Maybe it was nothing at all, she decided. Part of a dream that had brought her up out of sleep. That would certainly be no surprise, she told herself wearily. After the day’s bizarre events, sleep hadn’t come easily at all, and when it did—
Jessie’s heart leaped up in her throat. She pressed her hands against the sill and peered out into the night. There was something ... something ...
Suddenly the low clouds scudded aside and the moon flooded the earth with cold white light. The thing was a good twenty yards from Jessie’s window, just past the last cabin in the village. At first it was no more than the night itself, another part of the dark. Then, as the clouds rushed by, it seemed to draw strength and body from the moon, changing before her eyes from shadow to wispy gray. It stood there a long moment, silent and unmoving. Then, sweeping its head around, it turned and walked away into the fields.
Jessie reached blindly for a straight-back chair and eased herself down. She tried to keep from shaking, but couldn’t. It was easy to tell herself the thing she’d seen wasn’t there—that it was a trick of the light and her own imagination. She knew, though, that wasn’t so.
Chapter 7
Jessie hadn’t been asleep again for more than an hour when the settlement began to stir. Like any farming community, the day’s work began before sunrise. A milk cow bawled, and chickens began clucking about outside the window. Cookpans rattled on the stove, and one enterprising farmer started nailing a broken fence when there was scarcely light to see it.
Jessie moaned and gave up, stumbled out of bed, and searched out her clothes in the half dark. The family who’d put her up invited her to breakfast in broken English, and Jessie accepted.
She found Ki waiting across the common, and strolled down to meet him. Like Jessie, he was wearing the same clothes he’d put on the day before, since neither had anticipated spending the night outside of Roster. His well-worn denims were faded nearly white, and the loose-fitting cotton twill shirt had been washed so often it had no color at all. A battered Stetson and an old leather jacket completed his outfit. She saw he had thrust a pair of the wicked, two-pronged sai under his belt, weapons he could use in a dozen different ways.
“I will not ask if you rested well,” said Ki. “I’m sure you slept no better than I did.”
“Good,” Jessie said dully. “I’m glad you’re not asking. Because I certainly don’t care to talk about it. Three hours in two nights just isn’t very satisfying.” She looked past Ki to the sod-roofed cottage at the end of the common. “Have you seen anyone yet? I was wondering how the old man is doing.”
“I saw him,” said Ki. “Physically, he is doing well. The wounds are not infected. It is his mind that has been poisoned, Jessie. He’s convinced the creature’s blood now flows in his veins. That he will become a man-wolf when the moon is full. I cannot—” Ki stopped and gave her a puzzled frown. “Jessie, what’s wrong?”
“Uh, nothing, I guess.” Jessie shrugged, but Ki’s eyes wouldn’t leave her. She shot him a weak little grin. “Can’t keep any secrets from you, can I? Ki, something happened last night. I’m not at all sure what. I saw something. Out there, in the middle of the night.” She told him, then, about waking and watching the spectral shape appear in the moonlight, then move off into the darkness. She told it exactly as she’d seen it, leaving nothing out.
Ki put a hand to his face and studied her thoughtfully. “No wonder you didn’t get any sleep.”
“It’s crazy, isn’t it? Ki, I could have seen something and let my imagaination take it from there, I guess, but—”
“But you didn‘t, did you?”
“No. I didn’t. It was there. I did see something.” She bit her lip nervously. “What do you figure it was? I mean, besides a werewolf? I don’t care what it looked like, I am not ready for that.”
“I’m not either. And that tells us something, doesn’t it? You either saw a real werewolf, or something that looked like one. If we cannot accept the first, that leaves us with an interesting question. What looks like a man-wolf and isn’t?”
“Someone who wants to look like one?”
Ki nodded. “A most intriguing possibility.”
Jessie took a few steps, toeing her boots into the ground. “I don’t know,” she said hesitantly. “Whatever that thing was doing out there, it wasn’t for my benefit. It didn’t know I was going to be watching.”
“No,” Ki agreed, “it had some other purpose for prowling around the village.”
