by Jasmine Walt
Hung peered around the boulder and took a wild shot at the guard.
The guy yelled and leapt in the cave.
“Get out here where I can see you.” Hung continued to provoke the man. “Hurt the dog and you’re a dead man.”
“We’ll see about that,” the man groused.
Chia kept up her creeping around the back of the cave, oblivious to her pain. She climbed up over the top the cave entrance, slipping slightly on the frozen, snow covered rocks. “Crap!” she muttered under her breath as she lost her footing.
“What’s that? Who’s with you?”
“Come on out and see,” Hung called. “I may or may not have a whole team of sharpshooters at the ready.”
Curses floated from the cavern.
Chia listened as chains rattled, and Cecil growled and barked. She watched as he was dragged from the cave, tugging at the chain around his neck. His whines of protest and distress cut through her like a knife.
“Shoot me and the dog gets shot.” The guard crouched behind Cecil and pointed his gun at the husky’s head. His gaze darted in every direction. “Where are the others? I don’t see anyone.”
Hung grinned. “I only wanted the company. I lied.”
The guard glared at him, suspicion evident. “What, now we’re going to get all chatty? Fuck that.”
“It gets lonely out here.” Hung pulled a sad face.
“Tell me about it,” the guard said, still looking suspicious.
“Why haven’t you shot him already?” Hung called.
Cecil the husky crouched, trembling and shivering.
“Thought he might make a great pet for the family. He’s nothing but a foul tempered pound dog, if you ask me.”
The canine let out a low growl.
“Good thing you didn’t ask. I’d have to agree with you. Got him off an ill-tempered fisherman. Dog’s been a nuisance ever since.” Hung waved his arm at Chia, pointing at a spot directly beside the cave.
From her vantage point she could see him, while the asshat cave guard could not. She crept to where he pointed. As she raised her rifle to take aim, she noticed the ghosts were missing. Where did they go? Maybe they went back to get their dumb needs met.
She pulled a twenty-six long range cartridge from her pocket and loaded it in the push feed. Grateful to have a clear shot, without them obscuring her vision, she propped the rifle along the boulder, positioned the butt at her shoulder, and peered through the spotting scope. The kickback better not screw up my shoulder, she thought, wincing at her arm position. But if it saves a friend, it’s worth the pain.
Hung waved his hand at her.
Wrong angle? Too close to Cecil? She repositioned, moving the Nosler forty-five degrees to the left. Come on. Work with me, she said silently to the rifle. You’re known for your long range accuracy.
He gave her a thumbs up, keeping his hand low and out of sight of the guard. “So are you going to keep cuddling with the dog or are you going to release him and face me like a man?”
Chia had a clear sight through the scope. She swallowed. Felt herself sweating beneath her clothes. Her heart hammered in her chest. I’ve never killed a man, she thought. Never killed anything. Only target practice.
Hung made a hurry up gesture. He brought his gun out of his holster and pointed it at the guard.
Come on, you can do this. She blinked, as an icy droplet of sweat rolled into her eye. Wiped her eyes with the back of her gloved hand.
“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” the guard yelled, sounding cocky. “This here mutt’s shaking like a leaf. I might need to put him down.” He cocked the hammer on his gun.
Cecil let out an unearthly, high-pitched cry, as if he’d been hit.
Oh, that’s it, you bastard.
The guy started to speak again as Chia pulled the trigger, catching him neatly in the back of the head.
He jerked forward and fell on top of the brown and white husky. Blood and brains spattered the pristine snow.
Cecil yelped and wriggled out from underneath the male. He shook out his luxurious coat and wagged his tail.
“Good shot, woman,” Hung said, standing. “Let’s see to the cave dwellers.”
Pumped with adrenaline, Chia down climbed as fast as she could, given her screwed up shoulder, and met him and the husky at the mouth of the cavern. “Are you okay?” she asked the husky? She patted his head and rubbed his pelt, grateful he seemed all right. “I was so worried about you,” she said.
He licked her face.
