Golden Throat (Cable Denning Mystery Series Book 1)

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Golden Throat (Cable Denning Mystery Series Book 1) Page 43

by James P. Alsphert


  Then a voice spoke behind me. “Welcome…to my palace…I hope Hanu Long, my golden dragon, did not frighten you. I am Daiyu Guang.”

  I knew I had heard that name before. “No…your dragon was kind…and even the green flame felt good. Seems to me I’ve heard your name before—”

  “—I am Lei-tao’s teacher. You know why you are here. Lei-tao has violated the precepts of her station. Such an act upsets the balances in all our dimensional planes. You might say it is a chain reaction. Using secrets she has learned, she modified her female body to accommodate her ovum in order to receive your seed. But you must realize, this cannot be, nor can the embryo reach maturation.”

  I stood opposite this lovely creature, who measured no more than five-feet. Everything about her was delicate and her face shone with goodness and her dark, almond eyes spoke only kindness toward me. She wore a golden tunic with a glowing light-golden cord belt and golden pearl slippers. “I’m sorry for all of it. It was my fault. When I helped her replace the Fen de Fuqin and we experienced tantric sex in the Cave of the Seven Truths, I kind of went overboard and began to desire her as a man would desire a normal woman. I thought I could bring her a pleasure she’d never had before—”

  “—or was ever intended to have, Honorable Mr. Denning. But at the risk of your own life, you have helped us all restore the Tone of Creation. We have watched as you are again threatened by the evil ones. We can help. But only to a certain extent. Your dimensional world is not ours, you must surely understand.”

  “Yeah, I do. I just wish there was some way I could make amends for what I helped cause.”

  “The burden lies in the heart of Lei-tao, Honorable Mr. Denning. She has to come to terms with being accountable to her own kind. The child cannot and will not be born.”

  I took a deep breath. I could still hear that magnificent music playing high above us. “That music…I know the instruments…especially the mandolin-like sound of the liuqin. It is so…so tranquillizing…”

  “Yes, music heals, Honorable Mr. Denning. You must return to your world, now that I have told you the truth—which we know, you embrace with such devotion and dedication.”

  “Yeah, well, thanks, ma’am.” I didn’t know what else to say. It was as if I couldn’t be polite enough around this exquisite little being. “May I call you Daiyu Guang?”

  “If you like. I must send you back now…we will do what we can to assist you…be kind and understanding to Lei-tao…”

  “Will you punish her?” I asked as I could feel myself being pulled back down the corridor of the palace.

  “No…forgive her,” came the answer.

  Suddenly I was rolling and moaning on my bed, dripping wet from sweat and tears. “Mi amor! Mi amor! Mi pobre muchacho! It is okie-dokie, Cable. It is me, Adora.” She was dabbing my face with a cool, wet cloth.

  “Adora!” I reached up for her and pulled her down to my mouth. I kissed her until there was only wetness between us. I could never have enough of this beautiful woman who flitted in and out of my life like a magic fairy. “I had this incredible dream!” I finally said, trying to sit up in bed. She sat beside me. “I was in this castle or palace that was completely Chinese and beautiful. A golden dragon flew me into the clouds and to this place, you see, after a bunch of Red Dragon Ladies—" I stopped. What use would it be to tell anyone. “Anyway, it wasn’t a nightmare, Adora, but a beautiful dream.”

  She smiled at me. “Beautiful like you, mi amor. What can I do for you?”

  “Just lay here beside me, quietly. Listen to my heart and tell me I’m still here, alive and really looking at your incredible face, mi querido.”

  I scooted over and she rolled her wonderful body close to mine. We just lay there in the early afternoon, not speaking, not touching…only content to be in each other’s presence.

  Just before sunset I awakened to feel Adora’s soft, warm lips gently touching my cheek. I turned my head to look at her and the smile she gave me melted away all possibility that danger could even exist in this world—or maybe it was just our world. It seemed safe and protected by some unseen god whose hands pushed us together ever so delicately, smiling to know that we had found each other in this life.

