Kissing Chaos

by Jill Knowles

  * * * * *

  Not even the outrageously high gas prices or the station attendant’s snotty attitude made a dent in Dax’s fabulous mood. He’d fucked an incredible woman last night, she’d given him a primo hand job this morning, and there was every indication he’d get to fuck her again tonight. The discovery of a lifetime awaited him less than thirty miles from town, and the weather was balmy and perfect for hiking.

  He signed the credit card slip with a flourish, winked at the pimply-faced teenager who’d pumped his gas, and started Bertha. If her tires squealed leaving the station’s parking lot, well, that was none of his doing. Popping a Spanish guitar CD into the player, he headed west out of town.

  * * * * *

  Belting out Private Dancer along with Tina Turner, Maggie buttoned and zipped her tan linen slacks, leaving the red sleeveless blouse untucked. A quick glance at the clock told her she still had twenty minutes before she had to be at the library. Should I walk? She checked the contents of the refrigerator. Nope, she’d need to hit the grocery store on the way home if she wanted to offer her guest more than leftovers and bottled water.

  I do have time to start some sun tea, though. She opened the cupboard and pulled out her sun tea jar. It had a bright red cap and spigot, as well as a pattern of watermelon slices and insanely cheerful ants all over it. She and Julie had found it on a trip through the dollar store in Klamath Falls last year.

  As she filled the jar with water and added tea bags, she checked her feelings toward her friend. It still hurt that Julie had slept with Billy, but the hurt was segueing into anger and a growing determination to know just what the hell Julie had been thinking. When the tea was ready, she placed it in a sunny spot on the front porch and locked the front door. Julie was off work today, so the confrontation between the two of them would have to wait. Meanwhile, it was a beautiful day, and she had a hot date planned for tonight. Life was good.

  * * * * *

  On mornings like this -- with the warm sunshine and endless blue sky teasing him into driving too fast down the highway -- Dax was sorry he’d cut his hair so short. Then again, speeding down the road in his open-topped Jeep was exactly the reason he’d done it. Combing knots out of his thick, wavy hair hadn’t been any fun, and his attempt at dreadlocks had been an abysmal failure. He’d looked like a refugee from a nineties grunge band. He shuddered. Cutting them off had been the only option. And anyway, Maggie seemed to like his short hair just fine.

  Mmmmmm. Maggie. Beautiful, sexy, uninhibited, and smart as a whip. Sensual and playful and sweet as apple honey. He’d never had such a strong reaction to a woman. Even Gina hadn’t gotten him so turned on that he nearly let his true nature surface by accident, thank the powers. Gina’s response to his true form had been bad, enough even after he’d warned her about what she was going to see. If he’d changed in the middle of making love? He shuddered to think what her reaction would have been. But maybe things could be different with Maggie. Maybe she’d accept him as he was.

  Too bad I won’t get the chance to find out. He’d only be in town for another week or so, and then it was on to the next assignment.

  * * * * *

  Maggie’s jaw dropped when she reached the front door of the library. Sean and Junior were in the little sheltered alcove to one side of the door, oblivious to the world as they devoured each other. Junior stood with his back to her, pressing his lover up against the wall. Sean’s legs were wrapped around Junior’s waist, his arms tight around Junior’s shoulders and neck.

  Jeez, guys, PDA much? I thought Sean wanted to be accepted by the town, not give everyone a free show. She fumbled with her keys, dropping them twice before managing to unlock the door. A glance toward the two men told her that neither of them had noticed. As she stepped inside, she scolded herself. I should not be turned on by that. It annoys the hell out of me when guys go on and on about seeing two women together, and here I am, soaking my panties over seeing two guys try to suck each other’s tonsils out. But, damn, that was hot. She turned on the cooler and then went to her office. She checked her desk for any messages left by the night crew, relieved when there were none. Sitting behind her desk, she rested her chin in her hands and stared down at the bane of her existence -- the library budget.

