Second Heart: Bones of Eden

by Zaide Bishop

  She kissed her way across his shoulders, then down his chest and belly, which was taut and trembling with anticipation. He fumbled with the knot of his grass skirt, letting it fall away and pool around his feet on the stone.

  Charlie paused a moment, studying his shaft and testicles, nested in a thicket of dark hair quite similar to her own. His genitals and upper thighs were not as deeply tanned as the rest of his body, protected from the sun by his skirts. His skin was soft, his cock thick and hard.

  She took him in her mouth, tasting salt and skin. Up and down, India had said, and using your hands. Not back and forth and round and round, as if she had been pleasuring a sister.

  Sugar made a sound that was more whimper than moan, shivers rolling down his thighs as she licked and sucked him like a marrow bone.

  His hands, reaching low, were each cupping a breast, and he toyed with her in rhythm with her strokes, stroking and tugging her nipples in a way that might have been painful if she was not so turned on. She inhaled him enthusiastically, delighted by his rising gasps and moans. Occasionally his hips would buck, and she tried to draw him deeper and lick faster with every pull. His pleasure was electric. His need. His want for her.

  He touched her cheek, gently guiding her to stop. “I need to taste you,” he said.

  “I don’t want to stop. I want to see an Elikai come.”

  “You will. Imminently. But first, this.”

  Obediently, she slid back on the stone, giving him room to drop to his knees and join her on the floor. Their eyes met; she saw the flash of uncertainty under his bravado and commanding tone. They were both deep in unfamiliar territory.

  “Think you remember everything Tare said?” she teased.

  He arched an eyebrow. “Slot A in tab B?”

  “Hmm, maybe I should have let India tell you...”

  He kissed her, his tongue pressing into hers with an urgent kind of passion, then he slid down her body as she had done to him, pausing to suck her nipples into his mouth, his teeth grazing the tender flesh of her breast.

  She arched against him, groaning as the ripples of sensation spread across her skin, but then he was working his way down, across her belly and thigh to bury his tongue between her cleft. She gasped, her body curving in another involuntary arc. He seemed to have three tongues, all of them questing and tunneling, moving from shell to pearl. She cried out each time he reached the latter.

  He quickly realized it was a sound of pleasure, and his attention settled there—one hand steadying her hips, the other with fingers that quested between shell to anus, testing both, and then sinking into the one that was unfamiliar to him.

  Tare had clearly been talking to his brothers, because Sugar seemed to know just where to press and how to please. She made no attempt to be silent, her breathy cries echoing back to them from the deeper tunnels, so it sounded like there were other Sugars and Charlies coupling in the darkness.

  He pulled away from her without warning, slithering up between her thighs and guiding his swollen shaft into her with one smooth movement. He filled her, and she arched again, driving him deeper. They both cried out, and that instant of penetration echoed around them.

  He kissed her, and she tasted herself. His hips began to thrust, and she rose up to meet him. Their bodies moved as one, skin sliding over skin. His mouth was everywhere, her lips, her neck, her breasts.

  She held him tight. She never wanted to be without him. She wanted it to be like this, right now, forever. She would have given up everything she had just to stay with him, and that was exactly how it was supposed to be. Both of them, together.

  Her climax was building, and she made no attempt to contain it. It rolled through her like a shockwave, taking away all sense of reason, erasing everything but Sugar’s touch. He started to shudder and gasp, and his long, hard thrusts became stiff jerks until he froze up completely, buried to the hilt inside her.

  He rested his forehead against hers, their breath intermingling. She could feel the heat of him inside her. The unsteady gasp of his breaths. He sagged, the strength going out of his arms in an instant, and she kissed his bruised lips, tasting salt.

  He lowered himself onto the stone beside her, pulling her close and kissing her forehead. She stroked his sweaty hair off his face. Traced his lips, followed the lines of his neck and touched the scars there.

  “You are the most perfect thing in this world,” he murmured.

