Jewel of the Sun's Blood Destiny

by Bekki Lynn

  Cassandra’s voice cracked when she called out, “Grandpa!” Moving to the doorway, she looked back at the gems and called again, “Grandpa, would you please come in here for a minute?” she sputtered. When he didn’t answer, she realized he’d already left. The one time he didn’t linger around the shop after he put the closed sign up. Go figure. Baffled, she returned to the desk and eased down on the chair, her eyes riveted on the largest piece.

  Nervous, she wiped her hands on her jeans. Somewhere, they had a jeweler’s eye and a magnifying glass. She searched the desk and found them in the bottom drawer. In a can of miscellaneous items on the desk, she found a pair of utility tweezers to handle the smaller gems.

  Her heart beat as fast as a hummingbird when she picked up a small piece and looked at it. “So beautiful,” she whispered. Each one she looked at held such brilliance. They made the earrings she wore look like glass.

  She lined them up as she counted them. Twenty little gems and goodness-knows how many the large piece would produce. She reached for her soda and set back in her chair. Part of her said to lock them in the safe and talk to her grandfather in the morning, but damn they were beautiful. She sipped from the bottle while she gazed at them.

  Almost before she was conscious of it, she saw how they should be. She pulled a pad of paper from the desk drawer and began to draw what came to her.

  When she finished the necklace and earrings, she studied them before adding a bracelet to complete what she’d envisioned. Her drawings weren’t the greatest, but it was enough to fill her with a sad excitement. They weren’t hers to fantasize over, but how did she find out who they belonged to?

  Chapter 2

  Cassandra set the pad aside, picked up the magnifying glass, and looked over the envelope. The hard-to-read postmark hinted they may have come from Arizona, she thought. She tried to make out the numbers of the zip code, but the faint, partial numbers weren’t clear enough to determine for sure.

  Ok, she did know the Indian Reservation near Phoenix mined peridot, but she knew no one…Oh, wait! Her grandfather’s best friend lived there and he had visited him a few months ago. Wouldn’t he have sent them to him though, not her? She studied the return address to see if she could make out anything resembling Pritim Takoda, but she couldn’t. Maybe her grandfather would recognize his friend’s writing.

  With her chin in the palm of her hand, she moved the gems around with a fingernail. She should put them away, update the inventory logs, and get out of there, but the green-yellow twinkled, mesmerizing her. They’d be so perfect for evening wear, a party, an event of some kind. She sighed. There wasn’t anything in her foreseeable future. Picking up the chunk, she turned it around, studying the beautiful texture of the uncut gem. A section seemed more translucent than the rest. Curious, she picked up the jeweler’s eye to see what may be inside it, if anything. Her eye bore into the soul of it.

  Turning around in a circle, she found herself surrounded by the luxurious gem color. This wasn’t possible. She looked up and saw reflecting lights bouncing off the lens. How? Where was she? Ok, she knew where she was, but this wasn’t possible unless she’d fallen asleep and was dreaming.

  Sounds, moans seemed to come from somewhere in front of her. Is it possible for someone else trapped in there with her? “Hello? Who’s there?” No answer. “Can you hear me?”

  She stepped forward with caution and found she was moving down a path, a tunnel. The sounds came again. Someone was there. Hurt, maybe. “Are you hurt! Can you tell me where you are!” she called out.

  Cassandra continued along the luminous path, listening, but the person didn’t answer. Shivers went through her like waves when the sounds came again, but closer. She kept a lookout for other tunnels to explain why the person might be eluding her.

  Whispers mixed with heavy breathing and moans filtered up toward her. She must be close. Worried the person needed help she couldn’t give, distress crawled into her gut. How would she get them out of there when she didn’t know how she got in? Moving quicker, she saw the darkness of an opening—a way out. She ran and bounced off whatever she couldn’t see, finding herself landing on her bottom. “What the hell!” She stood, rubbing her backside.

  Cassandra approached the doorway and reached out with her hand. The barrier didn’t feel like glass, it didn’t feel like Plexiglas either. The sounds from the other side drew her attention. There was a couple in bed—making love. Her breath caught in her throat. How could someone’s bedroom be here? Confused, she glanced around. Photography equipment set around the room. They were in a studio. Damn, a photographer who enjoyed the fringe benefits.

