Scented Lust

by Jacqueline Turner Banks

  “How did you get his password?”

  She smiled. “Let’s just say I’m a good guesser.”

  “Okay, Good Guesser, what’ve you got?”

  She clicked on the “sent” file, and then she clicked the last email sent. “This is it. See, it was posted Saturday morning.” She leaned to one side so he could read over her shoulder.

  The note said that the writer wanted her to meet him on Saturday afternoon in his office.

  “The dean left for Spain on Thursday. He might have some way to access this account, but unless there’s something about him that I don’t know, he could not have been prepared to meet her here on Saturday.”

  “And if she hadn’t been with me, she probably would have been checking her email in time to read that note.” He shuddered at the thought. No wonder the Sangsue hadn’t continued to pursue her at her apartment. They were killing high tech now.

  Leeana nodded. “That’s why she got a second message for the Monday meeting.” As she spoke, she clicked on the second sent message.

  “So what does this all mean?” he asked.

  “It means they’re here—they’ve infiltrated the campus. As you know, the true Sangsue can tolerate the daylight. I believe we have some on staff. Come on—I want to show you their house.”

  By the time they got back to Leeana’s car, she was wound-up in telling him some things he didn’t know about the Sangsue.

  “You guys have been doing such a good job that, a few years back, their numbers were down to less than two hundred worldwide.”

  “Wow. I didn’t know that.”

  “Not many do. It’s not the kind of thing they want to advertise.”

  He noticed they were stopping near one of those coffee shops that had popped up all over town. “I didn’t get a chance to get my mother’s milk today,” she said.

  “Interesting description; we are talking about coffee, right?”

  She smiled at him, and he found himself enjoying her company. The thought immediately made him wonder if Jordan was enjoying her time with Ian, and that thought gave him a pain in his chest.

  He realized that he’d subconsciously put women in two categories—other Dogon-Hunters and their otherworldly associates, or human women— that he evaluated in terms of sexuality. There were a few who fell outside of both classes, like his assistant, Jennie, but he was guilty of some serious stereotyping.

  He didn’t know if Leeana was planning to get the coffee to go or if she wanted to sit in the shop and drink it.

  “Let’s have it inside,” she said, almost as soon as the thought crossed his mind.

  He felt a wave of anger hit his face. The biggest problem he had with her reading his thoughts was the fact that he wasn’t getting anything, not a peep, from her. With other Hunters, they could both hear, and it seemed fairer.

  The face of the guy behind the counter lit up upon seeing her. “The usual?” he asked.

  Leeana nodded.

  He looked at Artest. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

  She handed him a credit card before he got a chance to offer.

  “Is that table all right?” she asked, nodding her head at a table by the window.

  “Sure.”

  He waited until she sat before he took his seat. He found himself wanting to establish some balance. He was feeling like a cheap date, and he didn’t like the feeling.

  “Artest, I’m going to tell you some things that need to remain between the two of us. The other Hunters will eventually get this information, but not until it’s time. Okay?”

  “No problem.”

  “I know this is a sensitive area, but it’s necessary for me to mention it.”

  He nodded.

  “As you know, when the Sangsue first followed the Travelers here, they found they were sterile in this environment. They couldn’t reproduce with each other or the humans.”

  He could see already where this was going, and the thought made him sick.

  “They continued to experiment and found they could reproduce with the Hunters. I should say we know of one case where that happened.”

  One case indeed. He nodded as he pictured his sister when she was carrying that creature’s child.

  “Of course they could ‘make’ others like them by exchanging blood, but those creatures, the hybrids, are sensitive to daylight, which puts them at a disadvantage in this world.”

  “To say the least,” he agreed. There is a special branch of Dogon-Hunters called Trackers who hunted the hybrids, but they couldn’t pay Artest enough to make him live in the shadows like a mole.

  “Hence the whole vampire legend. Apparently they were able to come up with a hybrid and Sangsue combination that wasn’t sterile.”

  “My God!”

  “Indeed. Sources say there are currently six children, with the oldest being twelve. In each case, their mothers have been strong, athletic women. We don’t know how many Sangsue/hybrid males they have, but considering the portability of seed, they don’t need many.”

  The thought was mind boggling. He was beginning to understand the new boldness he’d seen in the Suckers. They were on the rise.

  “So you see, it’s not just the usual havoc we’re looking at here. They want to disrupt the games and terrorized the public, but for them that’s only a fortunate consequence—the real goal is to snatch some of the strongest we have to offer.”

