Dream Stalker

by Jenna Kernan

  “Niyanoka only marry others of their kind. Their gifts can come from either parent.”

  “Kanka said I am the last Seer.”

  “Then it is so.”

  Chapter 22

  M ichaela tried not to let her disappointment bring her low. She was home at last and Sebastian was here with her.

  “Are you hungry, rabbit?”

  She was. Ravenous, in fact. Her healing stupor had lasted a month, according to Sebastian. She lifted her hands to her cheeks.

  Sebastian confirmed her worry. “You have lost weight.”

  “I should be dead.” She dropped her hands. “A month without eating. It’s ridiculous.”

  “I’ll make you some soup.” He turned toward the dining room.

  “Soup? Are you kidding? I’m famished.”

  “Your stomach is not accustomed to food. Best to begin slowly.”

  He continued toward the kitchen, leaving her to trail behind. When she caught up, he had the light on and was standing at the butcher’s block holding a sheet of paper.

  “Who is Ron?”

  “He’s my mom’s boyfriend.” She shook her head at the mistake. “I mean my aunt’s, or he was.”

  She glanced at the page, which read: “Michaela, call me, please,” followed by the number she knew by heart.

  “Oh, he must be worried sick.” She grabbed the phone off the cradle and paused.

  What would she say—that she had been attacked by a bear, rescued by a Skinwalker and was just returning from visiting a sorceress with Nagi hot on her trail?

  She lowered the handset to its place and glanced at the microwave clock. It read 2:00 a.m.

  She felt a moment’s relief. “Too late to call.”

  Sebastian found a can of chicken soup and the can opener while she rummaged in the drawers retrieving an unopened bag of oyster crackers. In a few minutes the meager meal was ready.

  They sat side by side at the kitchen table. Michaela leaned forward to inhaled the aroma of the soup. Her stomach roused and grumbled long and insistently. Sebastian laughed.

  “Now you sound like a bear.”

  “That’s my clan.” She lifted her spoon. It teetered as she recalled she was also of the Ghost Clan, the last of the Ghost Clan.

  She had nearly drained the contents of her bowl when she noticed he was not eating. She held her spoon between the bowl and her mouth, a noodle dangling precariously from the silverware. He was staring out the black window.

  She craned her neck, fearing Nagi. “What’s wrong?”

  “I was wondering about Bess. It’s been over a month since I saw her. I thought she’d be back by now.”

  She lowered the spoon and stared quizzically at him. “How would she know where we are?” Her eyes rounded as pieces fell into place. “She doesn’t have a cabin tucked up in the woods behind yours, does she?”

  Sebastian shook his head.

  Michaela thought back and gasped. “She’s Inanoka!”

  He nodded.

  She slumped back in her stool. But of course it made sense. She appeared from nowhere. The way she walked, dressed and spoke were all odd.

  “I can’t believe it.” She rubbed her mouth with the napkin then met his gaze. “A raven. She can fly?”

  “Beautifully.”

  Michaela felt sick at her suspicions at the compliment. She fiddled with her spoon, her appetite lost. “Sebastian, are you and she…”

  “No, never. Bess isn’t fond of me, or at least not in that way. But what you are asking is if I have ever been in love.”

  He was so direct, it startled her to speechlessness.

  “I was, and I also once took a bride.”

  She sat back in her chair and listened as he told of the young bride, not long dead, who had captured his heart and then rejected him. Michaela’s heart broke in sympathy for a man who came to believe he was a man no longer.

  Sebastian’s hand was balled in a fist beside his half-finished soup. She reached for him, but he drew back, escaping her attempt at comfort.

  After a few moments he glanced up.

  “I’m not that woman, Sebastian.”

  He nodded, as if suddenly exhausted. Michaela rose and cleared the table, leaving the dishes for the morning.

  “Come on,” she said, and walked to the threshold.

  He rose wearily and followed. “Are you ready to sleep now?”

