Everlasting

by Iris Johansen

  He nodded and followed her noiselessly as she turned and made her way swiftly through the twisting passageway.

  The lights of the Mercedes splayed out over the countryside, picking up the blue-and-silver gleam of the helicopter in the meadow to the right of the dirt road on which they were traveling. A small Porsche was parked beside it and its doors sud­denly opened as the Mercedes came to a halt. Two men emerged.

  Kira's heart gave a little jerk as Marna was helped from the car by the man who had gotten out of the backseat. She was safe! She didn't realize how tense she'd been until she saw Mama's big frame silhouetted against the headlights.

  Zack's gaze was on her face. "I told you she would be safe."

  "I know, but it seemed impossible that every­thing could go so smoothly," she said, blinking back the sudden tears. "It wasn't that I didn't trust you."

  His hand tightened around her wrist. "Thank you for saying that. It means a great deal to me." He opened the door. "Let's get this little odyssey under way, shall we? Even if we're destined to spend the next day or so in Tamrovia, I'll feel better once we get out of the city." He helped Kira out of the car and turned to Marna. "Have you changed your mind about letting us go straight through to Switzerland tonight, Marna?" "No," Marna said serenely. "Switzerland has been there for a long, long time. I trust it will still be there tomorrow."

  He shook his head. "I was afraid of this. Get into the helicopter, ladies. I have a few instructions to give my men before we leave." He joined them a few minutes later, carefully, storing a small metal suitcase in the back of the helicopter. The taillights of the cars were disap­pearing down the road and the meadow was very dark and eerily silent.

  "You're going to fly it yourself? I thought you were going to have a pilot put us down and then come back for us."

  He shook his head. "I don't like the idea of being stranded with no transportation in case things don't proceed as smoothly as Marna thinks they will."

  "Perhaps I should fly it? I know Tamrovia terrain better than you do, and I'm quite a good pilot."

  "I'm sure you are, but I need something to do." He sat down in the pilot's seat and passed Marna a navigation map. "I'd appreciate it if you'd try to designate our landing site on the map. It will be easier than hit-or-miss."

  "Certainly." Marna opened the map and her index finger went unhesitatingly to a point on the map. "Does that help?"

  Zack's lips were twitching as he turned on the ignition. "It helps. Tell me, did you actually read the map or did you divine it?"

  "What difference does it make?"

  "No difference. I was just curious." The rotors were whirring loudly and he had to raise his voice to be heard. "I'd set it down there regardless."

  "Of course you would. Why should you do any­thing else? We've already determined that you're not a chitka."

  A low, amused laugh was Zack's only answer as the helicopter ponderously lifted off, turned in a ninety-degree circle, and headed north.

  Six

  Zack turned off the ignition, reached for the utility lantern/flashlight on the floor beside him, then opened the door of the helicopter. "Your charming sylvan glade seems deserted."

  "It won't be for long," Marna said serenely. "They know we're coming."

  I won't ask how." Zack had come around and opened the passenger door. He lifted first Marna and then Kira to the grass. "But I would like to

  inquire who you think will be comin—"

  "Marna!" A giant of a man stepped out of the darkness into the circle of light from the flashlight.

  "We knew those chitkas couldn't hold you." A scowl deepened the lines of the man's rough-hewn features. "But you took your time about breaking free of them. We were wondering when you would

  come back to us."

  "Paulo." There was deep affection in Mama's murmur as she hugged the large man. She turned to Zack. "You remember my brother Paulo."

  "I remember," Zack said. He smiled warmly at Paulo as he shook the man's gigantic paw. Paulo Debuk had changed very little over the years. His dark, full beard was peppered with gray now, but his big-boned body was still as lithe and powerful as Zack remembered it from years ago. He was dressed in scuffed boots, an old suede vest, a tat­tered full-sleeved tan shirt, and rough denim trou­sers, and he wore this shabby apparel with an air of careless majesty that even Stefan would have envied. "We used to hunt these hills together," Zack said. "Is hunting still such a passion with you, Paulo?"