“Okay, all right, that’s enough,” she said, pushing his sloppy tongue away.
They peered inside. Lit by sputtering torches, they eyed the five shamans, dressed in traditional attire of animal hide clothing and fur-lined boots. The men were slumped over, passed out or dead, Chia couldn’t tell which. She rushed inside, feeling for pulses in their necks, pushing back their sealskin coat collars to find the veins. “They’re barely alive,” she told Hung and Cecil the dog. “Weak, erratic pulses. What should we do?”
“They probably need water, for starts. Let’s grab handfuls of snow and try to hydrate them.”
Chia and Hung got to work, scooping handfuls of snow, holding them over the lips of the shamans and letting the droplets leak into their mouths. Cecil the canine acted as inspiration, jumping, barking, licking the men’s faces, and digging in the snow, no doubt thankful to be alive.
“I’m not sure if this is working. All we’re doing is busy-work,” Chia said, twenty minutes later.
“Yeah, I’m starting to wonder, too. We don’t know what they’ve endured. Let’s scout around for some food. Maybe the guards have some stored around here somewhere.”
They got to work, searching the dimly lit cavern.
“Hey!” Chia cried. “Cecil! Come here, boy.”
The husky romped to where she stood.
“Sniff around for food, okay? Find something.”
With a bark of acknowledgement, the husky put his nose to the cold ground, and set his sniffer free. He moved in a zigzag, back and forth, in super speed. His sniffing led him back into the depths of the cavern.
“Still got that flashlight?” Chia asked Hung.
He fished around in the inner pocket of his coat and retrieved the small, powerful light. “Here.” He extended it to her.
Chia took it from him, their fingers connecting briefly, the sizzle of lusty heat making her heart soar. She gave him a look of depth and longing, then turned and followed the canine, aiming the light at his zigzagging form.
Cecil stopped near a group of stalagmites and barked, his tail wagging furiously.
“Find something? Show me.” Chia raced to where he stood and pointed the flashlight beam behind the mineral deposits. She stooped to retrieve a red and white camp cooler. Opening the sturdy plastic lid, she found stores of jerky, dried packets of soup and beans, cans of beer, and a couple bottles of water. A silver flask rested on the bottom. Chia unscrewed the lid, sniffed and jerked her head. “Whew! Vodka!” She screwed the lid back on and yelled, “Hung! Help me with this. I can’t lift this heavy load the moment.”
A few seconds later, Hung appeared. He easily hefted the cooler.
The husky put his nose down and continued sniffing. He barked, his tail wagging like a weather vane.
Chia peered behind the mineral formations. She reached down and retrieved a canvas backpack. Unzipping it, she said, “A first aid kit! Good news. Let’s see if there’s something we can use.”
“Bring it to the front of the cave.”
They hustled to the unconscious men, holding their supplies like gold.
Chia got to work cleaning and dabbing ointment on the cuts and scrapes of the shamans whose bodies had slid down the jagged wall.
One of the shamans, a wizened old man with a wrinkled face like an elephant’s hide, had come-to and pushed himself to sitting. “Who are you?” he croaked, his throat raw, no doubt from overuse, lack of hydration and undernourishment.
> “We’re here to help, that’s who. You’ve got to undo the spell you cast. But first, we’ve got to get you all back to life.” Hung passed him a water bottle and said, “Drink slowly. We only have a couple bottles for all five of you.”
“Thank you.” He took the bottle with trembling fingers and poured a small amount into his parched throat. “I can sing the others back to life,” he said.
“No,” Chia said. “You’re dehydrated. Parched. Don’t ruin your throat. We’ll get them roused.”
“You can’t. They’ve gone into the deep trance between worlds. Some are so weak they’ll be tempted to continue their journey to the otherworld. Only I can bring them back. I’m their elder.” He took another swallow of water. “This spell-cast required we give of our souls, our life essence. We’ll be doing penance for our crime for lifetimes.” His brown eyes flooded with tears.
