Chapter 10
It took nearly ten minutes for me to sneak the last several yards to my tent, stopping and listening with every step. By the time I closed the tent flap behind me I was shivering uncontrollably. I stripped and burrowed into my cot, but the damp chilly blankets only increased my frozen misery. Muttering curses, I quivered out again and pulled on sweats and a T-shirt before grabbing my laptop and retreating under the covers once more.
I pulled the blanket over my head to conserve heat and hide the glow of the screen, hoping I’d be able to hear any incoming threat over the chattering of my teeth. The little square began blinking as soon as I logged in, and I performed the Alt-Shift-Click sequence to activate the text window.
Too unnerved to wait for Stemp to initiate a message, I typed, “Orion was sneaking around my tent tonight. He seemed to be listening, but he might have been inside searching it earlier. I caught him outside when I came back.”
The cursor scurried across the screen. “Did you confront him?”
“No. He didn’t see me.” I thought for a moment, then typed, “Along with the other gear would you please send me a waterproof storage box big enough for my lockbox and phones, and the smallest night-vision webcam you’ve got?”
“I’ll courier it tomorrow. It should be at the depot in Port Renfrew the next day.” The cursor hesitated at the end of the text for a moment before continuing, “Is that all?”
I typed ‘yes’, wondering what was coming.
Apparently he was having difficulty formulating his question. The cursor blinked in place at the end of the line for several moments.
I was about to ask what he wanted when it moved at last. “You said ‘as long as my parents are happy’. Are they?”
It was my turn to hesitate. “Mostly, I think,” I typed finally. “But they miss you and wish they were part of your life. I told them you love them and that seemed to help, but maybe you could call more often. Your mom was really happy to hear you had houseplants so that might be something you could talk about.”
I stared at my words on the screen for a long moment, my finger hovering over the Enter key. Should I really offer personal advice to my cold-fish boss? Hell, who was I to advise anyone on family matters? My parents were both dead, I had no siblings or children, and my personal life wouldn’t exactly win awards for wholesome normalcy. Maybe I should just say ‘yes, they’re happy’ and dodge the whole thing.
Moonbeam’s tear-bright eyes rose in my memory and I swore softly. Dammit, Stemp might tell me to butt out, but I had to try. And he must care about their happiness, or he wouldn’t have asked.
I gritted my teeth and sent the message, braced for a scathing dismissal.
The cursor blinked innocuously.
It didn’t move for so long I wondered if Stemp had dropped dead of apoplexy on the other end. Was he sitting there in a rage, trying to calm down enough to type one of his trademark emotionless responses? Or maybe he was composing an icy rebuke.
The cursor kept blinking, giving away nothing.
Or maybe my message hadn’t gone through…?
I was considering re-sending it when the cursor moved at last, its short message zipping across the screen: “Thank you. I’ll try that.”
My jaw dropped as the text window vanished. Of all the responses he could have given, that was the one I had least expected.
I sat staring at the screen for several moments, but the connection had closed and there was nothing else unusual. No flying pigs, and I was pretty sure there would be icicles if hell had frozen over.
But… Stemp acting like a human being…? I emerged from under the covers to check for flying pigs one more time.
My tent remained pork-free, and I shook off my bemusement and stowed my laptop under the bed. Burrowing back under the covers, I tucked my gun into its accustomed berth between my cot and the tent wall before squeezing my eyes shut and letting out a long breath.
Okay, relax. Sleep.
Yeah, right.
My tense muscles refused to ease and I lay wide awake, listening for the crunch of footsteps on gravel or the rustle of my tent flap. Or gunshots. It would be easy for somebody to fire a few rounds through a canvas wall…
Oh, for chrissake, shut up.
I hauled myself off the cot with a groan and quietly relocated my wooden crates in front of the tent flap before crawling back into bed. At least if somebody tried to sneak in, I’d get some advance notice. That would have to be good enough.
My fingers crept over the edge of the cot to seek the reassurance of my pistol grip.
