"I don't understand."
"There is much you don't understand right now," Conner said. "But, if you should turn out to be who I believe you are, you will begin to…and I hope, quite soon."
"You confuse me more and more!" Jacqueline laughed.
"Come. Let's leave this place. There is much for you to see."
He took her by the hand and led her down the gas-lit hall and out into the night.
"I…I thought it was morning," she stammered in confusion.
"You will find that when you are with me, just the two of us, it is any time I choose it to be," Conner answered.
"My family certainly has some strange friends," Jacqueline muttered.
"To return the compliment, you have a strange family," Conner said. "But you are out of that house for the first time in weeks. Look around you."
A dense, warm fog surrounded them, blotting out any sense of time and place.
"Not much to see," Jacqueline said.
"You think not? Look more closely."
Jacqueline peered into the surrounding grayness. Yes, occasionally, what appeared to be the trunk of a tree broke through the gray miasma and vanished again, only to reappear a few yards to the left. It was as if the tree were moving.
"We are…I mean, are we in a forest?" Jacqueline asked. "I thought that house was in some city. Or…no…I seem to remember coming here in a horse-drawn cab…"
"We can be both in any time and any place I choose," Conner cut her off. "You have to accept that."
"It seems I have little choice," she shrugged.
"But now be quiet. Watch and learn."
Jacqueline peered intently into the wall of gray on all sides. Then, only vaguely glimpsed through the effluvium, a shadow seemed to move. Then another.
"Is there something alive out there?" she whispered.
"Shhh. Watch and learn."
At that moment, a slight breeze caused the fog to part and into the open space stepped a young woman, naked but for some sort of loincloth made of animal hide. She carried a spear and walked in a slouch that made her arms seem long. Then, as her eyes traveled upwards from her naked breasts to the woman's face, Jacqueline saw that the woman's arms were, indeed, over-long, for her face had a large forehead and there were vestiges of facial hair on her cheeks. Either the woman was a mutant of some sort…or Jacqueline was looking at some long-dead example of the human species. But what was…?
"Is she…?" she hissed to Conner.
"Shhh. Her race is a precursor to the almost forgotten Anasazi. There are still vestiges of Anasazi in America, but hers has been totally lost to history. But I have talked too long. Watch now and, whatever you do, don't try to interfere."
Two dark shadows loomed out of the fog behind the woman now. A man and a woman, both totally naked. The man was broad-shouldered, square-jawed and mesmerizing with his black and piercing eyes. The woman was long-haired, lithe, and beautiful, her green eyes seeming to catch the only light there was and gleam hungrily with it. And they were obviously stalking the first woman, for they circled behind her, keeping just out of the range of her vision.
Then, as Jacqueline watched, her feet rooted to the spot, the two stalkers seemed to lose the sharpness of their outlines. At first, she thought it was just the fog rolling in again, but the woman and the trees remained clear and she had to acknowledge she was actually watching the two hunters changing shape.
Within moments, in fact, they had dropped to all fours and a smooth fur covered their whole bodies. Their snouts elongated slightly and fangs appeared beneath their upper lips. Their eyes glowed with the ferocity of wild and hungry animals.
But, in all this, there was a terrible beauty in them. They moved with a grace somewhere between that of a cat and that of the most supple dancer. Their muscles rippled under their pelts with a lithe beauty,
And when they pounced upon their unsuspecting prey, it was with an elegance no human could hope to emulate.
Even the sight of them tearing into the flesh of their victim had a kind of fierce beauty all its own.
And, when they finished their meal, leaving only bone behind, they loped off into the fog with a lissome suppleness that made Jacqueline feel like applauding.
But, when the mist rolled in again, the horror of what she had witnessed struck her.
"What were those…things?" she asked. "Or won't you tell me?"
"Not yet," Conner said quietly. "But, I promise you, soon it will be time for you to discover. Come for a ride now. I've a hansom cab waiting."
"Out in the woods? Sometime in pre-history?" Jacqueline gasped.
"Oh, no," he smiled. "We're no longer there or then. We're back just outside the city now. In eighteen eighty-nine."
"All this flying about in time and space! You're making me dizzy," Jacqueline laughed tensely.
The only constant seemed to be the fog.
