by Lynde Lakes
Hugh perked his alpha ears, listening, as his nerves jumped under his skin. He couldn’t let Skully escape. Thank God Tigra was safe. If necessary, he could die happy knowing she and Madam Mystic were out of harm’s way. Skully had already killed an unknown number of innocent people. Hugh’s heart thundered in his ears. He drew up an image of Tigra in her little strips of fake fur. The memory of their last kiss twisted his heart. In that moment, he had forgotten everything but how much he wanted her—the texture of her lips as familiar as his own, and the taste of her rushing through him with the force of a descending roller coaster, the downward thrust threatening to sweep him away on plunging passion.
Since joining the circus and meeting Tigra he’d learned he didn’t need the perfect, tidy package of life to be happy, and he no longer cared about finding the ideal homemaker or the problem presented by their mixed species. If he ever got the chance, he’d work with her to solve the species problem and they would have the rest of their lives to love and make love. His thoughts forced heat to pool low in his belly. Dammit. Tension charged his nerve endings. If...no, when he had his fiery-haired, hot blooded Tigra in his arms again, there would be no holding back. And she would be in his arms again.
Hugh wiped the sweat from his brow with his hairy arm. There were many places for Skully to lie in waiting and spring out at him. The tunnels ranged from six to twelve feet wide with eighteen to twenty-four foot ceilings and twisted around in a tangled maze. There could even be tunnels with dead ends where he’d be more vulnerable. But so would Skully.
Something sharp dug into his right rear paw. He looked down and, with his powerful eyesight, he recognized the white powder with chunks of ivory pebbles under the soft pad of his foot. It was crumbling human bones, the thin outer layer disintegrating into a powdery dust. If he were attacked and died now, his bones would appear mixed, half human, half beast. He didn’t dare close his eyes…he had to remain ever alert…so he prayed with his eyes open. Lord, when my time comes, let me die a man in every sense of the word.
****
With effort, Tigra squelched a shiver. Show no fear! She pressed tightly against the wall as she inched forward. Her heart pounded in her ears like ancient war drums. The musty, mildew odor of death grew stronger and almost gagged her. Why hadn’t she caught up with Hugh? Had Skully killed him? No, God, no.
She heard a whoosh of air as a grasping hand shot out of the darkness and fingers clamped around her throat. A white, vivid face loomed out of the shadows.
“Did you think I’d left you?” Skully whispered. He squeezed tighter, cutting off her air and making it impossible to clamp her sharp tiger fangs on his juggler. She tightened her hold on her stake-shaped stone. Struggling, she met his gaze. His eyes were red and glowing like hot coals. Fighting queasiness from what she was about to do, she jabbed him in the fiery eyes with the stony weapon. Blood and fire spurted from the corners and he screamed in agony. As the sound echoed through the tunnel, he loosened his hold and she whirled away and crouched in readiness for the next attack.
“I didn’t want to take you by violent force, my little ferocious tiger bitch,” he whispered in a curse-like tone as his gaze locked on her throat. “I wanted to enjoy a slower dance with you, but once again, you have forced my hand. I suggest you make it less painful for you and more pleasant for both of us and give in.” His icy breath feathered over her face. “I’m bigger, quicker, smarter and I always win.”
His gaze intensified as though he were using his strongest hypnotic power. God, don’t let me succumb to this monster.
Tigra heard a hollow thud, and Skully fell forward. With her sharp eyesight she saw Hugh had a huge boulder in his clawed hand. Skully shook his head as though to clear it and somersaulted to his feet. The arch enemies pounded each other while trying to clamp their fangs on one another’s necks. The power of their blows and the open mouthed attempts to close their teeth on soft flesh guaranteed this would be a bloody fight to the death.
Hugh shouted, “Get out of here, Tigra.”
“I won’t leave you!” She stepped closer to the warring feral creatures of the night, but couldn’t get close enough to jab Skully again with her stone. She stuffed the stone into her pocket and picked up a bowling ball-sized boulder. Lifting it high over her head, she aimed carefully and brought the boulder down with all of her might toward Skully’s head.