  She shook her head, disagreeing, but his eyes were already closed.

  Chapter Five

  Whiskey was dozing. Beside her, Fox was shaping new arrowheads. The steady grind of stone on stone was oddly comforting, as was the now familiar warm smell of him so close by.

  They weren’t actually touching—they rarely allowed any physical contact when the others could see them—but often as not, they sat together. Not talking, just sharing space, listening to the other breathe.

  They hunted together most days, and Fox was learning to direct the dog pack like Whiskey did. They weren’t always affectionate, but they were growing very comfortable with one another, and they were starting to communicate more with gestures and looks than words.

  She felt safest sleeping when he was awake, knowing he would let nothing sneak up on her.

  The sudden commotion startled them both.

  “It’s all magic, bad magic!” Love was on his feet with a bone knife, which he was pointing at the startled India. Tare was nowhere to be seen, possibly hunting, but more likely answering a call of nature, as it was too windy outside to see very far at all.

  India said something, too quietly for Whiskey to hear, but judging by her hand motions it was supposed to be soothing.

  “No!” Love’s voice rose to a shriek. “You...you tricked him! You tricked everyone. He used to be my best friend! We were together all the time. You ruined him!”

  Love was waving the knife about in an alarming fashion. Not with any deliberate hostility, but with a carelessness that was bound to end with someone being hurt. He was shorter than Whiskey by nearly a foot, but India was so small, everyone loomed over her, even him.

  Whiskey got to her feet, casting a glance at Fox. He shrugged, clearly not wanting to be involved.

  “Go and sit down, Love,” Whiskey said, feeling the first stirrings of irritation. “India didn’t use ‘magic’ on Tare. He chose to be with her.”

  “That’s not true!” The young man was almost hysterical. “He never had any interest in the Varekai before she took him hostage. She did something to him. She poisoned him!”

  “Love,” Whiskey warned, “if you keep waving that knife around, someone is going to get hurt. And it’s more likely to be you than me.”

  Love looked between India and Whiskey. She wished Charlie and Sugar were there, but they had snuck off together again, and Whiskey could guess exactly what they were up to. Meanwhile, there didn’t seem to be anyone else here willing to take responsibility.

  Xícara took a step in their direction. “Love,” he said, voice calm and low, “you’re scaring India.”

  “She needs to be scared.” Love lurched toward her, blade stretched out before him and pointed at her throat. India held up her hands, palms out and eyes wide. Whiskey circled closer, waiting for her moment.

  “Tell them!” he yelled. “Tell them what you did!”

  “Love!” Tare padded into the cave, dripping rain from sand-colored hair. “What is this?”

  “I’m making her tell the truth! It’s all tricks, Tare. Remember when you loved me? She took it away somehow.”

  Love jerked the blade again, and it grazed India’s shoulder. She yelped as a thin red line of blood beaded on her dark skin. Tare’s eyes widened, and he lunged forward too. Following his lead, Whiskey flanked him, grabbing Love and holding his arms as Tare wrestled the knife out of his h
ands.

  Love kicked Whiskey in the knee, screaming insults, and she grunted in annoyance. Tare tossed the knife to Xícara and quickly crouched beside India, fussing over the scratch and leaving Whiskey to wrestle with the hysterical Elikai alone.

  He kicked her again, and she gave him a hard shove, sending him sprawling onto the stone floor. This time he yelped, and his elbows and knees went pale from impact, little leaves of skin lifting away then starting to bleed profusely.

  “Hey!” Romeo was in Whiskey’s face in an instant, eyes narrowed. “You can’t push him around.”

  “He kicked me! He went at India with a knife. She’s bleeding.”

  “Oh, I keep forgetting you’re the great protector these days.” Romeo’s tone was ice-cold, and Whiskey found herself floundering for words.

  “I’m trying to stop a fight...”

  “By pushing people around? I guess you’ve changed tactics since the world began.”