The cab loomed out of it as Jacqueline and Conner approached, and the horse's flanks glistened with it in the faint glow of the flickering streetlight. However, as they clacked along through it, Jacqueline could see nothing of their surroundings.
Finally, they seemed to be passing through an area where there even fewer streetlamps, but a red glow emanated from several recessed doorways.
"They call it Whore Town," Conner said, "for obvious reasons. You see that young blonde there, the one applying her war paint? Something tells me it will prove useless tonight."
Suddenly, in a darkened doorway to the blonde's left, a shadow moved and a man, elegantly dressed in a dark tuxedo and top hat, whose shadow almost hid his face, stepped out into the bloody glow of the tart's advertising beacon.
"The shank of the evening to you, Mister," the blonde purred, deep in her throat. "Interest you in a bit of quail?"
"Don't mind if I do," the man's deep voice leered.
"Your place or mine?" the blonde continued the usual sales-pitch.
"Why not right here?" the man snarled.
Then his one hand loosed his already erect penis from his trousers and his other raised her skirt around her waist where she held it with her hand, as he pulled her bloomers down around her knees, stepping forward to ram her back against the brick of her doorway.
"Moses! Don't be in such a hur…aaaagh!" the blonde whore cried as his violent entry up her vagina lifted her feet off the step.
Then, holding her firmly back against the wall by her breasts, the man drove his shaft into her again and again until they both came in a noisy paroxysm of lust.
"Christ," she panted as she hung on his penis, "you didn't ask how much."
"Just dinner for two," he said.
And he nodded to a second shadow that materialized as a creature that was somewhere between a woman and a slavering beast.
And this creature reached around the man and tore the blonde's throat out with her claw-like hands.
Then they squatted in the doorway and ate her.
And vanished into the shadows again.
"I think I'd like to go home now," Jacqueline said in a small voice. "That is, if I have one."
"You have mine, Miss Jacqueline," Mister Conner said.
"Take me there," she said shakily.
* * *
The moment Jacqueline saw Conner's apartment, an irrational tightness gripped her belly.
Oh, my God, she thought, this is his place! This is the place where he is going to make love to me. Tonight.
And I want him to make love to me.
Oh, God, how I want that!
Fighting down the urge to throw herself at him then and there, Jacqueline forced herself to look casually around.
The room seemed to be typical late nineteenth century in décor and Jacqueline thought it rather suited the timeless nature of the man. Plush burgundy velvet curtains hid what must have been huge, high windows; a thick oriental carpet in deep reds and greens invited her to kick her shoes off and go barefoot through its pile. The room was dominated by a huge divan, also upholstered in burgundy velvet with
a matching wing-backed easy chair. A dark mahogany bar on "lion" legs covered one wall, stocked with more different kinds of bottles than Jacqueline had ever seen.
Still there was something wrong about the room and it took her a moment to recognize what it was.
Flanking the divan were two Tiffany lamps, but the light from those lamps did not waver like typical gas lamps, and Jacqueline peered over the shades to discover that opaque glass bulbs hid the wicks.
"What are these?" she asked.
"Electric lights," Conner answered.
"What's electric?"
"I'm not sure I can explain," he shrugged. "Something about the power generated by flowing water. There is much about this century that still confuses me."
"What…century is this?" Jacqueline asked hesitantly.
"Twentieth…actually early twenty-first,"
"Now that confuses me!" she laughed uneasily, looking up at the ceiling. "That's more normal though."
"What is?"
"The way those lamps cast dark shadows into the corners high up by the ceiling."
She gave an involuntary shudder.
"What's the matter?" Conner asked, noticing her eyes looking up into the shadows.
"Those shadows are spooky," Jacqueline answered. "You could almost swear you see something moving deep inside them."
"I find that kind of reassuring," Conner smiled. "I like to think of it as the spirits of my ancestors watching over me."
"I more think of bats," Jacqueline shuddered again.
"Sometimes, one's ancestors are bats," Conner said and there was no smile this time.
"So, continuing with the macabre nature of this evening, I ask you again. Who or what were those creatures we saw tonight? Or am I still not ready to know?"
"No, I think you're ready now," Conner said.
"Goody…I think," Jacqueline said.
"They are called Nightwalkers. And they have a long history on this planet," Conner said.
