Ghosts of Averoigne

by Krista Wolf

  “Your turn.”

  Nine

  Kara lay stretched out, cat-like across the bed. The coolness of the air stippled her skin. It drew her areola tight, made her nipples hard as she arched her back and groaned.

  Down between her legs, Logan had his talented tongue buried in her pussy.

  It was everything. It was nothing. It was the culmination of a thousand lovesick fantasies, of all the times she’d wished he’d come back. All of it, all at once, as she writhed against him.

  Remember this moment, the little voice told her. You’re trading your sanity for this.

  She didn’t care. Kara’s hand sifted through his thick dark hair, pulling and pushing him against her sex. Her fingernails scratched his scalp. Her hands rolled into fists, clenching him tightly. Shoving him into her, even as she bucked her hips back against his face.

  Holy shit…

  Logan’s tongue was as magical as she remembered it. He might’ve even have picked up a few tricks. Kara didn’t want to think about that part; where he’d learned them, who he’d been with. All that mattered was right here, right now, and all the things he was doing to her body.

  Holy fucking shit…

  Her second orgasm was coming. Kara could feel the rising heat in her belly, spreading outward, down toward her legs. The first one had been so explosive, she’d almost felt disconnected from her body. This one promised to be even bigger… more powerful.

  Suddenly he stopped devouring her. She gasped as she felt his fingers and tongue withdraw, his body sliding upward. Logan lay flat against her now, positioning himself along her body. He used one leg to push her knees apart. Wedged himself between her outstretched thighs…

  “Go slow,” Kara whispered. “Please…”

  He stroked a lock of hair from her face and nodded.

  She bit her lip as she felt it; the head of his big cock pressed up against her. He was rock hard again, and Logan had his hand around the base of his shaft, holding it for control. He rubbed it up and down a few times, through her outer lips, before pushing the head inside. It parted her easily. She was absolutely drenched.

  “OHHH!”

  Kara gasped as he pressed forward and sank into her. Her legs spread wide for him. It felt incredible, being filled by him again… being stretched from the inside as his tight, muscular body leaned into hers. Logan’s arms were two steel bars, positioned on either side of her. She locked her hands over his biceps to control the speed and ferocity of his upcoming thrusts.

  “Remember,” she said. “I haven’t done this in a—”

  Ohhhhh…

  He pushed in… all the way in. The last few inches rode the sweet edge between pain and pleasure, causing her body to stiffen beneath him. But only for a moment.

  “Easy,” he smiled down at her. His balls rested against her ass now. They felt heavy and full. “I might’ve done this before.”

  Kara laughed softly. The movement cause her body to squeeze him pleasantly inside her. “You mean we,” she corrected. “We might’ve.”

  Logan’s grin was as handsome as she remembered it. “Yeah. Maybe a few times.”

  More than a few…

  Kara sighed as he began gliding slowly in and out of her pussy. She thought back to their time together; all the things they did, even the places they did it. It had been her first time in Paris, much less the sewers beneath the Rue Montmartre. Her first time witnessing an actual paranormal event.

  Your first time screwing in a bathtub, the voice reminded her. Your first time fucking on a public balcony. Your first time being with—

  “Mmmmmmm…”

  He was face to face with her again, chest to chest. His body was warm and tight and deliciously strong. Kara’s hands slid down over his hard back, past the curved lower part she’d always loved so much. They settled on his ass. It was firm and supple, clenching and unclenching as he pumped in and out of her. She curled her fingers into his flesh, urging him deeper.

  “I forgot how fucking good you feel,” Logan growled.

  “Sucks for you.”

  Now it was his turn to laugh. He began screwing her harder, faster, gyrating into her at the end of every thrust. Kara’s brain screamed with pleasure. Her body responded in turn, bucking back to meet him, taking him deeper into her body.

  They locked eyes, his brown into her blue. There was meaning there, a deep-seeded connection beneath the lust. Or at least she thought so.

  You’re being foolish.

