Spirits Shared

by Jory Strong

  He screamed and flew backward. And the lightning continued to strike, bolt after bolt after bolt.

  She glanced upward and her imagination conjured two Thunderbirds hovering in the sky, protective spirits who'd come with the storm and saved her life. Her heart soared, wanting to merge with them, almost feeling as if she could.

  Tears blurred her vision. She blinked and there were only dark, turbulent clouds, the sense of a powerful storm overhead and the contradictory feeling that a part of it was moving away.

  She got slowly to her feet, careful not to put weight on her right foot. She was shaking. From fear, from relief, from the frigid rain striking her bare chest and from her soaked clothing. With trembling fingers she buttoned the shirt and zipped the jacket.

  Her attacker was dead. He had to be dead.

  Needing the truck keys, she hobbled forward, stifling a cry with each jarring, painful step, stopping yards away from the dead man.

  His chest was cratered, as if in fact he had been struck by dozens of bullets. His eyes were open, staring sightlessly into the sky as rain pounded his face.

  Jessica glanced upward and found only dark, turbulent clouds. Was it really her imagination that had conjured the Thunderbirds? She couldn't help but think of the totem poles, the phantom drumbeats, the lighting's unnatural, targeted strikes.

  The logical part of her argued that the Thunderbirds had been a powerful hallucination brought on when absolute terror gave way to overwhelming relief. But the part of her that accepted Tekoa's ability to heal Clay through a sing, the part of her that had felt the Thunderbird's presence both when Tekoa had made love to her on the rug in front of the fireplace and when she'd been looking at the mist-shrouded totem poles, that part of her believed that somehow, someway, when she'd accepted Tekoa as her lover she'd become connected to the Thunderbird's spirit.

  Warmth slid through her, reminding her of the drink Clay had given her on Tekoa's porch when she was shivering and cold and frightened by the future. Tears choked her, happy grateful tears that she had a future to look forward to. The truth about the Thunderbirds could wait, what she needed now was to get home.

  Home. She knew where that was now, with Tekoa and Clay. And to get there, she needed to return to the truck, but before that, she needed the keys and couldn't assume they'd been left in the ignition.

  She took a step toward the dead convict. A sob of pain accompanied the burn in her eyes.

  She could do this. She would go through his pockets.

  She wanted to go home. She wanted to take a shower and then climb into bed with Clay and Tekoa. She wanted their hot bodies pressed to hers. She wanted to hear them whisper words of love and tell her everything was okay. She wanted it with an intensity that consumed her.

  She forced herself to take another step. This time nausea swelled along with the pain. She looked around for a stick and found one that would work as a crutch.

  Thunder rumbled above her like a growled warning. A gust of wind held her in place.

  She tried to press forward. This time the thunder was an angry splash of sound accompanied by more forceful winds.

  Jessica glanced upward and her heart jumped toward the sky. There was no mistaking the Thunderbird this time. It hovered in plain sight for timeless seconds, its gaze fixed on her in a silent command to stay put.

  She sunk to her knees as the feathers of red, yellow, blue and white became roiling black clouds like the ones that had whipped past her when she'd desperately sought help for Clay.

  Clay fought to stay in the form that was so surreal it might have blown his mind if Jess's well-being wasn't at stake.

  Fuck! Even in his wild teen years when he'd blacked-out, passed-out, and done his share of puking his guts out, he'd never come close to something like this. Then again, back in those days his recreational drug of choice had been alcohol instead of acid or some other stupid-ass thing.

  This whole experience would have rivaled a Sixties trip down psychedelic lane—except how could he argue with the sight below him and the aching, wrenching pain in his heart?

  He'd died inside when he'd seen Jessica on her knees with her shirt and jacket hanging open.

  Her terror and horror had been like a kick in the gut with a steel-toed boot.

  From his trailing position, he hadn't seen the flashes come from Tekoa's eyes, but he knew enough about Native American myths to know that's where the lightning had come from. Fuck! Myth? He'd have to rethink that one, or better, let Jess do it. That kind of thing fired her creative synapses.

  It was all so un-fucking-believable. The thunder, the wind-blown clouds, the lightning.

