“What?”
“I assure you, the grand theft auto was necessary. She saved my life. And Thorn’s. For the moment, I believe we should steer clear of the law until you straighten everything out.”
“Just how the hell am I supposed to do that?”
“Listen carefully, and I will tell you.”
After Oscar explained, he took the lantern from Blood’s pack. He led Thorn and Sally to the pantry doors that hid the cellar stairs. “There’s really treasure down there?” Sally asked.
“Not so much anymore. Come.”
In the cellar, the great steel doors still stood open. They no longer held their strange, obscuring magic. Oscar shined the lantern down into the ancient chamber below. The sound of dripping water echoed, and a sulfurous odor emerged.
Sally gave the crude stares a doubtful look. “I’ll just take your word for it.”
“We need to look before the law perform a search. After all, you own this, Sally. As do you, Thorn.”
The lumberjack angled his head at Oscar. “Me?”
“In order for our story to hold up, yes. The two of you are related. So of course Elathan Blood had to come after you both.” Oscar handed Sally the lantern and brought up the flashlight function on his cell phone. Thorn did as well. The three of them descended.
Sally stopped short on the last step. “Um, it’s all wet down here. I’m not wearing shoes.”
“Hold the lantern high,” Oscar said.
He and Thorn waded through the few inches of water on the floor. Inspecting closely with the lights, Oscar realized that the room was a rough octagon, the walls slanting upward, closer at the bottom than at the top. Each wall boasted an alcove. “This place is so strange.”
“Why would anyone build this?” Sally said from the stairs. “It doesn’t look very functional. Everything is just kinda big.”
Oscar moved to a toppled chest that had been smashed on the floor. After a cursory search through the debris, he came up with a gold coin. It looked like the one Blood had thrown in anger. He flipped it over to Sally. “You studied archaeology. Do you recognize this?”
She gazed at the hunk of metal. “I think it’s a Lydian stater. It’s old, really old. So is that pottery.”
Oscar directed his cell phone light where Sally directed. The shards of a large pot lay against a wall. Geometric designs and animal figures decorated the outside.
“I’m pretty sure that’s Mesopotamian,” Sally said. “Thousands of years old.”
“What the hell is this stuff doing down here?” Thorn asked. “You’d think it would be on display, not buried.”
Sally asked, “Do we let the cops see it?”
Oscar nodded. “Of course. It gives Blood his motive—money. If you were imprisoned, he could remove this treasure at his leisure.”
“But what does this have to do with killing Thorn?”
Each of the alcoves had something within—a broken chest, crumbling furniture or pottery—save one. His light fell on the one alcove that held nothing. Oscar wondered what had been in here, if this was what Blood was truly after. “That’s the beauty of it. We let the police decide the story. They will have Blood in custody, the suspect, although it’s doubtful he’ll speak. They will have the texts, the fingerprints, on the phone, which will serve as the MO. They will have this room, which will serve as motive. How they put it together? Who knows with cops?”
“The important thing is that the son-of-a-bitch is in jail,” Thorn said.
Oscar shook his head. “No. The important thing is that Sally is free, and all of us are safe.” Although he thought it, he did not say: “For now.”
He ignored Sally as she looked a question at him. His cell phone dinged—a text. After reading it over, Oscar started for the stairs. “The police will be here very soon. We need to make ourselves scarce for the time being.”
Thorn followed after him. “Where are we going?”
Oscar shrugged. “You? I have no idea. For Sally and myself, I have an account at a hotel downtown.”
“Kinda presumptuous of you,” Sally said. “Especially after you left me to starve to death in the cold.”
“Ah, allow me to warm you, for all the rest of your days, cariña.”
Thorn walked up the stairs. “You guys are making me sick.”
“Let us depart to a love nest to await your true freedom,” Oscar offered his arm.
“Hello?” Sally made an up-and-down gesture. “Naked? No shoes? How am I supposed to go anywhere?”
