Dead Again

186 Pages·2016·0.56 MB·English

by  Andel Lisa

Atlantic Bridge
www.atlanticbridge.net
Copyright ©2006 by Lisa Andel

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Published by Liquid Silver Books, Imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509
Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana. Copyright 2006, Lisa Andel. All rights
reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,
recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the authors.
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are
of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance
to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
Prologue
I never knew my father. He conveniently disappeared when my mother informed
him she was pregnant. My mother, though she tried, wasn't strong enough to
raise me on her own. She died when I was seven, from a lingering illness that I
couldn't pronounce.
For all their faults, they did provide me with a legacy that I will forever be
grateful for. I don't know if you could call me immortal exactly; it's just that, no
matter how I die, I just don't stay dead.
By the time I was eighteen years old, I'd died twelve times. I came back every
single time. I've been run over, stabbed, shot, blown up; if you can think it up,
it's happened to me. I lost any sense of fear that I might have had, after I'd come
back a few times from death.
I know you're wondering if it hurts. Not at all. I'm alive one minute, and the next
thing I know I'm waking up somewhere, unsure of how I got there. Someone else
usually has to tell me I died, though I'm getting pretty good at recognizing the
symptoms. Sometimes I can remember details right up to my death. Other times,
I might lose a week or two right before it.
Two other things I know: My blood seems to be toxic to vampires, and if shifters
consume me, I regenerate inside of them, literally bursting out of their bodies as
I grow. Kills the shifter in a really messy way.
A great and gentle giant of a man took me under his wing after my mother died.
Without him I wouldn't have been able to do all the things that I do now. With
him, I spent my time mingling with the creatures of the night. Their lives were
more exciting than that of regular humans. I also felt I had more in common with
them.
Along the way, I taught myself to work with precious metals, and began, at the
age of eight, to earn enough from my work to live on.
I purchased an old building in Highland Square, and renovated it over the years
to suit my purposes. In it I created my inner sanctum, my favorite and most
specialized room. Behind my building was a lovely courtyard that butted up
against the backs of some of the businesses I sold to. My career was great.
My personal life kind of sucked. I didn't have a companion, a boyfriend, so to
My personal life kind of sucked. I didn't have a companion, a boyfriend, so to
speak. And I was increasingly aware of a burning need to get one.
Oh, I made sure to get rid of my virginity as soon as I turned eighteen, with a
human male. But that was two years ago, and the offers I'd had since, well—they
weren't the kind of offers a girl like me wanted to accept.
So I set a new goal for myself. I would make an effort to meet more people, and
keep an eye open for “the one".
In fact, I was so close to the end of my rope I decided to change that last goal
from finding “the one", to finding “the one for tonight".
Chapter One
It was after ten, and I'd just made my final delivery for the evening. I glanced
around the street as I exited the back door of the Quaker complex. It wasn't the
other beings that bothered me so much as the bizarre humans that seemed to
congregate in the area at this time of night.
By the time I'd reached my car, I'd gotten a delightful view of a wrinkled penis,
and offers for several potential dates. Yeah, right. Like the guy taking a piss on
the side of the building was the man of my dreams. The guy who'd passed out in
his own vomit had been kind of cute, though.
I slammed my keys into the ignition of my aging Plymouth Volare, and left in a
cloud of burning oil. I didn't drive often, so I couldn't see spending the money on
a better piece of transportation.
As I pulled into my garage, my stomach rumbled, reminding me I hadn't
bothered to eat today. I closed the garage door behind me, and set out on foot for
a bar on the other side of the courtyard that served decent food.
Once in the bar, I let my eyes adjust to the dim interior, and scanned the crowd
as I made my way toward an empty stool at the bar. I nodded at several others
that I recognized as I passed, too intent on filling my belly to stop and chat.
I'd just taken a huge bite of my cheeseburger when an enormous werewolf
parked his ass on the stool next to mine.
"Can I buy you a drink?” Christ. Even the others used the same dull pick-up
lines. It did not inspire me to accept a drink from this one. Especially since my
doing so meant I'd sleep with him.
"I don't think so.” I sprayed some chewed-up beef at him while I spoke. So
fucking what? Like I want to impress the guy?
He curled his lip at me, and moved on. I devoured the rest of my burger, and my
fries; then concentrated on my beer. Hey, it might not be the classiest meal, but it
suited me just fine.
Angel slid onto the stool next to me, his dark hair gleaming. He was the picture
of absolute male beauty. He was also totally evil. It was easy to see how he'd
come by the nickname “The Fallen Angel". Maybe he actually was.
come by the nickname “The Fallen Angel". Maybe he actually was.
"Haven't seen you in here for a while, Lise.” He rested his arms on the bar and,
without having to do another thing, several drinks appeared before him.
"Angel.” He'd never bothered me, at least not since he'd killed me.
"I've got a friend that would like to meet you.” Angel's lips curved in a smile that
didn't reach his eyes.
I took another sip of my beer, then swiveled so I faced him.
"I've got better things to do than let your friends kill me for a lark."
