by Sahara Kelly
“So this will set us free?” Gaia’s mouth quirked. “Sort of like really good dope back in the sixties? Or so my mother tells me?”
Jake looked a little self-conscious. “I wouldn’t know, of course, being a properly brought up psychiatrist. But, in essence, yes.”
Gaia grinned in her turn. “Okay. I believe you.”
“Thanks.” He huffed an exaggerated sigh of relief. “College days aside, this stuff really does help. It’s not a cure-all, but if it will get you further into your dreams, you’ll be in a better position to understand them and deal with them.”
Gaia rose from her seat, as did Ned. She reached for her purse only to pause as Jake added one more comment.
“Do either of you have a particular affinity for birds, by any chance?”
Silence fell for a moment or two after that odd question. Then Gaia spoke. “I have a little heron tattoo. I know my ancestors were of the Heron clan. It seemed right. I’ve always loved them.”
Ned’s gulp was audible. “Funny you should say that.” He reached inside his shirt and pulled out a small charm—what Native Americans called a “fetish”. It was shaped like a heron. “My grandmother gave me this when I turned twenty-one. I found it when I got home and—I—er—” He glanced at Jake. “Why?”
“Just a theory I’m working on.” Jake shrugged. “Probably not important here, but good to know.” He moved to his briefcase. “I’m going to give you a couple of phone numbers and my address at home…”
While he rummaged, Ned leaned close to Gaia. “Where is your tattoo?”
“On my ankle. You didn’t see it?” She whispered back.
“I was kinda busy in other places, babe.”
His grin was pure sinfulness and Gaia couldn’t help chuckling back at him. “Yeah. I suppose I can understand that.”
“Here you are.” Jake passed over some cards and a leaflet or two. “So go eat dinner and get comfortable. There is one thing I recommend here…try and keep your hands off each other, okay?”
“Huh?” Gaia blinked.
“Sex.” Jake said the word without flinching. “Don’t have it. Not until after you’ve tried this stuff.”
“Uh…” Ned blushed this time. “Okay. If you say so.”
“I do.” Jake continued without pause. “Sex exhausts the mind and the body. It messes with your brain chemistry along with other things. Do the relaxation-dream link first. Then…feel free to boink your brains out.”
“Sheesh.” Gaia tried to look shocked.
“Hey.” Ned grinned. “Now we have a genuine prescription from our doctor, honey. Get drunk and have sex. I can live with that. A helluva lot better than antibiotics and take two aspirin…”
“Out.” Gaia shoved at Ned’s shoulders. “You’re embarrassing me.”
Jake looked at her speculatively. “My wife would love you. And she’d have given me hell for what I said just now. But I don’t retract it. Please try what I’ve recommended, let me know how it works and if you’re still having the dreams, or problems with them, call me?”
The obligatory thanks and parting sentiments were uttered and Gaia found herself back in the elevator with Ned, astounded that over two hours had flown by in the fascinating company of Dr. Jake Corvo.
They were silent, as if by mutual consent, until they reached Ned’s car. His chin tilted up toward her as he unlocked her door. “So, what do you think?”
She gazed back at him, so tall and handsome, truly the warrior of her dreams in so many ways. Her body tingled at his closeness, her heart pounded fiercely in her chest and she knew he was leaving their course of action up to her.
She could ask him to head back to the airport, where she could grab the next shuttle home to DC and never see him again. Or…
Gaia took a breath and smiled. “Dinner sounds good.”
*~~*~~*
They drove out of the city as the light was fading, heading back to Cambridge. Ned knew just where to go for dinner—his favorite little nook where they could feast on the best Italian food in the world.
Gaia seemed enthusiastic, surprisingly so to his mind, commenting on Boston, the Charles River and enjoying the drive. Ned enjoyed it too, seeing his home through her eyes. He parked near his apartment and turned off the engine. “Dinner first? Or do you want to go inside and freshen up?”