  “And to blame the whole thing on terrorists? That alone could spark World War Three.”

  “Tell me about it,”

  He finally tasted his coffee. He’d been so interested in what she was saying he’d forgotten about it.

  “Do you like it?” she asked.

  “Let’s just say I prefer to chew my caramel candy.”

  Oddly enough, she shoved his arm while she laughed, which was a gesture he tended to associate with younger people—like prepubescent girls in plaid shirts and white blouses. He assumed she was older than she looked, just as the rest of them were, but he was beginning to wonder. He tried to block his thoughts, but he’d never remembered to test that ability when around people who could check for him.

  “Can you believe what this stuff costs?”

  Her expression was suddenly sad as she held her cup and looked at it. He knew there was something else bothering her, but he couldn’t get a clue from her thoughts. Whatever she was, she was stronger than a Dogon-Hunter.

  “Does it ever bother you how well we live?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, but he suspected he knew.

  “We come from. . . .Mali is one of the poorest countries in the world. Yet all of the Hunters and others like myself live so well.”

  “I’ve thought about it. I try not to, but I do. I just have to keep telling myself that we do a very dangerous job. And we didn’t start off wealthy—the money came with time. The average lifespan in Mali is still less than fifty years old.”

  She nodded. “That makes me sad too.”

  “Of course. I imagine you, like the rest of us, support charities there? Maybe one day we’ll be able to do something to make the world see the beauty and wisdom of our home.”

  She nodded as she said, “that’s my prayer too.”

  They kept the talk to simple things for the rest of their time they were in the coffee shop. Once back in her car, he resumed trying to figure her out.

  “I’m assuming you’re older than you look,” he finally said.

  She smiled. “I’m older than anybody looks.”

  “You carry it well.”

  “Uh-huh. See this big white house on the corner?”

  He saw the house. He could still see where the Greek letters had been painted over. It didn’t look any different than the rest of the houses in the neighborhood except that it might have been a little bigger.

  “That’s the house they bought. So far it’s quiet in comparison to your typical house full of college men, but they do have regular young female visitors.”

  “Cows
?” Artest asked, using the expression they used for Ketier who, for a host of reasons, allowed the Suckers to feed from them. They were mostly young women and gay men. Hunters assumed the practice had a sexual component.

  She gave him a little more background on the Sucker’s experiments in fertility. Her intelligence and knowledge of the topic was fascinating. Artest felt like he was in a spy movie. She kept saying things like “they were observed,” and “it was learned.”

  When you’d lived the equivalent of six or seven lifetimes, there weren’t not a lot of kicks left. As they were driving to the next location, Artest realized that between the two women he’d met on Friday night, he’d felt more excitement than he’d thought was possible anymore.

  He looked back at the house and memorized the location. He suspected he would be seeing a lot more of it.

  Before he exited her car, he had one more question he needed to ask Leeana. “The night we met, you told me, and I quote, ‘I’ll hunt you down if you hurt her.’ Do you remember?”

  “Sure. What’s your question?”

  “Can you hurt me?”

  “Still trying to figure me out, eh?”

  Artest nodded.

  “Yes, Artest, I was serious about what I said, and I can hurt you. And I wouldn’t even have to touch you.”

  “Physically hurt me—we’re not talking a damaged reputation, hurt feelings, or some other abstract?”

  “Physically,” she said.

  “And you could do it with a thought?” If this was a yes, then he knew he was dealing with a god.

  In place of an answer, she laughed, the exact kind of thing Fox would do.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Jordan was coming out of the downstairs bathroom when she saw Artest entering the front door. He looked so yummy. As much as she enjoyed visiting with Tyler, Jahia, and Ian, she was happy to see his return and eager to find out how he’d spent the two plus hours they were separated.

  He smiled as he approached her. She decided to have some fun with him.

  “Hey, pretty lady, did you miss me?” he asked as he reached for her.

  She dodged his embrace. “Excuse me, sir, do I know you?”

  He narrowed his eyes and stepped back. She saw him look over his head, probably searching for one of his friends. Jordan knew they were outside and unable to hear them.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought you were somebody I know.”

  She stuck out her hand. “My name is Jordan Greene.”

  He took the hand and impulsively started bringing it toward his mouth before he caught himself. He gave her a look that would have broken her heart if she hadn’t known how the next five minutes would play out.

  “I’m Artest Drame,” he said as he slowly shook her hand.