Jessie let her eyes sweep the horizon, past the dark fields of wheat to the somber line of trees by the creek. The sky was pale blue in the east, but the sod-roofed cottages and the people moving about were still gray and indistinct. “All right.” Jessie let out a breath. “Wolves and other spooks aren’t all we’ve got to worry about, Ki. I’m determined to find out who’s after these folks’ land, and I think the answer’s out here. We won’t learn much back in Roster.”
Ki thought a minute. “While you’re pursuing that, maybe I can learn something about things that prowl around in the night.”
“Oh?” Jessie gave him a skeptical frown. “How do you figure on doing this?”
“By using mysterious Oriental methods,” Ki grinned. “Lying a little, looking in the wrong direction, and appearing to do something else entirely.”
Jessie made a noise in her throat. “Nothing real Oriental about that, friend. Sounds to me like a couple of St. Louis bankers making a deal.”
The funeral of Michael Antonescu took place on a barren hilltop just east of the settlement. It was nearly ten in the morning, and Ki was already gone. Jessie stood apart, watching two of the young man’s broad-shouldered relatives carry the greenwood coffin slowly past the common and up the hill. Gustolf led the widow carrying her son, and the rest of the villagers followed. Jessie fell in behind, keeping the respectful distance of an outsider. The ceremony was short. In less than half an hour, the settlers were back at work under the broiling summer sun. Except for the fresh dirt of a new grave, it was hard to tell that anything unusual had happened.
Jessie knew she ought to be asking questions, but decided this particular morning wasn’t the right time for it. She had no desire to talk to Gustolf, and a quick look from Sonia at the funeral did nothing to change her mind. Instead, she found her Colt in her saddlebag and stuck it out of sight under her jacket, then wandered out of the settlement to the dark line of trees that masked the creek.
The creek seemed a world away from the hot plains of Kansas. The waterway had clearly been there a long time, for the years had cut through hard stone banks a good ten feet down to the creek itself. Jessie was surprised to find nearly three feet of water coursing by in places. In this part of the country in midsummer, it could easily have been bone dry.
She wandered through the trees for nearly a mile, enjoying the walk and keeping one eye open for sign. At first she felt uneasy, going so far from the settlement. The young man had been killed near the creek, and so had the girl. Ki wouldn’t approve, Jessie knew—but it was broad daylight, and even in the thicket of trees she could see a good distance around her. And if any wolves had passed this way, they’d left no tracks behind.
At noon she found a bend in the creek where the water had carved a clear, deep pool in comparatively soft rock. The bottom was covered in white gravel, and looked seven or eight feet deep. Jessie couldn’t resist. It had been more than twenty-four hours since she’d stepped off the Kansas Pacific, in the same denims and shirt she was wearing now. It didn’t seem likely any settlers would venture this far, even in daylight—not with the events of the night before fresh in their minds.
Making her way down the steep bank, she laid her jacket aside, perched on a flat rock, and eased off her boots and socks. Lowering her feet into the cool water was almost more than she could stand. Jessie closed her eyes and gave a long sigh of pleasure. The feeling was almost sensuous. She knew exactly how it would feel when she slipped her whole body into the creek, and could hardly wa
it to get out of her clothes. Standing up to her ankles in the shallow end of the pool, she drew down the brown Stetson and ran long fingers through her strawberry-blonde mane, tossing it free and easy over her shoulders. She pulled the blouse out of her denims, quickly loosed the buttons, and slipped the silk garment off her shoulders. She laid the Colt within reach near the edge of the pool, laying the edge of her blouse over the barrel. The garter rig she usually wore around her thigh was loose in the pocket of her jacket, and she let that stay where it was. If anything large and furry disturbed her bath, she certainly didn’t intend to face it with a derringer. Taking a last quick look at the creek bank above, she hopped about on one foot and peeled herself out of the tight denims.
Lord the water looked good! Jessie figured on giving her clothes a good soaking, then wearing them back in the sun to let them dry. That, however, was a chore—and a little lazy pleasure came first.