  Kara held his gaze anyway, unwilling to look away. She’d take him all the way to orgasm like this if she needed to. She’d look into his eyes as he finished inside her; watch the desire burn even hotter in those last smoldering moments, right before he came…

  But Logan squeezed his eyes shut. His face twisted into a mask of agony and ecstasy.

  He was trying to hold back.

  “Do it.”

  Kara’s voice was soft yet firm. She dug her nails even deeper into the flesh of his pounding ass.

  “Go on,” she said. “Let it go.”

  Logan groaned, then his mouth opened and he roared like a lion. It was almost as loud as the banshee that had screeched at her earlier on.

  “Put it in me,” Kara said wickedly. “Dump it in my pussy…”

  “UNGHHH!”

  A smile of satisfaction crossed her face as he began shooting inside her. Logan’s cock thumped hard against her innermost folds, rhythmically splashing the walls of her womb with his hot, sticky come.

  “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh FUCK…”

  His orgasm triggered her own. She’d known that it would. Kara’s climax had lingered at the very edge of her mind, ever since he’d stopped going down on her. Now it released itself in a flood of ecstasy and endorphins, her mouth opening in a perfect ‘O’ as she arched her face toward the ceiling.

  She could feel herself pulsing hard, spasming around him. Kara squeezed tighter with her hands, wrapping her legs around his flanks to draw him in. Logan kept coming and coming. So did she. It was absolute nirvana. The pinnacle of everything.

  He held for a minute afterward, his body flexed around her like a protective steel cage. Then he rolled to the side. Logan’s come dribbled from her pussy, running down her ass and into the bed. Slowly she dragged a finger through it, then used that finger to rub the sensitive edges of her swollen clit…

  The tide of her orgasm slowly rolled out. Guilt flooded in.

  You’re an asshole, Kara.

  For a long time, neither of them spoke. They drew the blankets back around their necks, creating a cocoon of warmth against the chill of the room.

  A room that now reeked of sex.

  “Goodnight Logan,” Kara said tiredly. She rolled over to face the wall, unsure if he’d even answered her.

  Almost instantly she dropped off to sleep.

  Ten

  Kara woke late. She wasn’t a big fan of waking late, but at this point there wasn’t much to be done about it.

  Shit…

  She rolled over. The bed was empty, except for her. She was glad for that at least. There would be no awkwardness, no walk of shame. Wherever Logan had gone, he’d left without waking her. He’d also had enough sense to close the window, because the room was once again warm and comfy.

  Kara pulled back the blankets, stood up, and stretched — all gloriously naked. She retrieved her crumpled panties from the floor, then made her way into the bathroom. As she emptied her bladder, she eyed the tiny shower suspiciously.

  Where’d he go?

  Wherever it was, she didn’t want to miss anything. If her partner were already working, it meant she was already behind.

  Kara grabbed her toothbrush and jumped in with both feet, enduring the lukewarm water that turned colder as time went on. She soaped herself up with one hand and brushed her teeth with the other. It was awful. Kara hated cold showers more than anything, especially after sex. If there were a hell, she once thought, cold showers would still be included as daily punishme
nt.

  Last night…

  Last night had obviously been a mistake. She knew that now. Hell, she knew it then, too, but it still hadn’t stopped her.

  You had a moment of weakness, Kara told herself. That ghost-woman screaming in your face? She threw you off guard.

  It was a point she couldn’t really argue with. Since joining the Hallowed Order, Kara had seen some incredible things. Some wondrous and even downright frightening things. But nothing that had interacted with her as directly — and jarringly — as last night.

  Long ringlets of dark hair lay plastered against her shoulders as she washed the soap and shampoo from her body. The shower was small, and cold, but at least the water pressure was good.

  Logan…

  Despite trying to avoid the subject, her mind eventually wandered over to the elephant in the room. Kara gave it a lot of thought, mulling the whole thing over in her mind. She tried to rationalize what happened, in both directions, while finishing up her shower.

  Sleeping with Logan was a mistake, but that’s all it was. They’d gotten stuck in a room together, through no fault of their own. They’d shared a bed together. They’d fucked. Big deal.