  Amusement rippled through Clay despite his frustration at not being able to do anything other than stand guard over Jess until help that was closer than Tekoa's cabin arrived. He could almost hear Tekoa saying, "Now don't try this at home, you two, especially when I'm not around to guide you."

  Clouds filtered in between Clay and Jess. An updraft pushed him higher.

  Cold seeped in and it was harder to think. At the edge of his consciousness his human form lay stretched out on the police cruiser's backseat.

  His heart dropped through the clouds, driven from his body by the fear that this was all some elaborate fantasy from a head wound.

  Then he noticed that his human self was dressed in the borrowed sweatpants and his Seahawks sweatshirt, not the jeans and flannel he'd been wearing when he and Jessica left the diner.

  Grayness crowded the edge of his vision. He felt a tug deep inside, almost like he was a fish on a line. As soon as he thought it he remembered the golden strands he'd followed to Jessica and guessed this pull was Tekoa about to reel him in.

  Clay fought the call. He used the sweep of wings to clear away some of the clouds so he could see Jess.

  Two men emerged from the woods near where Jess sat. From a distance one of them could have been Tekoa though he wasn't. The other man glanced up and the knowledge was suddenly there, inside Clay, that both men were whatever the hell he'd become.

  The tug came again, harder, but not insistent.

  Beneath him the first man reached Jess and crouched next to her. "I'm Ukiah."

  "The artist."

  Worry melted away. She'd recognized the name from some conversation she must have had with Tekoa.

  "One and the same," Ukiah said. "And this is Tenino, our cousin."

  "The deputy."

  Tenino crouched at her other side. "So he's told you about us. You hurt? I smell blood."

  "A bullet grazed my back and I did something to my ankle. I can't walk very well."

  "Lean forward," Tenino said. "Let me look at your back."

  Clay tried to move closer but the flap of his wings filled the air with the boom of thunder and sent a gust of wind slamming into Jess and the two men.

  Ukiah glanced up with a patient expression that reminded Clay of Jess when she was dealing with preschoolers during a story reading.

  He cringed and let the air buffet him and carry him upward.

  Ukiah removed Jess's shoe and sock, then probed her ankle. She jerked and gave a soft cry.

  Tenino said, "What's the damage?"

  "Pretty severe sprain. Maybe a fracture. We'd have to carry her out of here and chances are it'd swell a lot more by the time we met up with Tekoa and Clay. You up for a sing?"

  "Sure thing." Tenino grinned. "It'll be like striking gold to hear Tekoa say, I owe you one."

  "True, especially if you sell the marker to one of the cousins."

  "You know what we're talking about doing?" Ukiah asked Jess.

  She nodded. "Clay was injured. Tekoa did a sing for him."

  "We'll get started then," Ukiah said, shedding his jacket and spreading it on the wet ground.

  Tenino's jacket joined Ukiah's and Jessica lay down. "Eyes closed?"

  "Yes," Ukiah said.

  She closed her eyes and Clay heard a drum beat. And that beat was joined by chanting, the same sounds he'd heard before op
ening his eyes and seeing the old Native American guy squatting on the other side of a campfire, crushing a tobacco leaf and rolling it into a cigarette.

  There was a sharper tug this time, and this time he was ready to follow it. He wanted to get to Jess. He wanted to hold her in his arms and make love to her. He wanted her to say yes all over again to marrying him, to let him put the ring back on her finger.

  Focus, Tekoa had said before leaving. Clay wasn't sure whether he needed to refocus or do the opposite of focus.

  Christ. He wasn't sure he was cut out for this mystical shit.

  The gray coldness closed in on him, more tightly this time, and though he didn't have lips that'd form a grin, inside the Thunderbird's form his spirit managed it. Hell, who was he kidding? This was the ultimate adventure—or it would be when he could experience it while Jess was safe.

  He opened his eyes in the cruiser's backseat. Sat and said, "We getting close?"

  Tekoa cut him a look. "That your version of 'Are we there yet?' because if it is, we're taking separate cars when we go on vacation."