The half animal, half men rolled and shifted positions. The boulder missed Hugh’s temple by a fraction of an inch.
“Damn it, Tigra! Whose side are you on?”
Tigra’s stomach knotted. Her heart thundered. She could scarcely breathe. Dear, God, I could have killed Hugh. I’m only making things worse. When she turned to go, Skully reached out and yanked her feet out from under her.
She screamed and fell to her knees. Skully grabbed a handful of her hair close to the roots and yanked her between himself and Hugh. He bit into her throat. She struggled. Warm blood slid down from the concave of her throat into her cleavage.
“Let her go!” Hugh said, his voice hoarse.
“Never. She’s mine for all eternity.”
With an expression that revealed nothing, Hugh stared at the blood trickling down her neck.
“Don’t give him the upper hand, Hugh,” she managed to choke out. “You can’t save me. It’s—”
Unable to say more past the constriction, she tried to reach her pocket where the stone waited to be put back into action. Skully’s icy hold on her intensified, while his piercing eyes remained on Hugh, as though calculating his next move.
Distracted, probably by the idea he had won, he loosened his hold slightly…just enough for her to break loose.
When Skully tried to grab her again, Hugh tackled him. They scuffed and Skully fell backwards against the stone wall. With all the courage she could gather, she rushed toward him and stabbed her stake-shaped rock into his neck, followed by clamping her teeth onto his throat. Almost in unison, Hugh charged forward and locked onto the opposite side of Skully’s neck. They sank their fangs deep into the soft tissue, extracting mouths full of flesh, blood, and muscle. Skully pulled back and, as two chunks of halblar blue flesh tore free, a fine mist of blood fell from his organs and settled on the stony floor. She glared at the blood oozing from him and thought, For all the innocent women you murdered and for the sake of the circus.
He staggered toward them as though determined to fight on. They charged him again, and this time their mouths closed on the vampire’s neck in a unison dual death grips.
Skully’s horrifying screams were much like Rolo’s and although both would haunt her nightmares forever, the soulless vampire had earned his agony. He had attacked the innocent merely for his own malicious pleasure and to satisfy his devilish hunger for blood and flesh.
When Skully’s cries faded and he went limp, Hugh drew her away from the motionless parasite and brought her firmly to his warm solid chest, holding her desperately like a man who’d almost lost the person who gave meaning to his life. Experiencing similar rushing emotions, she clutched at him like a drowning woman, breathing hard and feeling contaminated by the acidy taste of the vampire’s blood and the horror of what they’d felt compelled to do.
Abruptly, Hugh pulled back. “Let’s make sure this demon never rises again.”
Stones crunched and a beam of light flashed on them. Flinching, their gazes darted to the opening into the section of the tunnel where the dreadful fight to the death had occurred.
“Amen to that,” Madam Mystic said, her wide eyes revealing horror at the bloody sight while her breathy tone revealed relief.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Hugh asked. Deep furrows formed above the bridge of his nose and his eyes glinted brightly.
The unexpected twist had left Tigra momentarily speechless and concerned about the ramifications of the mystic walking in on the bloodbath.
“I had to come back to help,” the mystic said, her gaze taking in the oozing bites and claw marks that co
vered their bodies. “You two risked your lives to save me. Being a woman familiar with voodoo and demons, I’ve always been terrified of my own shadow and taken the path of least resistance. But after you two blessed me with your unfailing courage, I’m not willing to ever be a coward again.” She handed Tigra a silver cross. “I didn’t return quickly enough to help take Skully down, but maybe this cross, once blessed by the Pope, will keep him down.”
Tigra hugged, Madam Mystic. “Thank you. And for insurance, I want to try everything any of us have ever heard. I don’t want the Aptrgangr,” she said, meeting Madam Mystic’s gaze, “one who lingers after death in the form of the malevolent dead, to ever rise again.”
Madam Mystic touched her hand to her chin. “None of us want that, my dear. In addition to burying him with the cross, the methods I’ve heard are burning the vampire’s heart, pouring an ancient iron element over his corpse, and stabbing him with a sword made of yew wood.”
