The Polanski Brothers: Home of Eternal Rest Read online

  His words made Joy squirm, so she grabbed hold of his cock and pulled him to her, raising her hips and saying, “You can’t hurt me, Larkin. I dare you to make me scream.”

  And she did.

  Scream that is.

  Long and loud as he drove into her with a forceful thrust that was powerful and hot, embedding himself balls deep in the slick recesses of her cunt.

  Larkin grunted and from beneath hooded eyes she watched him shudder, his powerful body rippling and tensing, driving Joy to push harder against him, to make him come as he had her.

  His glides were rapid and her muscles clung to each one as thunder roared in her ears and the throb in her pussy made her thrash beneath him.

  Joy felt his thick semen wash her inner walls as she came with him and he yelled her name.

  She couldn’t catch her breath as Larkin’s body relaxed against hers and they clung to one another. Her hands roamed his broad back, soothing the tense muscles.

  God, this man is fabulous.

  Larkin lifted his head and smiled at her. “Not bad for a human, huh?”

  Oy.

  * * *

  Joy left Larkin to go do cop things after her father called to tell her he needed her right away at the parlor. She’d given him what she imagined was a “thanks for the good time” goodbye -- or at least that’s what Joy tried to mimic as she wiggled her fingers over her shoulder at him on her way out the door.

  Very Sex and the City, very casual, very let’s do this again sometime.

  She needed to think about the past day or so and she couldn’t do it with Larkin running around in her head.

  As she rushed into the funeral parlor’s back entrance she heard her mother Patrice whispering fiercely to her father in the outer hallway. Joy almost laughed out loud. She didn’t know why they bothered, there wasn’t a soul in the building who couldn’t “hear” them, but they were obviously too engrossed to care.

  “Edgar, I will not have this. I don’t like him!”

  “You don’t know him, Patrice. How can we tell if it’s true or not anyway? Joy can’t, that’s for sure,” her father whispered just as fiercely back.

  She heard the rustle of feet. Uh-oh. Her mother was pacing. She only did that if she was really upset or angry. Patrice’s sigh was exasperated. “Were you reading my mind in there, Edgar?”

  “Well, how could I help it, honey? If you’d written it on a flyer and passed it out it couldn’t have been any more clear.”

  “Well, good, because I’d like to think I know who can handle my baby and that sharp tongue of hers and that in there is a pasty, skinny pretty-boy and I won’t have him for my Joy. I won’t, Edgar!”

  Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop right there. Have whom for her Joy? And who was skinny and white? Joy pressed a hand to her temple and tried to stop the thread of fear that crept up her spine.

  “Joy,” her father called from the hallway. All knowing and all smelling.

  Shit, she forgot they could smell her. Joy ran a hand down her jeans and peeked around the corner. “Hi, Daddy. What’s up?”

  Her mother’s pale, unlined face looked even paler as she held out her hand to Joy. “Give your mother a hug.”

  Joy hugged her mother, and wished just once she could smell the scent that her siblings said brought to mind their mom. Her mother trembled as Joy stood at arm’s length with her. “Mom, what’s wrong?”

  Patrice Polanski bit her lip. “You tell her, Edgar. I simply refuse.”

  Edgar placed his hands on Joy’s shoulders and squeezed them. “We have someone here that claims he knows you.”

  Oh! If Larkin had shown up here making trouble she was going to kick his big ass from here to Gordonville! “Who, Daddy?”

  “Me,” a familiar voice said as it pulled up behind her, close enough for Joy to recognize it. That ominous chill skittered up her spine like it had just last night.

  As Joy turned to face the voice, her parents stood beside her.

  “Hello, Joy. Remember me? Liam? I told you we’d meet again, didn’t I?”

  Joy nodded as her eyes narrowed and her mother hissed in a breath.

  “Honey,” Edgar said as he grabbed Joy’s hand. “This is Liam Krachowsky and he says he’s your lifemate.”

  Holy fucking pretty boy…

  Chapter Seven

  No fucking way! Not even if I have to rip his nose off of his face to prove it -- will I ever believe that pansy-assed, blue-lipped, hair-better-than-mine freak of a vampire is my motherfucking lifemate! And shit, shit, shit. I forgot to clean the damn toilet before I left.