  “Hi, Art, are you a friend of Tyler and Jahia?”

  He recoiled at the shortening of his name, but he didn’t correct her as he had Leeana. He just nodded.

  “Then you probably know my new boyfriend, Ian, too?”

  “Your what?”

  His expression scared her. The joke had gone too far. “But now that I think about it, you’re a lot cuter than Ian.” She stood on her tiptoes and planted her lips on his. It took a little prodding with her tongue to get him to relax and embrace her.

  “That was mean, Jordan,” he said, and then immediately reconnected with her mouth.

  She gently pulled away. “Just think about how much fun you’ll have later while I make it up to you.”

  He pulled her back, even closer than before. He nuzzled her ear. “Are you beginning to tell how much I’ve missed you?”

  “I’d have to be numb from the waist down not to feel your interest.”

  “Do I need to get my garden hose? I would say get a room, but I know the landlord, and he’s disgusted too.”

  They were Jahia’s words, but there was a big smile on her face.

  Without letting go of Jordan, Artest threw Jahia a kiss. “No disrespect intended, my friend.”

  “Have you not eaten, Artest? Is that why you can’t stop nibbling on that poor child’s neck?”

  Jordan loved the way Jahia said his name—Art Teese.

  “No, I haven’t. Why don’t I take us all out to dinner? Everybody knows the freaks come out at night, we still have a couple of hours, and even Fox would expect. . . .would even allow us to eat.”

  “That sounds like fun, but my husband and I are going to get a few hours of sleep. It’s been a long time since we’ve prowled the streets. I’d suggest you do the same, but I’m wondering if you two need to be separated?”

  “No, that’s not necessary. We’ll be good,.” Jordan said.

  Artest smiled. “Very good,” he added, exaggerating his words.

  “That’s what you men always say; we women will be the judges,” Jahia verbally threw back at him.

  They followed Jahia down the hallway and to the back door. Just before they stepped out on the deck, Jordan pulled Artest aside.

  “Ian thinks you don’t like him. He seems like a nice guy.”

  “So now you’re his champion?”

  This jealousy thing that they all seemed to have was really starting to annoy her. “No, I’m nobody’s champion. I’m just saying he showed me a lot of respect in deference to you.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “My brother has returned,” Tyler announced when they appeared.

  “Yes, greetings to you all. I trust all is well?”

  “Sewa,” both Tyler and Ian said in unison.

  There were some more exchanges of greetings, but Jordan was repeating the word “sewa” in her mind so she wouldn’t forget it. When they finally finished, she asked Artest what it meant.

  “Sometimes Dogon are called the ‘Sewa People’ because we have elaborate greetings that we exchange all day long, and the response is usually ‘sewa,’ which translates to something like ‘it’s all good.’”

  That struck her as adorable and funny, and it explained so much about these warm people who’d crashed into her life like a quiet storm.

  Artest scooted a chair close to Ian. He surprised her by leaving her to fend for herself, but that was okay. She used the opportunity to help Jahia clean up the remains of their drinks and meal.

  When she returned, the men had agreed to meet in two hours to hit the college club scene. She gave Artest one of Jahia’s chicken salad sandwiches.

  * * * *

  “I’ve been waiting all day to hold you in my arms,” he said when they returned to “their” room.

  “All day, Artest? That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

  He stopped kissing her and stared.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I was just wondering if there was some way I could make your clothes disappear. I would save us so much time.” He flipped his hands from palms up to palms down, and he was standing in just his briefs.

  “Are the hands part of the trick?”

  “No, just something I do to amuse my lady.” He flipped them again, and he was naked. There was a smile in his beautiful eyes that seemed to radiate across his face. He looked young again, like he did the night she met him.

  “Speaking of clothes, I didn’t bring anything to wear tonight.”

  “What makes you think you’ll need clothes tonight?” He started unbuttoning her clothes.

  “I can’t appear at the local clubs in the nude.”

  He stopped. “You’re not going.”

  “You want me to stay here by myself?”

  “I hadn’t thought about who we’ll be getting to stay with you, but you’re not coming out with us. I can’t do my job and worry about you too.”

  “I can take care of myself.” She realized how ridiculous that sounded and added, “anyway, these kids are my students. I’ll be able to keep myself amused while you all do whatever it is you do.”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t ask permission, Artest.”

  “No.”

  “I’ll cal
l Leeana and see what she’s doing tonight.”