Chia crouched before the elder, gripping his gnarled hand. “No. I suspect you did this against your will.”
“We didn’t. They promised us needed supplies. We live in a village far north. Times are hard in our village. We lack medical supplies, food, goods for building shelter. They told us the spell was for the good of the town of Charming. That we’d be doing a service.”
“They lied to you!” Chia said.
The elder shook his head. “It was up to us to know the difference between truth and deceit. When they chained us to the cave…” He burst into a phlegmy, lung-racking cough. When he got it under control, he continued. “When we heard the gunshots…when we were given no food or water…we knew we were being used. But by then, the spell had already been cast.”
“So, then,” Chia said, smiling. “No penance required.”
The elder gave her a rueful, sad smile in return. “We’re revered in our village. We brought shame upon our people. Rule are rules. We did harm to your people. We violated the spirits who fill this sacred valley by using them to cast our spell.”
“Spirits? So it really is haunted?”
The shaman nodded. “The souls of those seeking redemption wait here for their final judgement. When the star cluster you call Ursa Major looms directly overhead, they are called to the afterworld or sent to the underworld.”
“Wow. There’s so much about this land I don’t know.”
The elder continued. “And now we have soiled this ground by our actions. We must follow the guidelines handed down by our ancestors and do penance.”
Chia glanced at Hung, cocking her head to study him, for a moment, as if to say, “See?”
He shrugged.
“Rules can be changed,” she said softly, turning back to the elder.
“We can’t simply change them based on a whim. We can only modify them if the evolution of the people demands it. If the original rule no longer serves. But the rule of doing no harm…there’s no reason to modify it. It is a good law, shared by cultures the world over.”
A stab of guilt wound its way around Chia’s gut. “I…I killed a man. That’s the ultimate harm.”
“Did you do it in self-defense?”
“I did it to protect my friend. The man would have killed him.”
“Well then.” The elder smiled gently at her, his eyes conveying vast wisdom. “There are justifications for taking a life if the actions warrant it.”
Chia winced, not wanting to meet Hung’s eyes.
Hung coughed out a laugh of sorts, and Chia glared at him.
The elder took one final sip of water, cleared his throat, closed his eyes, and began to chant in the strange, guttural throat singing of his people.
Chia stood and made her way to Hung. She whispered to him, “You can laugh all you want but…he’s right, you know. I can’t change a rule on a whim. I can only do it if the original rule no longer serves.”
“We’ll have to see how things roll, then, won’t we?” He gave her a non-committal smile, his arms folded over his chest, his gaze trained on the shamans.
One by one, the men woke from their trance. They glanced at Chia, Hung and the dog, took the water passed to them, sipped, and joined in the throat singing. Slowly, their voices grew stronger, joining with the others, until one strong voice rang. As they sang, they rose as one and made their way to the three of them. They stepped in a stately circle around them, continuing their chant.
Chia felt her spirit lift, the same way the owl had taken her mind for a ride. She experienced restoration of mind and body, in a manner that she knew would yield swift healing from the broken bones and the assault on her ego. On impulse, she reached for Hung’s hand, now hanging by his side.
Surprise coloring his handsome face, he folded his large hand over her smaller one, and squeezed. Turning to face her, he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her in a delicious embrace.
She melted into his arms, ready to yield to her desires, to get her needs met, and by God have fun with the man for a start. This felt good. It felt right. It felt like long withheld food. And if she had to break a rule or two—hell, I’ve killed a man, shot a man’s hand, I’m on a roll here—so be it. Maybe her intimacy rule hadn’t been needed in the first place.
The husky put his head back and howled.
21
“How does it feel to have broken a few rules, my sweet, rebellious, cupcake queen?” Hung loomed over her, his hips snug between her legs, one of the most delicious parts of him buried inside her smoothly waxed valley.
“Oh, don’t remind me of rules. I’m too immersed in pleasure to care.” She grabbed his fine, hard ass and squeezed. I’ll probably pay for my crimes somehow. No doubt, I’ll get a new energy blip.
