Page 43 of Things Get Dark

“I pull a stunt every year, but yes, please. Can we find a coat hanger or electrical cord so I have the reminder for a few weeks?”

Zander groaned, dropping his head to the curve of my neck.

“You’re making me hard, and we really need to find vessels for the others.” He bit into the tendons of my throat and sucked hard enough to leave a bruise. I whimpered at the pain. It hurt so good, but I needed more. Like he could sense it, he lifted his knee between my thighs, giving me something to grind on as he cocked his head to the other side and bit down again, harder this time. I moaned, rocking my hips shamelessly as I pushed my hands under his shirt and scored his back with my nails.

“Are you going to come for me, my silly Tilly girl?” Zander growled in my ear. I was close. I just needed… My scalp burned as my hair was back so hard I bowed backward far enough to get an upside down view of Dalton’s wicked grin. Zander pulled me close, grinding his thigh up against my clit, and lowered his head to my breast. The pain of his teeth ripping at my nipple was exactly what I needed to throw me over the edge, and I let my body go lax in their grip as I came apart.

“Fucking beautiful,” Zander muttered. Dalton’s grip tightened in my hair in agreement before he released me. My dress stuck to Zander’s front as he pulled away and I grimaced at the feel of blood on my hands again.

“You go wash up and we’ll get out of here.” My men knew me so well. Skipping down the hall, I used the bathroom again and came back to the sound of peals of laughter. Zander was doubled over, shaking with the force of his amusement as Dalton glared at him. He’d found something shiny — was that plastic wrap? Huh. Smart — and wrapped it around his middle, cinching in the entrails that had slipped out of the knife wound.

“Silly Tillie, did you give him a mute corpse on purpose?”

I bared my teeth in an approximation of a grin. I’d seen people do it, but apparently I always got it wrong. It didn’t matter because the guys knew what I meant.

“We all just lucked out this year, I guess.”

Zander chuckled and wrapped an arm around my back, leading me past the woman’s corpse by the door. I hesitated, wondering if we should just use the spare body.

“Forget it. Neither of them will be happy if they wake up without a cock to fuck you. Plus, half her face is on Dalton’s shirt.” I gave a reluctant hum of agreement and followed him down the outside staircase behind the garage with Dalton coming up behind.

“Where to?”

I looked around the quiet suburban street. Plastic skeletons and cotton cobwebs adorned most front yards. A wooden gravestone had been set up in front of the body donor’s house and I snorted at the unintentional death omen. “Careful what you wish for,” I whispered, crouching down and placing a hand on the decoration.

“Tills, focus. What’s the plan?”

Always so impatient. I supposed I would be, too, if I was dead for the other three hundred and sixty-four days of the year. It was only on the day, when the veil between the living and dead was at its thinnest, that I could bring them back. And even then, only for a few hours. I missed them so much the rest of the year. Hated that it was my fault they were on the other side. Even more so that for some stupid reason, they wanted me to stay on this side of the veil.

Without them.

It was enough to give a girl a complex, really.

I was jolted out of my reflection by the gravestone beneath my hand tipping under the force of a boot. I scowled up at Dalton, who just rolled his eyes and nodded at Zander.

“There’s a Halloween party happening—”

“No Halloween parties. Remember two years ago?” Zander offered his hand to help me up, even as he shut down my idea.

It wasn’t my fault that one of the slippery potential hosts lost us in the crowd and ran for help. The guy seriously needed to adjust his survival instinct and get with the program. Luckily, Jeremiah had already woken up in the other body and managed to smooth things over with the police. The thought of Jeremiah finally got my feet moving, and I decided to keep it simple this year and head for the nearest overpass.

The homeless population was a burden on the local government, but I was always quietly thankful to have such a ready supply of vessel donors.

My only condition was that my guys had to shower and scrub themselves clean first.

We strolled down to the riverfront where a network of overpasses ensured everyone got where they were going without the inconvenience of having to view the human refuse and unsavory dealings that happened below them. We found a sleeping bag and tarp, but no body beside the first pylon wepassed, so we continued on until a dark car pulled up beside us. The paint was in perfect condition and looked the kind of expensive that repelled dirt. The driver’s side window rolled down to reveal a man with a neatly pressed collar and tie knotted carefully at his throat. His eyes traced over my body like a lecherous caress, taking in my short, bloodstained dress and bare feet. I couldn’t remember where I left my shoes, but it hardly seemed to matter.

“What are you dressed as, sweet thing?”

This was my favorite part of Halloween. No one cared how bloody I got. They assumed it was a costume.

New plan. Jeremiah could wear a fat cat this year.

Chapter Three

Zander and Dalton waitedas I eyed the man, and I basked in the trust they gave me. I wasn’t a wilting flower. I was the wasp.

“Whatever you want me to be, Daddy,” I purred in a sickly sweet voice.

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