Indigo Moon
Page 12
Isabelle tensed. She was not jealous by nature, but the thought of Ren with other lovers enraged her. It seemed her placid nature was changing.
Ren lowered her mouth and captured a nipple, rolling it between her teeth, and all Isabelle’s jealousy evaporated. Ren worshipped Isabelle’s breasts with her tongue and teeth until they were swollen and glistened with her saliva and the areolas puckered hard. Isabelle murmured in disappointment when her mouth moved away, and then Ren was kissing the soft skin of her stomach, all the way down to her navel where her tongue dipped in ticklish curiosity. Isabelle kicked off her shoes and pants and helped drag off Ren’s clothes. Their legs and arms entwined as they locked against each other.
Ren pushed her thigh between Isabelle’s and kissed a track from Isabelle’s jumping pulse down to the valley between her breasts. Isabelle bore down, rolling her hips until Ren’s thigh was wet with her excitement. Ren slid down her body to tease her navel, dipping her tongue in the salty indentation until Isabelle’s belly quivered with each touch. Her hands knotted in Ren’s hair, guiding her lower, demanding attention where she needed it most.
Isabelle took command and raised her hips, offering herself up. She gasped when Ren’s dark head plunged onto her sex. Ren dove on the tender folds and ground her lips onto them, plundering with a thick, hungry tongue. She nuzzled and sucked on the plump clitoris as Isabelle rose to meet her. She laved her in long, firm strokes, driving Isabelle relentlessly toward orgasm. Her hair was pulled, her shoulders scratched as Isabelle cried out. Every molecule of her body centered on her—and then exploded in a tidal wave of pure, white heat. Her core melted and blew off a dozen pyrotechnics.
Isabelle lay dazed, panting at the ceiling as Ren crawled up her body. An enormous smile played across Ren’s lips, and Isabelle could smell her own scent on Ren’s face and hair. She gathered her into her arms and held her. Isabelle struggled for words but failed to find any. She was incapable of speech. Ren nuzzled her neck and across to her injured shoulder. Carefully, she pulled away the bandage. Isabelle twisted her head to see the curved row of scabby stitches. She was pleased they were healing well. Ren put her mouth to the wound and kissed it. Isabelle relaxed, a satisfied smile on her lips. The kiss became a deep, burning bite. Isabelle screamed as molten lead poured through muscle, then bone. Darkness enfolded her and nausea rolled through her in lurching waves. Then Ren let go of the bite and pulled her close, just as Isabelle thought she might pass out.
Seconds later, she felt a wet kiss on her ear and smelled her blood and sex on Ren’s breath.
“You bit me,” Isabelle managed to gasp. Was it revenge for her earlier bite?
“I love you,” Ren murmured in Isabelle’s ear. “Now we’re bonded. You are mine.”
“You bit me,” Isabelle said again, still disbelieving.
“And you bit me. Ask yourself why.”
“I don’t know why.”
“Soon you’ll understand. And then you’ll stay forever.”
Ren gathered Isabelle in her arms and carried her to bed.
*
“Beep beep,” Mouse called, and ruthlessly revved the throttle of her junior quad bike.
“What have you got there?” Isabelle emerged from the cabin. She stood on the top porch step and looked suitably impressed at Mouse astride her DayGlo pink quad.
“This is mine,” Mouse said. “Ren got me it for Christmas. But the horn’s broke. Joey’s gonna fix it for me now.”
“It’s fantastic.”
“Come on. There’s one for you, too. Joey says you can borrow his so I can show you around. Follow me.” Mouse did a nifty U-turn and scooted back down to the barn. Intrigued, Isabelle followed on foot. This was a welcome turn of events in what could have been a boring day. The morning air was chill but promised a brighter afternoon. She had awoken energized, her shoulder bruised but otherwise painless from Ren’s bite. A quick shower and a glance in the bathroom mirror showed her face was a healthy color and her eyes were brighter. She buzzed. She was alive. Ren loved her, and she was reeling from it.
Joey was waiting for her beside a much larger beast. His quad was the adult version, and looked bulkier and more threatening with its black paintwork and glowing wolf eyes on the front fenders. Isabelle approached, unsure if this was a good idea after all.