  They were going to have to either close on Saturdays or cut at least ten hours during the week. They could open at ten instead of nine. That would get her six hours. And maybe close at eight or eight thirty in the evening instead of nine? Closing at eight would net her the rest of the hours she needed, but many of her regulars were mill workers, who didn’t get off work until seven. That didn’t leave much time for them to get to the library, let alone browse through the books. Okay, so I juggle the hours, staying open only a few nights a week. We could open at ten every morning, but only stay open half-days on Mondays. That stupid ordinance only required that they be open each business day, it didn’t say they had to be open all day.

  She looked up at the framed photograph of the library circa 1911. Keily had been a vibrant, constantly growing and changing boomtown back then. The timber and ranching industries were at their highest peaks, and there was talk of building a community college in town. The First World War had stopped those plans, then an extended drought, the Depression, and World War II. Somehow, the town had never quite rediscovered that early prosperity.

  So. She needed to get a tentative agenda worked out, and double-check it against the current schedule of events. She turned on her computer. She’d type up the proposal and get it to the city council before the next meeting on Tuesday night.

  “Ahem.”

  Pasting on a shit-eatin’ grin, she looked up. Sean’s face matched his hair.

  “Uh ...”

  “I got here about ten minutes ago.” She was enjoying this far too much.

  “Um ...” He looked everywhere but at her. “I forgot my keys at home.”

  “Really?” She watched the red tide sweep from his neck up into his hairline. “While I was unlocking the door, I was a bit distracted, and managed to drop my keys on the ground.” She waited a beat. “Twice.”

  He collapsed into the chair across from her, burying his head in his hands. “Just shoot me now.”

  “Twice?”

  He glared at her. “I’m going to tell my boyfriend that you’re being mean to me.”

  Her grin widened. “Please do. I’d love to see if the look on his face tops yours.” Junior was more difficult to embarrass, but she’d managed it a time or two.

  Sean hunched down into the chair. “You’re an evil woman, Maggie Monroe.”

  “I try.” She debated for a moment, then added, “That was pretty dangerous. Not everyone would just tease the crap out of you.”

  “I know.” Sean rubbed his fingers over his eyes. “We didn’t mean for it to happen.” He looked up at her, and then changed the subject. “My brother asked me not to come to his son’s birthday party.”

  Heart aching for her friend, Maggie reached a hand toward him. “Damn, Sean. I’m sorry. Did he give a reason?” She was pretty sure she knew why. And she also knew her friend. If Sean wanted to talk, he’d answer, if not, he’d just shrug.

  Sean rested his hand in hers. “My brother’s afraid my sins are going to contaminate his family, that my parents accepting me is what’s causing the ranch to fail.” His hand tightened convulsively on hers as tears filled his eyes. “Who knew love could cause a drought?”

  * * * * *

  The itchy sensation between his shoulder blades got stronger the closer he was to the low ridge. It wasn’t the sensation of being watched, but one of danger. He remembered Maggie’s words. “It feels like something quick and vicious could jump out at you any minute.” It was a perfect description, and matched what he knew of other places where Furies had tracked down an oathbreaker. He’d never felt anything close to this scale, though. What had the people of that village done? He shuddered, glad Three-Gramps hadn’t known.

  The cliff face on the wes
t side of the ridge had a large rock pile at one end, composed mainly of good-sized boulders. The few juniper trees that grew nearby were twisted and stunted, and the brush was sparse and full of burrs. Dax pulled off his backpack and set it down next to a juniper about ten feet away from the rock pile. He raised his head to scent the air, finding nothing but the scent of dust and juniper. He studied the rocks, looking for any signs of weakness. The stone was dark gray granite, spotted with nubbly, irregular circles of yellow-green and orange mold. There were no obvious cracks or other visible flaws.

  Taking a deep breath, ready for anything, he walked forward and rested his hands against a boulder about the same size as Bertha.

  The jolt that tore through him turned everything to a furious bloody haze. Dax came back to himself snarling and clawing at the boulder, his talons digging deep furrows into the rough granite.

  “Shit.” He stumbled backward, wrapping his arms around his chest in a self-hug, tail lashing around him like a whip. The echo of magic lingered here. Powerful, vengeful magic. Whatever had called the Furies down on this village had been big. Really big.