No, dammit, I refused to go to sleep with it in my hand. If I had a nightmare I might shoot some innocent person before I woke up enough to realize what I was doing.
I tucked my hand back under the covers and rolled over, yanking the blanket up around my ears.
Settle down. Belly breathe…
After a night of waking over and over at the slightest noise, the cheery sound of birdsong made me pry open an eye at last. Dawn-gray lightened the canvas, and I squinted at my watch.
Six-thirty.
“Shut up, you little feathered bastards,” I growled, and jammed the pillow over my head.
A few moments later even its padding couldn’t muffle the sudden din of the Spirit bells.
“For fucksakes! Really?” I demanded of the pillow.
It didn’t reply, and I flung it to the floor and staggered out of bed to shift the wooden crates away from the entrance. With my luck Orion would…
“Storm!”
“…be right here to collect me,” I finished my mental sentence in a cranky mutter before raising my voice. “I’m not coming! I’m sick!”
A moment later I gave quiet thanks that I’d worn my T-shirt and sweats to bed when he pushed through the tent flap, looking anxious. “What’s wrong? Can I help?”
“No, thanks. I’m just not feeling well. I’ll be okay after a bit more sleep.”
“But what’s wrong?” He eyed me for a moment, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “You look fine. Are you just trying to avoid the Calling?”
I scowled and pulled out the heaviest hitter in my arsenal. “I have terrible menstrual cramps. Go away.”
He paled. “Oh…” A flush rose on his cheeks and he squared his shoulders, his lips firming. “You’re lying, aren’t you?”
“Clots,” I ground out. “Giant slimy blood clots like pieces of raw liver…”
He clapped a hand over his mouth and fled.
My return to bed was sweet indeed.
I was drifting in the warm hazy limbo that precedes sleep when scratching at my tent flap roused me.
“Go away, I’m sick,” I mumbled.
The rustle of my tent flap heralded Orion’s arrival, his beautiful eyes wide with concern. “I brought you a hot water bottle,” he murmured, and held it out.
I sighed. “Thanks, but I’m- …Jesus Christ!” A deluge of icy water drenched me as he upended the bottle over my head.
“No, you’re not,” he said straight-faced, but the dimple flickered in his cheek.
I rocketed out of bed, bellowing the vilest insults I could summon on short notice, and swung for all I was worth with the soggy pillow. I scored a direct hit on the side of his head and was winding up for a second blow when he sprang and captured me in a bear hug, pinning my arms to my sides.
“You deserved that,” he observed, grinning at me from close range. “For lying to me.”
“Bullsh… I… you…”
He ignored my sputtering. “I was worried about you so I went to get Moonbeam. And she told me you can’t possibly have menstrual cramps.”
“Oh, for…” I tried to step away but he held me tightly, his grin changing from mischief to temptation.
His muscular body felt far too good against mine. And those stunning green eyes were heating up, evaporating the common sense right out of my head.
Before it could desert me completely I pulled free and took a couple of hurried
steps backward. “All right, you got me. Yes, I was lying. I don’t mean any disrespect to your beliefs or to the Earth Spirit, Orion, but I just don’t believe in it the way you do and I don’t see the point in participating in the rituals.”
He sighed. “I wish you’d take part, though, if only to make Moonbeam and Karma happy.”
That was a low blow. My conscience twinged.
“But they don’t even come to the rituals,” I argued. “They’d never know if I was there unless somebody told them. And anyway, Skidmark never shows up, either. That doesn’t seem to bother them.”
The corner of Orion’s mouth twitched. “Skidmark isn’t even capable of walking a straight line most of the time. I don’t think you want to claim kinship with him.”
“True…” I seized the opportunity to change the subject. “Hey, you’re the expert on the commune so answer me this: If Moonbeam and Karma don’t mind Skidmark constantly smoking pot and offering it to everybody he meets, why do they prohibit any form of alcohol?”
Orion shrugged. “Marijuana is part of the natural world. If it grows from the Earth, it’s a gift from the Earth Spirit for us to use. Alcohol doesn’t grow from the earth.”