  "Now more than ever," Paulo said, smiling in an odd way. "The hills are full of strange and interest­ing prey these days. It's quite a challenge to stalk it, but as yet I haven't bothered to bring any home."

  Zack's eyes narrowed on Paulo's bearded face. "Sounds intriguing. I wish I had time to join you." Paulo suddenly laughed. "No, you'll be too busy with the little one to hunt with me on this visit." He turned to Kira and enveloped her in a bear hug, whirling her in a circle. "How are you, Kira? You bagged big game yourself, eh?"

  "Has anyone ever told you about women's libera­tion?" Kira asked tartly. "I never could persuade you to take me hunting."

  "It was not because you were a female," he pro­tested as he set her on her feet. "To hunt, one must have the proper instincts. If I had taken you with me, all you would have done was snap pretty pictures."

  "And Zack has the right instincts, I suppose?"

  Paulo looked at Zack over Kira's head. "Yes, he has the instincts. He knows when to kill, when to capture, and when to set free. It's in the blood." He turned back to Marna. "I will take Zack to the saldana to spend the night. You and Kira go back to the encampment. We will speak of the mondava in the morning."

  "We need to camouflage the helicopter before daybreak," Zack said. "And I have a shortwave radio to keep in contact with my people in Belajo. I want to bring that with me to the camp."

  Paulo nodded. "I'll send someone to pick it up tomorrow before dawn. I'll put a guard on the heli­copter tonight."

  A guard? They probably don't even know Mama's escaped yet."

  Paulo shrugged. "It doesn't hurt to be cautious." He ruffled Kira's hair playfully. "Run along with Marna, little one. We'll take care of everything from

  now on. You don't have to be afraid."

  "I'm not afraid." Kira's hands clenched into fists at her sides in frustration. "And I may be little, but I'm not a child."

  Paulo's laughter boomed out. "We are all chil­dren. Some only more so than others." He tugged teasingly at a lock of her auburn hair. "Enjoy your

  chiildhood, Kira."

  "No," Zack said quietly. "We're not being fair." He took a step closer to her and his eyes were deep and soft in the lantern light. "I know all this is confusing and annoying to you. I promise it won't continue to be that way for very much longer. I'll try to explain it all to you tomorrow. Okay?"

  She felt the now familiar melting sensation attack her muscles and cause her breathing to quicken. "Okay."

  The tip of his index finger touched her cheek in the lightest of caresses. "You're being very patient with us."

  "I never even knew I possessed an iota of patience until the last few days. I'm learning new things all the time about my inner resources." She turned to Marna. "Shall we go on to the camp? Evi­dently I've just been told to run along and play in the sandbox again."

  Marna smiled. "It is best. You will see. Come on, the camp is through that grove of poplars."

  Kira lifted her hand resignedly in farewell to Zack and Paulo, and muttered "Good night" before falling into step with Marna.

  Zack's gaze followed her as she swiftly strode with Marna toward the grove. When her figure was lost to him in the shadowy darkness of the trees, he turned toward Paulo.

  "A time to capture and a time to set free," Paulo reminded him softly.

  Zack clapped him on the shoulder. "I know, my friend, but in this particular instance my priorities are confused. My hunting instincts are being sub­limated by the mating instinct. I'll be damned glad when all this is ove
r."

  "It is important to Marna. She has planned this for a long time." Paulo waved his hand. "It's only one more night. I have an excellent brandy at the saldana. Maybe we'll get drunk and you'll forget about little Kira for the night."

  "It's worth a try," Zack said. He was willing to try anything to avoid another night like the last one he'd spent. He seemed to be in a permanent state of arousal these days, and he had only to look at Kira to have that arousal sharpen to an aching feverish-ness. "By all means, lead on to the saldana."

  The crisp fallen leaves crunched under Kira's suede boots and she could see her breath form misty clouds as she walked beside Marna through the grove. The stars looked different here in the woods than they had from the terrace. Had it been only a few hours since she'd stood on the terrace at the palace? she wondered. She felt shocked because that scene seemed to belong to a different century and certainly to a different world.

