Death Chant

by Vella Munn

  “You’re hot,” he muttered. “I wasn’t sure—so soon.”

  “I didn’t know it would happen like this,” she told him as she lifted her buttocks off the mattress in invitation. “It feels…”

  His face went out of focus as he leaned down. Then he licked the breast closest to him while cradling her mons, and she understood this was what it felt like to die. Much as she wanted to hold still, she couldn’t. A nail snagged, but that didn’t stop her from clutching the spread.

  He repeatedly deposited moisture on her breast, chuckling low in his throat when she whimpered. Her nipples became so hard they hurt while juices trickled from her. Even with her labored breathing, she heard rain hammering the roof. No one would be out tonight. Whatever happened between them would remain their secret. Their world.

  When he drew her breast into his mouth and pressed his tongue against her aching nipple, she scratched his chest. His breathing became deeper, faster. She sounded the same. The hand covering her mons began a downward journey, touching the hot, soft flesh there.

  “Yes,” she gasped and arched upward again. “Oh, yes.”

  To her great disappointment, he straightened. The moisture on her breast started to cool, distracting her a little from the teasing touches to her sex.

  “Sorry,” he muttered. “My back wasn’t made for that position. Besides, there’s something I need to do while I can still function.”

  Watching him open the condom package and roll it over his beautiful penis seemed unreal. This was happening to someone else, a woman in control of her life.

  Desperate to have him over her, she started to scoot higher on the bed. He helped her turn so she was lengthwise on it and stretched out on his side next to her. She faced him, then lifted her leg over his hip. When his erection stroked her lower belly, she arched her pelvis toward him.

  He slid a hand between them and from there to her core. “You’re ready for me?” he whispered.

  “Yes. Oh yes.”

  A single move on his part and he was inside her, the connection made. The penetration wasn’t deep, and their ability to move was restricted, but she loved being one with him. When he splayed his hand over her back to hold her in place, she silently thanked him by lightly rubbing his arm. She wasn’t relaxed, hardly that, but neither did she want to hurry. Judging by his long, slow thrusts, he felt the same way. Sighing, she pressed her thigh against his buttocks. Her breasts brushed his chest.

  It was happening.

  Time passed. Her mind sank into a secret place. She experienced arousal and peace, expectation and relaxation. Connection. A deeply imbedded heat kept growing. At first, she was barely aware of where the journey was taking her, but then her awakened body surrendered to necessity. With every breath she took, with each masculine invasion, she became hungrier.

  Bordering on desperate, she scratched his shoulder.

  “What?” he muttered.

  Tonight, you’re my world. “Just getting your attention.”

  He pushed into her. “You already have it.”

  The exchange distracted her from ever-building desire. When she reconnected with her body, she realized her desire had doubled. She again scratched his arm, harder this time. He pressed his fingertips against the small of her back. Lightning seared her channel.

  An animal-like moan escaped her. Feeding off it, she kissed the man who’d become the most important person in her life. He answered with a bruising kiss of his own, then clutched her to him and rolled her under him. He slipped out. Staring up at him, she opened her legs.

  Instead of stretching out over her as she expected, he straddled her hips, his knees pressing into the mattress. Grabbing her around the middle, he lifted her waist off the bed. She bent her knees, and he settled into the space she’d created. Using her heels for leverage, she rose up and offered her sex to him.

  He again filled her, the penetration deeper this time, wild. She flung her head to the side and closed her eyes, slipped into sensation. He continued to hold her up and in perfect alignment. Eager to let him know this time meant everything, she ran her hands over his thighs. She didn’t care whether he was looking at her or had closed himself into his own world. Their bodies had become one.

  More than just their bodies. Jay Raven was no longer the stranger he’d been a few short days ago. He’d become her lover as fully as she’d become his.

  He repeatedly pushed into her, prompting her to set a pace designed to create as much inner friction as possible. Her body started to melt, a delicious sensation she wanted to continue for the rest of her life.