She stopped at the shallow bank and stretched luxu riantly, raising her arms high over her head and lifting herself on the balls of her feet. The motion flattened the slight swell of her belly and tauntened the gentle curves of her breasts. Jessie closed her eyes and let her naked body drink in the warm rays that dappled the pool through the trees. The pleasure of the water awaited her, and anticipating that pleasure, putting it off another moment—
A dead branch snapped like a shot on the bank overhead. Jessie’s lean figure moved in a blur of white. In one fluid motion she turned on her heels, bent her legs in a crouch, twisted at the waist, and scooped up the revolver. Before the second heavy foot cut through the silence, the .38’s muzzle was sweeping the bank in a steady arc.
A face suddenly appeared over Jessie’s gunsights. Feodor stared down at her a brief moment before it dawned on him what he was seeing.
“J-Jessica!” Feodor looked appalled, turned red, and gazed quickly up at the trees. “Please. You mustn’t think I was, uh—”
“Sneaking up on me for a peek?” Jessie gave him a grin and lowered the pistol.
“Yes. No! I saw you leave the village. I followed you, but I never—”
“I know that,” said Jessie. “Feodor, no one sneaking up on a girl would make that much noise—or look as surprised as you did. Quit searching up there for birds and come on down.”
“Is it all right if I turn around? Are you—”
“Decent?” Jessie laughed, and put her hands on her hips. “Feodor,” she said gently, “I haven’t slipped into a corset and a long gown, if that’s what you mean. I guess I look decent, though. As much as I did the last time you looked.”
Feodor returned her laugh, then faced her and met her gaze squarely. “If I don’t break my neck getting down, I’ll be right there.”
“Take your time,” said Jessie. “I’m not going anywhere.” She watched him scramble down the steep bank, sending a shower of loose stones rattling into the water. Before he reached the creekbed, she waded into the water up to her knees, then pushed off and swam to the middle of the pool.
Feodor walked up to the shallows and slapped rock dust off his knees. “How’s the water?”
“Perfect,” Jessie called back. “What’s keeping you?”
Feodor nodded. Without a word, he sat down and pulled off his heavy work boots, then stood and jerked the worn pullover shirt over his shoulders and snaked out of his trousers. He smiled at Jessie, then walked into the water and moved toward her with long, even strokes. He’d taken his time undressing and coming to her, which seemed only fair to Jessie. He’d gotten a look at her, then given her time to do some admiring of her own. She liked what she saw—he was lean and hard-bodied, dark-skinned even where the sun hadn’t touched him. A light matting of hair trailed in an inverted vee down his chest and past his belly. Jessie’s gaze rested a long moment between his legs. Feodor saw her, and she gave him back a bold, unashamed grin.
He paddled up to her and treaded water. “If I’m not mistaken, that was what you Americans call a leer, was it not?”
Jessie laughed and splashed him with water. “That’s what it was, friend. I’ll bet you have a word just like it in Rumanian, too.”
“We have been known to leer now and then,” he said solemnly. “This is true.”
Jessie swam toward the edge of the pool until her feet touched bottom. Feodor joined her, reached out, and circled her waist with his hands.
Jessie put her hands on his shoulders and looked up at him. “I could lie to you, you know, and say I was shocked to find you up on that bank, and me standing down here stark naked.”
“You weren‘t, though, were you?”
“No. To be honest, it felt very good, Feodor. Very good, very comfortable, and ... exciting, at the same time. Being naked with you seems like the right thing to do. If it didn‘t, I certainly wouldn’t be here.” She laughed and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Anyway, it’s the second time you’ve seen me, you know. I couldn’t feel any more naked now than I did last night. When you looked at me across the table.” Jessie shuddered and bit her lip. “Mister, you were doing all kinds of things to me with your eyes.”
Feodor looked up at the trees. “Jessica Starbuck, you cannot even imagine the things I was doing.”