  Joy’s thoughts slammed into Larkin’s head like a screaming freight train.

  Son of a bitch, ass kissing, techno music loving bastard! I’ll be damned if I’ll spend a nanosecond with him, let alone an eternity. I’d rather roll in fresh garlic, drink a gallon of holy water, nail together my own cross and hang myself on it at sunrise, than have him for a lifemate. Crap! Did I remember to water the fern?

  Whoa. She was pissed. As Larkin drove nearer to the Polanskis’ funeral parlor, her thoughts became less muffled and more like he’d tuned in a radio station, losing the static.

  I’ll stake him through the heart myself. I swear it on all things vampire like. I’ll fucking embalm him. Yep, that’s exactly what I’ll do. Hey, Liam, how’d ya like an embalming fluid enema? Oh, hell. I didn’t pay the water bill…

  Liam? Wasn’t that the snotty prick he’d met the other night at the Hole? Larkin wondered.

  It just figures my lifemate would hang out at a place called the Hole. It’s what he crawled out of -- the freak. Where the fuck did I put the freakin’ latex gloves?

  Yep. That was him. What the hell was going on? Larkin parked his car in the back and sat to listen to what Joy was thinking. He knew he shouldn’t, but it wasn’t like he could help it.

  Just because he can smell me and I can’t smell him means we have to friggin’ call my girlfriends and ask them how they feel about the color lavender as a bridesmaid’s dress? I think not, motherfucker. I might not be able to smell, but if this shithead is my lifemate I’ll drink embalming fluid. Soap. I forgot the flippin’ soap.

  He could just picture the cute sway of her ass as she stomped around, cursing this guy Liam. Her petite, tightly packed body was curvy. He had plenty to grab hold of while he drove himself into her with a mindless frenzy he’d never before experienced.

  If this is my lifemate, then I’d rather be dead, which of course is impossible! He’s no Goddamned lifemate of mine.

  Lifemate? Who the fuck did this asshole think he was? He’d better stay the fuck away from Joy -- or he’d kill Liam of the lily white skin.

  Shit. Now where had that very possessive thought come from?

  Yoo hoo. Down here.

  Larkin shifted in the seat and looked at his crotch. Yeah, yeah. His stiff cock was where that had come from. No one set him on fire like this woman did. No one and he’d be fucked and feathered if he’d let some freak like Liam -- vampire or not -- have Joy.

  A vampire.

  Joy was a vampire. It was the most messed up shit he’d ever heard, yet he knew she wasn’t lying. A virgin vampire -- freakier still. He’d felt like a pig last night and then a sense of bullshit ego had taken over as he’d thought about how she’d chosen him after a string of dry centuries.

  She claimed it was different for vampires and he’d have to take her word for it because really, what the hell did he know about vampires but what he’d seen on TV?

  Larkin wanted to be freaked out by this information, but he wasn’t. Somehow it just made sense. It was almost ironic that he could read her mind and she couldn’t read his -- or smell him. It gave him an advantage he wasn’t sure was good, but right now it wasn’t bad, because her thoughts of him were as carnal as his thoughts of her.

  Liam, what kind of a name is that anyway? Sissy name for a sissy vampire.

  Larkin chuckled. Yeah, it was kind of a sissy name.

  How could Alan ha
ve been friends with a man like Larkin and a man like Liam? Larkin heard Joy think.

  Yeah, how was that and why couldn’t he get any information about this guy Liam anywhere? It was like he didn’t exist, but he’d supposedly known Alan.

  Joy’s thoughts became more frantic in his head, running at a rapid speed as she mumbled in her mind. Oh, God. Poor Alan being hacked up by those stupid coroners. God, I hope they don’t see those bites! Shit, shit, shit.

  Shit indeed, Larkin thought.

  Larkin grabbed the handle of his door and shoved it open. His little mistress of the dark had some explaining to do.

  * * *

  “Hey, Elvira,” a voice whispered in Joy’s ear -- scaring the crap out of her and making her drop her tools.

  She smiled wistfully. If only she could claim Elvira’s boobs…

  Whipping around, Joy fell into the very broad chest of her favorite prime-time detective. How the hell did he get in here anyway?