“But it’s made from fruits and grains,” I began, but he was already shaking his head.
“Alcohol poisons our bodies and minds,” he said firmly. “You’ve never heard of anyone going on a marijuana-fuelled rampage, have you? Alcohol makes people violent and dangerous. Marijuana doesn’t.”
“Alcohol doesn’t change people at all,” I argued. “It just removes their filters. If they’re violent and dangerous to start with, then yeah, they get violent and dangerous. If they aren’t, they don’t. If somebody’s shit-faced drunk, you just see what they’re truly like.”
Orion frowned. “But self-control is what separates men from animals. The Earth Spirit wants us to exercise self-control to live together in tolerance and harmony. Alcohol destroys self-control.”
I sighed. “Okay, I’ll give you that. But…”
“Storm.” He stopped me with an upraised hand. “I know what you’re doing. Stop stalling and let’s go. We can still make it for the last half of the Calling.”
I eyed him without much hope. “Do we have to? It’s half over already.”
Orion shook his head reprovingly, but a glint of mischief lit his eyes. “Well, there might be another way to celebrate the Earth Spirit’s call.”
The corners of my mouth tugged upward at his naughty expression. “Is that so?”
“Yes.” He stepped closer, the dimple dancing in his cheek. “I could show you the ritual.”
“I’m sure you could.” My heart picked up the pace while my mind accelerated into overdrive. I didn’t trust him, but I had no proof that he was actually dangerous. And he was definitely hot…
He was inches away, his hands gliding over my shoulders and down my arms to lift my hands. Soft lips scattered butterfly kisses over my knuckles before he turned my hand to kiss my palm. Then his lips drifted to the inside of my wrist, his green eyes blazing temptation.
Oh, hell, definitely hot.
And Stemp had told me to get close to him. Shit, I was practically under orders to…
Orion’s lips curved up at my indrawn breath as he kissed his way up to the inside of my elbow. My body called in a four-alarm fire, urging on my rationalizations.
What better way to encourage confidences than during pillow talk in a long, lazy afterglow? If he actually meant any harm to Moonbeam and Karma, he’d be more likely to let something slip when he was relaxed…
Relaxation was the farthest thing from my mind at the moment. His lips had found the sensitive spot near my collarbone, sending electric tingles to all points south. My hands traced the hard contours of his chest and he pulled me closer with a throaty murmur of satisfaction.
His kiss burned my lips while he shrugged off his corduroy shirt. His hands moved lower, pressing me against him while he deepened the kiss. Dipping under my T-shirt, his hot palms slid up my back while his tongue seduced mine.
He broke the kiss to nibble across my jaw toward my earlobe. Arching my neck to give him better access, I opened my eyes momentarily to judge the distance to the bed.
And froze, my already-pounding pulse leaping up into heart-attack territory.
Nylon hand restraints. Lying on the ground half-concealed by his dropped shirt. They must have fallen out of his pocket.
Oh, shit!
Chapter 11
“Storm?” Orion pulled away a fraction, his eyes dilated almost black. “What’s wrong?”
“Uh…”
Dammit, suck it up. Jane Bond the Superspy would carry on as though nothing was wrong. Take him for the ride of his life, and end up with him wearing nothing but the hand restraints and spilling all his secrets.
“Um, I’m, uh…” I stepped back, my shaking legs barely holding my weight. The memory of nylon ties slicing into my wrists made me swallow hard, my heart rate rocketing into the stratosphere.
I drew a deep breath and pulled myself together, my voice only trembling slightly. “I’m sorry, Orion, I guess… I’m not quite ready for this.”
“Oh…” He frowned, and I calculated the distance to my gun behind the cot. I should be able to draw on him before he could grab the restraints…
“Oh,” he repeated. “But… I thought… I’m sorry, then. I thought you fancied me. Sorry.”
He looked so innocently disappointed that I almost second-guessed myself. But there was no innocent reason for anybody to carry a set of hand restraints. And there was that odd trace of an accent again.