  She had other plans. “Nearly. But I want a shower first. How does that sound?”

  “I will wait for you here.”

  She lowered her chin in a show of stubbornness and irritation. Two could play at this game.

  “Fine.” She left him there.

  In the bathroom she stripped off her clothing, determining to burn them at the first opportunity. Then she set out two clean, fluffy towels and turned on the taps.

  Michaela stepped from the soft threads of the looped bath rug and into the hot stream of water, pausing to groan with pleasure. The only thing better would be to have Sebastian here to wash her back. She lathered her body and shampooed her hair as she considered her options. A scream would bring him but she didn’t want to be the boy that cried wolf.

  She settled for just calling his name. If there was a hint of urgency and alarm in her tone, well, so be it.

  “Sebastian!”

  There came the sound of running feet. She drew back the curtain. The door crashed open as he charged into the room. His eyes flew around, looking for any threat, and then found it in her eyes.

  “What game is this?” he asked.

  “A very old one.”

  He frowned but did not retreat. Instead, he stepped forward to face her. “Niyanoka do not seduce Skinwalkers. It is not done.”

  “Sue me.”

  “You do not know what you are doing.”

  “So you keep telling me.” She leaned back, arching, and let the hot water run down her body. Soap bubbles slithered over curves. She opened her eyes and saw she had caught herself a bear.

  He stood naked before her, his erection thick and hard.

  She stepped back and offered the water stream. “I’ll wash you.”

  “Remember that I tried to do the right thing,” he said.

  “Certainly.”

  He stepped in before her, his hands greedy for her as she lathered his wonderful, wide chest. Thick coarse hair and taut muscle played beneath her questing fingers.

  The raw need brought her to stillness and the soap slipped from her fingers. She ran her hands down the ribbed muscles of his stomach, causing his erection to twitch.

  Desire built in her, rising, beating. This ache, it changed her anticipation into a furious blinding red desire, gripping her so fiercely that she could not move.

  “Michaela, what is it? What is wrong?”

  She glanced up at him, seeing the taut, straining face and feeling his control slipping as he held her.

  “I can feel it now,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “Your need.”

  His eyes widened in understanding.

  Up until this moment he could read her desires, emotions and thoughts. But now, somehow, the road had become a two-lane highway.

  “She brought your powers,” he whispered. “Can you really know what I am thinking?”

  She closed her eyes and gasped as an image of her riding on top of him, there on the bathroom rug, rose in her mind. Her eyes popped open and she glanced at the four-by-six rug.

  Sebastian dragged her to him, pressing his long, hard body to her pliant one. She rocked her hips from side to side, brushing his erection with her belly. It twitched and she felt his surge of pleasure fire inside herself.

  Hot water pounded across his shoulders, and she felt that, as well. Their bodies slipped together, skin sliding over wet skin, in a luscious, sensual dance. He spun her in his arms so her bottom locked to his hips. The spray now beat across her chest as she lay her head back against his chest. His hands cupped her breasts, kneading, stroking an
d driving her mad.

  He kissed her neck and shoulder, and she felt the texture of her slick skin in his mouth and the aching pressure of his palms rolling her nipples into hard buds. She rubbed her backside against him and was rewarded by his groan and the hot flare of sensation he felt as her flesh glided over the underside of his erection.

  She faced him, dipping momentarily so the water cascaded over her as she reached for his cock, curious to know what she did to him, fascinated and aroused to experience her fingers stroking him.

  The moment she wrapped her hands around him, she found his thoughts trying to control his want. He clenched his teeth and gripped her shoulders, his mind telling her she went too far, telling her that he felt the slick readiness between her legs even as she felt it. Her mind filled with all the things he wanted to do to her and her hand slipped away.

  He stepped out of the tub, carrying her backward to the floor in a slow-motion fall. Her back collided with the cushion of the floor mat and he continued to drive her back, forcing her thighs apart with one insistent push of a muscular leg.