  “I’m a cop. We have ways… and I like your boobs just fine,” he assured her from his looming stance with a wink.

  Joy rolled her eyes at him and fought for breath. His close proximity had a way of stealing it from her lungs in huge, gulp-inducing portions. “So, what’s on tap for tonight, Detective? Are we still hunting vampires? Or have we moved onto other more exciting things, like ghosts or witches?”

  Larkin tipped her chin up and pecked her nose lightly. “Nope, tonight I want to talk about vampire things. What’s it like to be a vampire, Joy?”

  “Um, is this like the getting to know you chapter of our relationship? Because you’ve failed dismally at the wining and dining stage of things.”

  Larkin chuckled and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the outer entrance to the embalming room. He hooked his foot around a swivel chair and plopped down in it, taking her with him.

  Joy sat stiffly on his lap.

  “Okay, so I’ll make it up to you and take you out. Can we buy blood in a six-pack at the local Quickie Mart?”

  Joy crossed her arms over her breasts and then she crossed her eyes at him. “The blood thing is freaking you out, isn’t it, you manly man?”

  He grinned sheepishly. “Um, yeah.”

  Joy sighed and wondered how her cousin Cathy had dealt with her husband Joel and this whole blood explanation. “It’s not a big deal. Blood keeps us undead is all, like food keeps you in the land of the living and if you have a lifemate you feed off of one another. We don’t kill people for it or animals or anything else. It kinda comes to us if you know what I mean.” Joy pointed a thumb at the embalming room with a knowing look.

  “So, what happens if dead bodies don’t show up here needing embalming? No deaths for a week or so. Then what?”

  Joy smiled. “We have a supply of it. I need it to live, but I can have other things too. I just can’t taste them because I can’t smell.” Joy stuck her tongue out and ran her finger over it. “No taste buds.”

  “That totally sucks. You can’t enjoy a good steak or a beer?” he asked, frowning at her as his hands rubbed her back.

  “Well, I couldn’t anyway because I have no sense of smell. So I’m not missing much anyhow.”

  “But blood?” He sounded repulsed.

  Joy shrugged her shoulders and arched into the motion of his hands against her back, which ached a bit from standing all night. “Yep, blood.”

  “So what’s the point of having those pearly white incisors?” Larkin asked as he eyeballed her mouth.

  Joy grinned. “To protect myself from letches like you, of course.”

  Larkin’s gaze became more serious and his hands stopped caressing her back.

  “You wanna see ’em, don’t you?”

  He nodded.

  She sighed. “Men. You’re all such children at heart. Okay, but no passing out, all right? I mean, it wasn’t very detective-like. I could have bitten you and then you’d be just like me.”

  “Show me.”

  Joy opened her mouth and let her incisors lengthen.

  He hissed out a breath before saying, “Friggin’ cool…”

  She snapped her mouth shut. “Yes, Larkin, way cool.”

  “So why did they pop out last night after -- well, after --”

  “You stole my virginity?”

  Now Larkin sighed. “I said I was sorry. I never would have suspected that a woman your age --”

  Putting her hand over his mouth, she smiled. “I’m kidding. Stop it already. During lovemaking it’s common for vampires to ‘feed’ from one another. It’s sort of like foreplay to you humans.”

  “Jesus. Does it hurt?”

  Poking him in the chest she scoffed, “I told you, I have no idea. I was a virgin.”

  “Right. Sorry. Okay, so if you don’t bite people do you wanna explain to me how Alan was bitten? Because you’re the only vampire I know who can help me.”

  Joy froze -- the fucking shit had been listening to her thoughts again! “God dammit, Larkin, get the fuck out of my head, would you?” she yelled into the silence of the parlor.

  Grabbing her shoulders, he forced her to look at him. “Don’t call me names -- not even mentally, Joy Polanski, and it’s not as if I can help this, you know. I didn’t ask to read your thoughts. It wasn’t something I had as a perk I could use on job applications and just decided to choose you as my next source of amusement. It just happened and there isn’t any sense to it all, but it is. So adjust and gimme the skinny or I will stalk your ass from here to kingdom come.”

