NightWind 1st Book: HellWind Trilogy

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  She watched him get out and walk around the front of the car, coming to her door to open it for her. He held out his hand to help her out then shut the door.

  “I’d invite you in, but there would be talk.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” he said, nodding toward Henrietta Malone’s house where the crippled old lady was now standing in the doorway of her house, unabashedly staring at them.

  “Whatever you do,” Lauren warned as he walked her to her door, “don’t give them anything more to say about me than they already do.”

  He stopped walking, dragging her to a standstill beside him. His grip had become painfully tight. “What do you mean?” he asked and there was something intense about the way he had asked his question. He was studying her face closely as she looked up in surprise at him.

  “Nothing,” she assured him. “I think they feel a little sorry for me because I’ve lived here five years and have never had a gentleman caller before.” She lowered her voice. “There’s a girl down the street who comes to visit her boyfriend and they think it’s scandalous. I hear them talking about her like she’s white trash.”

  He lifted his head and stared at the two old women framed in the tall casement window, not at all surprised that they didn’t close the curtain and step back when they realized he had seen them. His face turned hard. “I’ll take care of it,” he said again and drew her toward her front stoop.

  Henrietta Malone frowned when she saw the handsome young man open Miss Fowler’s screen door and usher her inside. She waited, her arthritic hands gripping the stainless steel arms of her walker. She was expecting the man to go into the house with the Fowler girl, but when he just continued to stand on the front steps, looking up at the girl, Henrietta began to relax.

  “He isn’t going to kiss her,” Agnes Black told her sister. “What do you think of that, Anna?”

  Anna Black stared at the young man, her fading eyes sweeping over his wide shoulders and neatly turned rump. “He’s just being cautious. He knows we’re watching him.”

  Lauren thanked Syntian for a wonderful night. “I am going to have a hard time keeping my mind on work tomorrow.”

  “Take the day off,” he advised, smiling.

  “You know I can’t.”

  “I tell you what,” he said, stepping back off the stoop and jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I’ll come by and pick you up for lunch. How’s that?”

  “Don’t you ever work?” she asked him.

  “Gigolos don’t have to.”

  “Shush!” she warned him, looking over at Mrs. Malone’s house where the old woman was intently watching them. “They’ll hear you!”

  “Let them!” he teased, walking backwards. “I don’t care.”

  “I do,” she hissed at him.

  He shrugged. “Too bad!” he said in a sing-song, childish retort. He did a little jig on the sidewalk as he reached his car. “See you tomorrow!”

  “Oh!” Lauren gasped as he reached out to open his car door. “I forgot the cat food!” She came out of the porch and hurried toward him.

  “She’s going to kiss him!” Agnes stated.

  “Hussy!” Henrietta snarled as the girl flew out to the man’s saucy little car.

  Syntian poised, remembering the cat food himself as he saw her coming toward him. “Shame on you,” he said, reaching in to pop the bonnet. “Onyx would never have forgiven you.”

  “He’s probably out roaming around,” she remarked, insisting on taking the bag from him instead of allowing him to carry it to her door for her. “Or sound asleep inside someone else’s house.”

  “Nope,” Syntian told her. “You’re his only human.” he reached out and tweaked her nose. “Make sure you don’t make him stay out in this weather.”

  “What weather?” she chastised. “And besides, who knows where the little brat is?”

  “He’s on your picnic table,” Syntian said, “and it’s going to rain.”

  Lauren shifted the weighty bag filled with cat food, refusing to let him take it away from her. “Go home,” she said. “It’s late.”

  “If you get lonely, I’m listed in the Yellow Pages under Escorts,” he said, grinning.

  “Go!” Lauren admonished.

  Henrietta stiffened as the man bent toward the girl, but when all he did was butt his head against hers, the old woman relaxed again.

  “Well, I never!” Anna Black whispered. “He’s letting her take that bag in by herself!”

  “She wouldn’t let him have it, Anna,” Agnes reminded her older sister.

  “He could have insisted!”