  Dax looked down at his claws and decided he wasn’t even going to attempt to shift back to his human form. There was no one nearby to see him. He sat down and unlaced his hiking boots, setting them and his socks next to his backpack in the Jeep’s passenger seat. Squaring his shoulders, he walked forward and put his hands back on the rock. The jolt he received wasn’t as bad this time. He surveyed the pile, his eyes finding a relatively flat looking rock near the top of the pile, about fifteen feet up. He crouched and leaped upward, landing easily.

  The magical buzz was a rough vibration against the soles of his bare feet. Dax gritted his teeth and endured, promising himself a long, hot soak later as a reward. The top rock was pressed tightly to the cliff face, leaving only a few places he could get his fingers between rock and cliff. He studied a cow-sized rock, making sure he could safely pull it loose, and found a handhold. It took a lot of determined tugging, but eventually he heard a loud scrape and felt it give. One last, hard yank had it tumbling down to the ground. Breathing hard, Dax leaned over, his palms against his thighs.

  He turned his head just enough to look at the cliff face and straightened abruptly. A sliver of black not much wider than his arm was visible where the bottom of the rock had been.

  * * * * *

  “Maggie, may I come in?” James Collins peered around the doorjamb.

  “Of course.” She crumpled the Polar Bear Burgers bag and tossed it into the trash.

  James sat in the chair opposite her. He fidgeted, picking at the sleeve of his dark gray suit cuff. His brown hair was disheveled, as though he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly, and his blue eyes were bloodshot.

  What did I ever see in this man? Compared to Dax, James was as bland as cheap white bread.

  “James? Is everything okay?”

  “No.” He looked up at her, and his expression chilled her. “Everything isn’t okay.” He reached up and loosened the blue and maroon tie he wore. “I’ve just come from an emergency city council meeting. Keily’s in trouble. We’ve had to make some tough decisions.”

  They can’t. “No,” she said, trying to stop the words from leaving his mouth.

  “I’m sorry, Maggie.”

  “You son of a bitch.” This couldn’t be happening.

  “We can keep the jail open, or we can keep the library open.” He spread his hands wide. “I know which one I’d rather have, but we had no choice. I’m sorry.”

  “When?” She would not cry in front of this man.

  “Immediately.”

  Chapter Eight

  Sean agreed to call Luhree, their part-time librarian, leaving Maggie to call Julie.

  Maggie dialed Julie’s number, her earlier anger at the woman buried deep inside the all-consuming numbness that had taken possession of her with James’s visit. This was no time for anger. They needed to support each other through this crisis.

  “Hello?” Julie’s voice was almost a whisper.

  “It’s Maggie.” Tears made perfect shiny circles on the top of her desk.

  “I can’t --”

  Maggie interrupted, “They’ve closed the library.” At this moment, Maggie was angrier at Julie than she’d ever been at anyone. Julie was her best friend, damn it. They should be weathering this storm together, not tiptoeing around each other. With startling, horrible clarity, Maggie realized that their friendship had been dealt a devastating, probably fatal blow.

  “What?”

  “The city council voted. We’re closed until further notice, effective immediately.” She swallowed hard, forcing back the sob that was trying to choke her.

  “I can’t --” Julie drew in a breath. “I can’t talk right now.” She hung up.

  Maggie put the hand holding the receiver on her desk, unable to process what had just occurred. Why was this happening all at once? Had Keily’s bad luck infected everyone who lived here?

  “Hey,” Sean said, reaching past her to put the receiver in its cradle. “What happened? What did Julie say?”

  She looked up at him, vision swimming. “She hung up. She said she couldn’t talk right now, and then she hung up.”

  An odd expression on his face, Sean nodded. “Junior and Suzie just got here. We’re going to take you home. I’ll drive your car; he’ll follow to take me home.” He tugged her arm, coaxing her to her feet. “Car keys?”

  “Car keys?” Maggie repeated, feeling as though her brains were wrapped tightly in white fluffy batting.