  She reached for him again, but he captured her wrists, pinning them over her head.

  “Enough mischief,” he rasped, and positioned himself above her.

  She lifted her head, hands still pinned, and saw his glorious erection positioned between her legs. Anticipation surged and she splayed her thighs in invitation. In the next instant he drove into her with enough force to send them both back several inches across the mat. The doubling of the contact brought her to near climax and she cried out his name.

  The sight of him, combined with the sensation of his skin gliding into her tight passage, was the most erotic sight of her life. She felt him and she felt his pleasure as he rocked forward to lock them together.

  Her body quickened, her release gathering like the ticking of a time bomb. Her gaze flew to his as she wondered if she could wait the few moments it would take him to reach his pleasure. He had been fighting so hard not to come, and now she was falling over the edge without him.

  His gaze locked to hers, and she knew he understood, needed them to experience their orgasm together. His thrusting lost all caution and restraint as again and again he pushed into her. He was close, but the movement was too much and it pushed her over the precipice.

  “Oh!” she cried. “Not yet.”

  “Yes,” he growled.

  And she felt his seed, still inside his body as it rushed forward with his release. She cried out as his pleasure and hers combined. For a moment she was mindless with the glory of that instant mutual ecstasy. All too soon the waves of satisfaction rippled away.

  He fell like a collapsing tree, rolling to her side onto the cold tile. She gasped at the feel of the porcelain on his skin as he dragged her up onto his body, wrapping his strong arms around her.

  She closed her eyes and wept at the power and perfection of their joining.

  She did not know she had dozed until he sat up, carrying her with him onto his lap. She roused, glancing around. A puddle of water surrounded them on the floor and the shower spewed water into the tub.

  She blinked at Sebastian, who guided them to their feet. He grabbed a plush towel and draped it around her shoulders. The knuckles of his fist pressed against her sternum.

  He smiled at her, but his thoughts were dark.

  What torture to know you possessed exactly what you want and that you will never keep it.

  “Never keep what?”

  He released the towel as if it burned him and backed away, breaking the contact between them.

  He turned his back to her to flip off the water. Then he retrieved a towel and wrapped it low around his hips.

  He did not like this invasion of his mind and began to understand why Michaela had been so upset when he had used it to give her pleasure the first time they had coupled.

  The towel now covering his lower half, he turned to face her, thankful that she had wrapped her towel tight around her body, covering her from the damp tops of her breasts to the top of her thighs. Her lovely, long legs still glistened with water. He lifted his gaze to her eyes.

  “Dry your hair, rabbit, so you don’t catch a chill.”

  She glared at him as he moved past her.

  “Where are you going?”

  He didn’t know. Getting away from her was all he could think to do, away from her glower and stubborn refusal to accept what must be.

  He didn’t care about the Niyanoka and their silly laws. Not for himself, anyway. But he could not allow her to make such an uninformed decision. She did not understand that she would need them and that by choosing him, she would lose that community.

  It was wrong to let her make such a misstep before she fully understood what it would cost her.

  He glanced back at her and then withdrew.

  Chapter 23

  M ichaela fumed and then shivered. Finally, she grabbed a second towel and gave her hair a vigorous rub. A glance in the mirror brought her attention to the sagging, sodden bandage around her arm. Her mind shifted from her troubles with Sebastian to her troubles with Nagi.

  She dropped the towel and peeled away the leather pad, gaping at what she saw. The injury had completely healed. Michaela wiped away the zinc oxide and stared at the scar that more resembled a finely drawn blue-black tattoo of a medicine wheel than the raised puckering red line she anticipated. How odd. She recalled Kanka’s stitches, but somehow they had fused with her skin. Michaela swept her fingers over the marks. They felt smooth and perfect, her sensation had returned and the ghastly gray pigment had disappeared. She was truly healed.

  Except for the tear to her Spirit. She shivered.