“It’s easy,” he said as soon as she was settled on the seat. “Look. Clutch. Brake. And this little lever here lets you change gears, and if you need to reverse use this lever here.”
“Okay.”
“Oh, and the lights don’t work, but you won’t need them.”
It seemed simple enough. She circled the yard a few times, becoming more and more confident while Joey worked on the wiring for Mouse’s horn.
“Are we ready to go now?” Mouse had been champing at the bit to get under way. Now that Isabelle looked semi-competent, she was anxious for their adventure to begin.
“It depends where you’re taking me, Mouse,” Isabelle answered. “Nowhere dangerous…or too steep.” Considering they were perched on the slope of a valley, maybe that was a silly request. “Or where we reverse a lot.”
“I’m gonna show you the biggest tree in the whole world!”
“Wow. That I’d love to see.”
“It is not the biggest tree in the whole world,” Joey said. Isabelle dropped him a wink and he brightened that they shared a joke.
“It’s only about a mile and a half away. It’s not like an expedition,” he said.
“It is so,” Mouse piped up, outraged at being contradicted. “It’s an expedition to the biggest tree in the whole forest, so there.”
“If it’s half as big as your butt, then it ain’t far off.” Joey gurgled with laughter at his joke. Mouse stuck her tongue out at him and turned her attention on Isabelle.
“You ready? Follow me.” And she took off with a long, loud beep, not waiting to see if Isabelle was ready or not.
“Hey! Wait up.” Jenna came out of the cookhouse waving frantically. Isabelle waited as she approached with a small satchel. “I made you a picnic of sorts, considering it’s far from picnicking weather. I packed a few cans of soda, some beef sandwiches, and a flask of hot soup.”
“What a great idea. Thank you, Jenna.” Isabelle shrugged the straps over her shoulders.
“Make sure she eats something. She gets too excited and forgets.” Jenna nodded in the direction Mouse had taken. A loud series of beeps said Mouse had realized Isabelle was not right behind her as ordered.
“I’ll do my best.” With a huge smile, Isabelle released the brake and took off slowly after Mouse. Her smile remained for a long time. These little instances of kindness and inclusion made her feel more and more welcome.
Mouse was waiting for her around the next bend. She sat revving her quad at a branch in the trail. When she saw Isabelle catching up, she took off again along a different track from the one Isabelle and Ren had taken to the river. This track went east and kept high, while the other went down to the river and the hatchery lodge.
On the higher track the views were spectacular, and Isabelle would have dearly loved to find a place to dismount and enjoy them. Mouse was unconcerned with the panorama and pressed on at a daredevil pace Isabelle found hard to keep up with.
After about a mile a clearing appeared. It was big enough for a large vehicle to swing around in, and from the look of the cut-up ground, it was in frequent use. Isabelle scrambled to locate her horn and beeped a few times to catch Mouse’s attention before tucking her quad in off the track. She dismounted and stretched, taking in the wonderful view down into the heart of the valley.
“What’s wrong?” Mouse pulled up beside her.
“I’m old, and the trail’s bumpy.”
“You got numb bum.” Mouse glared at the offending body part.
“Let’s have a soda break.” Isabelle reached into the knapsack. Perhaps a cold drink would cool Mouse’s heels. “It’s not like we’re having a race.”
Mo
use’s eyes lit up. “Can we? Later? Joey always races me and I always win. And it’s not because he lets me or anything, it’s because he sucks.”
“As long as you give me a head start.”
“Deal.” Mouse leapt from her bike and popped the soda can.
“It’s beautiful up here.” Isabelle sighed. Mouse responded with loud slurping and a small burp.
“’Scuse me.”
Isabelle wandered over to the edge of the clearing to peep into the surrounding woods and found the start of a well-trodden trail. It was narrow enough for one person to move along it and dipped steeply until it disappeared from view altogether.
“Where does that go?” she asked Mouse.
“To the skinning hole.”
Isabelle pulled a face at the ugly name. Mouse obliged her with an explanation.
“It’s where Ren wants the carcasses skinned. No smellies are allowed near the farm. It brings in other animals.”