  Her life.

  Joined with his.

  Calling what tore through her ‘heat’ didn’t come close. She loved to climax and had taught herself the art of self-pleasure. But those solitary hours always left her slightly unfulfilled, more alone at the end than when she began. That was in the past, because she and Jay had connected.

  Become one.

  Moving toward the same goal.

  Flame bled into flame. No longer content to let him direct the pace of their lovemaking, she clutched what she could of his thighs and pulled him toward her, trying to deepen the union. As she did, she repeatedly clenched and released her sex muscles. She was riding something without form or direction, still floating, panting.

  Her breasts jiggled, her nipples pulsed, her juices bathed his erection, and she breathed.

  Sex.

  Giving this man her all.

  Climaxing.

  Crying unshed tears.

  * * * *

  Long seconds later, she came back to earth to realize Jay had climbed off her and was on his side. His attention was on the window behind her.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Listen.”

  The rain hadn’t let up, but there was more to the night. Interspersed with the drumming, she heard a welcome sound. The low vibration touched her everywhere.

  “Wolf,” she whispered. “He doesn’t mind the rain.”

  “He’s communicating with you?” Jay asked.

  “Yes.”

  He nodded and continued to stare at the window. After a few seconds, his eyes widened. “There,” he whispered.

  Shock briefly stole her voice. “You heard?”

  “Yes.”

  They stared at each other as the long, otherworldly moan continued. When it ended, she waited, hoping Wolf would start again. Jay slid off the bed and walked over to the window. She couldn’t stop looking at his naked silhouette or feeling his emotion.

  “So that’s what you’ve been hearing?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  He faced her. “It’s so clear, so easy to identify, but I couldn’t until tonight. Until us.”

  Thank you, Wolf.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Last night had been more than Jay had believed a night with a woman could be. They’d made love a total of three times while it rained and Wolf’s cry echoed what was happening inside. He’d hoped there’d be time for one more round before they addressed what today needed to be about, but when he’d cupped his hand around her breast and started to kiss Winter, she’d slipped out of bed and gone into the bathroom.

  As the shower ran, he called his uncle. His veiled attempt to see how Talio was doing didn’t fool the older man, who’d told him he hadn’t slept well.

  “I’m not sure what it is,” Uncle Talio said. “Something isn’t right in the land of my ancestors. I need to stop focusing on myself and open my soul to Eagle.”

  Uncle Talio had never been self-absorbed. Besides, Eagle wouldn’t blame him for concentrating on recovery. After telling his uncle he’d try to see him later, he again punched in Floyd’s number.

  “This isn’t funny,” he said to voicemail. “Man up, bro. Call me back. Or at least call Uncle Talio.”

  “I take it you didn’t have any luck reaching your brother,” Winter said. She’d come out of the shower and was reaching for a flannel shirt.

  Noting that she
was avoiding his eyes, he didn’t bother shaking his head. He wasn’t his brother’s keeper. Maybe Floyd was in jail, which might be the best thing for him. “I’d like to show you some of my favorite places today, if that’s what you want to do.”

  She closed the fabric over her front. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Something’s on your mind,” he made himself say. “If you’re regretting—”

  “No.” She started buttoning buttons. “I’ll never regret what happened between us, but Jay…”

  Here it comes, he thought. She was going to tell him that what she felt for him didn’t go deep enough for a relationship, but how could that be when Wolf— “But what? I want honesty between us.”

  “Honesty,” she repeated on the tail of a long sigh. “You’re right. I have to— Jay, would you take me to see your brother?”

  He hadn’t seen that coming. After pushing his naked body off the bed and grabbing his clothes, he started for the bathroom, only to stop because he didn’t like anything about what was happening.

  “I should have said something before.” She clutched at fabric. “But it was so damn hard. Your brother and Doc—they were working together.”

  He felt as if he’d been punched. Images of Floyd as a hero-worshipping kid brother filled his mind’s eye. “I didn’t. You’re sure?”

