Surf's Up Page 12

  Tom. You’d better be drinking a milkshake right now. You’d better be—well, if not happy, at least resigned. Happiness will come. It’s got to. It—

  She opened her eyes.

  And managed to just stop herself from screaming in surprise.

  The beach was gone. The ocean was gone. She was in someone’s living room.

  She looked around wildly. Yes, the beach was gone. Yes: couch, coffee table, end tables, chairs . . . this was a living room. She walked over to the window and looked out: traffic streamed by below. And—she knew this place. This was Commonwealth Avenue. Boston, Massachusetts.

  Boston? But that was where—

  She heard keys jingling, locks clacking, and turned around in time to see the door swing open and Tom walk inside, white-faced with fatigue.

  Their eyes locked. They spoke in less than romantic unison: “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “This is my apartment,” he said, dropping his bag. On his foot, she noticed, but he didn’t notice. “This is where you told me to go.”

  “But—but—but—but—” She had made him go. She had insisted he set them free. And now she was free. Free to go where she wanted.

  What had he said, what had his unique vision of the afterlife been?

  He slammed the door, curled into Lotus-Tom right there in the living room.

  (It’s whatever you can imagine.)

  Jumped out of Lotus-Tom, raced to her. Kissed her until she thought they’d both topple through the window.

  (If you see harps and angels, that’s where you go. If you see hell, that’s where you go. If you think you have unfinished business, you stay here.)

  “I love you, I love you,” he was saying, raining kisses on her face, “I love you, but I’m going to choke you for sending me away, I love you.”

  (The afterlife—it can be anything. Anything at all.)

  “I’ve got some bad news for you,” she said, kissing him back.

  He held her at arm’s length. “What?”

  “Well, you have to eat more.”

  “Done. What’s the bad news?”

  “Your apartment’s haunted. You’re my afterlife.”

  “Oh, that,” he said. “Luckily, I happen to be a psychic.” And kissed her some more.

  HOT SUMMER BITES

  Nina Bangs

  PROLOGUE

  “Cosmic troublemaker test-time.” Sparkle Stardust let the words resonate in her soul. Fine, so she didn’t have a soul, but they still resonated. She loved it when a young troublemaker she’d mentored got a chance to show his stuff.

  Deimos looked suspicious. He’d propped his massive six-feet-plus of solid muscle against the candy store’s closed door and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

  “First, a progress report.” She popped a black jellybean into her mouth. Chocolate was a more sensual treat, but jel lybeans helped her think. “I agreed to mentor you because I saw the promise of a troublemaker who could develop into a sexual manipulator almost as powerful as me.” She thought about that. “Of course, even I sometimes make a mistake.”

  Deimos’s gaze skittered away from Sparkle as he fumbled with the doorknob behind him.

  “Forget it. You’re not leaving until I’m ready for you to leave.” Sparkle hopped off the stool she kept behind the counter and strolled to the door. “I’ve given you all my knowledge, and now it’s time for you to produce.” She held up her hand before he could lay a lame excuse on her.

  “You’re not a virgin anymore, so don’t try to use that to wiggle out of your duty. As far as I can see, you haven’t made even one attempt to mess with anyone’s sex life. If you fail, then I fail in the eyes of the troublemaker world.” She stood on tiptoe in her Manolo Blahnik stilettos and glared at him eyeball to chin. “I will not be humiliated. Ergo, you will not fail me. Got it?”

  Deimos ran his hand nervously over his shaved head. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Sparkle frowned as she stared past him out the store’s window. “Jeez, you just scared a little kid away who wanted to spend his candy money. Go stand somewhere else and try not to loom. You know, the bald head, the tattoos, the biker-dude look, it’s not helping me sell candy.”

  Deimos shrugged. “Action heroes need to be scary-looking so the bad guys will respect them.”

  Okay, Sparkle was officially pissed. “Yeah, well, there’re a bunch of preschoolers outside who respect you to death.”

  Sparkle sighed. It was a good thing she really didn’t need the money from the store. Sweet Indulgence was just a front for her real purpose—to foment sexual chaos by matching up people who were totally wrong for each other in every way except between the sheets.

