by Eve Langlais
“The following of the mouse is more symbolic. In other words, he sees something living and travels to it, leading him out of the desert and into the ice fields. Which obviously don’t exist since there aren’t any bordering the Siberian dunes.”
“If you don’t believe in the mouse, then does that mean I can have them for breakfast?”
Since she was the woman who had admitted to eating bugs, he feared she wasn’t joking. “Do you scramble chunks with your eggs?”
“Now you’re just being weird. They make great stock for an all-day simmering stew. Start at breakfast and it’s ready by dinner.”
“That’s nasty.”
“Only if you don’t rinse them first.”
He had no reply to that. None. “I’ll stick to my Mini-Wheats in the morning and nachos at night I think.”
“It’s a good thing I’ve seen you eat meat, or I’d start getting worried I was traveling with an herbivore.”
“The horror,” he mocked.
“Seriously. The vegan movement worries me. Why would anyone ever want meatless meat? It’s just wrong. So wrong,” she lamented.
“Spoken like a true carnivore.”
“You have no idea,” she muttered low enough he almost didn’t hear it.
The train lurched into motion, and she finally pulled her selfie stick close enough to replay her video.
“What were you taping?”
“People boarding after us. I recorded it to a cloud where Melly can run it and see what our facial recognition program picks up.”
The reply stumped him for a second. “You use facial rec?” That was high-end shit.
“We have all kinds of tools. Remember that next time you try to run.” She tapped the screen on her phone and swiped. Had she seen something?
“Do you think someone followed us?”
“If those hired to find you are half decent at what they do, then yes. After all, they’ve been pretty accurate as to where and when to hit so far.”
“A little too accurate. I’m beginning to wonder if maybe my sister’s hubby is trying to get rid of me.” Because she was the only person he’d talked to. While he knew she wouldn’t betray him, he couldn’t vouch the same for Lawrence. That man had secrets and a side he’d wager Charlie didn’t know about. A dark side.
“If he wanted to get rid of you, he’d do it himself. Lawrence isn’t a pussy that way.”
“Know him well, do you?” he almost snarled, only to realize at the last second his anger stemmed from jealousy.
“Since I was a kid. He’s a cousin of a cousin.”
“And is Lawrence the one calling the shots?” He still didn’t have a clear idea of who Nora worked for.
“He’s not my boss.”
“But your boss is the one buying the treasure if we find it?”
“Aren’t you just curious like a cat? That’s enough questions for now. We should get some sleep. Big day coming up.” Then she proceeded to do just that, leaning back in her seat with her eyes closed.
Peter did his best to join her, but as if landing back in Russia were a trigger, every time he closed his eyes, he was back in that basement. Dug into the very ground itself, the walls were braced by wood and concrete blocks. The floor was pure dirt and rock.
Irina—an old lady who’d somehow managed to kidnap a full-grown man—kept him in that basement, locked in a cage. Too short to stand. Barely wide enough to lie down.
She took his clothes. His identity. She didn’t speak to him in English, and no amount of pleading aided his cause. She’d come with a plate of food in the morning, noon, and night. Hosed him off with freezing cold water at her whim.
He hated the icy showers because they were the prelude to the true horror.
Irina would clomp up those wooden steps, leaving his cage unlocked. The first time, he was filled with such hope. He’d exited those bars and run for the nearest basement window. Nailed shut, and even if he could break the glass, the bars were too skinny for him to wiggle through.
And that was when he heard the basement door open. She must have remembered she forgot to lock him in. Surely, he could overpower one little old lady. He ran for the stairs, only to skid to a stop.
He’d have sworn the tiger on the steps grinned at him. By the time he crawled, sobbing, into his cage, trying to escape teeth, claws, and, worst of all, that raspy tongue, he was half dead.
Irina nursed his wounds, and two days later, out came the hose again. Followed by her pet tiger. Repeat.
Until he finally tricked the old lady. She’d come down and put his plate on the floor. He didn’t move. When she returned at lunch, his meal was untouched. He lay in the same spot.
She sniffed at him. Poked him with her cane. He didn’t move. Didn’t flinch when she jabbed harder.
She muttered something in Russian before opening the cage. He hoped she wouldn’t hear his thumping pulse.
She reached for him, and he moved, shoving his shoulder into her, pushing her off balance. Then he scurried for the open door and slammed it shut behind him.
Locked it. Faced the old lady, whose eyes glowed with fury. And when she snarled, her huge teeth reminded him of another set.
He fled. Ran like a wild thing into the woods, flinching at every scrape of a branch, expecting claws. Whimpering when he thought he saw striped fur between leaves.
The shame of his terror startled him awake, and he caught Nora watching him.
“You having a nightmare?”
“Was it the screaming that gave it away?” He couldn’t help the sarcasm.
“What was it about?”
“Nothing.”
“The nothing you claim you don’t remember?” she asked, a little too astute.
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t. I’m curious. You obviously remember more than you claim.”
“I’d rather not. You’ve seen my scars.”
“And? You healed.”
He eyed her. “It hurt.” That seemed obvious to him.