  “He’s watching her get inside safely, though,” Agnes remarked, craning her neck to see into the girl’s front room as the light came on.

  Henrietta stood on her porch until the little black car had disappeared from view. She glanced across the street to see Thaddeus and Nita Atherton sitting on the swing in their front yard. She nodded at the elderly couple; they nodded back, got up from their vantage point and went on back in their house. With a glance toward a sudden flare of heat lightning, Henrietta turned her walker and hobbled back inside her own home.

  Lauren took the bag of cat food into her kitchen, fumbled with the bag, shifting it so she could flip on the overhead light then put the slowly disintegrating bag on the kitchen table. Stooping down by the stove, she pushed aside cans of shortening, bottles of cooking oils, and Pam no-stick spray to make a place for the cat food. When she had stacked the cans neatly in the cupboard, leaving one can in the bag, she shoved the small bag of dried food in beside them and closed the door.

  Outside, a low roll of thunder passed over the house and Lauren looked up with surprise. It hadn’t seemed like rain was in the air when she had been outside, but apparently Syn had been right. She walked to the back door and flipped on the porch light, not at all surprised to see Onyx sitting placidly on the picnic table, peering inquisitively at her.

  “It takes a man to know one,” she laughed and unlocked the back door. She held the screen open. “You wanna come in?” she asked the cat.

  Disdainfully, Onyx got up, stretched his front paws out in front of him, lifted his hind end high in the air, raised up and shook his fur then hopped off the table, padding elegantly up the small run of steps and into the house as though it was something he did every day.

  “Don’t have to be asked twice, eh?”

  The cat strolled to the stove, sniffed at the cupboard door beside it then lifted his head to look up at Lauren.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked, squatting down beside him and putting a hand out to smooth has head. He turned his cheek into her palm and purred contentedly. “Flirt!”

  Onyx looked at her and blinked then turned and, with tail straight up, trotted out of the kitchen and into the house. Lauren watched him going from one piece of furniture to another, sniffing, looking about, jumping up on the sofa, getting down and peering into the corners.

  “Oh, no, you don’t!” Lauren breathed. She didn’t know that much about animals, but Onyx looked as though he were marking off his territory and there was only one way she knew that cats did that and she had left his litter and litter pan in Syn’s car! She hurried after him. “Onyx!’

  The feline turned, gazing at her as she came into the living room. “Meow?” Aye?

  “Ah, I don’t think you’re going to be able to stay in here tonight,” she said with an apologetic grimace. “I forgot to get your litter out of Syn’s car.”

  Onyx turned his back on her and walked to the front door. He rubbed against it as though asking to be let out.

  Lauren shrugged. “Sorry,” she said, thinking about the rain that was beginning to hit the side of the house. “You can sleep on the porch though. I can hose that down if you have an accident.” She opened the door, but the cat stayed where he was. “Come on, Onyx,” she said with exasperation. “You can’t stay in without litter.”

  The feline shook his tail at her and walked halfway out the d
oor, stopped and then looked at her.

  “Go,” she said and tried nudging him out with her foot, but the cat sat down. Heaving a sigh of frustration, Lauren stepped out on the porch and hunkered down, calling him to come to her. As she did, she saw the litter pan and bag of litter sitting in the rocker beside the door. “Syn,” she whispered, thinking he must have realized he had not given her the litter and pan and had come back while she was putting away the cat food.

  “Meow!” Onyx demanded, strolling back inside the house. Now I can stay!

  Lauren looked at the cat, then got up and brought in the litter. “You don’t have to be so darned insistent.” She braced the pan and litter on her hip while she re-locked the door then carried the pan into the kitchen, wondering where she was going to put the litter pan.

  “Meow!” Onyx insisted, trotting into the bathroom. Just put it in here!

  “Well, of course! Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “Meow.” The one word admonishment was enough.

  The wind began to pick up, beating the rain against the windows. Lauren turned out the lights in the main part of the house and went to her bedroom. As Syntian had predicted, Onyx was already there, lying on the foot of Lauren’s bed.