“Really?” Tigra asked, horrified yet fascinated. “I also heard he can be killed by bullets filled with liquid silver nitrate.”
Hugh snorted. “Do either of you have any of those things or a gun with silver nitrate bullets on you?”
Tigra felt the heat rush to her cheeks as she and Madam Mystic shook their heads.
“Don’t look so disheartened ladies,” Hugh said. “We have options. From my experience, I think if we lay him upside down, burn him to ashes, and then throw the silver cross on top of the ashes it will destroy him forever.”
Madam Mystic drew a bag from her pocket and sprinkled a few cactus thorns into her palm. “I picked these from a yard on the main street on my way here.”
Hugh glanced up at the ceiling of the cave. “Why?” he asked with what sounded like forced patience in his tone.
“Because one other viable suggestion to destroy a demon, evil spirit, or a vampire for all eternity is to surround the grave site with thorns and move a boulder on top directly above the spot where the vampire’s ashes lay.”
Hugh’s mouth twitched as if he were holding back a chuckle.
“Okay, those steps are doable. Now let’s get busy. Find a sharp branch or stone and start digging this monster’s grave before someone else comes along.” Hugh glanced at Madam Mystic. “No one followed you, did they?”
Fear glinted in her dark eyes for a moment, and then she slid her hands down her black, loose-fitting culottes. “No, I wore dark clothes and stayed in the shadows. That should be good enough, shouldn’t it?”
Tigra prayed it was. More witnesses could bring the kind of trouble that would land them all in the electric chair.
Chapter Twenty-Three
With the three of them digging, it didn’t take long to dig a shallow grave. Tigra and Madam Mystic gathered kindling and then with a silent prayer, Tigra watched Hugh as he laid the vampire upside down and used a flaming torch to set him on fire.
“Being a part of this ritual goes against my soul,” she said softly.
“Mine, too,” Hugh whispered, “but leaving this monster free to kill again is unthinkable.”
“It will be all right,” Madam Mystic said, touching Tigra’s shoulder. “I’ll call on the spirits to protect us.”
A chill slipped down Tigra’s arms as Madam Mystic softly sang an eerie voodoo chant.
Edgy emotions ricocheted around the cave walls as the flames slowly turned the body to ashes. With gazes fixed on the small pit, they sat stiffly and silently in a circle. The cremating process took an eternity. The choking smell of burning flesh, musty decay, and burning wood filled their section of the cave.
“I’d suggest you go to the cave entrance to breathe in some fresh air,” Hugh said, “but separating is too dangerous. Are you ladies going to be all right?”
They both nodded.
When the coals finally lost their glow, Tigra took a shuddering breath and tossed her silver cross on top of the gray ash. The rocky earth began to quake and Hugh grabbed her and drew her into the warmth of his strong arms. Sheltered and protected, she watched in fascination as the dregs of smoke soared upward, hopefully carrying the vampire’s curse away.
After the smoke cleared, they sat a few moments as though hypnotized.
Tigra flinched when suddenly Hugh pushed her away and sprang to his feet. His stance was alert, coiled as though wary. “We’re not finished,” he whispered and then he thoroughly covered the ashes with dirt and stones.
Dancing and chanting, Madam Mystic scattered the parameter of the grave-site with thorns. When she completed her procedure, the three of them worked together to roll a boulder over the grave-site directly above the spot where the vampire’s ashes lay.
Tigra bowed her head and said softly, “Please, Lord, forgive us for this hedonistic ritual. We’ve agreed to accept our part in sending this vampire back to hell for all eternity for the sake all those who have fallen at this demon’s hand and those who might have fallen in the future had we failed.”
“Amen,” Hugh and Madam Mystic said.
****
With heavy hearts, they silently escorted Madam Mystic to her caravan. Teary eyed, Tigra hugged the psychic. When Hugh hugged the psychic as well, Tigra felt her warm connection to her wolfman deepen.
“It is agreed,” Tigra said in a choked voice. “None of us will ever speak of this night again.”
