It was too large an area for her to have any hope of ‘patrolling’ it alone. She didn’t even try. She walked around for about twenty minutes, pretended to take a pee, and then headed back.
She’d just reached for the door handle when someone slammed into her from behind, grabbing her arms. Her heart jerked painfully in her chest. "What are you trying to do, get yourself killed?" he growled in her ear.
She was tempted to grind the heel of her boot down on his toes anyway—knowing who it was the instant he spoke—but she refrained. "If I had a weak heart, I’d be dead already," she said through gritted teeth. "I swear to God, Greywolf, one of these times you’re going to sneak up on me and I’m going to end up making us both sorry."
She elbowed him in the stomach when he relaxed his hold on her. He grunted and moved back a step. "You didn’t answer my question," he growled.
"Was that a question? It sounded more like an accusation to me—but the answer is, I’m doing my job. This is what I get paid for—and I don’t intend to stand here arguing with you about it until we alert the killer. Go home. Stay out of my way."
Snatching the car door open, she climbed inside and locked the doors, dropping her gun onto the dashboard within easy reach.
Greywolf glared at her through the window for several moments, his hands on his hips. Finally, he leaned over, placing his hands on either side of the window. "Unlock the door."
"Go home."
"I mean it, damn it!"
"Keep your voice down! --I’m just as serious as you are, so unless you think you can shadow walk into my car, you might as well go."
He stepped back from the car, glared at her for a long moment and—vanished. Charlie, who’d been staring angrily at the front wind shield, glanced quickly toward the side window, thinking he’d moved away. There was no sign of him. When she turned to look to see if he’d gone around the back of the car, a hand came down on her shoulder.
If she’d been able to, she would’ve screamed her head off. Fear turned into pure fury when she whirled toward the threat and discovered in was Greywolf. She launched herself at him, her fingers curled into claws. He caught her wrists, dragged her across his lap. "Stop it!"
She stopped when she’d exhausted herself trying to reach him. She was shaking all over, partly from anger, and partly from the adrenaline rush of fear that deserted her almost as abruptly as it had surged into her system. Slowly, he released his grip on her wrists and slid his arms around her, holding her tightly. "I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry. But I’m not leaving you out here alone."
Charlie lay weakly against him, fighting the surge of warmth that inevitably consumed her whenever he held her close, trying to wrap her mind around what he’d just done. She supposed she hadn’t truly accepted that he could do it. Somewhere in the back of her mind she’d been certain it must be some sort of slight of hand, a trick, maybe some sort of mental manipulation.
Maybe it was, but it was no easier to believe he’d hypnotized her into opening the doors and then allowed her to wake with no memory of having done it than it was to think he’d merely walked through.
Finally, she pulled a little away from him and looked up at him. Before she could think of anything to say, he slipped his hand around the back of her neck and descended upon her as if he meant to consume her, sucking her lips, plunging his tongue into her mouth, dragging it possessively along hers then along the sensitive inner flesh of her cheeks. It was an assault upon her senses that drove past her defenses before she could even erect them. Desire blazed a debilitating swath through her, became a conflagration that consumed will, thought and the strength from her muscles. It drenched her vaginal passage, made the walls contract with need.
The primal urge to feel and taste him replaced reason. She tore at his shirt, shoving her hand inside when the snaps parted, leaving his shirt open to his waist, running her hands over his bare chest, his belly. He slid lower. With his free hand, he grasped one cheek of her ass, dragging her higher. Arching his hips, he ground his erection against her thigh. She spread her legs as wide as she could in the confined area, trying to angle her body so that he was rubbing against her throbbing clit. He grazed her clit with each undulation of his hips, teasing her until she was shaking with need.
She broke the kiss, replaced her hands with her mouth, licking his skin, nipping at him, fighting his belt and the fastening of his jeans with shaking, clumsy fingers. She slid off him, into the floorboard when she finally managed to free his cock. He flinched all over when she put her mouth over the head of his cock and sucked. Gripping her shoulder, the back of her head, he let out a ragged groan that was part protest, part ecstasy.
She ignored him, sucking him greedily. He twisted after a moment, caught her under the arms and dragged her onto his lap again, kissing her. For several moments, he struggled to situate her on his lap, brushing the head of his cock up and down her cleft. Finally, it filtered through both their minds that there wasn’t enough room for his legs and her feet between the seat and the dash. He twisted again, laying her down on the seat. She bumped her shoulder on the steering wheel on the way down, and then bumped her head on the armrest of the door. The pain, slight as it was, broke through her haze, but she ignored it, reaching for him as he tried to move over her. His head made painful contact with the rearview mirror, knocking it sideways, as he tried to maneuver over her.
"Shit! God damn it!" he swore, subsiding, resting one hip on the edge of the seat.