  She banged on the barrier with her palms. The funky material wavered with flexibility. She pushed, but there was no real give. “Help! Let me out!” she yelled. The couple didn’t act like they heard her. Damn it! They had to if she was hearing them. Why were they ignoring her? Fear crept up her spine. Pushing back the sting of tears, she tried to think. Ok, this is so sci-fi movie stuff, so there must be a hidden mechanism like in the movies.

  Cassandra turned around, running her hands over the walls. Where was the release lever? There had to be one. When she’d searched both sides of the walls and found none, she banged on the clear panel again. “Let me out!” she demanded, praying they’d hear her over their gasps and moans—still nothing. She rested her forehead against the wall. I can hear them. Why can’t they hear me?

  “Oh, yeah. Feels so good.”

  The voice was too familiar. She looked back at the couple, watching them so into one another. A sudden jolt between her legs weakened her knees and she couldn’t pull her eyes away. Cassandra’s body tightened with the growing need as if the man feasted on her own body. Her nipples hardened. She didn’t need to look down to confirm the buds pushed through her bra as his hand palmed and rubbed the woman’s swollen flesh before entering her again with his fingers. She planted her hands against the barrier as the woman’s hips rose and fell. She felt her own thrust forward in hunger.

  Hypnotized by the view, she could do no more than stand there when the woman stiffened in mid-air. The woman’s head moved side-to-side, moans spilling from her as she neared her orgasm. When it hit, she stilled, facing her. Cassandra gasped.

  Her? How could she be there when she was here? She started to shake, but couldn’t move, couldn’t avert her eyes. Her own breathing quickened as she watched herself spiral through the orgasm. Her own thighs flexed, and wetness soaked the cotton scrap covering her aroused flesh.

  The stranger moved and nibbled on her inner thigh, causing her to arch as a gurgling moan escaped her lips.

  Who was this man with the long black hair, and how does he command such surrender? Did she really care? What he was doing to her, she could see on her face, her vision of herself—pure ecstasy.

  Turning her gaze back to the man, she watched him tease flesh with his tongue, gliding downward, skimming the sensitive skin inside her knee…to her foot.

  Cassandra groaned as the tip of his tongue moved along the side of her foot, the length of her toe…her breath fogged the barrier in front of her. Her feet were primal arousal zones.

  He rose on his knees, demanding her attention. His lean, muscular torso had her hands wishing to move over every inch. Even the mark on his lower back…her breath hitched. The mark was kind of familiar. Where had she seen it before? But then, she caught sight of the length of his shaft, standing at full attention. She closed her eyes as her core screamed for the feel of him inside her wet warmth.

  When she had to continue watching, he’d begun to massage the sole of her foot, his fingers pressing into the arch and working up to her toes. He lingered over the base of her big toe, caressing.

  “Oh, stop…can’t breathe,” the vision of her moaned. “God, please…going to…come.”

  Her thighs tightened as her toes curled in her shoes while she watched the mere act of his fingers brought shuddering groans from the woman–herself.

  The breaths of
her other self were raspy as her hips thrust upward as need speared through her. He watched her or seemed to. Was his eyes heavy with the same raw need on her face? She willed him to turn and show his face.

  “Please, my Apache Love. Take me,” she heard.

  Without answering, he moved to her other foot, sucking on her big toe. “Oh, oh…aw,” she moaned as her body stiffened and ruptured with such intensity. She seemed not to breathe for a long moment, but then with a soft voice, begged, “Please.”

  With slow, targeted ease, he moved up her legs, between them and lowered his face between her thighs.

  Cassandra knew she should ignore the visionary and find a way out, but she couldn’t look away. She couldn’t fight the torturous need for fulfillment the woman on the bed craved.

  Herself arched, gasping, her hands flailing for something to grasp and found his head. Tangling her fingers in the glossy, dark strands, she pulled him closer as moans filled the air.