“My rental’s at the gas station. Meet me at the pick-your-own-fruit lot, and I’ll drop you somewhere you can catch a cab,” Oscar said.
“I can’t walk through the woods. I don’t have any shoes.”
Thorn stared at her a moment. He shook his head and walked up the stairs. “You explain it to her, León.”
“Explain what?” Sally asked. Then her eyes opened wide. “Oh. I could just shift into the bear. Duh.”
Oscar grabbed her and kissed her. “There is so much I want to teach you.”
“I do okay on my own. I saved your sorry ass.” Sally suppressed a smile.
Oscar did not. “So perhaps there is much I can learn from you, my love. I have just the place to get started.”
“By ‘get started,’ do you mean sex?”
“Lots and lots.”
Sally shivered in the oversized coat. “Oo. Then what are we waiting for?” She slipped out of the trench coat and buttoned the sleeves together. Once it was over her neck, she transformed into ursine shape and padded up the stairs. Oscar had to marvel at the ease of her shifting. Sally was definitely getting the hang of it.
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Chapter Twenty-Nine
The remains of a room service breakfast still lay scattered across the bedspread. Oscar and Sally sat propped up in bed, his arm around her, as they sipped coffee.
“I’m having fun being naked with you, but I’m eventually going to have to score some clothes.”
“Hopefully, eventually is some days away,” Oscar said. “Ah, here we are.”
He grabbed the remote and turned up the television as the morning news came on. “It seems we are the top story.”
“We have breaking news about a Ripple woman accused of murder and a fugitive from justice. County Sheriff’s detectives report an arrest in the case—but not an arrest they suspected. Dave Jenner is at the courthouse.”
“Thanks, Brittney. We’ve been following this story at K2 news, but we never expected it to turn into such a wild tale. A woman accused of murder and attempted murder and fleeing justice has been cleared of all charges. The supposed victim of murderer is actually alive. A man in custody has been linked to several acts of theft and vandalism around the small village of Ripple. And the motive? Buried treasure.”
“Ohmigod, not that horrible picture! I have to take that down,” Sally burst out as the horrible Instagram photo appeared.
“I think it’s adorable,” Oscar said. “I think I started falling in love with you the first time I saw it. Felicity texted it to me before we met.”
“You fell in love with that picture?”
“No, I fell in love with this woman.” Oscar kissed her.
“We have a suspect in custody we feel strongly about.” Detective Monroe stood before a podium at a press conference. “Evidence points to him framing our prior suspect, as well as living beneath an abandoned house she owned.”
Someone shouted a question.
“Yes, we found a few objects of value in a hidden room beneath the house. I won’t comment beyond that.”
The reporter appeared on camera. “Sources inside the Sheriff’s Department said that the suspect remains unidentified, but is likely a homeless man and suffering from mental illness. A recent explosion in the area occurred close to the treasure house, but the sheriff had no comment at this time.”
“Treasure house? How am I going to keep people out of there?” S
ally said.
Oscar was preoccupied by a separate thought. “An unidentified homeless man suffering from mental illness. ¡Pollas en vinagre! That is more accurate than they know.”
“Attorney for the initial suspect, Iwalani Johnson, was key to locating the suspect now in custody,” Dave Jenner intoned.
“There was no doubt as to her innocence. She’s a businesswoman, an upstanding member of the community, and incapable of committing a violent act against a man who was both a customer and a distant relative,” Iwalani told the reporter. “We sought to draw him out with a false report of Thorn’s death, and that attempt was successful. I’m certain the sheriff’s investigators will find the evidence to convict.”
On the nightstand, the two coins Oscar recovered from the secret chamber gleamed. Sally picked up the thick, uneven pieces. “These are worth quite a bit. Hopefully I can cover Iwalani’s bill.”
“The street cred and free advertising more than pay the bill. Especially in light of that mug shot.” Oscar pointed at the screen. Elathan Blood appeared, face forward and in profile. Bruised and clawed, hair wild, features drawn in fury, he looked like the dangerous monster he was. “If I were in trouble, I would want the lawyer who took down that matón.”