“It’s okay, don’t apologize,” I said, my wobbling voice almost under control. “I do like you, I just… I’m not quite ready for this.”
“Okay.” He turned away, stooping to pick up his shirt, and I thought I saw his back stiffen as he casually scooped up the restraints along with the bundle of fabric. He turned back to face me, smiling. “It was still a nice way to celebrate a Calling. Thank you.”
I shoved an answering smile onto my stiff lips. “Thank you, too. For the celebration, and for taking no for an answer.”
“Of course.” He gave me a half-smile. “I guess, well… I guess I’ll see you later…?”
“Yeah, see you later.” I nodded like a bobble-head, my smile plastic.
He withdrew with an awkward nod, and I tottered over to my cot and dropped onto it as though I’d been cut off at the knees. Several minutes of deep breathing restored my pulse rate to only slightly higher than normal. A few seconds after that, my brain kicked into gear again.
Stupid. I shouldn’t have let my fear take over. This would have been a prime opportunity to get close to Orion and figure out what his game was.
A shudder chased itself down my spine. Or it might have been a prime opportunity for Orion to cinch those restraints around my wrists and do who-knows-what, completely unnoticed by the rest of the commune members while they hummed contentedly in the main building.
I sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. No point in second-guessing. Just do damage control.
After a moment of intent listening, I dropped to my knees to rummage under my cot. Behind the duffel bag was a backpack I’d brought but barely used. Now seemed like an ideal time to remedy that.
Using a towel from my duffel as packing, I stowed all my phones and gun-related equipment in the bottom of the pack. Until I could create a hidden cache somewhere outside my tent, this backpack would have to be part of my body.
After some quick ablutions in the bucket of chilly water I kept handy for washing up, I got dressed and put on my ankle holster under my jeans. Strapping my heavy survival knife onto my belt, I rested my hand on its leather-wrapped hilt. It probably didn’t make me much safer, but at least I felt better with its weight on my hip. My laptop filled the rest of the space in my backpack, and I shouldered the load and poked my head warily out the tent flap before emerging to hike down the path.
Trying
to look casual, I scanned around me. Where had Orion gone? Did he have anyone else watching me? His ability to locate me was even more unnerving now.
I had just turned onto the main path when his familiar voice made my shoulders knot.
“Storm! Wait up!”
I turned, trying to look at least moderately welcoming, and he strode up from the direction of the main building. He eyed my backpack. “Going for a hike?”
“Yep, now’s a good time to tell me to take a hike,” I said too heartily.
He gave an uncertain chuckle before sobering. “Remember to watch out for the cougar. Do you have a signalling whistle with you? Or I could…” He trailed off. “I guess… you probably don’t want my company.”
“Not just now, but thanks for being concerned.” I gave him a smile, making sure I made my eyes crinkle as though I meant it. “I just need some time alone to think.”
“Okay… well, be careful.” He gave me a half-smile and turned away, and I hurried off in the opposite direction.
As usual I headed for the front gates and hiked briskly along the main road, my back tingling with the sensation of being watched. I chanced a nonchalant glance up toward Skidmark’s eyrie but I couldn’t spot the bench. Either it was too well concealed in the trees, or it didn’t have a clear sight line to this part of the road.
My steps slowed as I thought back. How much of the road had I been able to see from up there? Dammit, I couldn’t remember. I really needed to develop Kane’s keen powers of observation and recall.
I sighed and hefted the backpack to a more comfortable position on my shoulders. That’d be the day. Kane was the best agent in the service, and I was just a civilian bookkeeper scrambling to learn.
Well, I’d better learn fast. Moonbeam’s and Karma’s lives might depend on it. And mine, too. I could start by breaking the dangerous habit of walking this road every time I called Stemp.
Glancing up at the brighter spot in the clouds that passed for the sun, I struck out into the undergrowth. At least I had good backwoods skills. I wouldn’t get lost. That had to count for something.
Spy High Page 9