“Agreed,” the psychic said.
Tigra shivered, moved beyond further words. The three of them had accepted a pact that undoubtedly would change them forever.
****
Minutes later, inside Tigra’s caravan she studied Hugh’s injuries. “Those gouges and bites are deep, and maybe infected. Let me take you to the ER.”
Hugh laughed without humor. “You know with our duality that’s impossible.”
She sighed. He was right, of course.
He winked. “Besides, I prefer your gentle touch.”
Apparently he wasn’t too injured to play. “Okay, then,” she said. “We are covered in cave dirt and your wounds are numerous and wide spread, so the most efficient and sanitary way to bathe them would be in the shower.”
“You’re wounded, too. So for expediency and to save water, I insist we shower together.”
She laughed, took his hand, and drew him toward the glass enclosure. When she turned to get the antibiotics, he began to strip. Seeing his impressive phallic symbol pulsing and the glint in his eyes, she placed the antibiotics on the sink counter and slipped out of her clothing.
When she stood naked before him, she smiled, slowly taking in everything about Hugh, from the top of his dark hair to his well-formed thighs. She found it difficult to breathe. She’d seen him naked before, but that was prior to falling in love with him. Good heavens, he was the epitome of the perfect man. He was, trim, long-muscled, and impressive. Nothing about Hugh looked soft, except the expression in his eyes. That’s what got to her; the love she saw there. Not just passion, but love.
She reached past him, turned on the shower, clasped his hand and drew him with her into the warm, pelting, cleansing waters. Steam swirled around them, wrapping their glistening bodies in enchanting vapors.
Worried about his injuries, she fought her desire and gently cleansed his wounds with a soft cloth. She felt his eyes devouring her.
When she finished, he said, “My turn to bathe your wounds.”
“Believe me,” she said with desire racing through her veins, “right now that’s not a good idea.”
“Sure it is. We can’t let your wounds get infected.”
When he reached for her, she ducked away, lost her balance, swayed, and braced herself against his firm, bare chest. As though her hands had a mind of their own, she smoothed his moist, steel-like abs.
Searing heat shot between them. She felt his heart pounding as hard as hers.
He gazed down at her. She moaned as he slid his index finger from her left breast to her lower belly. “I love the way the shadows emphasize your curves,” he whispered into her ear.
Hugh’s lips claimed hers and he drew her closer. His hand skimmed down her side and explored her wet body, while hot water rained down on them. He pinned her between the shower wall and his own body. Tigra wound her arms around his neck and arched into him, seeking all the contact he wanted to give. He cupped the swell of her breasts and his tongue delighted her nipples with sweet torment. She gasped at the feel of his strong arousal, pressing urgently against her belly.
She closed her hand over his shaft, massaging him, discovering him. His grateful moans heightened her excitement. But it wasn’t just the passion raging between them that eased her heartaches. It was love. She’d found a man she could love completely—trust completely. And they were bound together for eternity by the ritual they’d just performed in the cave. She accidentally bumped one of his deep gashes and he flinched. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. Until your wounds are healed, this is insanity. We’d better get out and let me smooth antibiotics on those bites,” she said past the constriction in her throat.
“Only if you allow me to return the favor,” he said.
“Can I trust there won’t be any more monkey business tonight?”
He chuckled. “After what just happened in the shower, probably not.”
Oh, God, his touch is always so arousing; but I’ll have to grit my teeth and bare it. Releasing my tiger love must be postponed until we’re healed and in better shape.
After they’d toweled off, she gently smeared antibiotics on Hugh while saying her ABC’s backwards.
When she finished doctoring him, she said, “I’ll spread healing salve on myself, but it’ll be a big help if you’ll lower my bed from the wall.” She didn’t dare let him touch her again tonight.
“Of course. And I insist you invite me to stay the night. I need to be near you until I check the cave again tomorrow and verify the ritual was a success.”
She laughed. “Crafty way to wrangle an invitation. But don’t stray from your side of the bed. We just proved neither of us has been rendered harmless, but I don’t think either of us is up to a romp.”