  “Where are your car keys?” he said in a kind, measured tone.

  She knew she should find something offensive about his tone, but couldn’t make her mind cooperate. “In my purse.” She opened the bottom desk drawer, pulled it out, rummaged inside for a bit, and then handed him the keys.

  “Let’s go.” Sean took her arm.

  Following him, she banged her hip against the corner of her desk. “Dammit.” The physical pain broke through her shock. “Okay,” she said, closing her eyes and tilting her head back. “Okay.” She gave herself a shake. “I’m back.” Forcing lightness in her voice, she said, “Take me home, big boy.”

  The relief that flooded his face at her words made her determined to make things right. Somehow.

  Junior met them at the front door, giving Maggie a hug. “I’m sorry, Mags. This really sucks.”

  She sniffed, resisting the urge to wipe snot on his uniform. “It sure does.” She gave him a tight squeeze. “Thanks, Junior.”

  Suzie Quinn was taping handwritten notices on the front windows. They read “Library Closed Until Further Notice,” in Suzie’s beautiful penmanship.

  “They look good,” Maggie said, nodding to the signs.

  “I wish they were going up on City Hall instead of here. We need books, not politicians.” Suzie tucked the tape into her pocket and stepped forward, hugging first Maggie and then Sean.

  Looking uncomfortable with all the mushy stuff, Junior said, “Let’s get Maggie and Sean home; we’ve got to get back to work.”

  Sean gave him a long look, then locked the library doors.

  “You know,” Maggie said, winking at Suzie. “I dropped my keys twice this morning.”

  A dull red flush stained Junior’s cheeks, and he looked at the ground, hunching his shoulders.

  Suzie snickered. “Junior had the sweetest smile on his face all morning.”

  “Behave,” Sean said, swatting Suzie and handing Maggie the library keys.

  “No.” Linking her arm with his, Maggie smiled up at Junior. “Officer Davis, your husband and I are going to the grocery store to purchase large quantities of chocolate, ice cream, and diet soda. You may pick him up at my house when you get off work, whereupon you will find us in a caffeine and sugar-induced stupor.” She glanced sideways at Sean. “Any objections?”

  “Can we eat fudge frosting straight from the can?”

  “Is there any other way to
eat it?”

  “I’m in.”

  * * * * *

  By four o’clock, Dax had cleared away enough of the rocks blocking the cave entrance to get his head and one shoulder inside. He couldn’t see anything yet, but the scents of stale air and ancient violence filled him with anticipation.

  He jumped down to the ground and looked up at the boulder blocking most of the entrance. It was the same Jeep-sized one he’d initially touched. The heavy-duty cable and winch Bertha possessed should be able to handle it, but getting the cable placed correctly was going to take time, and perhaps more daylight than he had left.

  Unclipping his cell phone, he flipped it open and brushed his thumb across the buttons. If he cancelled his date with Maggie, he could stay, attach the cable, and if he was lucky, be in the cave before nightfall. The flashlight in the Jeep and his enhanced night vision would let him see well enough to examine whatever he found inside.

  Conversely, he could drive back into town, get cleaned up, and spend the night with a beautiful, sensuous woman. No contest. He clipped the phone back to his belt, mildly surprised that sex trumped discovery. But it’s sex with Maggie. The dead had waited this long, they would wait one more night.

  Still, no sense leaving things unprotected. He pressed his tongue against the venom glands behind his canines, releasing a generous amount of the poisonous fluid. It was pale amber in color, and tasted of cardamom. A sharp nip at the side of his tongue gave him ample blood to mix with the venom. Besides being a deadly poison, the venom -- Fury venom -- served as a perfect medium for his protection magic. The Incubus half of his gene pool gave him the ability to attract or repel any living thing. It only worked on a small area, but that was all he needed. He swirled the blood and venom around in his mouth, concentrating his magic to say “stay away” to anything that might come close, and spat it out in a ragged line across the top of the boulder.

  Licking the final drops from his lips, he closed his eyes to “see” his magic. Perfect. Between that and the traces still left of the original attack, the cave was as safe as he could make it.