“Ah.” It made sense to Isabelle. The clearing must have been created so deer carcasses could be carted in, skinned and prepped off-site, and then transported back to Jenna’s cold room for storage. That surprised her. From the coagulated blood on the cold store floor, Isabelle assumed the meat had been prepared there.
“Can we take a look?” she asked. Mouse shook her head.
“Ren won’t like it. I’m not allowed to go there. Someone has to be with me.”
“I’m with you.”
“Pffh. Not you. One of the others.” Mouse guffawed. “Well…maybe you later. But not now,” she added more seriously.
“Is it scary? Is that why you can’t go there?”
“Nah. It’s because I can’t skin yet. Noah’s gonna show me when I’m older. He’s our best skinner. Next to Ren. Ren showed Noah how to do it first. She showed Joey and Patrick, too, but they suck. Especially Patrick. He sucks at everything. His hands shake all the time.”
“Okay.” Isabelle was dubious. The explanation was a little garbled and hard to follow. Mouse stood back and gave her a look of great consideration. Finally coming to a decision, she smiled slyly.
“I’ll show you if you want, but you can’t tell Ren. I been before, but I swore to Joey I’d tell no one.”
“I’m not a snitcher.” Isabelle acted offended. She did want to see the skinning hole; she wanted to see all of Ren’s valley, whether it was fry channels, big trees, or hunting places like this.
“Okay, but you gotta do what I say.” Mouse bristled with importance.
Aha, the truth comes out, Little Miss Bossy Boots. Isabelle hid a smile and fell in behind Mouse as she trudged through the undergrowth down the steep embankment. The smell caught her first, and she realized that was what had first intrigued her in the clearing. Without being fully aware of it, she had been lured in by the gamey odor. Thank goodness it was winter and the outdoors was like a walk-in freezer. In spring and summer this place must stink to high heaven.
“Told you it was boring. No meat left.”
Mouse was right. It was a disappointment. The trail stopped at the edge of a large, cleared hollow in the forest floor. The soil was uneven and heaped all around, giving the impression of a small crater surrounded by shallow graves. Bones lay scattered across the center. Isabelle poked at one with her boot. It was covered in large gnaw marks. Other bones lay splintered nearby. Some huge animals come here to scavenge.
Isabelle shifted uneasily. Her skin crawled, and she glanced around. “It’s spooky here. Like we’re being watched.”
“There’s always eyes in the forest. I feel it all the time.” Mouse looked around unconcerned, so Isabelle dismissed the notion. She kicked a bone at her foot. It was the foreleg of a deer; the hoof was still attached. Isabelle frowned. The deer hanging in Jenna’s locker had their forelegs missing. This must be where they dismembered them. Why not butcher the carcass in the comfort and convenience of that wonderful kitchen? It could hardly be less hygienic than doing it here in the woods.
“Yawn. Boring. Let’s go.” Mouse handed over her empty pop can and headed back. Isabelle gave up. What did she expect from a nine-year-old souped up on sugary drinks? She stashed their soda cans in her backpack and took one more look around. The feeling of being watched returned. She felt cold and vulnerable all at the same time, as if the surrounding trees oozed malice like sap. It coated the pores of her skin and left her feeling choked and poisoned. Unable to shake the feeling of unease, she slung the bag over her shoulder and hurried after Mouse.
“The Big Tree is this way. Race you.” Mouse took off at top speed again, leaving Isabelle in her dust. She swung her leg over her quad when something caught her eye in the weeds on the far edge of the clearing. She couldn’t quite make it out, but the sheen and texture looked so out of place that she dismounted to take a closer look.
The brushwood had been flattened. Tree branches were snapped at odd angles and the earth was heavily scored, as if a huge object had been dragged or pushed toward the edge of the clearing. The path of destruction ceased where the edge gave way to a sudden drop. Something big had been moved here recently. Something very big, that squashed everything before it.
Isabelle stooped to pull on the piece of silver plastic that had caught her eye. It poked out from under a flattened bush, covered with melting snow. The plastic was brittle and broke apart as she wedged it free. Isabelle stood stunned with part of a car fender in her hand. What an odd thing to find. She doubted Ren would use the valley as a dump for old vehicles. How had this trashed piece of fender got here?