  Her setup was brilliant. The candy store was right outside Live the Fantasy, an adult theme park where people could act out their fantasies, childhood or otherwise. It was the possibility for “otherwise” that interested her.

  “Here’s the deal. In exactly ten minutes Kristin Hughes will check into the Castle of Dark Dreams. She’s an investigative reporter who’s gotten wind that some of the fantasies offered in the park are sexual in nature—don’t I wish. Anyway, she’ll be poking around looking for the sex.” Sparkle’s smile was a slow slide of wicked anticipation. “You, Deimos, will see that she finds it.”

  His amber eyes rounded in panic. “How?”

  “That’s part of the test, silly.” She contemplated the perfection of her nails—Luscious Lust nail color, no chips, no broken edges. It didn’t get much better than that. “Taurin just got back from a fruitless search for his long-lost brother. He’s feeling pretty down.”

  Deimos’s horrified expression said he knew what was coming.

  “To pass the test and graduate, you have to hook those two up.” Sparkle knew her eyes gleamed with the intensity of the true zealot.

  “But he’s a vampire.”

  Sparkle clapped her hands. “Exactly. It’ll be a deliciously evil and incredibly difficult test. If you pass it, you’ll be ready to fly.” She paused to study his petulant expression. “Well, maybe not fly. But at least you’ll be up to a fast walk.”

  “I don’t want to do it.” From his narrowed amber eyes to his pouty lower lip, Deimos was Mr. Sulky. “I’m a supernatural being with lots of power. I should be doing what other cosmic troublemakers do, wreaking havoc throughout the universe, stuff like that.”

  Sparkle tried to look sympathetic, but she oozed sarcasm. She couldn’t help it; he made her crazy. “I feel your pain, Deimos. It’s tough being conflicted.”

  “Huh?”

  “I mean, do you choose good or evil? Should you be an action hero who does boring good stuff or a cosmic troublemaker who enjoys the rush of creating spectacularly evil events?” Sparkle didn’t leave any doubt on which side of the good-or-evil fence she perched.

  Deimos furrowed his brow.

  Amazing. Sparkle had never seen anyone actually do that. “So what’s your choice?” She wasn’t worried. Anyone with a brain in his head would choose to be a troublemaker. Okay, so maybe she should worry. She’d forgotten about the prerequisite brain.

  Deimos’s expression cleared. He grinned. “I’ll be both.”

  She dropped the sympathetic look. “Not possible.”

  “Sure it is.” He punched the air to emphasize his conviction, and a little old lady peering at the chocolate display in the window ran away screaming. “First I’ll make bad stuff happen, then I’ll become an action hero and rush in to save everybody.”

  “That is so . . .” Words couldn’t describe how pissed-off she was. “Forget the action-hero crap. It’s time to prove you can be a cosmic troublemaker.”

  Mr. Sulky was back. “I’m not going to hook up Taurin and this Kristin Hughes. I want to do really cool stuff, like Ganymede does.”

  Time to take off the gloves. “You have no idea how lucky you are that I plucked you out of the newbie pile. You want to be like Ganymede and run around laying waste to the universe? Fine, in ten thousand years come bac
k and we’ll talk about it. But right now? You make your choice. You don’t want to do things my way, then get your butt back to Beginners’ Central. I hear they’re looking for a troublemaker to take over Septicanus’s job. He was in charge of constipation and other related miseries of the world. Interested?”

  Deimos’s expression was so horrified that Sparkle would’ve laughed if she weren’t so mad.

  “Okay, I’ll take the test.” He looked miserable and a little lost. “Uh, any ideas to get me started?”

  She sighed. You had to have so much patience with the young ones. “First, let Taurin know what Kristin’s up to. Then get them together. Make sure he understands that if she discovers nonhuman entities have found a haven in the park, she’ll write about it, and his cozy home will be only a distant memory. If I know our boy, he’ll take it from there. Vampires hate publicity.”