She grinned. “I’m fresh. I’m also hungry. Let’s eat, drink and be whatever. Once we get inside, we have work to do.”
He grinned back. “Gotcha.”
Gina’s was Ned’s favorite eating place, off the beaten path but offering the freshest and tastiest food around, to his mind anyway. Gina herself welcomed them, hugging Ned, fussing around them and tucking them finally into a little booth, promising them pizza as soon as it came out of the oven.
“Just the way you like, Ned.” She beamed, her accent strong and betraying her European origins. “Loaded with everything and extra cheese, yes?”
Gaia giggled. “You might want to hold the onions.”
“Oh ho.” Gina chuckled. “Like that, is it?”
“Maybe.” Gaia laughed. “But I’m not a big fan of onions. And if there’s any anchovies, move them to his side please?”
Ned settled himself on the bench. “No anchovies. I won’t go that far.”
“Thank God.” Gaia leaned back. “This is nice, Ned.”
He glanced around. “Yeah, I like it. The pizza’s fabulous, I can always get a table, even on Saturday nights, and Gina’s a sweetheart.”
Gaia looked across the table at him. “I’m glad I came.”
“So am I.” He gazed steadily back at her. “Dreams aside, Gaia, I’m real glad you’re here. I missed you.”
“It’s only been a few days.”
“Seems like longer.”
Gaia’s heart twisted as she watched him. This man had touched her in ways she’d not expected. And he was right, it wasn’t just the dreams that had bound them together. The arrival of Gina with their pizza and drinks interrupted her train of thought and the fragrance alone had her mouth watering before it was even cut.
“God, that smells fabulous.”
A party of students entered, noisy, boisterous and filling the small restaurant with enough noise to make intimate conversation an impossibility. Gaia started on her pizza with mixed feelings. She’d like to have pursued that idea, the notion that Ned was somebody very special to her in the here and now, not just as a dream image of a warrior long ago.
But it wasn’t to be. They smiled and shrugged as the noise level increased tenfold and Gaia simply relaxed into the meal, matching Ned beer for beer and relishing the thick Italian sausage littering the overloaded pizza between them.
Finally, when they both declared themselves stuffed to the adenoids, Gaia stretched and put the last spoonful of her tiramisu back on the dish. “Can’t do it. I’m absolutely replete. Which is the fancy way of saying I ate too much.”
Ned looked relaxed too. “This was fun.”
“It was. And to think it was the doctor’s orders. I wonder what he’d prescribe for the flu.”
“The mind boggles.” Ned took care of the check, left a tip and kissed Gina on the cheek as they gathered their belongings.
The cold air smacked Gaia in the face as they stepped out of the fragrant warmth onto the Cambridge street. “Whoa. It gets damn nippy up here early, doesn’t it?”
“Wimp.” Ned put his arm around her and hugged her close. “We’ll be home in a few. I’ll light the fire.”
“You have a fireplace?” Gaia’s neck swiveled at that piece of news. “A real one? Not one of those gas things?”
Ned looked smug. “Yep.”
“Decadent capitalist.” She tucked herself against him. “I can’t wait to see it.”
Ned stopped by his car before they turned to his front door. “Wait a minute, I have to get that bottle of whatever Jake gave us.”
Gaia paused, breathing in the chilly air, listening to the low murmur of sounds a
round her. Traffic hooted a few blocks away, soft music could be heard from one of the neat houses on the street—she tried to capture the moment like a mental snapshot. As if she could hold time in her mind.
“Here we are.” Ned emerged from his car with the bottle. “You ready for this?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” The meal had been wonderful, the beers had slipped down her throat like nectar—yep, she was ready. “I need to pee first, though. For some reason, I don’t drink beers, I merely rent them for an hour or two.”
Ned’s laugh preceded her into his apartment, an amazingly neat first floor residence, rich with old Victorian woodwork and interesting nooks and crannies. Plus the promised fireplace.
“Oh, this is nice, Ned.” Gaia put her jacket and bag down on a small table and wandered around, touching the carved molding and ending up in front of the mantelpiece. “Beautiful. I can understand why you picked it.”