  “That wasn’t—” Whiskey was cut off by Love, who threw himself across the floor at India. It was all Tare could do to hold him, and when Whiskey tried to intervene, Romeo tripped her, sending her sprawling onto Love’s back.

  “What’s going on here?” Charlie demanded, slipping into the cave with Sugar.

  “Whiskey attacked Love,” Romeo said.

  Love tried to wiggle out from under Whiskey. “India bewitched Tare!”

  “They’re all really crazy,” Zebra told Sugar.

  Whiskey rolled to her feet and dusted herself off. Her knee was still throbbing. She was angry and hurt, and she couldn’t bring herself to look at Romeo.

  “No more,” Sugar said firmly. “Love, stay away from India. Whiskey, stay away from everyone else!”

  Whiskey bit back a snarl, grabbing her spear and stalking toward the cave mouth, not caring at all about the rain. Fox grabbed his own and trailed after her.

  “We all saw what happened,” he said. “Everyone knows you were trying to help.”

  “You all saw what happened today,” she spat.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” Fox could never know the truth. “If you want to hunt with me, be quiet. You’re scaring off all the game.”

  * * *

  Animals were scarce. Dog and Vaca found a number of corpses, mostly just heads, left by the megalania. Pigs and goats alike had fallen to the primitive lizards, and the rest were hiding from the rain that blew across the rocky hill face sideways, borne on blustering, twirling winds. The Elikai stuck sticks in burrows, dragging out hostile pythons and a fat goanna, and they gathered green fruit, fallen in mud or still attached to branches that had been torn from trees. They didn’t find any live goats. They didn’t see any fresh pig tracks.

  “There’s nothing,” Dog muttered irritably. The blood from the larger python he had beheaded was dribbling out of the wicker basket on his back and down his spine. It felt like cold soup, thicker than water and clumping ickily on his skin.

  “I don’t want to go back yet,” Vaca said with a soft sigh. The wind was tousling his dusky hair into his eyes, and he tried to sweep it back. “There’s too many of them in that cave. Their voices. Their smell. I just need some more time in the fresh air.”

  Dog glanced at him. “You’re talking about our sisters? Everyone else seems pretty thrilled with them.”

  Vaca rolled his eyes, unable to hide his exasperation. “I noticed. If Fox struts around with his chest out any further, he’s going to throw out his back. And Sugar has all but forgotten his own name. It’s not healthy. It’s like they’re all diseased.”

  “Bloodlust,” Dog said, amused.

  Vaca nodded. “I preferred it when that was still a driving force in the decision process.”

  “You don’t want more brothers?” Vaca was cynical, but Dog had still expected him to welcome the idea of expanding the tribe.

  “I do. But at what cost? Is it worth it? Handing ourselves over to the Varekai like livestock? Do the others really think the Varekai will give us the Elikai babies? And what if they only have more Varekai, hmm?”

  “I’m sure they’ll have both. That’s sort of how the whole reproduction thing works.”

  “With animals. We came from Eden. I think I’d remember if some Varekai had given birth to me. We are not like the dogs. We are not like the chickens. We are certainly not like the mandarin tree.”

  Dog nodded, and for a little while they continued their hunt in silence, though they both knew it was pointless. Dog appreciated the time to just think. He had assumed he was the only one who felt that way about the Varekai. The idea of sex with them seemed to excite his brothers beyond reason, but Dog found the idea disturbing. Repulsive, even. He wished the Elikai could just stick with the Elikai and be happy with what they already had. He had not been brave enough to say anything, though. Once, admitting attraction to a Varekai would have been a blasphemy. Now it seemed like the opposite was true. Love was the only Elikai still vocalizing desire for another brother, and his obsession with Tare was so clearly unrequited it hurt to watch. Now everyone was looking at Love like he was a freak, and Dog didn’t want his brothers to look at him that way too.

  He was, in a way, impressed with Vaca’s honesty.