  “Yes, unfortunately I am.”

  Where was Wolf? Why the hell couldn’t he and Winter go back to last night? “Give me a minute to—never mind. Tell me now. Whatever happened between them wasn’t simply work, was it?” He had to force the question. Had to accept what his brother had kept from him. “You wouldn’t be this upset if it was. And Floyd would have told me.”

  Leaving her shirt half-buttoned, she collapsed in one of the two kitchen chairs. “Do you believe I want this conversation? Suspecting Floyd of— It’s the last thing I want to do.”

  His head roared and, for an instant, he wondered if he was having a heart attack, but it was only shock.

  The worst kind of shock. “Wait, what? Are you saying my brother might have killed Dr. Gilsdorf?”

  Her silence and lack of eye contact told him more than he wanted to know. Being naked added to his vulnerability. He needed to ask himself why Wolf had revealed his existence just before his world twisted.

  “I’m taking a shower. Don’t go anywhere,” he said. “It can’t remain like this.”

  “I know.” The way she was looking around, he suspected she wanted to escape as much as he did.

  He spent more time than necessary in the shower, because he couldn’t get his mind to stop spinning. He found nothing. Refused to believe his brother could be capable of murder. Wondered whether he understood Floyd at all.

  Unlike Winter, he didn’t exit the bathroom until he was dressed. She was at the stove, cooking something but, although his stomach grumbled, he didn’t give a damn about eating. He poured coffee for both of them, not bothering to ask how she took hers. As she placed scrambled eggs on two plates, he buttered the toast she’d started. They sat across from each other.

  She picked up a forkful of eggs then set it down. She nodded at her laptop, which she’d moved to the recliner.

  “Doc left me a letter. A file, really.”

  Be part of this conversation. No matter how difficult it is, face it. “When?”

  “I’m not sure when he wrote it, not long before his death. It was in a storage key I found in his cabin.”

  Anger fought for a toehold in his mind. “And you’re just now telling me about it.”

  “Jay, please hear me out. I need to say this before it becomes even harder.”

  For the first time since daylight, she truly looked at him. Her expression put him in mind of a trapped animal. He didn’t hate her but couldn’t say how he felt. She stumbled over the telling, but he got the gist. A worried-for-himself Dr. Gilsdorf had come up with a way to pass some key information on to Winter. She didn’t go into the specifics of Dr. Gilsdorf’s relationship with Floyd, and he had no doubt she was keeping things from him, but apparently the professor had paid Floyd to help him with his project. Things had gone well for a while, but then they’d had a falling out and Floyd had refused to have anything more to do with Dr. Gilsdorf.

  “Doc can—could—be incredibly persistent when he wanted something,” she said as their eggs cooled. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he kept pressure on Floyd. Maybe—damn it, I have to be honest.” She looked beyond him to the mist-filled morning. “I want to avoid saying certain things because…”

  “Because it’ll change how you think about Dr. Gilsdorf.”

  It had been a guess on his part, but, judging by her flared nostrils, he was right at least in part. “He was my hero. He still is. Knowing someone killed him tears me apart.”

  It can’t be my brother, damn it. He wouldn’t— “You aren’t going to let me see what he wrote, are you?”

  She shook her head. “Not now. I can’t.”

  How in the hell had she been able to dismiss her suspicions of his brother while they fucked?

  He tore his toast in half, then held the pieces up and studied the ragged edges. “If they’d disagreed about working conditions that would be the end of it. Dr. Gilsdorf would look for someone to take his place.” He dropped the toast on top of his eggs. “My brother was a hell of a lot more than a guide, wasn’t he? What couldn’t Dr. Gilsdorf let go of? What was enough to—oh, hell, I can’t believe I’m saying this—what would make my brother desperate enough to kill?”

  She stabbed her eggs. “What makes you suspect he was desperate?”

  Or drunk. “I shouldn’t have said that. Floyd isn’t a violent person.”