  Get over it.

  Kara recalled the nineteen-year old version of herself as rather dramatic. But now, at twenty-five, she was a woman. She wasn’t some lovesick child who couldn’t handle rejection. Or at least what she perceived to be rejection.

  “You’re here to do a job,” she told herself out loud. “Now start acting like a professional.”

  Xiomara would be proud. Then again, Xiomara would also put her shoe in Kara’s ass if she knew what happened last night. Logan’s too.

  But hey, didn’t you beg her to send you alone?

  Yes, she certainly had. That little nugget of recollection made her feel better about the whole thing. In fact, Xiomara was the one who’d put them together in the first place. It seemed strange now, that in all the Order, the one person she’d be paired up with for this assignment was Logan. Logan, who’d only just arrived at Blackstone Manor. Who’d been summoned there specifically to go with her.

  Did she plan the whole thing?

  It was hard to say. Xiomara had impeccable foresight, and Kara had seen her do some impressive things. Either way, Logan was a good investigator. Skilled and thorough. She’d seen what he could do firsthand, and for that at least, she had respect for him.

  But for now… the Averoigne.

  She decided right then and there to forget last night. To push it aside, as a professional — not to mention an adult — should.

  Stepping out of her very unfulfilling shower, Kara toweled off and dressed quickly. There were answers downstairs, and she meant to have them.

  But there was coffee too, and that would be her first priority.

  Eleven

  Out in the hallway, the old hotel was bustling with activity. The main elevator was full as she passed it, so Kara headed toward what had been labeled — at least on her hotel map — as the ‘grand staircase’.

  She turned a sharp corner… and bumped straight into Logan.

  “Whoa!”

  He was holding a cardboard tray, with two full coffees lodged at opposite ends. He stopped short so abruptly Kara could hear the liquid sloshing around inside.

  “Hey,” he said simply.

  “Hey.”

  There was an awkward pause, and then Kara took her coffee. She sipped it and winced.

  “Black, no sugar?” he said with a raised eyebrow. But Kara shook her head.

  “Sugar, no cream.”

  Another awkward pause.

  “Must’ve been your last coffee buddy,” Kara said smartly.

  “Yeah, right.”

  They headed back in the direction he came. Halfway down the hallway, a large OUT OF ORDER sign had been placed in front of the landing for the glass elevator. Kara couldn’t help but smirk.

  “Radcliffe up yet?”

  “Not yet,” Logan replied. “His office is locked. I was about to check out breakfast.”

  Just the mention of food made Kara’s stomach rumble. It occurred to her she hadn’t eaten since before their car ride. “Breakfast is good.”

  They jogged down the plushly-carpeted main staircase, coffees held high. As the reached the bottom of the landing, Kara stopped.

  “Hey, look at this.”

  The banister of the staircase ended in an incredibly-detailed marble statue of a winged woman. She was strikingly beautiful, except for a big mouthful of broken teeth. Kara stared at the statue for a moment, with an exaggerated sense of curiosity.

  “Do you know the legend of that statue?” she asked.

  Logan peered back at it and shook his head.

  “It’s said that if your put your finger in the statue’s mouth, and it doesn’t bite you, you’ll have long life and good health.”

  “Really?”

  “Uh huh.”

  Her companion stared back at her shrewdly. “And if it does bite?”

  Kara shrugged. “Then I guess you’re screwed.”

  They examined the statue together. It was hard to tell if the teeth were actually broken, or if they were sculpted that way. Except for the mouth, it really was quite beautiful. But the teeth made it downright creepy.

  Logan stepped up. He shot Kara a quick glance, then slowly inserted his finger just inside the statue’s mouth…

  “BOO!”

  Kara’s unexpected lunge made him nearly jump out of his skin! She laughed as the tip of his finger scraped painfully against the statue’s upper maw. Almost immediately he jammed it into his mouth.

  “You’re an asshole,” he told her. He pulled his finger out and checked it for blood.

  “That’s for making me ride that shitty elevator last night.”