Her stomach coiled into a sick knot. She’d had an accident, and she hadn’t found out exactly where yet. Ren had alluded to a branch road off Highway 20. Not by any stretch of the imagination could this be called a branch road. It was too great a leap of logic to conclude it was her car. She couldn’t afford to be fanciful. She needed hard facts, and the best way to do that was go down the slope and examine the area.
A distant beeping told her Mouse had realized she was in a solo race. She was such a forceful, demanding little madam. So like Ren in many ways.
Isabelle set the piece of plastic back where she’d found it. It was as a marker for her mystery. Something was not sitting well with her. She would come back at the first opportunity and investigate.
Another long beep made her scurry for her quad. She had a race to lose. A last look over her shoulder helped her to memorize the exact spot with its telltale marker. Isabelle stepped on the gas and chased after Mouse, determined to see this big, big tree.
Chapter Thirteen
The Big Tree was a sight to behold. Mouse made Isabelle march around it with her two times just to be sure how big it really was. Then they paced around it again, measuring it with their steps, thirty-nine of Isabelle’s and fifty-two of Mouse’s, though she admitted cheating a little and taking extra-long ones. Then they sat on a large rock under the lower branches and ate the picnic Jenna had made them, thankful for the warm soup.
“This is the biggest tree in the whole valley,” Mouse informed her between bites. “Ren says the Nuxalk used to worship it hundreds of years ago. They hung their wolf skins from it so the wolf ghosts would guard the valley, and that’s why they come back at night and howl.”
“Does the howling scare you?”
“Nope.”
Isabelle was amused at this daylight bravado from a girl who’d sworn there were monsters under her bed last night. The howling unnerved Isabelle more than a little. Mouse took a massive bite out of her sandwich, her cheeks bulging. Her lustiness and high energy kept calling Isabelle’s mind back to Ren. Was she like this as a child? Isabelle would have loved to have seen photos of the young Ren.
“The Nuxalk are the indigenous community, right?” She brought her mind back to the present.
“Yeah. But Ren says the wolves have been here longer,” Mouse said with her mouth full.
They were high up, near the lip of the valley. There was more wildlife on display than in the denser woodland farther down
the slopes. Red-winged blackbirds squabbled in the mighty branches above them, and several feet away a nervous shrew scurried back to its nest.
“The thaw’s waking ’em up early.” Mouse nodded sagely at the disappearing tail. “They’ll grab what they can from their food stores before the next big snow.”
“You know a lot about the wildli—What’s that!” A distant rumble startled Isabelle. Mouse looked over her shoulder.
“It’s the logging trucks. They come along the top road whenever they can.”
“Logging trucks? Where are they going?” Between float planes and logging trucks, Isabelle felt they might as well be on a traffic intersection. So much for the rural isolation Ren purported they were living in.
“They don’t come often. Only if the Black Knife camp is open for cedar. And this time of year they hardly move at all.” Mouse shrugged.
“Where do they go?”
“Dunno. The log harbor at Bella Coola, maybe?”
The rumble of the giant truck engine died away and Isabelle became aware of the silence and gloom around them. The birds had taken their noisy fight elsewhere, and even in the early hours of afternoon the light was already becoming muddy. She shivered.
“Time to pack up and head back, I think.”
“Race you.” Mouse was on her feet in a flash, brimful of energy. Isabelle was about to refuse when a thought struck her. When would she be out this way again, or get the loan of a quad to explore the valley for herself? Not anytime soon, she reckoned. She was growing more and more uneasy at the vagueness of Ren’s plans to help her leave. Even Noah assumed she’d be around for summer picnics.
“But it’s not a fair race. You know the trail,” she said.
Mouse screwed her face up. “So?”
“So you have the advantage. Instead, you should take the long way home and let me go back the way we came. You’re quicker anyway, so it’s more even.”
“Okay, then.” Mouse brightened at the challenge. “I’ll go along the river road. That’s miles longer, but I’ll still be first. Ready, steady, go!” And she was off, leaving Isabelle with all the picnic packing to do.