“But she didn’t take him down. You did, Oscar.”
He took her hand. “We did. He had me on the ropes, I have to admit.
“Obviously, Blood didn’t come after us for a few gold coins and some broken pottery,” Sally said. “What is that room beneath the house? It doesn’t look like any architecture I’ve ever seen. Why is the cellar so freaking huge? And what about Thorn’s mother? Who is she, what kind of creature is she? Certainly not a bear, right? Was Blood really trying to lure her back, or was that all a bunch of BS?”
Oscar’s face darkened in thought. The man liked to play it close to the vest. If he knew something, Sally doubted he would tell her. He lifted the remote and turned off the TV. “I see only two factors of any importance right now.”
Sally eyed him. “These are?”
“Blood is in custody, you are safe. I’m certain Iwalani will get the auto theft charge dropped along with all the others. It was an emergency after all. Whatever else the man pulls, you are in the clear.”
She agreed that this was a very important factor. “And the second?”
Oscar moved closer and whispered in her ear. “The other is that the two of us are naked in bed with nothing better to do all day then to make love.”
Sally was about to protest, until he nibbled her ear lobe. Hot damn! Still, there was so much more to this than the capture of Elathan Blood. “I still want to know—”
Oscar smothered her question with a kiss. Fingers played up and down her body. Her hands roved the topography of his back of their own accord.
“You aren’t going to tell me any more, are you?”
She felt his dick go hard against her hip, his lips and teeth at her neck. “Can’t you tell I’m doing my best to distract you?”
When his fingernails gently scratched her thighs, she jerked in response. He nibbled her ear again, tongue darting within. Woah! His breath was making her crazy.
Yep, she could tell, all right. She threw an arm around his neck, drawing him into a long, slow kiss. At the same time, her fist clenched his engorged cock. She felt his gasp through the kiss.
“Do you want me to make love to you?” he breathed in her ear.
Sally gave his dick a few firm, slow pumps. “No.”
“No?”
“I want you to fuck me. Fuck me like an animal.”
Deep in his chest, she heard a jaguar’s growl. With a single motion, he entered her fully until their pelvises met. Sally cried out at the sweet intrusion.
Rough hands grabbed her tits, thumbs working the nipples. Using her big breasts for grip, Oscar pounded into her. Each thrust was hard steel on the flint of her desire.
Her legs wrapped around him, aiding his motion. Oscar’s eyes met hers, half lidded, filled with lust. He increased his tempo. Sally met each motion.
Staring into his eyes felt like falling in a deep, green jungle pit. His lust ignited her own. Hands on his thrumming muscles, she felt the first ripple of pleasure. It soon became a crashing tidal wave.
Teeth bared, he forced his big cock in and out of her, again and again. He was a machine and animal all at once. The heat was too much for her. Nails biting into his back, she called out, breathless, as she came.
“Ah, but you said animal,” Oscar panted.
Sally could only lay quivering. What did he mean?
Freeing himself from her, he gripped her hips and flipped her over. His hands slapped her ass, and then gripped hard. Sally wailed as he entered her from behind. Bedsprings squealed as he resumed his ferocious pounding.
“That ass, that beautiful ass.” He slapped her butt hard, her building orgasm skipping like a record. His fingers dug into her soft flesh again, drawing her over his hard dick.
She reached between her legs, fingering herself. “Yes, like that! Like an animal! Yes!”
“Your pussy is so wet! How can you pretend to be such a nice girl?” Oscar said, ramming her harder and harder.
“Yes, talk dirty!” Sally cried into the pillows, working two fingers against her clit.
“Naughty slut, hiding your sweet pussy, your beautiful tits from me. I’ll have you until you beg me to make you cum!’
“Don’t stop, don’t stop! Say it in Spanish!”
Oscar let go several rapid-fire sentences in Spanish that sounded all the dirtier for her inability to understand. She found the edge again. She needed him to push her over.