  The fluffy white towel did not fully remove the chill that ran deeper than her pimply gooseflesh. How would she heal the tear?

  Michaela headed to her bedroom, changed into her short flannel nightie and strode to the window, drawing back the curtains. Somehow she knew that Sebastian was out there, in the night. She lifted the sashing and leaned over the porch roof.

  “If you are out there, come to bed,” she called.

  She waited but received no reply, so she lowered the window and flipped back the covers. The last time she had been here, she had been anxious to flee her room, running from the threat she did not understand. Now she did and truth was far worse that she had ever imagined. The threat was real. She was hunted by Nagi.

  Sebastian was not here to protect her.

  She drew on her robe and left the room. Nagi would not find her this night. Perhaps Niyanoka could do without sleep as well as food. Anyway, she was determined to try.

  Back in the living room, she glanced toward the porch, catching movement. Her aunt? Sebastian?

  There he was, rocking in her aunt’s favorite chair. She opened the door, leaning against the jamb.

  “Can’t sleep?” he asked.

  “Not without you.”

  “You are still under my protection. You don’t have to take me to your bed.”

  “Stop pouting and come to bed.”

  His jaw dropped. “Bears don’t pout.”

  She grinned and untied her robe, holding it open as she closed the distance between them. When she got within arm’s length, he grasped her waist and dragged her into his lap.

  She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him, feeling his desire flare with hers. Her low moan encouraged him as his fingers delved beneath the hem of her nightie.

  Sebastian didn’t carry her to bed until just before dawn and the sun had turned the walls of her room pink before she closed her eyes, but when she did, she was smiling.

  Michaela woke to an empty bed. This was getting annoying. Every time she let down her guard, he slipped away.

  She dragged on white lace underwear, a matching bra, a soft moss-colored corduroy blouse and tight faded jeans. She paused to drag a comb through the tangle of her hair, and then stooped to find her moccasin slippers under the bed.

  “Time to hunt some bear.”

&
nbsp; A few moments later she entered the kitchen, shivering slightly as she turned on the kettle. A glance out the window found Sebastian talking to a raven, which sat on top of the birdfeeder.

  Bess had arrived.

  Michaela tried to pretend this was normal as she stepped onto the porch.

  “Kettle’s on, Bess. Would you like some breakfast?”

  Bess hopped down to the grass and took one step before rising from the ground like a dancer unfolding. In human form, she wore a crisp linen skirt with black buttons descending the front, like a string of gleaming raven eyes. Her blouse was low-cut and flirty, to show her cleavage. The fabric cinched her ribs, then fell free in wispy triangles of cloth that reminded Michaela of wings.

  “Love some,” she said.

  Sebastian trailed them.

  Bess kissed Michaela on both cheeks. “I’m glad to see you are feeling better.”

  Michaela pressed both hands over her heart. “You can see it?”

  “I can.”

  “I feel well.”

  “That is good.”

  Michaela would have liked a confirmation, but Bess only smiled benevolently. So Michaela motioned to the door and Bess preceded her inside. They made their way to the kitchen, where Michaela started the coffeemaker, poured water from the kettle for Bess’s tea and set out the orange juice. When she glanced at the clock, she realized it was past time for lunch.

  Sebastian found bacon and eggs and nudged her out of the way so he could cook. She grabbed a cup of coffee before settling beside Bess, who dunked a bag of herbal tea into the hot water and set the mug aside.

  “Sebastian filled you in on our adventures?” asked Michaela.

  “I understand you are Niyanoka.”

  “So they tell me.”

  “I’ll try not to hold it against you.” Bess winked at her. “And the last Seer of Souls. You see all ghosts?”

  “Three so far.”

  “And they speak to you?” Bess look fascinated and cautious all at once.

  Michaela nodded.

  “I can talk only to the ones who have crossed and I can see the auras only of the living.”

  Michaela stared in astonishment. “That is how you knew I was feeling better?”