  Then she got up and sat on the bed. “Cable…yo temo, mi favorito. That hombre terrible who comes esta tarde. Does he come back to hurt us?”

  I sat up and put my hand on her shoulder. “Naw…he just wants something I used to have,” I said, underplaying it. “On that San Francisco trip, to Chinatown—you remember—after they tied you up and dumped Anne Banning’s body in the middle of our room? Well, since they haven’t got it, they think I know more than I do—”

  “—do you, señor?” she asked, checking out my eyes. I could never lie to Adora, her warm brown eyes went right to those deepest places in me. “Yeah, babe, I do. Much to the curse of it all, they know I do, somehow. And they’re willing to do whatever it takes to get it. I bought some time today. Maybe a couple of weeks."

  “O mi querido!” she cried and held on to me. “Venga con me, mi corazón—we go to Mexico—I have an abuela en la ciudad de Ensenada. They never find us…Cable…”

  “Thanks, Adora, but there’s no escaping these guys. They’re everywhere. We just gotta lay low. Besides, you forget, I’m getting married in four months.” I winced in saying what I had to say. “And I keep telling myself—and you—that I can’t see you anymore…but neither of us seem to believe that, do we?”

  She lifted her long skirt, pushed me down on the bed and mounted me. She bent down and kissed my lips while undoing my pants. “Make love to me, mi amor! Never stop making love to me!” she sighed breathlessly. Soon we were lost once more in that perfect ecstasy that this rare and beautiful young woman always brought to me. I could no more refuse her love than stop the oceans from coming to the shore. The Fates were perverse, I thought. They had given me ecstasy through the forest of agony. When would the other shoe drop, I wondered?

  It was about 10:30 p.m. when I dragged myself over to Honey’s. I saw a light on and knocked on the door. Zelda Blodgett answered. “Gees, Cable! You look terrible—those dark circles under your eyes. You need some of my aloe vera plant rubbed on them.”

  “Hello, Zelda. I’d go for a stiff shot of gin—or whatever you and Honey are drinking these days.”

  “You know I don’t drink—except that time when you took me out and got me drunk at the night club. And Honey? I don’t think she drinks alcohol much either. Bad for her voice. I make sure she has a glass of warm water with a squeeze of fresh lemon and honey before she goes to work—if I’m here, that is.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ll scrounge around for what I can find. How’ve you been?”

  “Well, I’m still date-less, and boyfriend-less, if that’s what you mean. I just don’t seem to connect with the guys at school. I think I told you that already. I just loved our time together. I’ll bet you make all girls feel like real women when you talk to them, dance with them—and—ahem!—you know…”

  I felt like teasing the straight-laced little bookworm. “No, I—I don’t know exactly what you mean, Zelda. Fill me in.”

  “You know…the sex thing…I mean, the overture stuff…kissing, undressing, feeling skin to skin, touching private places, feeling your temperature rise and your pulse quicken—like plants have a rather dull life compared to humans.”

  “I think you’re right on that one. But you know, I wouldn’t mind being a plant just about now in my life…”

  “What do you mean?”

  “At the moment I’ve got a lot of pressure on top of me and being a plant—you know, sunshine, water, a little fertilizer and some tender care—they’ve got it made.”

  “I never thought of it that way, Cable. I kind of feel that way, too, though. I would love a man to be on top of me, smile his sunshine on me, water me with praise now and then, fertilize me—ummm, pretty often—and hold me with tender love every night.”

  Poking around the kitchen cupboa
rds I found a half-full unmarked bottle of gin I had left ages ago. I got a snifter. “Do you want a shot?”

  “Sure, why not? I’m safe with you. I can drink and tell you the things I’m feeling and you won’t take advantage of me, right?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t go that far, kid,” I teased her and laughed. “All depends how horny I am and who’s around to take care of it.”