"Ah, come on Lisa, it's been a while since you've been killed.” He turned his
considerable charm on me. It wasn't going to change my answer; I knew him too
well. Unfortunately, my body had no common sense, and my crotch sparked in
response to his charm.
He was on me in a heartbeat, his fingers tangled in the hair at the back of my
head, his hand on my back pushing my breasts against his chest as he captured
my mouth with his. He was a master with his tongue, and I let him play inside
my mouth for a while, at least until my panties were drenched, and my vagina
was threatening to ignite.
When he let me up for air, I could see triumph in his eyes.
"I'll pass, Angel. Thanks for the offer though.” I turned away from him and took
a healthy swallow of my beer.
I could tell when Angel decided to physically remove me from the bar, and I
resigned myself to another senseless night where some idiot got off on killing
me. Just before he made his move, an arm wrapped around my waist, and a
large, familiar hand splayed across my stomach.
"Hey, babe. I'm sorry I'm late.” It was Ashur, an old and very dear friend of
mine, but not my lover.
He treated me like one though, for Angel's benefit. It surprised me, and I frankly
lost my head while he kissed me with a passion that felt more than real.
When he withdrew his lips from mine, I nearly followed him. He glanced at the
When he withdrew his lips from mine, I nearly followed him. He glanced at the
stool where Angel had been sitting, then claimed it for himself.
"Is it me, or does Angel run from all your lovers?"
I shook myself, trying to calm the buzz that Ash had started in my blood. “Oh,
it's definitely you. But speaking of lov..."
"Let me guess, Angel has a friend he wants to introduce you to.” Ash cut me off.
"Right the first time.” I accepted the beer he bought me. Hey, there were
exceptions for friends, even if it wasn't the first thought that crossed my mind. “I
guess it really pisses him off I didn't stay dead."
"Fuck him,” Ashur growled.
"I think I'll pass.” I wondered what Ashur would say if I told him I had an urge
to fuck him? I shook my head, knowing it would never happen. I valued his
friendship too much.
I turned around, leaned back against the bar, and scoped out the people.
"Who's the dark-haired guy over by the jukebox?"
"Devon, he's a werewolf. Not mated, by the way."
He was already hitting on some babe, so I let my gaze drift past him.
"How about that grim-looking blond shooting pool?"
"Vampire. Val Krendor. He wouldn't fuck a human if you paid him."
I almost snorted beer out my nose.
Ashur nudged my arm and pointed to a booth near the door. I took a look in that
direction, and decided Ashur had pretty good taste.
"That one's available. He's a werepanther. Ever meet one of those?"
"Nope. Are they like werewolves?"
"Kind of, but more aggressive."
"Kind of, but more aggressive."
"O.K., I'll bite.” I turned my stool around and found another beer waiting for me
on the bar.
Ashur went off to round up the unsuspecting panther while I sipped my brew and
tried to look casual.
I actually jumped when Ashur's hand landed on my shoulder, so involved was I
in fantasizing about the things I'd like a man to do to me.
Ashur laughed, a deep, throaty sound that always sped my heart up.
"Lisa, I'd like to introduce you to a friend of mine."
I turned my stool around, and accidentally ended up caging his thighs between
my legs. I was eye level with his chest, and a fine chest it was. His black t-shirt
molded to the long, lean muscles like a lover. I let my gaze travel lower, kind of
pissed that his shirt was looser across his stomach. My eyes flicked to his groin,
and stuck. He had an enormous bulge pressing against the zipper of his jeans.
Ashur elbowed me in the ribs, and I tore my gaze away from the panther's
crotch. I knew my mouth dropped open when I looked into his eyes.
The man was gorgeous, in that rugged, totally masculine way. He had black hair
and black eyes that had an exotic tilt to them, a straight nose, and lips that were
begging to be kissed.
"Rafe, this is Lisa. Lisa, Rafe.” Ashur, feeling his job was done, walked away
from us.
Rafe raised his hand to my face, and gently closed my jaw.
The touch of his fingers sent electricity through me, causing my nipples to
tighten and my crotch to flood with moisture.
He slid his fingers around to the back of my neck, then leaned in close and
smelled me.
"Ash is right. I like the way you smell.” His voice was a deep purr.
Don't ask me why, but most of the supes I knew used smell as much as sight.
More so. I wasn't blessed with the ability to identify smells beyond the ordinary,
but I was used to others smelling me all the time.
"Uh ... uh...” I was wondering how big his cock was, and what it would be like
to fuck a panther. I didn't think either one of these were appropriate topics at the
moment.
Rafe slid onto the stool that Ashur had vacated, and motioned to the bartender.
He turned partially toward me and his thigh mashed up against mine. A jolt of
awareness shot through me from the contact.
"Ash didn't tell me much about you. Did he at least tell you anything about me?"
God, I loved his eyes; there was a thin gold ring around the black of his iris.
"He told me you're a panther."
I lifted my mug to him, acknowledging he'd bought me the beer.
"Is Ash a—friend of yours?” He raised an eyebrow at the end of his question.
"He's my best friend.” I wanted to turn so I could look at him while we talked,
but I was enjoying the feel of his thigh on my leg too much.
He solved my dilemma for me by grabbing my thigh and swiveling me to face
him, his thighs now bracketing mine. Even better.
I wasn't sure I'd be capable of speech, though.
"Does he have any claims on you?"
"He's not my lover, if that's what you're asking. Hell, he's the one that introduced
us."
"I'm just curious.” His gaze roamed down my body, and flames erupted on my
skin in its wake. He leaned forward, placing his lips next to my ear, and I forgot
how to breathe.
"He must know that—sex with a panther can be—lethal.” His hand had ventured
toward my crotch while he spoke.