Ned nodded. “I couldn’t resist it. The bathroom’s down the hall to the left.”
“Thanks.” Gaia headed that way, eager to get going with the rest of the evening’s “entertainment”.
When she returned, Ned had—as promised—started a fire. The glow was charming, reflecting off the polished surfaces. Gaia smiled. “You’re neat.”
“I have to be.” He shrugged. “I learned in college I’d never find a damn thing if I didn’t get myself some sort of organization.” He led her to a large overstuffed chair facing the fireplace. “Here. Sit. I’ll pour us a shot of that magic elixir.”
“Okay.” She settled herself into the cushions, feeling them snuggle around her in welcome. “Where are you going to sit?”
Ned returned with two small glasses, half full of a reddish liquid. “Right where I’m most comfortable.” He passed her a glass and sat on the floor in front of her chair. “Move your legs a little.” He leaned back, his shoulders resting between her parted knees, his head tilting to find a comfortable spot on her thigh.
“Nice.” She sighed with pleasure as they both stared into the flames and sipped their drinks. “This is good stuff…”
And it was. A warm glow was already spreading from Gaia’s belly through her body, making her limbs heavy and her head a little fuzzy. Or maybe it was the weight of Ned’s head, pressing into her leg. She didn’t know and, right now, she didn’t particularly care.
Whatever it was, she felt—wonderful.
Ned’s hand slipped beneath her calf and he lifted her knee to rest over his shoulder. “Better.” His hands removed her shoe and rubbed her foot gently.
“Oh shit, Ned. That is…” She struggled for words. “Sublime!” Gaia closed her eyes as the sensual massage turned her to a useless lump of jelly.
“My specialty.”
His lips brushed her skin and she felt something tingle. She jumped a little. “What was that?”
“What?”
“Something—touched me.”
Ned was quiet for a moment. “It must have been my charm.” He shifted position a tiny bit. “Like this?”
The tingle came again and Gaia realized he was holding his fetish necklace against her tattooed ankle. “Well, if that isn’t just the freakiest thing…”
The sensation was one of sheer pleasure, a slow burn that traveled up her leg to her most personal and private places, making her want to squirm and pull his head to her pussy.
She finished her drink and put the glass down beside them, even as Ned did the same thing and rested his head more comfortably, nuzzling and stroking her until her senses swam.
“Mmm…” It was a sigh of utter contentment. She wanted to purr, but was just too tired right at this moment…
The weight of Ned’s head grew heavier and his hands eased their stroking. The room was silent but for the soft crackle of the fire and the sound of rain outside, a steady patter of droplets that had obligingly waited for them to get inside before starting to fall.
It was cozy, wonderful, blissful—Gaia’s mind ran out of adjectives to describe it.
She simply let it go and fell into it without a qualm.
Chapter Ten
There was something different in the air of the forest. Nohnohsot could almost smell the tension, the fear—the eagerness with which he and his fellow warriors crept silently through the undergrowth, nearing their quarry.
His head was shaved, smooth but for the erect strip that marked him as Seneca. Their long-time foes, the Huron, would be expecting an attack, but possibly not this early, not when dawn had barely broken.
It was hard to tell even that, since thick clouds had obscured the sunrise and the mutterings of a storm threatened bad weather on this day. It would be bad for the Huron. Nohnohsot was nothing if not confident in his fighting skills. He’d been tried and tested, as had his fellow warriors.
They would be triumphant. They would return as victors. Then he could face the issue of Gandewitha’s betrothal.
Their parting had been bittersweet, their loving extraordinary. He couldn’t imagine himself with another woman, any more than he could imagine her body invaded by another man.
If they had to flee, they would. He knew they would both willingly do whatever they had to in order to stay together forever. There was wild land to the west and the north—trading posts to the south. Plenty of places where two people could blend and disappear if necessary.