She snorted. “So do a lot of things. You have nightmares about all your boo-boos?”
How dare she downplay his trauma? “I almost died.”
“But didn’t. You going to be a drama llama about it the rest of your life?”
“You’re annoying,” he growled.
“So tell me to shut up.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me,” she said with a smirk.
There was only one way he could think of that might actually work. Before he could tell himself it was a bad idea, he leaned forward and kissed her.
He meant to give her a quick peck, enough to shock her into silence, only the light embrace turned into a lingering touch that resulted in him kneeling in front of her. Her hands cupped his face, devouring his mouth. Their tongues got involved. Their breathing turned erratic, and next thing he knew his hands were up her shirt, cupping her breasts, rubbing thumbs over her nipples.
He shoved up her shirt and let his mouth follow where his fingers dared, sucking at the nipple through her bra. In the back of his mind, a part of him screamed he was acting irrational. But there wasn’t enough blood left in his head to care.
She was the one to wiggle her pants down enough she could kick them off and then spread her legs for him. Short, golden curls tight to her mound, lithe thighs, and glistening pink goodness.
It was wild and crazy. He pushed her legs so that her knees were bent, her heels on the seat, exposing her to him. He took full advantage, lapping at her, tasting her honeyed sweetness, loving how she panted as he flicked her swollen nub. He groaned when she grabbed his hair and hissed, “Finger me while you lick.”
With pleasure. One finger, two, he made it really tight with three, feeling her clench around him, her hips bouncing a bit in time to the strokes of his tongue. The spasm as she came had him moaning.
She rode his hand, her climax an ongoing ripple that had her gasping, “Yes, yes, now fuck me.”
Oh, hell yes, he wa
nted to fuck her. He rose on his knees, unbuckled his pants. His hard dick sprang forward, ready to bury itself, when there was a knock.
He ignored it and rubbed the tip of his dick against her.
But she wasn’t eying him with passion anymore. Instead, she eyed the door.
The handle to their locked compartment rattled.
What the fuck? He stood and tucked himself back in as she scrambled into her pants. There was a thud against the door.
“Someone’s trying to get in.” He couldn’t help his incredulous note.
“Guess we were followed after all.”
“What do we do?” Because their options seemed limited to two things—hope they didn’t break open the door, or take them out first. He rummaged in his knapsack for a knife, whereas Nora slung her satchel on and stood by the window.
Thump.
“Why the fuck are they still chasing us?” he muttered.
“Get your stuff together. We’re leaving.”
A good idea. He stuffed his coat into the knapsack and put on his shoes. Only to then wonder where they were going. The train was still moving. To exit they’d have to get past the person knocking.
Thud.
The train slowed, and he swayed on his feet. They must be hitting a curve.
“This is where we get off,” Nora announced.
He would have questioned, but she smashed the window. Like literally took it out. The cabin filled with a cold, brisk wind as the train kept hurtling down the tracks.
“We can’t jump off,” he yelled even as the door rattled some more.
“You got a better idea?” Nora stood framed by the window.
Outside it was dark, meaning he could only imagine the countryside flying by. He felt the chill bite of the air and wondered if he was insane.
And then remembered that, according to the doctors, he was.
“Any advice on not dying?” he asked as he heaved himself from the door and dove for the window.
“Tuck and roll.”
Chapter Eleven
Being a cat, Nora landed on two feet with a run that slowed. While her human partner hit the ground with his shoulder and then tumbled before stopping face first on the ground.
“Ugh,” his clumsy carcass groaned.
“You’re alive!” she declared in case he wasn’t sure.
“Why can’t I have a normal life?” Peter rolled onto his back then heaved to his knees. “Fuck me, I am getting too old for this. Let’s move before they come after us.”
“Good news. No one’s following.”
“While I like your optimism, they probably jumped too.” He grimaced as he rolled his joints, and she hoped he’d not busted his newly fixed ribs.
“I didn’t pay him enough to do that.” The truth slipped out.
It didn’t go unnoticed by Peter. “Wait a second. What do you mean ‘pay’?”
“Well, I had a feeling you might balk at the whole jumping off a train at night thing, so I hired some incentive.”
“You faked an attack to get me to leap? You’re fucking crazy,” he yelled. “I could have died. Or broken something.”
“But didn’t. I chose the spot where the train always slows for a curve, and look, soft, sandy landing.” She nudged the ground with her shoe.
“Soft for who?” was his incredulous reply.
“I didn’t have any problem.” The surefire thing to rile a man’s pride.
“Because I swear, you’re part cat.”
“Fifty-fifty at least,” she said, knowing he’d think she jested.
He brushed himself off. “You should have just told me your plan instead of lying about it.”
“Don’t be so grouchy. I get it, you’re feeling a little blue balled. Not my fault you have the worst timing when it comes to making a move on me. I mean, five minutes sooner and we would have been done. Heck, depending on your speed, it might have been less.”
“I— Fuck! You… Jeezus. Goddamn.” He kept muttering as he stalked away from her.
“Don’t be mad,” she called after him.
“I’m not mad.”