“Beg me to make you cum again, zorra!” He demanded.
“Yes, please, make me cum, Oscar! Make me cum!”
With an athletic prowess that made her clutch the bedding with one hand to keep from being rammed right off the bed, she arched her back. White hot fire blazed from her sex, engulfing her whole body. Oscar went even more rigid inside her.
“Cum with me, Oscar!” She slammed back against him in time. “Cum with me!”
With a cry, he gripped her fiercely, flooded her with fire. Sally shuddered, her mind a blank. She could only freeze in place as the orgasm ripped through every muscle and sinew of her being.
Together, they collapsed together on the bed. Oscar wrapped his arms around her, spooning her from behind. He stroked her hip, nuzzling her hair.
“We will be like this forever,” he whispered.
Afterglow swept over her, cradled in his firm arms. Okay, fine. He distracted her. And Sally would let herself be distracted.
For now.
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The Bear’s Home
Emilia Hartley
CREATED BY JUTOH - PLEASE REGISTER TO REMOVE THIS LINE
Chapter One
“Case Number 45218, State of Oregon versus Elathan Blood.”
The gavel banged, and the bailiff drew him to his feet. Blood’s eyes tracked the courtroom, all polished wood and angry eyes. The shifters stared back at him. Felicity Malkin, a puma-shifter, started the investigation. Her goal was a land swindle, yet she sat in the gallery and he stood before a judge. Thorn pulled her close, a Kodiak-shifter, bigger and taller than even blood himself. Tough as the man was, Blood made him squeal—which was all he really needed.
“Mr. Blood has no representation?” the judge asked.
Iwalani Johnson, attorney, and a shifter Blood couldn’t pin down. She was tricky enough to bring Blood in. She should be representing him. Otherwise, he didn’t stand much chance. León, a private eye, uncovered too many of Blood’s secrets, enough to get him snared. And Sally, sweet, innocent Sally. He’d used her as a tool to get to Thorn. In the end, pulling the black bear out of the girl had been his undoing. They all wanted to watch him go down.
Well, fuck them.
The bailiff pushed him down in the chair. He then stepped back, hand on the butt of his gun, reco
iling from Blood’s murderous expression.
“Mr. Blood assaulted his court-appointed attorney,” the prosecutor, comb-over, blue suit, dusty shoes, stood. “The state requests a psychological evaluation to see if the accused is fit to stand trial.”
There was the crux of it. Blood could stand trial for crimes he was guilty of, or get shuffled off to a psychological lock-down. Modern medicine had enough chemical weapons in their arsenal to alter Blood’s brain chemistry. The link between his human side and his bear half might be severed. He was no cub, changing shape at the first light of the full moon. And as old as he was, he could still do a long sentence standing on his head. But that inner bear would not stay caged.
“One count of battery,” the judge peered at Blood over his glasses, “on your attorney, two counts attempted murder, obstruction of justice, illegal possession of explosives, possession of an illegal firearm—“
Blood couldn’t focus. The pack of shifters eyeing him had caused him a great deal of injury in order to bring him in. Once in custody, he willed himself into a state somewhere between hibernation and a coma. He’d learned the discipline in India. Deep meditation could slow his breathing, his heart rate. Naturally, his shifter abilities enhanced this state. During his unconsciousness, surgeons had removed beads of silver from his flesh. Silver kept him from shifting, from fully healing.
Physically, he was now fit. Fresh out of his deep meditative condition, however, his thinking was fuzzy, his reactions violent. He was a sleepwalker awakened. Elathan Blood, the great planner, the master manipulator. He almost had to laugh at himself.
Of course, he could simply shift into his grizzly form. He could be out of the handcuffs, the prison orange, and running for the woods in just a few seconds. If he did that, and was recaptured, it wouldn’t be the mental ward or a cell. He’d be studied. The word made him shiver internally.
“In the light of the accused’s recent medical issues, it might not be a bad idea to bring in the court psychologist,” the judge mused.
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