Charlie giggled a little hysterically, panting with both desire and effort. Struggling, she managed to drag herself up the car door so that Greywolf could sit down again. He rubbed his head, glared at her and finally grinned a little sheepishly. He slid down in the seat after a moment, thrust his throbbing cock back into his shorts and scrubbed his hands over his face, making no attempt to fasten his jeans again. "That was an exercise in futility," he muttered.
Charlie sat up straighter and tried to adjust her own clothes. Her entire body was throbbing with unrequited desire, but her mind had cleared enough for reality to intrude. "An excise in stupidity, more like," she muttered.
He glared at her. She shook her head. "I just can’t figure it out."
He frowned, his lips tightening with anger. "What?"
"Why it is that all you have to do is touch me and I completely loose my mind. This is a dangerous situation."
Greywolf sighed, the anger leaving him. "You really think he’ll show?"
"Yes. That wasn’t what I was talking about though."
Before she could say anything else, something landed on the trunk of the car with a crash that made it bounce on its springs. Charlie grabbed the gun from the dash, releasing the door lock at the same time. Wrenching the door open, she dove out, landing on her back, her gun trained on the top of the car.
He bounded away even as she fired her first shot. Scrambling to her feet, she raced after him, ignoring Greywolf’s warning shout as he, too, bailed from the car. Dimly, she realized he was hampered by the fact that his pants were still unfastened. She had no intention of waiting for him, however, and loosing sight of her quarry. In any case, he was unarmed.
The skin walker had bounded into the brush some fifteen feet from the car. She skidded to a halt, watching for movement. He erupted from the brush abruptly, leaping straight at her. She fired, then dove for the ground. He caught her a glancing blow on one arm and pain exploded through her. Her gun flew from her hand as she hit the ground jarringly.
As she scrambled for it, he caught her by one ankle. Whirling, she kicked him in the face with every ounce of strength she could put behind it. Blinding pain shot through her ankle and up her leg to her knee. Her back up pistol fell from her boot. Jack-knifing up right, she grabbed for the pistol. She’d barely stunned him however. He reached for it first. Even as he did so, something huge materialized out of the darkness, bowling him over. Charlie’s heart jumped into her throat. It was Greywolf, she saw, struggling to hold the man/beast at arm’s
length, his teeth gritted as he dodged the skin-walker’s snarling bites toward his throat.
Whirling, Charlie looked around frantically for her pistols and finally spied the 45. She launched herself toward it, screaming in pain when she tried to use her throbbing ankle. Her scream distracted both of them, but the skin walker was far less concerned about her than Greywolf. The distraction cost him. He lost his grip and leapt backward as the skin walker swiped at him with his claws, slicing his upper arm. In pursuit now, the killer launched himself toward Greywolf.
"Get out of the way!" Charlie yelled, grabbing up her gun at last and rolling so that she had the gun aimed directly at the skin walker. Greywolf vanished abruptly and the skin walker landed hard on the ground. Stunned, he glanced quickly around, but he didn’t waste more than two seconds looking for Greywolf. He growled when he spied her, gathering himself to leap at her.
"I’ll kill you if you so much as move in my direction, you son-of-a-bitch."
Something flickered in his eyes, perhaps a moment of doubt, but it vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared. Snarling, he launched himself at her. Greywolf’s shot caught him in the shoulder. Charlie fired one into his lung and one into his thigh.
He landed on top of her, stunning her.
Greywolf rolled him off of her with a sharp kick in his side. He struggled to get up but finally subsided, breathing harshly.
Charlie pushed herself upright as Greywolf knelt beside her, keeping her gun leveled on the doctor as he slowly transformed once more from man/beast, to no more than a man garbed in the skin of a puma.
"You all right?" Greywolf asked sharply.
"I think I sprained my ankle when I kicked the son-of-a-bitch in the head—can you get my cuffs while I watch him?"
Greywolf straightened, studied Doctor Bob for several moments and finally nodded.
"I need help," Doctor Bob gasped when he’d left.
"Don’t worry. You’ll get it."
He subsided, laboring for breath. "Why didn’t you just kill me when you had the chance?" he gasped.
"You think I’d let you off that easy after what you did to those kids? You’re going to sit in jail, waiting for execution. I want you to have plenty of time to think about it before the fry your ass."
Chapter Seventeen
Greywolf shouldered his way into his bedroom and strode across to the bed, settling Charlie carefully. "How’s the ankle?"
Charlie sighed. "The painkiller’s kicked in. It’s still throbbing but it doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as it did. How’s your arm?"
"Probably about the same as yours," he said dismissively, turning and striding into the bathroom that opened up off the master bedroom. She settled back on the pillows, closing her eyes as she heard the sound of running water.
He was back in a few minutes with a damp washcloth. Urging her to sit up, he carefully removed the wig and tossed it aside. Then, catching her face in one hand, he began carefully removing the makeup. He smiled faintly as he washed the makeup off. "There’s one freckle."