  Zelda blushed. “I offered that to you…last time we went out…and you wouldn’t even come in and dance with me some more.” I poured her drink and she gulped it all down. “Oh! Whew! That burns! So where does that leave us? I still dream of our night together—and I dream about you, Mr. Denning…very naughty stuff, I’m afraid.” She pushed her snifter in my direction and I re-filled it. “It’s so hard to get started. I mean, if I dress up and go out to a place where Honey started for ten cents a dance, I’m just going to attract the wrong kind of guy. So where do I find the right kind of guy? I get feelings just like any other girl, and I really get tired of just satisfying myself with my fingers—ooops! I didn’t mean to say that, sorry…” she said, turning a very bright red.

  “It’s okay, Zelda. It’s natural. I wonder if plants masturbate?” We both let out a howl of laughter and Zelda fell over toward me, laughing on my shoulder. Then she pushed her lips onto mine and kissed me with a gin-scented kiss. “Whoa! What was that about?” I asked, pulling back.

  “Pent up passion, Cable. Stupid, uncontrollable pent up desire—the kind that fantasizes about you—and it’s stupid because all you ever did was take me out once for dinner and a dance!” She began to weep. That was all I needed. So we spent the next forty-five minutes drying her tears and re-affirming that one day Mr. Right would come along for her.

  A little after midnight Honey came through the door looking pretty beat herself. She saw us in the kitchen and entered. She sized up the situation. “Getting my roommate drunk again, eh?” she chided in her wonderful light-hearted way. “You know, Zelda, as soon as we’re married, I am getting a ball and chain for this guy here. Wherever he goes, seduction follows.” She came over and kissed me. Then she looked at Zelda. “I’m not, however, going to kiss you…”

  “You’re looking a bit crimped around the edges tonight, doll,” I said.

  “Yeah, well, that has to do with seduction, too. Some millionaire mafia playboy has been targeting me for his next bedroom playmate—and the club is too scared to call him off because he brings in so much business.”

  “Do you want me to cool his britches outside of the club?”

  “No, Cable, I don’t want you involved. I’ll handle it. Affonso does his best, but he’s only the manager of the club. The back room belongs to the big players—and owners.” She looked at both of us. “So, lover man, I’m beat and going to take a long bath. Which of us will you bed tonight?” she tittered. “One of us will be clean, the other smell like a plant.”

  “Honey! That’s not fair!” Zelda fought back. “It’s true, I always talk sex around Cable. But you know it’s—it’s really—”

  “—yeah, I know, Zelda. Relax. So, Cable, you either take a bath with me or warm up the bed—which will it be?”

  “As tempted as I am to see you nude and play with you in the tub, I think I’ll be the bed-warmer tonight.” I was thinking about my late afternoon tryst with Adora and the thrill of it still buzzed in my groin. Honey went on and I said good night to Zelda. I watched her walk slowly down the hall toward her little room. In a way I felt sorry for this attractive young woman hidden behind glasses, books and plants. “Zelda…I’m not sure there’s a definite answer for your predicament, but if I were you, I’d look for someone who’s already a professional in the plant world—that way you’d really have a lot in common.”

  She stopped and turned around to look at me. “Damn, Cable, you know, I never thought of that. I’ve been looking in school for Mr. Right—maybe I could get a summer job in a lab or something and meet him there!”

  “Now you’re talkin’, kid,” I said with a big grin. “Good night.”

  I stripped and crawled under the covers. I was exhausted from the long and wearing day. I was thinking about Nazar Ravna and that insane Oculus order of his. For them, it was like a game of pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey and I was the jackass getting pinned. I decided not to worry Honey about the events of the day. There had to be a way out. Then a light went on in my head. Crazy Jack! I’d check with Crazy Jack! That little guy was hooked up to something, like Madame Palladino, he was plugged into other dimensions beyond the veil of our common everyday experience. That made me feel better.

  Honey came in and started combing her lovely honey-colored hair in front of the dresser mirror. She was looking through the glass at me in the bed. “You know, Mr. Denning, you’re really a fine looking young man.”

  “You mean, for a young old gumshoe, that is, eh?” I chuckled.

