Twice Dead Read Online Free PDF Page B

me moving the slab. After all, I was only a few inches taller than five foot and my five years of living as a stray on the streets had made me skinnier than a predator should be, but as a shifter I’d been stronger than a human, and as a vampire I was even stronger still. Not like toss-a-bus strong, but much stronger than I looked.
    The stone scraped along the base, and a nail-bitingly annoying grinding noise filled the mausoleum. Beside me, Gil bounced on her toes, anxiously attempting to peek into the hole as it opened. I gave one last shove, and stopped, looking down at what I’d revealed.
    Inside the sarcophagus, an ancient skeleton grinned up at me, its thin arms crossed over gray cloth hanging to its ribcage.
    “This is it?” I asked, stepping aside.
    Gil hung over the triangular opening. Her hands clung to the ancient cement, her dark curls quivering as she shook her head. “He’s not here.”
    Oh, there was definitely someone in this sarcophagus, though since the name carved on the front read ‘Mary Elizabeth Stanhope,’ I was fairly certain he , whomever he was, had never been in the tomb.
    Gil pushed away and dragged her feet to the mausoleum doorway. “I must have miscalculated something. Maybe if…”
    She pulled a scroll out of thin air again, glancing around the cemetery. “I could have sworn. But…” She frowned, vanishing her scroll. “I’ll take you home.”
    Magic crawled over my skin.
    “Wait.” I stumbled back. No way was I going into the void again. I’d call Nathanial. I didn’t know the number, but I’d seen the telephone on his counter. I could find his phone number and he could come pick me up. Okay, my reasoning might be flawed, but I’d just wait. The council be damned.
    Gil ignored my protest. Her hand touched my arm. Then the mausoleum faded to black.
    * * * *
    I lay on my side and blinked into the darkness. Not the nothingness of the void—the wood-paneled walls and ceiling were clear to my vampire eyes, so this darkness was simply the lack of light in Nathanial’s hallway.
    No more adventures with Gil.
    Ever .
    My stomach couldn’t take it.
    I fought the urge to hurl everything I hadn’t eaten. Then I pushed away from the thick pile carpet. My knees didn’t cooperate the first time I tried to stand, but the second time I managed to get my feet under me. I leaned against the wall before stumbling toward the main part of the house.
    The swinging doors to the kitchen had gotten stuck half open, and I paused outside, staring in at Nathanial. He sat in one of the unpadded chairs, several books scattered across the top of the table and a laptop directly in front of him. He’d removed the opera mask. It lay face down, forgotten, on the edge of the table. He didn’t look up from the book he leaned over, didn’t realize I was there, so I had a moment to stare and let my eyes soak up the width of his shoulders, which tapered down to lean hips.
    He wasn’t large and bulky like Bobby, but had a quieter, more lithe strength. I was supposed to hate him. After all, he’d made me this blood-sucking aberration. But as I watched him, all I could hate was the fact my fingers itched to trail through the dark hair streaming over his shoulders. I could only hope he never realized it, never saw me staring when he wasn’t looking, but sometimes I was afraid he knew me better than I knew myself. It wasn’t a comforting feeling.
    The book in Nathanial’s lap snapped shut. He tossed it on the table and leaned back in his chair. He reached up, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. If he’d been human enough to sigh, I think he would have at that moment, but he only wasted energy on breathing to speak and for show. As if a silent alarm went off in his head, his hand dropped, and he turned, peering into the darkness where I stood.
    Caught.
    I stepped through the doorway, and Nathanial flowed to his feet.
    He glided across the kitchen. Awareness of his presence