  “I shouldn’t let you do that, you know,” she said eyeing the feline. She kicked off her shoes and started to unbutton her blouse.

  Onyx’s pale green eyes were steady as he stared at her. His low purr was audible. He was stretched out on the bed, front paws tucked gracefully under his chest, his head up, back paws beneath him, tail swishing slowly against the bedspread.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” Lauren told him, vaguely embarrassed by the cat’s intent gaze. She turned her back on him as she unfinished unbuttoning her blouse and pulled it off. She felt him watching her as she unhooked her skirt and slid it down her legs and stepped out of it. She craned her head around and looked at him. “Voyeur!”

  The cat seemed to smile at her. He blinked, threw his head back and yawned. When he lowered his head, he resumed his stare.

  “Brat,” Lauren called him as she turned her head away and pushed off her half-slip.

  He watched her unhook her bra, step out of her panties. His hungry gaze slid down the smooth flesh of her flanks, roamed back up over the curves of her waist and the slight turn of her breasts that were half-hidden by her arms as she reached out for the robe hanging on her closet door. He wished with all his being that she would turn around, that he could see her fully naked, exposed to him, but the robe swung around her, closing off his view of her.

  Lauren turned around and eyed her new pet with suspicion. “Are you going to be good while I take my shower?”

  Onyx’s ears twitched and before Lauren could react, he jumped off the bed and padded regally into the hall and into the bathroom.

  “Oh, no, you don’t!” Lauren mumbled. “You’re not going to watch me bathe!”

  She picked him up from his perch on the toilet lid, put him out of the bathroom and shut the door in his face.

  “Meow!” she heard him protest. I want in!

  “Sorry!” she called through the door.

  The water came on in the bathtub and the sound of shower rings scraping back over the rod came through the door. He sat on the floor, peering up at the handle, wondering if she would hear the door opening. When he decided she wouldn’t, he stared hard at the knob until the door swung soundlessly open.

  Lauren turned her back on the hot spray of the shower nozzle and arched her head into the steaming spray, wetting her hair. The water felt good: clean, relaxing, and invigorating. She stayed under it for as long as she dared before soaping her hair and letting the shampoo stay on while she bathed.

  There was just a tiny seam where the shower curtain did not fully meet the wall and that was where he cast his attention. Moving so that he could look into the tub, he stared up at her as she bathed, keenly watching her hands traveling lovingly over her body as she ran the soapy washrag over her arms and chest and breasts. A fierce gleam of ownership flared in the alien depths of his eyes as her hands moved down, spreading soap over her belly and onto her thighs; and when her hands dipped between her legs, cleansing that part of her he most longed to know, he felt the stiffness of himself pressing hard against the porcelain of the tub. It was both ecstasy and agony as he watched her, letting his adoring gaze travel over her, stopping where it would, memorizing, worshipping. As she began to hum, he made a soft growl deep in his throat, and had to move away from the tub and pad quietly to the door before he lost all sense of control and flung himself on her.

  Lauren stopped, her heart skipping a beat as she thought she heard the door open. Fearfully, she peered around the curtain, relieved to find the door closed although still not entirely so to realize she hadn’t locked it. She listened for a moment, didn’t hear anything then finished bathing, rinsing her hair thoroughly before turning off the tap. Stepping out of the tub, she wrapped the towel around her and opened the bathroom door, peering out into the hall as though expecting to see an intruder.

  “Meow?” What’s the matter, Lauren?

  Lauren glanced down at the cat who was sitting by the door. “Were you bumping against the door, fella?”

  “Meow?” Why? Did I scare you?

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “Don’t do it again.”

  “Meow.” Okay.

  She went back into the bathroom to dry her hair and made an unladylike snort when the cat pushed past her and hopped up on the toilet seat once more. She stared at him as he stared at her.

  “You don’t give up, do you?”

  Onyx grinned.

  She shook her head and reached for the blow dryer.