  What else would further the cause? “Oh, and you might want to plan a beach party. A midnight beach party. Next Monday would be good. Taurin’s off on Mondays, and it’s a full moon. Think of the sensual possibilities—moonlight shining on the water, the sound of the waves, and the breeze drifting over heated bodies. The whole setup screams sex.”

  “Uh-huh.” Deimos looked doubtful.

  “Do it.” She’d finish off by throwing him a little incentive. “Who knows, you might even get a chance to use your action-hero skills before the week is done.”

  His eyes lit up. “Oh, wow. You think so? Guess I’d better get started.” He yanked the door open and was gone.

  Sparkle smiled. Men were so easily manipulated. If nothing else, the week should be good for lots of laughs. And if Deimos screwed things up too badly, she’d step in to help Kristin and Taurin see they were fated for each other.

  Her smile turned wicked. Of course, she’d forgotten to tell Deimos one little thing: Kristin and Taurin already knew each other, and their hate was mutual. God, she loved her work.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Taurin Veris thought about ripping out Deimos’s throat. How long had it been since he’d done something just for the hell of it? Too long.

  Yeah, but then he’d have to listen to everyone bitching at him. So he controlled the urge. Deimos trailed him out of the Castle of Dark Dreams and into the Texas night.

  Taurin gave the “No, uh-uh, won’t do it, definitely not” routine another shot. “Look, I need downtime. I just got back from searching for Dacian in some of the crappiest places on earth and came up empty. So I don’t want to hear about any damn reporter. Get someone else to deal with her.”

  “Everyone else is busy.” Deimos caught up with him. “Sparkle thinks she could be trouble.”

  “Then it’s true, because Sparkle wrote the book on trouble.” If he walked faster, would Deimos give up?

  “No, you don’t get it. She’s an investigative reporter, and she’s here rooting around for a sensational story. She got a tip that Live the Fantasy does all kinds of weird sexual fantasies.”

  “And I’m supposed to care why?” This was an adult theme park. Rumors of sex would sell more tickets. It was all good. Why was Deimos bent out of shape?

  The whites of Deimos’s eyes showed. All the way around. “But what happens if she accidentally finds out there’re a bunch of nonhuman entities living here? You’ll all have to move.”

  That got his attention. He was happy here, and he’d be damned if he’d let another nosy snoop ruin that. It had happened once, but it wouldn’t happen again. “So what’s Sparkle suggest?”

  Taurin usually enjoyed his nightly walk. He could take a look at what was going on in the park, or if he wanted something different, he could cross Seawall Boulevard and walk along the beach. He never tired of the Gulf. Galveston was more home to him than any other place had been in six hundred years. And he intended it to stay that way.

  “Keep her busy. Show her around the park. Don’t give her time to do much poking.” Deimos got more enthusiastic with each word. “I’m planning a midnight beach party for next Monday. Eric, Brynn, and Conall will all be off.” He grinned. “You can bring the reporter with you. Let her see everything’s cool.”

  “You’re planning a beach party?” The only thing Deimos ever planned was his next action-hero move. “Never mind. About this showing-her-around thing, I have a job. I can’t spend all week keeping her nose pointed in the right direction. And what about during the day? Who’s going to keep her out of trouble then?”

  Deimos looked triumphant. “Sparkle took care of that. She told Holgarth about the problem, and he cleared your slate for the week. Now you can spend all the time you want with her. And they just hired a new guy to help with the tours and stuff during the day. A wereshark. Needs to be near the water. He’ll keep her busy while you’re down. I have her name and room number here somewhere.” He rooted around in his pocket until he found a piece of paper. “She’s in room 218, and her name’s Kristin Hughes.”

  “Where the hell does Sparkle get off going to Holgarth about . . .” Taurin rounded on Deimos, every sense alert. “Did you say Kristin Hughes?”

  Deimos nodded, a little uncertain now. “Yeah. You know her?”

  Taurin grew still, that completely motionless state that allowed him to hear even the flow of his victim’s blood. It was the silence of a hunting predator. “Oh, I know her all right. Tell Sparkle I’ll keep the lady so distracted she won’t know which way is up.” Who would’ve thought he’d cross paths with her again? But it looked like the bitch was back.