  Cassandra fell to her knees overwhelmed when she literally felt him lap her juices and nibble on her aroused lips. His tongue probed as deep into her as he could go for more of her nectar. Perspiration rolled down between her breasts as she panted. She couldn’t take what he did to her any longer. She slipped her hand up under the skirt of her dress and rubbed herself through the narrow strip covering her blond tuft. Her nub was hard, sensitive, and throbbed. Moving the fabric aside, she rotated over it as she planted a hand against the barrier, her eyes glued to the erotic scene.

  The man pushed her knees up, burrowing into her.

  She whimpered and shoved fingers between her swollen lips, pumping in and out. Oh, god! She wanted to see her take his long length…she wanted him to replace her fingers. Her mouth watered at the thought.

  Her body quaked and she felt the spiraling orgasm swim through her as her fingers became wetter.

  He rose, watching the woman beneath him shudder through another orgasm while caressing her thighs. When her body calmed, she saw him disappear into her hot, wet cave.

  A swirling haze swam before Cassandra’s eyes and she closed them to clear her vision. When she opened them, the willowy forms hovered over their bodies as they slapped against one another. She wrapped her legs around him and their uninhibited moans and gasps filled the air.

  Cassandra fell against the wall, rubbing furiously as she thrust in time with their motions. Her moans echoed through the tunnel, feeding the need to come. It hovered beneath the surface and hurt. Tears ran down her face as she struggled, panting, watching them, hearing them as they neared the same peak.

  With her eyelids lowered, she saw his head turn as he swung his hair from his face. His eyes met hers. She froze when those dark, aroused eyes seemed to bore into hers. Then he dipped and nipped the lips below him as he continued to ram into her like he never saw her watching them. What did he see when he looked her way, the wall?

  She heard a faint sound, but her body’s need to climax reabsorbed her attention as she watched him rear up, taking her with him. The sound came again. A knocking. No, I’m so close. Wait! She squeezed her eyes shut, increasing the motion of her hands to hurry the orgasm along. The knocking came louder. No! So close. I’m so close. There it was again. Please, just let me come.

  * * * *

  “Miss Jones. Cassandra,” he repeated when she hadn’t acknowledged him.

  The gem, his gem fell from her hand as her head jerked around. Her flushed face accentuated the caught in the act surprise of her eyes while her breast heaved.

  As soon as her eyes registered his presence, she jumped, nearly knocking her chair over. For a moment, she stood with her lips parted, her breathing raspy to his ears. She looked down at herself for whatever reason. When she looked back up at him, a rosy blush had begun to creep up her neck.

  “Who are you? How’d you get in?” she managed to spit out.

  “You were to expect me.”

  The woman whom he’d recognized as the lady he’d changed the tire for, paled. “I’m Elan Takoda. You’re grandfather called and said my package had arrived.” Her eyes darted to the gems, then back at him. “I’m here to collect the gems.” He gestured toward the desk. “It’s a federal offense to open someone else’s mail.”

  “I didn’t,” she managed. She frowned and reached across the desk for the envelope they’d come in, her hand trembling when she held it out. “I honestly didn’t know who sent them or why to me. I was hoping my grandfather would enlighten me in the morning.”

  He took the violated mail, recognizing his grandfather’s handwriting. “I can’t explain why my grandfather would send it here, much less to you. He’s an old man.”

  “Takoda’s your family name. Your grandfather lives near Yuma where the gem is mined.”

  “No. He’s on the San Carlos Indian Reservation where mining is done in the Mesa Peridot.” She nodded and seemed to relax her shoulders. He realized she was testing him, making sure he was who he claimed. Admirable to some, but not to him. He wasn’t someone who claimed what wasn’t his.

  “Why wouldn’t he send them to you at your place? Seems odd not to.”

  She began to place the small pieces in the velvet pouch, but then stopped to look at him—waiting for a response, he guessed. “As I said, he’s an old man. His friend was on his mind.” Impatient to be on his way, he walked over to help her, but her voice stopped him.

  “How’d you get in?” she asked, continuing to put the gems in the pouch.

  “I was instructed to come in. One of you would be here.”

