things got even worse.
The other door-the carved, gilt-edged entryway to the Sisters' crypt-suddenly flew open. Pink glared at us with all the venom of a diva whose beauty sleep had been disturbed, shaking her disheveled head with unmistakable menace.
"How dare you accost our Andrea with these accusations?" she demanded. "Curiosity is one thing, Mr. Tripplehorn, but we Sisters of Samaria won't tolerate such impertinence."
Was that the glint of twin incisors I saw? I held my breath as the redheaded vampire stepped from her lair, leaving the ornate door open behind her. Just as her pale pink negligee barely concealed her curves, her wicked grin didn't disguise a deadly intent.
"Come with me, Billy," she whispered, crooking her finger at him as she riveted him with her gaze. "It's time you learned about the power of Pink, big boy."