  “Maybe…but I like your looks. Smooth looking but chiseled at the same time. It’s almost as if your parents couldn’t make up their minds who you’d look like. But it doesn’t matter, I like what I see…”

  “Well, thank you, Miss Combes, alias Lana Loren.”

  She finished and came over, got on her knees on top of the bed and sidled over to me. “I’ve composed a song for you. Wanna hear it?”

  I was moved. “Really? No one has ever done that for me, babe. Yeah, sure, I’m all ears.”

  She stretched out on top of the bed, resting her head in the palm of her right hand. Well, promise you won’t laugh. I can get pretty sentimental when it comes to you, Mr. Private Dick.”

  “I promise.”

  “It’s not really finished yet. But here goes. ‘Will you dance with me, 'til the music stops playing…dance with me, never let me go…will you kiss my heart and say that you love me, so I’ll know…Long ago I dreamed that a boy like you would come…and dance with me…freeing my lips to say I adore you, that I’m for you…and hope you might adore me, too…’ That’s all I’ve got so far,” she said as she stopped singing.

  “That’s great, darlin’! Sing it again…see if I can follow along…” She began singing and I joined in as best I could in my quasi-baritone. There in the mid of night on a little street in nowhere, U.S.A., my betrothed and I sang. When we finished, we laughed together. I grabbed her and brought her lips to my own. “Thank you…I love you, lady…”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll finish it someday.” She turned the light off and slid into bed with me. “You know, lover, once upon a time you said I was like a goddess when you made love to me. Do you still feel that way?”

  “You bet I do, babe. And I still feel like I’m one of the luckiest guys in the world. Any man who has you, holds the best this world has to offer in his arms, Honey Combes.”

  “That’s nice to hear, Cable. We don’t say those things much anymore. I hope that isn’t a preview of married life. I couldn’t stand it if our love making ever got worn down, worn out and old hat.”

  “Yeah, me, too. It’s up to us. I know I’ve been a bit remiss lately. But all that’s over now. We’re planning our wedding, our lives together, and we’re happier than we’ve ever been.”

  “Oh, Cable…yes…yes…” She said that and rolled over on top of me, kissing me. Then she ground her pubic area into mine until she got the right response and moved her tongue down the middle of my body until she was holding most of my erect manhood in her mouth. Soon we had merged into that wonderful lighted moment and it reminded me of one of the most excellent reasons I loved my future wife, the beautiful Honey Combes, the magnificent 'Golden Throat'.

  Friday’s Child

  Crazy Jack wasn’t in his apartment. I went searching the streets for his possible whereabouts. This part of skid row was seedy, unkempt and filled with every imaginable kind of human—or maybe non-human—that one could imagine. Characters on every corner, having slid through the slats of life to this, a daily cacophony and parade of panderers, alcoholics, prostitutes, drug pushers, marginally functional peopl
e like Crazy Jack who were only a few steps away from a nut house—and the usual assortment of those who fed off of each other for survival. It seemed strange to me that Skid Row was located so close to Main Street and its environs. Seems it’s an area that should bring visions of a wholesome America and white-washed homes and businesses, clean streets and moral upright citizens living the good life. But no, this was the slum, the bottom of the barrel.

  I turned a corner and passed a bar. The stench of dirty sawdust, beer and stale tobacco smoke filled my nostrils. Suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Cigarette! Cigarette!” I turned to see Crazy Jack’s anxious face and darting eyes. “See Denning! Think of Cable…is Crazy Jack…but I don’t know! I don’t know! Cigarette!”

  “Jack! Good to see you, old boy. In fact, I was just looking for you at your place.” I reached in my pocket for a pack of Lucky Strikes. In the usual ritual, I took one out, gave it to this poor nervous creature in front of me and tucked the rest of the pack into a half-torn suit jacket he was wearing. “I need your help, Jack. Let’s walk…” He followed me like an obedient dog as he puffed away. We walked a block before we found a quiet little area with a brown lawn and lumps of animal crap everywhere. “The bad guys are back, Jack. Frankly, I’m feeling a bit wary about the whole thing. I mean, it could get real ugly. What do you think?”

 

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