  “Grandpa didn’t mention it.” She looked at him with worry lines across her forehead. “Excuse me a moment. I want to go lock the front.”

  When she started to walk around him, he reached out and stopped her with his hand on her arm. “I locked it after entering.” He gestured toward the desk.

  She turned back and pulled her loose hair behind her ear revealing a peridot post. Odd to see someone wear the gem in February, but he wasn’t interested in her reasons. He wanted her to finish so he could go.

  “What are you going to do with the gems?”

  The woman was full of questions. “I have an appointment with a designer.”

  She handed him the pouch. “Have whoever you use look at the large piece. It seems to have a hollowed out section.” He turned to leave. “E… Mr. Takoda.”

  He turned around and looked at her. Her throat moved as if she’d swallowed something too large. He’d had his fill of emotional women for one day. “Tell your grandfather thank you.” He turned and heard her follow him.

  After unlocking the door, he looked at her for a brief moment. “Good night.” She took the open door from him, so he was certain she’d lock up.

  Elan crossed the sidewalk to his PT Cruiser and climbed in. Turning the key, he saw her pull a shade part way down the door as two guys stumbled past the shop, giving one another a shove as they shared a bottle of liquor. Uncomfortable with the woman in there alone in this part of town, he waited to make sure they didn’t double back and try to break in the shop.

  Once they were a couple blocks away, he felt sure she was safe enough and pulled away from the curb heading north, down Adams Street toward his home in Peoria Heights.

  Elan entered his kitchen via a mudroom off the garage. A spicy aroma met him and he knew his housekeeper had left dinner warming in the oven. She tended to do so unless he told her he had a late shoot. He opened the oven and took out a covered pan. Lifting the lid, steam poured out. Vegetarian Spanish rice—looked good, but he wasn’t hungry. He set the dish in the refrigerator with the intention of taking it to work tomorrow. Right now, all he wanted to do was shower and go to bed.

  He went to put the gems away in the den, but when he reached under the desk for his lock box, the attached magnifier had him wondering about the hollowed out part. He didn’t believe his grandfather would send him damaged goods, but he’d take a look.

  Opening the pouch, he reached inside and pulled the chunk out. He turned it
over between his fingers, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Even under the lighted magnifier, he didn’t see anything uncommon. Reaching across the desk for his eye loupe, he took a closer look. Yeah, there appeared to be a less dense area, but the outcome wouldn’t be affected. He put the pouch in the lock box and headed up to shower.

  Elan emerged from the steaming bathroom, rubbing his hair with a towel. His faithful companion stood growling and hissing, her back arched with her long gray fur standing up from the center of her spine and down her tail. “What is it, Sas?” he asked, following her vision. The towel fell to the floor when he saw as clear as he was standing in his own room, a couple in the throes of heated passion—in his bed.

  Chapter 3

  “Hey!” he called out. They didn’t react. His heart thudded, but not from fear. He walked toward them. They were almost transparent—spirits. The man reared up, watching the woman. Me! He looked at the woman. No! He would not do this. He’d never take the granddaughter of his grandfather’s friend. Not to use and toss, not to use and keep.

  He started to back away, but their sounds of pleasure enveloped him—paralyzing him to the floor. Elan watched her caress the side of his spirit-face and a featherlike touch moved against his face. Her voice came out breathless and thick when she told him, “Come with me, my Apache Love.” His body shuddered forcing his eyes closed. Their moans, Cassandra’s sighs and verbal sounds of how he made her feel seared his soul. No! No!

  Silence filled the room, but for his own quick breaths. He dared to open his eyes. They were gone. He glanced down at himself and saw he’d spilled his seed. His eyes roamed the room, and then stayed on the bed as he realized, too, Sassy had quieted.

  The unease leaving him, he picked up the towel and wiped himself off as he went back into the bathroom. This wasn’t the first time he felt a presence in the house, and had expected, at some point, to see manifestations. He never thought it’d be of himself, and certainly not a woman he met tonight for the first time. After tossing the towel in the hamper, he ran a comb through his hair then pulled it back into a ponytail.