He pushed a stray lock of hair back from her face and pulled her down until her mouth was on his again. He parted her lips with his tongue, and while that felt wonderful, his fingers sliding over her clit felt even better. She stiffened and grabbed his wrist. Not because she didn’t like it, but because she liked it too much.

  “It’s okay,” he said at her mouth as though he knew exactly what she was thinking. Maybe he did. She didn’t care in the least. One arm slid around her shoulders and pulled her closer as though to hold her still as he worked. “Spread your legs farther.”

  She realized she’d clamped her legs against his as though trying to close them. She tried to relax, but the waves of pleasure pulsing through her wouldn’t allow it.

  He pulled her to him until his mouth was at her ear. “I’m going to have you for dinner now.”

  “What?” she asked, her voice a breathy ghost of what it had been only minutes earlier. But she understood when he put his arms under her knees, scooted down a bit, and lifted her until her clit was at his mouth.

  She gasped aloud and grabbed handfuls of his hair. His tongue brushed softly between the folds of her core, teasing her clit with delicious precision. Her muscles contracted in response, and she felt warmth pool in her abdomen. A sharp tightness coiled deep inside.

  Without breaking contact, he twisted and laid her on the seat, his thick arms easily handling her weight. She rose onto her shoulder blades anyway, jutting her hips heavenward, worried he would stop. To keep him locked to her, she curled handfuls of hair into her fists, and while she couldn’t be certain, he may have laughed. But it was worth it. Any embarrassment she may suffer later was nothing compared to what this man was doing with his tongue.

  He combined swirls with soft suckling and occasional kisses. But the fingers sliding into her warmth were her undoing. The pressure in her abdomen built to a piercing release of pleasure. It spilled into her in wave after succulent wave. She bucked off the seat as he pushed his fingers into her in time with her climax.

  Then he eased on top of her and trailed hot kisses up her neck and across her jaw until he captured her mouth with his. As she soared onto another plane of existence, he slid into her in one smooth thrust. The movement caught her off guard. She clamped around him as his thickness sent her spiraling a second time.

  He pushed into her slowly at first, but she wanted more. And she wanted it faster. She lifted her hips off the seat again and grasped his rounded buttocks to force him deeper, glad that the doctor’s body was not as virginal as she.

  “Doc,” he said, his voice deep and breathy, but that was all he said before he climaxed himself.

  It was only fair. She was going on her third peak, the sensations washing over her like heroin mixed with highly volatile explosives. She held her breath, hoping for one more second of ecstasy, one more moment of pleasure. When Donovan shuddered and groaned, his expression part euphoria and part agony, she got it. His release lengthened hers, and she watched his gorgeous face tense and relax when he came down.

  He started to collapse onto her but stopped himself, so she pulled him down and wrapped her arms and legs around him in a vise grip as they panted in rhythm.

  “On a scale of one to ten?” she asked after a few minutes, and he laughed, a deep, husky thing that almost sent her over the edge again. “Soooo, maybe a nine-point-three-eight-five?” When he only kissed her neck, sending spirals of pleasure down her spine, she decided for herself. “It was a nine-point-three-eight-five.”

  * * * *

  Sia had never felt anything like that in her life. She’d read all about orgasms in both nonfiction and fiction books, but the reality was so much better. So much sharper. So much more earth-shatteringly intense.

  She kissed Donovan softly on the mouth and then left him snoozing in the back seat of his truck to get a fresh set of clothes from her car. Unable to stop herself, she gazed lovingly at the bracelet he’d insisted she wear until they could get her one that fit her wrist better. For now, she would cherish this one.

  After crawling into the back seat, she opened her suitcase and sought out a fresh set of clothes. They planned to drive straight through to North Carolina. Donovan had agreed to help her find her friends, and one of them was inhabiting a pastry chef in Asheville named Pamela Dubois. But they would have to find some showers soon—one of the perks of living on this plane. She tugged on her shoes and grabbed the iron dagger. Since Donovan had insisted she take his bracelet, he would carry the dagger in his belt. Have it at the ready. Just as she started to head back to his truck, Benji’s voice popped into her head.