A chirrup from a distance jerked him from his thoughts and he dropped silently to a crouch, hand on his bow. It was the signal to stop, to wait—hidden—for their enemy to appear.
This was a good place to conceal themselves, thick brush surrounding one of the few paths across these hills. The Huron were brave, but preferred the comfort of using cleared tracks rather than risking the wilderness of an unfamiliar forest.
They would be silent, though. In this half-light, all the Seneca would need their sharp eyes and their even sharper hearing to detect the approach of their foes. Leaves brushed Nohnohsot’s naked shoulders, but he ignored them. He was silent as a rock, knowing that the slightest sound could mean the difference between success and failure.
Failure meant only one thing. Death.
His knife nestled against his spine and his bow was at the ready, arrows sharp and as eager to find their target as he was to shoot them. His throat moved on a quiet swallow. The waiting was the worst.
There would be a volley of arrows flying freely once the enemy was within sight, then fierce combat, brave to brave, warrior against warrior, Seneca against Huron. Blood would be spilled and spirits would rise to walk with their ancestors. It was the way of their world and they accepted it.
But now, Nohnohsot wished that perhaps such things could end. That he could live with Gandewitha in a time of peace, raising their children together and finally becoming spirits in the heavens, side by side, resting for eternity in each other’s arms.
Another bird called, softly, from a distance.
Nohnohsot’s dream of peace evaporated rapidly as he recognized the sound. The Huron were on the move.
He couldn’t know that a short distance behind the Seneca warriors another figure was moving. As silent as they, this slender body wove through the brush, fingers grasping a bow and heart pounding beneath breasts bound tightly with strips of fabric and leather.
Nohnohsot would not have believed such a thing possible—and yet perhaps he would not have been surprised to see this figure.
Gandewitha had no intention of allowing him to see her at all. She simply could not stand waiting behind for his return or for news of his death. It would have been an unbearable torture. Shortly after the braves left their settlement, she had crept from her house, as stealthy as any Seneca brave.
She was a fine shot with her bow and taller than many a man. So what if the women were expected to stay by the fires, raising the children, running the tribe? That was acceptable for many, but not this Seneca woman.
Not Gandewitha.
Her hair bundled tightly around her head and her betraying breast
s confined beneath their bindings, she had followed her lover skillfully and quietly, always staying far enough behind to avoid detection, yet within range of anything that might occur.
She too, heard the call that signaled danger approaching and dropped to her knees on the soft bed of pine needles beneath a large tree. Motionless, she waited, ears alert for the slightest sound.
And there it was. Lifting her head like a fox sensing its prey, Gandewitha caught the unmistakable whoosh of arrows flying free, the grunts and thuds as they met their target and, within seconds, the war cries of both Seneca and Huron.
The need for stealth behind her, Gandewitha hurried forward, cautiously but determinedly, knowing the battle was underway. Why the Huron and the Seneca were perpetual enemies was a question for another time, another place. It just was, a fact of life they accepted and dealt with as necessary.
Right at this moment, all Gandewitha could think of was Nohnohsot, in the thick of the fight.
She picked her way toward the sounds, realizing that they were now engaged in a full…out fight. Arrows worked from a distance, but once the element of surprise was lost, it became a trial of strength and skill.
Nohnohsot was strong and skillful. But would it be enough?
As she cleared a patch of bushes, Gandewitha gasped at the sight before her. There were many, many Huron, more than she guessed the Seneca had expected.
Several Huron bodies lay behind the fight, arrows marking their passage from this world to the next. There were grunts and cries and the solid thud of flesh against flesh, punctuated by the groans as knives sank past the delicate skin into sinew and beyond.
Blood was flowing, the fight was fierce, and yet she was struck by the silence in which these two mortal enemies engaged each other.
Notching an arrow into her bow, Gandewitha stepped forward and loosed it at a target—a Huron hurrying to assist a fellow barely holding his own against a Seneca brave.
She barely had chance to see him fall before another Huron came from the forest, and another—they were everywhere it seemed.