He ground against her, making slow circles.
“Ahhh,” she moaned. “Too good. This is too good.” She glanced at the ceiling. Still no ghosts. Odd.
“Damn, you’re a good shot. The sight of you wielding that rifle put wood in my britches.”
Chia gave him a saucy smile. “Did it now? Wait until you see me fire the Glock.”
Hung’s luscious mouth dipped down to meet hers. He dropped to his forearms, careful to not put weight on her, cupping his palms around her head, using his fingers to massage her scalp while he kissed her, long and deep.
Releasing her lips with a juicy smack, he rolled onto his back, gently taking her with him. “You drive for a while. I want to sit back and watch your gorgeous self.” He laced his calloused fingers behind his head and grinned at her. “Touch yourself. I love to watch your face when you come. It scrunches up all cute and hot.”
She smirked at him. “Like the pink frosted cupcake I am, back brace and all.” She dropped her head to look at her pointy breasts, held in position by the damned brace.
“Exactly. Positioned for my pleasure.” He licked his lips. “Bring ‘em here so I can suck on your succulent nipples.”
She leaned forward, back as straight as she could, dangling her breasts in his face.
He brought his hands to them and caressed them, sucking hard on one nipple, then the other, making them pucker with pleasure.
She hadn’t been in as much pain as she’d feared when they’d returned. In fact, maybe, just maybe, the vamp juice and the shaman chants had sped up the healing process. Chia held hope in her heart, while letting caution guide her movements…sort of. When she and Hung had kissed for the first time, in her house, all caution flew out the window.
Currently, filled to the brim with passion, she did as he requested, rocking against him, letting her fingers add to her arousal, delighting in the visual of him beneath her. A study in dark and light, he evoked both the stormy glacier wilderness and the softness of a summer day.
Curly blond hair covered his strong, rugged chest. His muscular arms could caress as easily as they could kill. His mouth…don’t get me started on his lips. I love those babies. His whiskered face could turn into a fierce, unfeeling wall of steel, then switch into soft clouds, rolling through her horizon.
As her pleasure built, he moved his arms to grasp her hips. “Jes
us,” he growled. “You’re going to make me lose it, woman.” His eyelids closed as he fought control.
“Give it to me, Hung. Lose yourself in me,” Chia gasped. She let out a long, low moan as her own climax crested. Outside the window, the faintest of morning light begin to appear, she heard the howl of a husky. Crap. Busted. Get away from the window, dog.
After they’d arrived home from the Haunted Bear glacier a few hours earlier, Cecil had changed into his human form, to prove he could do so, then changed back, racing away with his boys. The other shifters popped into human form like fireworks when Chia told them the spell had been lifted.
They congratulated her on her safe return, telling her they knew she could do it. She felt like the biggest heroine ever. She smiled and waved like a queen as they all made their way home, naked as the day they were born.
Now, apparently Cecil the husky had returned from his trek and sat outside her bedroom window, an audio voyeur dog, listening.
Shaking her head, she focused on her own pleasure, as Hung roared with release.
Afterward, she fell on top of him, replete and exhausted. It felt good to be with someone who matched her. No way in hell could she boss around this man. She began to drift into a blissful snooze when Hung interrupted her meander toward dreamland.
“Hey, baby.” He eased her to the side, kissing her temple along the way.
“Mm hmm?” she said drowsily.
“Gotta go relieve myself. Be right back.”
After he returned, he slid under the covers with her. “You should see the news. TV’s on in the front room.”
“Nuh uh,” she said. “Later.”
He pulled her back against his warm torso, spooning with her. “Thanks for giving me a chance,” he whispered in her ear.
“Thanks for not giving up on me,” she murmured. She fell into a slumber, soaring on the wings of owls, held in place by Hung Durand.
Several hours later, she stood in the kitchen, cooking potatoes and bacon. Several brown, white, and light blue-green eggs rested on the counter. She cracked them against the side of a ceramic bowl and whisked them to a froth.