  Sia, wait.

  Benji! she fairly shouted to him. When he didn’t answer, she concentrated hard, trying to get him back. Where are you? Are you okay? Wait for what?

  I’m sorry. He’s just too powerful, and I can’t live with that kind of terror.

  What are you talking about?

  I’m sorry.

  She whirled around, glancing out of the windows, trying to find something he would have to apologize for. That was when she saw him. The tall, masked man from her vision stood between her car and Donovan’s truck, staring at her, his head angled slightly. Only instead of a machete, he carried a gas can in one hand and a lit match in the other.

  She scrambled to get out of her car, but the man dropped the match before she could manage it. Panic took hold, and she bolted out the door, falling forward onto the asphalt and scraping her palms on the gravel. She twisted around to watch her car go up in flames, only the trail of fire went the other direction.

  “Donovan?” she said softly. A microsecond later, the truck exploded with a deafening bang.

  A blast of heat washed over her, followed by raining metallic debris. Her instincts should have taken hold. She should have huddled against the explosion. Protected her head and body the best she could, but she couldn’t tear her gaze from the fire billowing thirty feet into the air.

  “Donovan?” she whispered again before stumbling toward the truck. The heat refused to let her get very close, and the next few minutes played out like a slow-motion movie.

  People circled the truck from a safe distance, yelling at her to get back. But they sounded like they were underwater, their warnings nothing more than muffled pleas.

  Why was she seeing this? She was wearing the iron bracelet. Kursch shouldn’t have been able to get into her head. So why was she seeing this?

  I’m sorry.

  She tried again to get closer, but the wall of heat held her back as though it were made of molten steel. So, she walked around to the driver’s side, looking in the back seat for Donovan. Maybe he’d gotten out. Perhaps he’d gone inside the truck stop for a restroom break or for snacks.

  She turned and searched for him in the crowd, but he wasn’t there.

  “There was someone inside!” a woman shouted, and screams and chatter followed her statement. But Sia didn’t see anyone. No. He wasn’t in there. That woman was wrong.

  Sirens blared in the distance as people rushed to move their vehicles lest they go up in flames, as well, but Sia couldn’t move. She stared into the fire until her eyes dried out from her efforts.

  “Donovan?” she whispered yet again, as though he would be able to hear her even if he wasn’t in the truck.

  Finally, one man braved the heat and rushed forward to pull her back. She fought him tooth and nail, but he held firm until he got her far enough away from the truck for another onlooker to help wrestle her to the ground. “If someone was in there, they’re gone, sweetheart,” a woman said to her. “You have to stay back.”

  This wasn’t happening. She looked at her wrist to make sure the bracelet was still there. It was. This couldn’t be real. This was just another of Kursch’s warped visions.

  Then she saw him. The tall man, only he no longer wore the mask. He stood staring at her from the other side of the truck, the flames distorting his elongated face. But there was no mistaking that smile for anything other than the wicked thing it was. Even the fact that his mouth was partially decomposed, exposing his teeth on one side.

  She heard them before she saw them. The man and woman still held onto her arms, keeping her locked to the ground as first responders rushed into the lot. But she could hear their growls, low and guttural, even over the sirens. One came up on her left and the other on her right. The thin man’s smile faltered when he saw them, but he quickly locked it back into place.

  Sia smiled at him and whispered, “Kill.”

  They bolted forward, the hellhound and the Rottweiler taking off after the man like rockets. He stumbled back and tried to run, but they were on him in an instant. His screams mingled with the vicious sounds of their growls as they dragged the entity out of the body he’d stolen and proceeded to rip it to shreds.

  While she didn’t doubt for a second that their love bites hurt, she did doubt their ability to kill him. He’d been feeding off the energy of the ka-zhouah for eons. It would take more than a good dismembering to take him out.