  He watched her ruffling her short brown hair. It was fine, he knew, like baby’s hair, and just as soft. He liked touching her hair although he had only done so once or twice. He lowered his gaze to the top of the towel that was slowly coming unwound around her chest and chuckled. It wouldn’t take much, just a light tug, to slide the towel away from her. But he didn’t think he should do that. He contented himself with just watching her brush her hair, her teeth, cream her face and neck and arms. He held his breath when she put her foot on the tub and began to apply the cocoa butter cream to her long legs.

  “Do you have a girlfriend, Onyx?” Lauren asked as she smoothed the cream over her calves.

  “Meow.” Yes, I do.

  “Is she pretty?” Lauren looked into the cat’s midnight black face.

  He blinked.

  “Yeah?”

  “Meow.” Yeah.

  “Bring her around sometime,” Lauren advised him. “I’d like to meet her.”

  He smiled to himself. Her scent filled his nostrils as she walked out of the bathroom and he followed her, watching every move she made. He approved of the pretty cotton nightgown she took out of her dresser and held his breath as she let the towel drop and she slid the gown over her head.

  “Sounds like Syntian was right,” she told the cat and didn’t see his ears rotate toward her. She bent over the bed to pull the covers back. “He said it was going to rain.”

  He watched her sit down on the edge of the bed and stare off across the room at the lightning flaring outside the windows.

  “I don’t like storms,” she said absently.

  “Meow.” I know.

  She lay down, pulling the covers up to her waist, and then turned on her left side. She smiled as the cat hopped up on the bed and padded up to her, lay down behind her, his back to her.

  “Syn said you’d sleep at the foot of the bed.”

  “Meow.” He was wrong.

  “Good night, Onyx.”

  “Meow.” Good night, my love.

  Lauren Fowler sighed with pleasure. A sweet, enchanting feeling of lassitude and peace had settled over her as she slept. For once in her life, her world was not at odds with her. She felt safe and protected and loved. She was wrapped in a warm cocoon of security, supported by the comforting hands of refuge, sh
ielded from harm and adversity and intolerance by the wide chest of fate. The warm breath of chance had blown over her, cleansing her life of unhappiness and misfortune. Guarded now by the vigilant presence of an unseen sentinel, she lay in the sheltering arms of a new destiny.

  “Lauren.”

  She smiled, turning over into those sheltering arms and pressing her cheek against that wide chest of fate. Comforting hands stroked her back and soothed away the worries and cares. Her sentinel’s body lay solidly against her own and she nestled against him, aching to feel the warmth she had so long been denied.

  He knew she had sunken as far down into the chamber of dreams as she could go. Her breathing was slow and deep and even. There was nothing standing between him and what he longed to have except the tiny pull of conscience that reminded him she was not to be touched.

  Yet.

  His body throbbed with wanting her. The rigidity of his manhood leapt against her belly to remind him that he did and he pressed himself closer to her, molding her tightly to him in an effort to still the building need within him. She snuggled against him, her warmth invading his senses. A deep growl of possession issued from his throat and he placed his lips to her forehead, claiming her as his own.

  He had lain beside her all night, listening to her steady breathing, blocking out the wild tempest brewing overhead, shielding her from the fear she had of the raging storm. He had whispered to her, calming her, stroking her back to ease her and help settle her deeper into the realm of Morpheus. He dared not touch her as he wanted to until she had turned over in her sleep, seeking out his arms and the security of his embrace. Now, with her laying full length against him, his need was almost unbearable.

  Light flared brightly in the room and he began to count, tensing for the thunderous boom he knew was to follow. A moment before the loud crack, he tensed his arms around her, safeguarding her from the noise, absorbing the instinctive flinch that shivered through her sleeping form.

  “Oh, Lauren,” he sighed, desire making his voice deep. He nuzzled his chin along her temple and closed his eyes.

  From somewhere in her subconscious, there came a need. At first it was small, nearly hidden by the deep slumber that claimed her, but it grew, blossoming within her like the promise of a new day. It quivered along her nerve-endings and sent little electric bursts of desire quickening throughout her body. It made her breathing ragged and her heartbeat erratic and a sheen of moisture appeared under her arms and between her thighs.