  Deimos nodded happily and hurried away. Probably afraid Taurin would change his mind if he hung around. No chance of that. He turned back toward the castle, his walk forgotten.

  First he’d tell Holgarth his plans, and the wizard could pass it on to the others. Taurin would have to meet this wereshark. Make sure they were on the same page. Kristin and the shark would be perfect together. They had lots in common—a killer instinct and a taste for blood. Okay, so he had a taste for blood, too. But he liked to think that he retained some semblance of humanity.

  Then he’d pay a visit to Ms. Hughes and welcome her to the Castle of Dark Dreams. So she thought Live the Fantasy was all about sex? He’d give her so much sex to write about that she wouldn’t even notice if Holgarth whacked her over the head with his wand and turned her into a leech. Oh, wait, she already was one. Taurin knew his smile showed lots of fang.

  Kristin Hughes wrote two kinds of stories—the impact of global warming on the United States’ economy kind, and werewolves roaming the Minnesota forests kind. Serious and fluff. The fluff paid better. She was in the Castle of Dark Dreams looking for some heavy-duty fluff.

  She lay sprawled across the crimson bedspread of her decadent four-poster bed, which fit right in with the rest of her authentic-looking castle chamber. The room was all massive dark wood, rich fabrics, and jewel-tone colors. It screamed erotic. A far cry from stumbling through the Minnesota underbrush looking for werewolves.

  But she was after something much different here. A few days ago she’d gotten an anonymous e-mail claiming that the whole park was a sexual playground, not the G-rated, role-playing, fun-for-all place it advertised. She was here to dig up the truth, and if she was really lucky, she’d find kinky sex around every corner. Kinky sex in unexpected places sold like crazy.

  Only one possible dark cloud lurked on her horizon. The last time she’d done a story in Texas, she’d stirred up real trouble for herself. She’d written an article on a group of vampire wannabes in San Antonio. Vampires? How twisted was that?

  She’d paid a mole to infiltrate the group and feed her info. He’d made her think they’d welcome the publicity. Most gatherings of the strange-and-unusual were all about getting attention. Uh, why else would anyone claim he was a vampire?

  Anyway, once the public read her stuff, the curious descended on the weird group. All the publicity scared the vamps off, and they left town toting their coffins behind them. How was she to know they wanted to keep everything hush-hush?

 
Kristin frowned. Now came the bad part. For months afterward, this crazy guy named Veris—maybe that wasn’t even his real name—had made her life hell. He’d found all kinds of creative ways to put a hurting on her career, and he’d made sure she knew it was payback for the San Antonio thing. None of her investigative skills helped her ID him. Once he stopped, she swore she’d never do another Texas story. But here she was. This was too good to pass up.

  Kristin opened her Live the Fantasy brochure and tried to decide where she’d start. They had fantasies going on in the castle right now. It would make sense to take in one of those first. Pretty convenient to have a theme park attraction and hotel all rolled into one. Now or tomorrow night? She was pretty tired after her flight. Maybe she’d wait until—

  A knock interrupted her train of thought. Kristin frowned. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Climbing from the comfort of her bed, she went to the door and opened it.

  Oh. My. God. The man leaning against the doorjamb with arms crossed over his chest was . . . was . . . Okay, need oxygen to keep brain working. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out. Basic description—a little over six feet tall, dark shaggy hair, dark do-me eyes, shirtless, worn jeans riding low on hips, shirtless, scuffed biker boots, and shirtless.

  “Hey, sweetcheeks. I’m Taurin, the castle handyman. Right now I’m Air-conditioning Man, here to save you from a hot night.” Pregnant pause. “Unless a hot night excites you.”

  “Air-conditioning? It’s fine.” Now for the not-so-basic description: broad, bare chest, powerful pecs, impressive abs, and would he notice if she pulled off her top? Yeah, he would. But the sweat wending a meandering path between her breasts was getting on her nerves. Maybe her air-conditioning wasn’t so fine.

  “Oh, I don’t know about that.” He strode past her to the thermostat and stood staring at it. A loud clanking noise came from the air vents and the air shut down. “See. I got here just in time.”