  She rose to her feet, shaking off the strangers’ holds, and walked toward the fight. The human’s body lay crumpled on the ground, and the soul eater lay in pieces all around it. The dogs were still snarling and ripping when Sia found what she was looking for. The dark center. The heart of the entity known as Kursch.

  The dogs stopped to watch her. King Henry growled whenever a piece moved, knowing it would try to reassemble itself. Artemis bounded up to Sia, something that resembled an arm hanging out of her mouth.

  “Good girl,” Sia said, patting the adorable Rottweiler on the head. Then she looked at Henry, pointed at the dark center, and said, “Fetch.”

  Firefighters were now spraying down the truck, but she couldn’t think about that right now. She couldn’t think about what she’d lost between one second and the next.

  Henry gathered the dark center into his mouth, trotted over, and dropped it at her feet.

  She knelt and took the iron dagger out of the back of her pants.

  No, Kursch said to her a microsecond before she lifted the knife high into the air and plunged it into the core that made him what he was. It didn’t melt like she’d hoped. Or turn to dust. Or even explode. It just... disappeared, taking the weight she’d felt on her shoulders for the entire five years she’d been on this plane with it.

  But she stayed glued to the spot. Unable to move. Unwilling to. What happened when you were finally able to live freely but no longer wanted to?

  Artemis, upset that her arm had disappeared, licked Sia’s face, but she only stared at the place where the dark center had been. She felt the heat of the truck at her back. The cool sprinkles of water that bounced off it. The searing scent of burning gasoline and plastics.

  I’m so sorry.

  She felt Benji beside her but didn’t bother to look.

  He made me lure you to my house. Then he made me contact you. He got a lock on your location every time I did, but he kept losing it.

  “It was the iron from Donovan’s bracelet,” she said aloud rather than mentally. He didn’t need in her thoughts anymore.

  Yes. First, it was because you were in the haven, so he forced me to lure you out from under it. Then, yes, it was the bracelet. I’m so sorry, Zhou.

  “It’s not your fault,” she said, her voice monotone. “Kursch had a way of slowly driving us all insane and then forcing us to tip him for giving us a ride.”

  She felt rather than saw Benji sit beside her.

  We all have to find new bodies—everyone but you. But we’re free, Sia.

  “I’m so sorry for your human family. I know how much they loved you and how much you grew to love them.”

  He didn’t say anything for a long while as first responders rushed around her. Every so often, one would ask if she was injured. She only shook her head, and they went about their business.

  They’ll find his body soon, Benji said, speaking about his human’s physical form. I’m sorry for them, too.

  “What will you do now?”

  I’m thinking about saving that man you fell in love with.

  Hope rose inside her until she realized what he meant. He would inhabit Donovan’s body. “Don’t you dare. It won’t be the same.”

  He’s still alive.

  It took a moment for his words to sink in. She turned to him and looked at the incorporeal being sitting beside her. He shone a soft blue, as all of them did in their spiritual forms.

  His heartbeat is faint, but his soul is still intact. At least, for the moment.

  She whirled around and looked at the smoking, water-drenched pickup. He was right. She felt the soft, slow beat of Donovan’s heart. Felt the warm rush of his soul. But he could die any moment.

  Stumbling to her feet, she rushed forward until a long, muscular arm wrapped around her and pulled her back into the crowd. She fought it, trying to get to Donovan, but a woman’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

  “If it isn’t Mocha Cappuccino.”

  Sia twisted around until none other than the unsinkable Charley Davidson came into view. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest. Her long, chestnut hair hung over her shoulders, and her gold eyes shimmered with the mischief Sia remembered so fondly from their century together in the void.

  “You know who I am?”

  “How could I forget? We were BFFs for, like, a hundred years.”

  “Well, technically seventy, as you were too snooty to mingle with the common folk for the first thirty.”