“Well. We’ll see about that, I guess, won’t we? I—oh, my!” Jessie felt his hands slide up from the curve of her waist to cup her breasts in his palms. His fingers caressed her gently, squeezing her just enough to bring the rosy tips out of the water. The sudden touch of the air brought out goosebumps, and tightened her nipples into hard nubbins of pink.
Jessie felt her pulse quicken under his touch. His hands slid over her water-slick skin, leaving bright droplets that sparkled in the sun. His dark eyes never left her; his fingers moved lazily past the swell of her breasts, under her arms, and down the slender bow of her back to the curve of her hips. He stopped there, and rested his hands under her buttocks and brought her to him. Jessie felt the whole delicious length of him against her. She marveled at the softness of her breasts against the hard curve of his chest, the fierce, exciting press of his erection on her belly. She looked up at him and gave a joyous little laugh, reached out and teased a strand of hair off his brow.
“You know what I feel like?” she said.
“I know exactly what you feel like,” he told her.
“No, that is not what I mean.” She pressed a finger against his lips. “Don’t laugh now. I feel like... like an otter.”
Feodor laughed and held her tight.
“See? You did laugh,” she scolded. “I always wondered why they looked as if they were enjoying themselves. Now I know why.”
“Somehow, I don’t think otters have this much fun.”
“Sure they do. They just don’t tell anyone. Mmmm, yes!” She curled her arms about his neck, then arched her back lazily away from him until her coppery hair nearly touched the water. The motion pressed her belly hard against him. Feodor’s hands grasped the slender circle of her waist, pulled her gently to him, then released her and pulled her to him again. Jessie thrust herself against him, relaxed in his arms, and let his body and the buoyancy of the water take her where she wanted to go. The head of his member lightly stroked her belly, while the hard base of the shaft pressed the sensitive crown of her pleasure. Cool water flowed around her, lubricating the exquisitely gentle touch of his body. The growing warmth in her thighs coursed the length of her legs, raced up to her breasts, and finally radiated to every point in her body.
Feodor released her waist and let his hands find the swell of her bottom. As if some silent signal had passed between them, Jessie let her legs swing free in the water. His hands in the small of her back kept her afloat as her thighs parted eagerly to take him in.
Jessie gave a soft purr of joy as he entered her. She reached up and wrapped her arms about his neck, resting her cheek against his chest. Her legs scissored his waist, and Feodor’s hands clasped the firm mounds of her hips to draw her closer still. For a long moment she lay there against him, clinging to him, relish
ing the warmth of his presence inside her. Then she began to grind herself slowly against him, moving her softness in slow, lazy circles. Feodor stood still in the water, holding her body against him, letting her bring them both to pleasure. She threw back her head and looked at him, watched the tightness at the corners of his mouth, the dark intensity of his eyes. For a quick moment she slammed herself hard against him, as if she meant to end it there. Feodor sucked in breath and closed his eyes. Jessie laughed, slowed her pace abruptly, and let him slide nearly all the way out of her body. Feodor opened his eyes and grinned. She gave him a teasing wink, drew him slowly within her again, then out and in once more.
The agony and pleasure of her loving was ready to push him into a final explosion. Jessie could see it in his eyes. The sensitive edge of her own sweet release was a warm and exquisite glow between her thighs. The pain and anticipation she saw in his face heightened her joy, swept her along until she no longer cared to contain it. A small cry stuck in her throat and she thrust herself against him, opening her lips hungrily to let his tongue lovingly fill her mouth, as that other member swelled to fill her below ...
Chapter 8
Jessie lay on her side, her head cradled in the hollow of his arm. Bright shafts of afternoon sun pierced the trees to dapple the sandy bank. She opened one eye and peered lazily down the length of his chest. Gold coins of light patterned his flesh and danced across the creamier tones of her leg. Jessie purred and snuggled closer, pressing her breasts against him and sliding her thigh across his belly. Feodor raised himself up on his arms, tumbled her easily onto her back, and found her mouth with his own.
“Well!” Jessie sucked in a breath and let it sigh through her lips. “That was certainly a fine kiss, mister.”
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