Charlie glared at him. "No wisecracks about my freckles."
"I love your freckles."
Charlie looked up at him quickly, suspecting he was teasing her. His expression was serious, however.
He frowned, returning his attention to removing the makeup. "You’re going to be laid up with that ankle a while. You could stay here—with me."
"I couldn’t impose—besides, the women around here would be ready to cut my throat," she added, only half joking.
Anger glittered in his eyes. "I’m not going to apologize for anything I did before I met you, Charlie."
"I’m not asking you to."
"If you just don’t feel anything for me, I guess I can learn to live with it—guess I’ll have to, but if this is all about women I’ve got no interest in—it just pisses me off, Charlie."
Charlie sighed. "I just don’t think I’d be any good at this, John. I don’t want to get hurt."
"You know I’d never hurt you on purpose."
"But that’s exactly the point! I love you. I fell for you like a--ton of bricks and the more I’m around you, the worst it gets."
Greywolf glanced at her sharply, his expression arrested. "Say that again."
Charlie frowned. Her mind had begun to wander just a tad from the medication. "What did I say?"
"You said you loved me."
"I did?" she hedged.
He growled, shoving her back against the pillows and kissing her. When he lifted his head at last, Charlie had to struggle to open her eyes.
"Say it," he commanded grimly.
"You didn’t say it to me," she pointed out.
"You crazy white woman! Do you think I’d be chasing you all over the state if I didn’t?"
Charlie felt her heart speed up. "Is that it? You’re not even going to say those three little words?"
He studied her for several moments. "Will you marry me?"
Charlie stared at him. "That’s four."
He stood up abruptly and began to strip his clothes off as he moved around to the other side of the bed. More than a little startled, Charlie merely gaped at him for several moments, but heat suffused her as she watched him. When he’d finished, he placed a knee on the mattress and crawled toward her, a predatory gleam in his eyes.
Charlie reached for him, rolling to her side to meet him half way. Desire burgeoned inside of her as it always did the moment he touched her, but the residual effects at their aborted attempt earlier fueled the fire in her even more. She was tugging at him before their mouths even connected in a searing kiss, demanding his weight on top of her. He moved closer, his hands shaking with his attempt to restrain himself and move carefully. Despite that, he bumped her ankle. She gasped, but gripped him tighter when he stiffened, tried to move away again.
She reached for him, sliding her hand down his taut belly to wrap her fingers tightly around his engorged member, massaging him, guiding him toward the aching wetness between her legs. He caught her thigh, draping her injured leg over his hip, nudging her opening. The throb in her ankle warred with the throb in her sex. Firmly, she closed her mind to it, shifting, moaning with pleasure when she felt him rubbing her cleft and finally pushing inside of her.
It was torture, trying to get close enough to feel him deeply inside her as she needed to. As he reached between their bodies and began to tease her clit, however, she forgot about everything else, arching against him, gasping each time he slid inside of her and out again.
He bit down on her shoulder, sucked it. "Tell me you love me."
Charlie groaned.
"You love me."
"Yes!"
He kissed her, thrusting his tongue roughly into her mouth, sucking her tongue into his own. The sensation sent wild jolts through her, brought her near the brink. She tensed all over, cried out as she felt it explode through her. He sucked her tongue harder, thrust harder inside of her and abruptly shuddered with his own release.
Gasping, he dropped his head to her shoulder. "I love you, Charlie. Marry me."
"Yes," she gasped.
He lifted his head. "You’ll marry me?"
She managed a smile, nodded.
"Because you love me?"
"Because I’m tired of fighting."
He frowned.
She lifted her head and nipped him on the chin. "I already told you I was mad about you. I—love—you, John Greywolf."
He grinned, finally settling back against the pillows. "Tomorrow."
Her head came off the pillow. "Tomorrow!" she echoed.
"I’m not giving you time to think it over."
She’d was drifting off when he spoke again.
"You knew it was Dr. Morris?"
Shaking herself awake, she nodded, then yawned. "It was the condoms. I kept staring at them, trying to figure out what didn’t seem to fit about them—finally, I remembered the posters at the schools, and the one at the clinic—and I realized the condoms didn’t look right beca
use they didn’t have any brand names on the packaging. I knew then that they must have come from the clinic, and that tied all the victims to a common link. At first, it still didn’t seem to fit. I figured the skin walker had to be American Indian, and Dr. Morris couldn’t be the killer. I called Chief Brown and got him to do a background check—which is when we found out he’s half—His mother was Seminole. He grew up on a reservation in Florida."
"So ... you got your man, Ms. FBI," he said, smiling faintly.
She lifted an arm and draped it around his neck. "Yes, I did."
The End
The Shaman Page 10