  "What is a saldana?" she asked suddenly.

  "It is a place apart," Marna said. "When there is a need, one of the caravans is pulled a short distance from the rest of the camp to insure complete privacy."

  "A need?"

  "Grief or a soul search or a mondava." She paused. "You will be with Zack at the saldana tomorrow night."

  Kira swallowed. "I will? How nice of you to tell me."

  Mama's eyes were suddenly probing. "You have promised to belong to him. Is that not so?"

  "Yes."

  "It is not against your will? You wish to be in his bed?"

  "No, it's not against my will, and yes, I wish to be in his bed.*' Heaven knew that was the truth. She was so acutely aware of him, just the light touch of his finger on her cheek had caused a ripple of desire to invade every secret part of her.

  "Then that's all that is important. The under­standing will come in time," Marna said. "It is all part of the mondava."

  "Are you going to tell me what this mondava is?" Kira asked dryly. "Evidently I figure in it promi­nently and I appear to be the only one around here who is ignorant about it."

  "You don't know? I thought Zack would tell you." Marna smiled wryly. "No, I thought he would show you."

  "He was just as closemouthed as you were," Kira said.

  Marna frowned. "You must not go into it without knowledge. I did not mean for that to happen."

  "Zack said it meant the 'forever bonding' or 'ever­lasting bonding' in your dialect."

  "Everlasting," Marna said softly. "Yes, that is what it means. It is the coming together. The seal­ing of two souls who have been parted. There is a proper time for all things, and when the time is right there comes the mondava." Her glance met Kira's. "Not only the souls are united but also the bodies. Sometimes the merging does not come at one and the same time, but then one always follows the other. You must not worry if Zack seems to for­get the soul for the body. The other will come."

  "Will it?" Kira drew a deep, shaky breath.

  "Marna, for heaven's sake, how do you know? Zack may only be aware of the physical aspect of the mondava. I offered myself to him on a silver platter to get you out of Tamrovia. He may think the mondava is something like the gestures of hospi­tality some primitive people made in offering their women to visiting men. Remember, he only spent a short time with your tribe and may not fully under­stand the mondava." Marna shook her head. "He understands." "Marna . . ."It was no use. Kira could tell by the set of Mama's jaw that she had made up her mind and no amount of arguing was going to change it. She was obviously convinced Zack was the only mate for Kira and was proceeding to effect the anion in her own unique, inexorable fashion. She wouldn't even consider the possibility that Zack might not be ready to commit himself to anything but a physical relationship.

  But Kira's argument was valid, dammit, even if Marna wouldn't admit it. Zack had certainly been quick enough to reject the possibility of marriage to her, she remembered with a pang. Their rela­tionship had deepened and grown enormously in the short time they had known each other, but it didn't mean Zack had changed his mind. Evi­dently this ritual Marna was arranging was equiva­lent to a tribal marriage ceremony. Legal or not, Zack had an innate respect for tribal rituals and would regard this one as binding. Oh, Lord, she hadn't meant to trap him. And there was no doubt that the desire tormenting them both was the bait for the trap. She couldn't let such a thing happen to Zack. "When is this ceremony?" she asked suddenly.

  "Tomorrow at nightfall," Marna said. "We will spend the day preparing you." She paused. "Of course the mondava also signals the end of child­hood for a woman and the beginning of maturity."

  Ah, Kifa thought, now she understood why Marna had been so melancholy last night. She believed Kira would give herself totally to Zack and forsake all those she'd loved before.

  "We're going to have to talk about your feelings. Marna," Kira said gently. "Yes, we need to talk about a good many things other than memories."

  "The mondava," Marna said flatly.

  "In a manner of speaking. About maturity, any­way. It will wait, though. You've already given me too much to think about right now."

  "It will all come clear. Tomorrow night at the mondava."

  "Kira."

  It was Zack's whisper.

  She woke instantly from the light sleep intc which she'd fallen only a few hours before. She lifted her head from the pillow and saw Zack's dark silhouette framed against the pearly gray light of predawn coming through the opening at the front of the wagon. Kira cast a glance at the large form on the mattress next to her own. Marna hadn't stirred at Zack's low call.