  She snorted at him. “Like you haven’t already?”

  “I want to know what happened to Alan, Joy, and you know something no one else does so spit it out.”

  “Or what?”

  “Joy…”

  Joy schmoy. She really didn’t have any other choice, now did she? In a way, it might be a relief to just get this crap off her chest. Joy let her head fall back on her shoulders as she prepared to share what she knew about Alan and even Brian.

  “Okay, so when Alan’s body was sent here he’d been on ice for three weeks. I saw nothing unusual about it other than he’d killed himself and he was so damn young. It made me sad… Anyway, it was after the viewing -- the next day. I knew the coroner’s office was going to take Alan’s body back and it pissed me off that he’d have to be -- well --”

  “Cut again,” Larkin confirmed.

  Joy ran her hands over her legs. “Yes, cut again. It just seemed so unnecessary. So I was sort of straightening the pillow under his head when I saw the bites. They’re really small and not the usual variety or at least not like what Joel had when Cathy bit him.”

  Larkin jerked back and looked at her in confusion. “Your cousin?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, Joel was a human.”

  “But you just told me you don’t bite other people.”

  “Not unless they want to be bitten…”

  “He wanted to be bitten? What kind of crap is that?”

  “Yes, Detective, he wanted to be bitten. He fell in love and decided leaving Cathy behind -- because obviously she’d outlive him -- was something he didn’t want to do. So he asked and she complied. We don’t just bite anybody, Larkin, and I’m sick to death of the population at large having this stupid notion that we want to rule the world by turning everyone into one of us! Some humans would make shitty vampires!” Her voice was growing louder and more irritated by the nanosecond.

  Larkin put both of his hands in the air. “Okay. I’m sorry. It just seemed --” He shook his head, tossing his shortly cropped hair. “I don’t know what it seemed like. Finish the story.”

  “The bites on Alan’s neck were very small compared to those that Joel had. His were like hickeys that we teased him unmercifully over. Maybe it was a more bite-skilled vamp? I don’t know and I don’t know why anyone would bite Alan after he’d already killed himself.”

  “Maybe he didn’t kill himself,” Larkin said flatly.

  “That’s just fucking lovely! Do you have any idea what it’
s going to be like if someone finds out about this? The coroner’s office will eat us alive. They’ll eventually think it was us who did this. The Polanskis and I’ll be fucked if I’ll let that happen!”

  “Aren’t you conclusion hopping? I mean, no one knows you’re vampires.”

  Joy pushed off of Larkin’s lap and stood in front of him. “Well, they will if you have anything to say about it, Sherlock,” she said angrily. “You were the one who opened up this damn can of worms with your big shot cop routine here in Small-town-ville.”

  “Do you think someone in your family would do something like this?” he asked quietly.

  She lifted her chin and looked him squarely in his eyes. “No. I don’t think either. I know they wouldn’t do something like this. We don’t bite anyone but our lifemates, ever.”

  “And this Brian?”

  Good gravy, had she thought about him too?

  Larkin’s head bobbed. “Yep, you did.”

  “Same thing. He has small incisor bites just like Alan’s, but he died in a car accident.”

  Larkin rolled his tongue in his cheek. “Where’s Brian’s body?”

  Joy flinched. “Buried. Today.”

  “His body could be evidence.”

  “I know, for Christ sake, but I had a choice to make,” she yelled in defense. “Either let it go or possibly jeopardize my family over a man I can’t save anyway. How do you suppose Brian’s family is going to feel if we call them up and tell them he didn’t die in a car accident? Nah, your son was bitten by a vamp. You know, Dracula and all? That’ll go over really big, Larkin.” Her chest heaved in her tight knit shirt.

  Running a big hand through his hair, Larkin nodded. “I understand, but it’s evidence that might have helped us.”

  “How, Larkin? Who’s going to believe it’s vampires anyway? They’ll probably chalk it up to cult killings or something. You have no idea how often that happens without any of your human cops ever knowing about it.”

  Larkin popped his lips and shook his head as he leaned back and let his long legs stretch out. “It doesn’t change the fact that someone needs to pay for this, Joy. Someone killed Alan and I intend to find out who and why.”