  “I don’t like the Varekai either,” Dog admitted, and then struggled to recover. “I mean, I don’t dislike them. I just don’t like them the way Tare likes India. They’re fleshy, and their bums are fat. Their shoulders are narrow, and their arms are like wiggly twigs.”

  Vaca raised an eyebrow at him, looking bemused. “I...see?”

  Dog sulked. “You know what I mean.”

  “I think so. I mean, yes. You just chose a very odd way of expressing it.”

  “I didn’t want you to think you were the only one.”

  “There’s Love.”

  “Love is an idiot.”

  “Well, yes. He’s quite adamant about his opinions on the Varekai. And then there’s Tare.”

  “And Tare,” Dog agreed.

  “That’s not really the point right now, is it?”

  “Isn’t it?”

  Vaca gave him another one of those bemused looks that made him feel like an idiot. Vaca acted like he knew everything, which was even more frustrating because he usually did. “We need the Varekai. We need them to like us. We’re going to starve without them.”

  “They don’t have enough food for them and us,” Dog reminded him. “Even with their supplies, they still planned to hunt much of the season. But there isn’t anything to hunt. Even if they weren’t feeding us, they would struggle to get through the season.”

  “Yet, we’re still eating,” Vaca pointed out. “They’re still looking after us. Because of Sugar. And Charlie. This affection between Varekai and Elikai, it gives an intense need to protect the other. I think Tare would kill one of his own brothers if they tried to hurt India. He would choose her over you or me. You know that, right?”

  Dog was silent a moment. He hadn’t really thought about it, and he didn’t want to believe it, but maybe Vaca was right. Maybe Tare would choose India over any of them. Even Love. He supposed Tare had already chosen India over Love.

  “That’s why I’m out here,” Vaca said. “With you.”

  “Because of Tare?”

  “Because the Varekai are driving me crazy, but if I show it, they might get annoyed. They might drive us out. We need them to like us, or we’re all going to die.”

  “You’re right,” Dog realized, surprised. “I should make more effort to be friends.”

  Vaca nodded. “It’s only going to help us for so long. When everyone gets hungry, this truce is going to go the way of a chicken in a pack of dogs.”

  * * *

  For nearly a month Charlie had been able to ignore the pending crisis. Their supplies had been well organi
zed and rationed, but now stocks were running low, and every day the hunters seemed to come back with less and less meat. The storms came with alarming frequency and violence, Zebra and Tango had almost been swept away in a sudden tidal surge, and leaving the shelter of the cave was a risky business.

  When no one was thinking about food, all was well. The tribes cohabited in the space, sharing tools and stories. Tare and India were still inseparable, William followed Romeo around like a devoted hound, and Whiskey and Fox hunted together daily. It was clear they were taking time out for more intimate activities. It was impossible for Charlie to be mad, though, as she and Sugar were doing the same.

  She suspected there had been other, temporary liaisons, perhaps borne more from curiosity than affection. As long as no one was fighting or hurt, Charlie encouraged it. Every coupling had the potential to create more baby Kai.

  No matter how Charlie pretended it wasn’t inevitable, soon there would not be enough food to go around. Soon she would have to make a choice.

  Sugar, or her sisters.

  The sun was setting, and through the gaps in the purple clouds, a brilliant yellow moon was rising, so full and fat it seemed to take up more than its fair share of sky. The Varekai, with no meat to spare, had sliced off thin ribbons of their sleeping furs and gathered handfuls of feathers to throw in the flames. Already the drums were laid out in preparation for the ceremony.

  Charlie was sick, too sick to smear herself with the fatty mushroom paste that would allow her to see the spirits and dance with them when the blood flowed. It was not like her to feel unwell when the moon blood came. She wasn’t like Whiskey, all cramps and pain. This wasn’t even pain, though, just nausea. Hunger, perhaps, or apprehension over her coming decisions. She hoped she hadn’t eaten something bad. None of them could afford to get the runs or vomit when food and clean water were so scarce.