  Kira threw off the blanket and came swiftly to her knees on the pallet. She searched in the shad-ows of the caravan until she found her jacket and suede boots, and then crawled quickly to the front of the wagon.

  Zack lifted her from the seat to the ground with careful and soundless strength. "I'm glad I finally found you. I think I peered into every wagon in camp. Put on your boots." He waited while she pulled them on. It wasn't nearly as cold as it had been last night, even though she noticed that the huge campfire, which was the heart of the ring of caravans surrounding it, had burned down to gray ashes and flickering embers.

  There was a touch of impatience in Zack's face as he took her hand. "Come on, let's get the hell out of here." His voice was almost rough and it slightly startled her. She had never seen Zack impatient or rough. She gazed at him bemusedly as he pulled her away from the camp and through the woods. Then they were climbing a hill with a speed that made her legs ache a little by the time they reached the summit.

  The sun had not yet risen and within the cluster If trees at the crest of the hill his face was still shadowed and unreadable as she faced him. Zack? What is it? Is something wrong?"

  "Dear heaven, yes, something is wrong," he said in a husky tone of voice. His arms enfolded her

  with a crushing power that took her breath away. If there had been any left to take away. When she'd been brought with passionate violence against Zack's bold arousal, she'd lost both composure and breath in one swoop. "This is what's wrong." His hands moved down to cup her buttocks and bring her closer still. His hips began to move against her in a slow, undulating movement that was mindlessly primitive. "I can't take it anymore. I thought I could last until Mama's damn ceremony tonight, but I can't do it. It's been too long already and I'm hurting." His breath was coming in harsh gasps as his hands clenched on her soft, rounded flesh. "I tried everything last night. I counted a million damn sheep. I kept Paulo up half the night telling stories until he dozed off. I even tried to get drunk." His laugh held an edge of desperation. "Indians are supposed to be susceptible to firewa­ter, but it didn't faze me." His eyes closed and his hands splayed out with a tactile yearning, rubbing and smoothing gently. "Maybe I was high already."

  She certainly was, she realized. She was dizzy and helpless from the sensations he was engen­dering with every touch. She could detect the faint scent of musk and soap and brandy that clung to his body. She had been a little chilly
before, but she was burning up now. Her breath was coming in lit­tle gasps, as if she were being touched rhythmi­cally by an electric charger. "Zack ..."

  His eyes opened and he glared down at her with an intensity that stopped the words in her throat. "Say it, dammit."

  She gazed up at him in bewilderment. "Say what?"

  "Say yes. Say I can have you. Right now, with no more of this god-awful waiting. Say that I can stop hurting."

  He was hurting. She could see the agony that tautened his features and caused the skin to tighten over his cheekbones. And she could help him. The knowledge sent a flowing warmth through her to temper with pure joy the white-hot passion she was experiencing. She could stop his hurting, take away the hunger born of pain and bring him pleasure, then peace. "Oh, yes, Zack," she said softly. "Please. Now."

  His breath was released in a little explosion. "Thank heaven! I know I'm being a bast—" He broke off. "I'll try to make up for it later." He was drawing her closer with trembling arms. "Just come here and let me love you, Kira. Just let me love you."

  His hands were at the belt of her jeans; his attempt at unfastening them was oddly clumsy. The zipper made a soft, silky hiss as it slid down. His hands slipped beneath denim and silk to touch her, sending ripples of shock through her system. His palms were cold, but her own body heat quickly transferred warmth to them.

  His nails raked lightly over the curve of her buttocks before moving around to caress the smoothness of her belly with hands shaking with eagerness. "Soft. Lord, you're so soft and sweet. I want to—" His hand moved down to the apex of her thighs and he touched her with a gentleness at odds with the roughness that had preceded it. "I haven't seen you here," he said hoarsely. "When I was lying on that mattress last night, I could imag­ine every other part of you, because I'd seen how beautiful you were at the lodge." His fingers found the place they were seeking.