  Her hand jerked up and down as she poked more holes in her breakfast. “I don’t want to think anyone is capable of that kind of violence, but someone is. Someone with a lot at stake.”

  He grabbed her wrist, stopping her action. “Like Dr. Wilheim. Maybe Michael or Booth.” He wouldn’t be surprised if Michael had been furious at Dr. Gilsdorf for giving him the brush-off, but Booth wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities—unless whoever had knifed Dr. Gilsdorf hadn’t known his victim.

  Yeah, right. Mad Slasher running though Olympic. Happens all the time.

  “Jay?”

  There was the vulnerable tone he’d heard before. “What?”

  She got up and walked over to the window. After wiping condensation off it with her sleeve, she peered out. The weather forecast was for a return to sunlight. He wondered if it would make a difference to Wolf.

  “What if Floyd had shown Doc something he shouldn’t have?”

  His heart pounded. No way would Floyd reveal the existence of Grandparents Cave to an outsider—unless he’d been too drunk for caution.

  “Is that what he did?” He didn’t trust himself to touch Winter. “You’re convinced my brother revealed something, and Dr. Gilsdorf wouldn’t let it go.”

  “Couldn’t let it go,” she corrected. “Jay, Doc’s whole career had led up to what he hoped to accomplish here. The stakes were so high.”

  They couldn’t have been any higher than what a sober-again Floyd might have been forced to face. If he’d told Dr. Gilsdorf about Grandparents Cave, he could have believed only the professor’s death would ensure the safety of what was in it.

  He imagined turning Winter around. They’d wrap their arms around each other. Their mouths would meet. Maybe they’d return to the narrow bed and silence thoughts with sex. He’d listen for Wolf, thank Wolf.

  Instead, he said, “I’ll take you to him.”

  * * * *

  Jay had had to clench his teeth to keep from commenting on his brother’s housing. Floyd wasn’t making much money, but he could have afforded something better than the single-wide trailer at the rear of a wrecking yard. Apparently, the previous renter had gotten free rent in exchange for guarding the rusting vehicles, and Floyd had agreed to do the same. Considering how many evenings Floyd spent at Seger’s Bar, Jay didn’t see how his bro
ther could guard anything.

  Winter looked around as he eased past the cars and trucks, but she didn’t say anything. They’d barely spoken during the ride into Forks, and he’d spent it mentally trying to flesh out what she’d told him. No matter how much he needed the truth from Winter, she hadn’t given him enough. He refused to beg, vowed to get Floyd to tell him everything.

  Seeing the yard from her perspective embarrassed him. Accepting Floyd was one thing, but showing someone he cared about what his brother’s life consisted of was something else. He wanted to explain that beneath the drunk was a good and sensitive man.

  A man capable of murder?

  So many weeds and bushes were between the trailer and business that most people weren’t aware it was back there. Probably the owner’s intention. He was so intent on dodging potholes, he nearly reached the trailer before he spotted Floyd’s pickup. Seeing it here on a weekday surprised him.

  “What is it?” Winter asked.

  The concern in her voice ended his vow to say as little as possible. “He should be at work.”

  “Why didn’t we go there?”

  “I have a key to this place. I wanted to see if there was anything in there that might tie him to Dr. Gilsdorf.”

  “You think—”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose until it hurt. “I don’t know what to think.”

  “I’m sorry I asked you to come here. To involve you.”

  “Too late.”

  She stared at the trailer. “I don’t want to do this.”

  Not as much as I don’t. “Let’s get this over with. He might be drunk. Maybe he lost his job. It’s possible he hasn’t been answering his phone or seeing Uncle Talio because he’s ashamed. Hell. Oh, hell.”

  Her big, black eyes nearly undid him. “I wish it were last night,” she whispered.

  Me too.

  The narrow wooden steps leading to the trailer tilted under Jay’s weight. There wasn’t room for both of them, and he’d deliberately taken the lead so—what? So he could confront his brother?