  His expression looked almost wounded. “I didn’t make you do anything.” He paused for a moment. “And hey, I thought we were good after last night?”

  Kara shook her head slowly. “Last night never happened.”

  They passed into the lobby, which was already filled with guests. An ornate pair of double doors opened into the dining area. Kara led the way, following the scent of bacon and eggs.

  A frazzled-looking maitre‘ d assured them a table would be ready soon. Logan sat down, while Kara looked for a quick fix to her botched coffee situation.

  That wasn’t nice, you know.

  Yeah, she knew it. But she’d done it anyway. She did lots of things anyway. It was her thing.

  At some point you’ll need to stop acting like a—

  Kara froze. She blinked three times, then rubbed her eyes.

  Three tables away, a sharply-dressed man sat reading a newspaper. He was exceptionally tall, with long legs and olive skin. A pair of half-rimmed glasses rested high on the bridge of his nose…

  It can’t be.

  Kare drew closer, searching for the little details that would tell her she had the wrong person. Those details never came. Instead, the complete stranger’s features grew even more recognizable. Thick wavy hair. Dark stubble peppered over a cleft chin…

  “Jeremy?”

  The man looked up. His face registered instant shock and surprise before breaking into a forced smile. “Kara?”

  He stood up and leaned in, the two of them staring each other up and down for a moment. Awkwardly he hugged her.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” asked Kara. When he looked confused, she slid into the opposite seat and motioned for him to sit back down.

  “I— uh… wow.”

  They stared at each other over the table. The distance between them was only a few feet. It might as well have been miles.

  “Wow what?”

  “Xiomara told me she was sending help,” Jeremy began. “I just never thought—”

  “That it would be us?” Logan interjected. Now it was Kara’s turn to be startled as her companion pulled up the next empty chair He sank down beside her now, staring back at Jeremy.

  �
��Yeah,” Jeremy admitted. “I guess so.”

  Kara heaved a big, mournful sigh. You’re such an asshole, Xiomara.

  “Funny,” she said at last. “She told us the same thing.”

  They stared back at each other awkwardly, the three of them, like gunfighters waiting on the first move. It was Kara who broke the ice.

  “So… you get in last night?”

  Jeremy shook his head. “No. Been here for a bit already.”

  “What’s a bit?” asked Logan.

  There was a slight pause. “Three weeks.”

  “Three weeks!” Kara nearly bolted out of her chair. It was incomprehensible. Not only had the old woman refused to send her alone, but she’d also sent a third member of the Order… three weeks ahead of time?

  “Yeah,” Jeremy admitted. He lowered his voice. “Apparently this place is considered high priority right now. The Order sent me in to—”

  “Holy shit,” Kara breathed. She said it again to cement it. “Three weeks!”

  There was another pause, during which Jeremy downed a long pull of his own coffee. It only made Kara more desperate for her first cup.

  “I’m not sure I’m aware of you,” Logan said nodding across the table. “No offense.” He turned to face Kara. “Wanna fill me in on who this guy is?”

  Kara’s gaze dropped. If I have to.

  “This is Jeremy Manning,” she finally said. “Order archivist and historian. He’s a sensitive medium, with specialties in apparitional communication.”

  Jeremy nodded his agreement with what she was saying. Kara sighed before finishing.

  “He’s also sort of an ex boyfriend.”

  Twelve

  Kara was still grumbling as one of the hotel staff finally poured her a decent cup of coffee. She reached for the sugar. Leaned over Logan, rather than ask him to pass her the milk.

  The whole situation just sucked.

  Jeremy had actually been a good relationship. They’d dated nearly a year — a very solid year — during which they explored anything and everything together, including each other.

  Especially each other.

  They’d met at the Manor itself, both of them between assignments at the time. Kara was staying at the Blackstone, working on honing her retrocognitive skills. Jeremy was the recently-promoted star of a big success story. Apparently he’d been in the right place at the right time, and had captured sixty-two seconds worth of hi-resolution footage of a fully-interactive, anthropomorphic apparition.