“Would you feel better if we had sex right now?” she offered and was ready to strip down if needed to help him vent his frustration.
“No.”
“Now that’s a lie,” she stated as she caught up. “We both know coming feels good.”
“Maybe I don’t want to come with you.”
“Who else you going to come for? Hunh?” Oops. A little jealousy spilled out.
“My hand if that’s all that’s available.” He kept stomping.
She followed, letting him work off his anger. Maybe she shouldn’t have hidden her plan from him and instead treated him like an equal. Problem being they weren’t equal. She could literally break him in half. She might also have to kill him if he posed a threat to the Pride.
Mate him.
Her damned feline had one solution to fix it all. The one thing she wouldn’t do. Get tied down. Ugh. No. Never.
As they went over their first hump of sand, the starlight and moon gave them enough illumination to see the dunes, but no water. “Since you seem to be marching with purpose, I assume you know where you’re going,” Nora hollered.
“Nope. And neither did the hero.” Whose name she’d yet to actually discover. Probably something unpronounceable.
“There was water in the picture. Maybe we should look for that.”
“What if the climate shift or another natural event wiped it out?” He cast her a glance. “I’ve been studying the maps. Trying to find a way the route makes any sense. But the dunes don’t connect to ice. and the ice isn’t touching the volcanoes.”
“Does the journey have to make sense?”
“Yes, because it doesn’t take him weeks to travel to them all.”
“Maybe he had a fast horse.”
“And we’re wandering around on foot.” He paused and eyed her, hands on his hips. Lips pinched. Frame taut with anger. “What were you thinking exactly when you decided we should leap out into the wild unknown with hardly any supplies?”
“That we would find a mouse and follow it.”
He stared at her. Said nothing for a second. Just stared.
“What? It’s in the book.”
“Any mouse is probably long dead.”
“Unless it can live eternally or have children passing on the torch.” She had a reply for everything.
“You do realize you are literally talking about finding a mouse. To show us a secret passage. Fuck me.” He rubbed his face. “What was I thinking? This is nuts.”
“But fun,” she stated as she finally drew level with him. “Maybe we won’t find a thing. Does it really matter when getting there is the best part?”
“You’re different than other people in how you see things.”
“I am.” No point in denying it.
“You had us jump off a moving train to hike in the desert.”
“I did.”
“You do realize that kind of crazy shit really should be done only if high on acid.”
“I’m sure we could find something we could smoke.” The effects weren’t long-lived for a shifter, but it could be done.
“Probably not the best idea given we have limited munchies. I’d rather find somewhere warm to hunker for the night.” He rummaged in his bag and pulled out his coat then cursed. “My fucking gloves are on the train.”
“You shouldn’t have strewn your stuff everywhere.”
“You should have told me I wouldn’t have time to check for loose ends.” He glared right back.
She grinned. “If they get cold, let me know. I have somewhere warm you can stick them.”
His expression…oh it was sultry deliciousness. She couldn’t help but kiss him. Quickly, because they really shouldn’t spend too much time in this place forbidden to the Pride. Something about a treaty. Could cause a diplomatic shifter issue. Blah blah.
“If it gets any colder, we could be in trouble
,” he noted.
“We could always dig a burrow and snuggle for heat.”
“I am not earth-worming it for the night.”
“Then we walk.”
He sighed. “You couldn’t have had some dirt bikes tossed off by your hired goon?”
“Want me to play you a violin?”
Rather than reply, he bundled as best he could, and then he removed a layer and made her wear it despite her protests, apparently not liking the thickness of her garments. She didn’t need it but had to admit his worry for her was cute.
They moved off, the night wind brisk and whipping small grains of sand. Even she could admit it wasn’t pleasant walking. But she kept that to herself.
A few dunes later, she couldn’t help but notice his frosting breath, his hands tucked into his sleeves. She’d not accounted for the fact he didn’t stay as warm as her.
The rocky outcrop partially buried by sand proved a perfect spot to say, “Why don’t we shelter here for a bit and warm up.”
“I like that plan,” he huffed, dumping his pack in the sheltered vee of the stones. He pulled out a can and lit it. By the light of it, she could read the label. Camping Fire in a Can. To the point and practical in a place with no wood. Also, very nerdy.
“You remembered to bring gel to burn but not a spare set of gloves?” she said.
“I had gloves. I was a little distracted.”
Yeah. Distracted by her. The headiness went to the spot between her legs.
The tingle she’d felt on and off since he’d made her come returned. She wished they could have had a few more minutes on that train. That they had the time now. Alas, duty called.
“I’m going to look around. Back in a few minutes.”
Still crouching, he reached to grab her ankle. “Stay here. We shouldn’t split up. You might not find me again in the dark.”
“I’d find you. I’ll follow my nose.”
“Great to know I stink that bad,” he drawled.
“How about I just follow the light back so don’t snuff it.”
“Maybe you should take it with you?” he offered.
“No thanks. Because then you’d see what I was really doing because that was me trying to delicately say I need to tinkle.” Not entirely a lie.
“Oh. I kind of do too. Maybe I should go out there.”