  "If I promise not to ask for at least another mile, will you let me out of the cage?"

  "Make it five miles."

  "Done."

  He pulled over and let Clay out of the backseat. A quick kiss and a dash around the cruiser and Clay was in the passenger seat. "How far?"

  Tekoa groaned, but he didn't blame Clay. Even knowing Jessica was safe, healed, and heading toward them, they were both going to be strung out until they got her home. And even after they got her back to the cabin, he wasn't sure how long it'd be before they'd let her out of their sight.

  He'd been a cop long enough to have experienced some dicey, dangerous situations. But nothing had ever scared him as badly as seeing Jessica defenseless and kneeling as a would-be rapist and murderer walked toward her with a gun in his hand.

  If they'd arrived a few minutes later…maybe a few seconds later… Tekoa closed his mind against bloody, might-have-happened scenarios. She was safe and according to both his brother and cousin, she was handling what had happened well enough to say she'd drive the truck back.

  There was no chance of that happening. Ukiah would take the truck to his place and stash the groceries there. Tekoa figured he and Clay and Jessica would get around to collecting them—eventually.

  Technically he should go to the crime scene but with the escaped felon dead by natural causes and his latest carjacked victim soon to be in extreme protective custody, Tekoa was content to let others deal with the body.

  The radio chirped and Tenino's voice said, "I'm passing the road to the old Briggs' place. Visibility is almost zero but I think I'm seeing lights. That you up ahead?"

  "That's us."

  Clay reached for the door handle. Tekoa shook his head and said, "Looks like I've got my work cut out for me. You and Jess both seem to have a habit of wanting to leap from moving vehicles."

  Ahead of them, Tenino in the Sheriff Department's Jeep, stopped and turned on his flashers.

  Tekoa hit the gas, as anxious as Clay was to get to Jess.

  The instant he braked, Clay was out of the cruiser.

  Tekoa was a heartbeat behind him though he spared a glance toward the Jeep's driver side window.

  Tenino mouthed You owe me then turned off the flashers and drove away, leaving the road clear, and finally Jess was in their arms, held between them.

  "Don't think you're going out on your own anytime soon," Tekoa said, voice husky and eyes stinging, kissing her thoroughly each time Clay took his mouth off Jessica's. Only yielding her completely to Clay because someone needed to drive them all back to the cabin.

  "Let's go home," he said, giving Jess a final kiss before returning to the driver's seat.

  They got into the cruiser, her on Clay's lap, and for a heartbeat Tekoa felt apart from them, but then she took his hand, his eyes met hers, then Clay's, then returned to hers and he knew he'd never feel separate again. They were his mates. He was their mate.

  Her hand tightened on his and he read a question in her eyes, the hesitation, as if in the warmth of the cruiser and in Clay's arms, she doubted what she'd seen.

  "When we get home, I'll show you what it means to belong to The People."

  She nodded and he hit the gas, flicked on the lights and siren.

  Clay laughed, nuzzled Jess's hair and said, "Guess the Sheriff is in a hurry to get you in the sack."

  Jess tugged Clay's hair. "And you're not?"

  He cupped her breasts, eliciting a moan from Tekoa and sending a lightning strike of need to her sex.

  "Always, babe. You know I always want you." He parted the jacket, the oxford shirt she'd put on what seemed like a lifetime ago, spread the fabric and grasped her nipples.

  "You two are going to force me to bring out the handcuffs," Tekoa said, carrying her hand to the front of his pants.

  The soft material of his sweats didn't shield his hard length.

  "So he missed me?" she teased and Tekoa's smile was the bright flash of fireflies on a summer night.

  "Oh yeah, you'll find he's every bit as devoted to you, and dependent on you as Clay's cock. He's definitely a guy ready to stand at attention at a moment's notice and serve in the line of duty."

  "I'm gagging over here," Clay said, then went back to nuzzling and kissing her neck, concentrating on making her moan with the tug and twist and squeeze of her nipples.

  Eventually the totem poles came into view. They stood tall and stark, darkened by the storm and fiercer than before, as though they would guard not only against real danger but any that might ride in on a nightmare.