  Charley laughed and pulled Sia out of her husband’s arms and into hers. “I think you have that backward,” she said. “I had no idea you guys made it onto the plane.”

  “Well, you were a little busy stopping an apocalypse and protecting the kid destined to save humanity and all. She’s incredible, by the way. And so much like you, it’s scary.”

  Charley flashed her a nuclear smile and gestured toward the tall glass of water that was her husband. “And the man who just accosted you is—”

  “Reyes Farrow,” Sia said, holding out her hand. “Welcome back to Earth.”

  His hand swallowed hers. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Yeah, Marmalade was one giant slumber party.”

  “Oh,” Charley said, “remember that time we punked Salted Caramel Macchiato, and he didn’t talk to us for like ten years?”

  Sia laughed softly, but Reyes just shook his head. “Thank you for taking care of Team Beep while we were gone.”

  “Please, it’s been my pleasure.” She turned back to the truck and struggled to talk with a lump in her throat. “But I think I might have to move on now.”

  “There’s still time,” Charley said, but she directed it at Benji.

  “He can’t, Charley,” she said. “If he inhabits an—”

  “—occupied host,” Charley interrupted, “the host will retain control. He knows what will happen.”

  That was true. They all did. It was a lesson they learned early on. The host had to have left the building first. Otherwise, the soul inhabiting the body at the time a ka-zhouah entered would still be in control. The ka-zhouah would only be a passenger, but their auras were so powerful, it would still be able to heal the host.

  “But he will still be there,” Charley added.

  I can heal him, Benji said.

  “And how would we explain that?”

  Do we care? he asked. Are we caring about that now?

  “Benji, why would you even consider this?”

  Because we’ll still be together. She felt his essence slide into her fingers. They had been friends for so long, and she loved him dearly. But this was a big ask.

  Her chin quivered as she fought the urge to hope. The desire to fall to her knees and beg him to save Donovan. But before she could say anything, before she could do the unthinkable and ask her best friend to sacrifice himself for the love of her life, he was gone.

  She gasped and then turned slowly toward the truck.

  “Oh, my God. He’s alive!” someone shouted.

  Emergency personnel rushed to get the back door open, and Donovan St. James unfolded out of the cab, water dripping off him, smoke curling over his broad shoulders, and nary a mark on him. Sia’s knees almost gave way beneath her. Had Benji healed him that quickly? Or maybe the fire had yet to spread to the inside of the cab before being doused in water?

  Ignoring the EMT trying to put a blanket over his shoulders, he walked up to her, did the hair thing, and pulled her into his arms.

  “Are you still Donovan?”

  The grin he wore answered for her, but his reply was worth the second affirmation. “I am. Unless you want me to be Captain America. I look fantastic in a leotard.” He turned to Charley and Reyes. “Aren’t you guys supposed to be running my bar?”

  “We handed the reins over to Beep for a few days,” Charley said. “She’ll do great.”

  “Like that poor kid hasn’t been through enough. Holy fuck, is that what I think it is?”

  Sia turned and saw the hellhound sniffing Charley’s boots as she rubbed his ears. “That’s King Henry VIII,” she said.

  “That is so much scarier than I thought it would be. I’m not sure seeing into the supernatural realm will be worth it.”

  Sia pointed to his left. “You might be surprised.”

  Artemis ran up to them, her stubby little tail wagging a thousand miles an hour.

  He knelt to her and buried his face in her fur. “Okay, this is cool.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Sia said.

  He wrapped an arm around her leg, keeping her close as he got reacquainted with the dog that’d stolen his heart. After a few moments, he looked up at Sia and said, “We should probably get to know each other better first, but do you want to get married next week?”

  She knelt next to him and scratched Artemis’s ears, her fingers tangling with his as she replied, “I thought you’d never ask.”

  * * * *

  Also from 1001 Dark Nights and Darynda Jones, discover The Graveyard Shift and The Gravedigger’s Son.