  Tekoa's hand squeezed hers. "You're safe now."

  She nodded, not only safe but whole in a way she hadn't been before entering Thunderbird lands.

  They passed between the poles, through forests of cedar and fir, parked in the spot they had when Clay lay across the back seat. But this time he got out of the cruiser with her in his arms.

  Tekoa reached the front door first and opened it. Stripped out of his clothes on the way to the fireplace.

  Clay carried her to the desk, released her so she slid down his body and stood. His eyes met hers, full of so much emotion that her throat clogged.

  "Marry me, Jess."

  Tekoa finished stoking the fire and joined them, standing behind her. Strong, possessive hands stripped her of the wet jacket and shirt, cupped her breasts before sliding over her stomach to the front of the jeans.

  "Among The People, the three of us are already married."

  The drink. The lovemaking in front of the fire, when she'd imagined he'd brought the Thunderbird to life—only she hadn't imagined it.

  "Works for me," Clay said, his hands joining Tekoa's, undoing her jeans, pushing them down, her heart swelling, need flaring in a hard burst between her legs.

  He knelt in front of her, tugged off her shoes and socks, rid her of the jeans then pressed his mouth to her sex. Her breath caught with the lap of his tongue.

  Tekoa's laugh was a soft puff against her neck. "I've been warned, he'll use any advantage, won't he?"

  "Yes," she said on a moan, hips jerking as Clay stroked his tongue over her clit.

  Tekoa placed hungry, sucking kisses and tiny nips along her shoulder and up her neck, thrust his tongue into her ear. "Tell him you'll marry him. Let him put the ring on your finger and then the three of us can soar."

  "Yes," she said, hands grasping Clay's hair and drawing him back to her mouth. "Yes, I'll marry you."

  A hard kiss, the shared taste of her arousal, first with her and then with Tekoa, and Clay picked up the ring she'd left next to the grizzly family and slipped it back onto her finger.

  Tekoa swung her up into his arms. Kissed her as he carried her toward the bed and Clay shed his clothing.

  She shivered at the touch of sheets against her back. Shivered again at the press of hot skin and the welcome weight of her two men as Tekoa lay on her right, half on top of her, while Clay lay on h
er left.

  Tekoa plundered her mouth. Every kiss a possessive claiming, and her heart sang, I'm yours, yours, yours.

  He yielded her lips to Clay and kissed down to her breast. He laved the nipple, bit then pulled it into his mouth. She moaned and arched her back, her hand encircled Clay's cock, slid up and down in time to Tekoa's sucking.

  Clay's tongue became more aggressive. His fingers rubbed her stiffened clit.

  She bucked under the assault and Tekoa's fingers pushed into her channel and filled her with rough thickness. "Please," she begged against Clay's mouth. "Please."

  "Not yet. Not after what we've just been through."

  He kissed her again, a long wet declaration of devotion. Then he left her lips to join Tekoa at her breasts.

  She trembled at having them both sucking her nipples. Her hands gripped their hair. Her thighs widened further, silently pleading for them to touch everything, to love her everywhere. She couldn't control the whimpers, the breathless pleas, the sharp cries.

  Tekoa's face lifted though he held her nipple until it popped free of his mouth. His eyes met hers and in them was the same heartfelt caring she'd seen in Clay's so many times.

  She didn't know how it had happened so quickly. She was cautious by nature, fearful of getting hurt emotionally, but he'd already claimed her heart and soul, along with her body.

  She tugged his hair so his mouth returned to hers. She needed to say the words. "I love you."

  His smile was like sunshine. His happiness so open and honest that it brought tears to her eyes.

  "I love you too," he said against her lips. "You're my mate, my wife."

  He kissed her gently, tenderly, reverently, as though the kiss was an unspoken covenant. He kissed her again, then lifted his head, amusement in his eyes. "Clay's going to take a little more effort, but you I already adore."

  Her laugh became a moan of pleasure as his mouth took hers and Clay's pressed to the wet, needy place between her thighs. They kissed her deeply, thoroughly. Their tongues probed and stroked, licked and rubbed, pushed her higher until there was only wave after wave of searing ecstasy.