"And we weren't in any danger? Not at any time?"
"We weren't even there. Or they weren't even here, whichever."
"You confuse me more and more."
"Then, at the risk of overload, let me just say that they were us. Or they are us It is a bit difficult to explain."
"I'll say it is!" Jacqueline laughed nervously. "But I suppose there is an explanation, somewhere."
"Nightwalker lore says 'The answer to all things will be found in the same bed where love is found.'"
"That's beautiful."
"You sound surprised."
"It's just that it's hard to think of such evil creatures…"
"Nightwalkers aren't evil," Conner corrected her. "They merely obey the dictates of the dark. After all, we aren't evil."
"We aren't Nightwalkers either."
"But that's just it. We could well be."
"What?"
"That is, to be precise, I am and you could be," Conner continued. "When I said we were they and they were us I really meant that they could have been us, in the form of the ancestors we've just seen."
"But how can we find out?" Jacqueline asked.
"In the same bed where love is found," Conner said.
"That sounds like an invitation."
"Would you like me to make love to you, Miss Jacqueline?"
"Mister Connor," Jacqueline said "I believe I'll die if you don't."
Holding her back against his chest, Conner undid the buttons on her eye-green dress as he walked her into the bedroom. Then, turning on a single night light in the baseboard, he watched her undress in the muted light, his black eyes seeming to devour every naked inch of her body.
"You are one magnificent woman," he said approvingly as she finished.
"But I still know nothing of you," Jacqueline chided him. "You could all be padding when it comes down to it."
"Try me," he smiled his heart-melting smile.
He wasn't all padding. His chest was muscular and his shoulders were as broad as they looked fully dressed. And what was under the bulge in his trousers was even more spectacular than the bulge promised.
Looking at the latter, as it came into view; Jacqueline could not restrain herself for another second. She went down on her knees before him and her mouth closed over the bulb at its tip. Then she sucked its full length into her voracious mouth and down her throat. Then she began to work on it with lips and cheeks and tongue until she felt the already massive organ began to swell with come. Hastily, she tried to pull her head away, but Conner took both hands and held her mouth down on his cock while he shot spurt after spurt of hot semen down her throat.
"Hey, what about me?" Jacqueline complained as she pulled her head away and wiped her chin.
"Never you worry, my darling," Conner assured her. "There's plenty left over for your pussy."
Jacqueline rolled onto her back on the carpet, throwing her arms wide and spreading her legs so that her whole body was his for the taking.
Conner accepted that silent invitation by kneeling over her and bringing his mouth down, so close to her right breast that his warm breath tickled it erotically. Then his tongue flicked out like that of a snake and touched her nipple a dozen or more times with its tantalizing caress.
"Ohhhhh…" Jacqueline moaned, writhing her hips on the floor in ecstasy. "Kiss my nipple, Conner. Suck it between your lips and make it swell."
And Conner sucked her nipple into his mouth and lashed it with the tender whip of his tongue until it rose to an aching point. Then, with a deliberate indolence, his lips and tongue traveled from the right nipple to the left and began their wonderful torture again.
"Oh…oh…oh…" Jacqueline panted, bucking her hips up off the carpet in frantic joy. "Suck my pussy that way too! Please, suck my clit until it hurts!"
Slowly, almost languidly, Conner's mouth made the longer journey down her ribcage, over the flat of her belly to the rise of her pubic mount. Here he froze for a long moment, until Jacqueline grabbed his head and forced him to dive into the cleft between her legs.
"Ahhhh…ahhhh…ahhhhh!" she cried softly as his tongue and lips abused the oyster folds of her labia and lashed at the bud of her clitoris.
Then it was…
"Ahhhhhh, God…yeaaahhhh!" as his tongue shot into her pussy-hole, sucking the pre-coital juices that were beginning to stream down over her labia.
And suddenly, Conner's mouth broke contact and he raised his head.
"Roll on your stomach," he said.
Instantly Jacqueline rolled, so that her naked bottom was presented to him.
"Do you want me in the anus?" she asked. "Oh, Conner, I love you so much that I will give you anything you want."
"And I love you so much that I would never make you suffer that indignity," he replied. "Besides, I can easily reach deep into your pussy from behind. You'll see."
Jacqueline more felt, than saw.
Conner's hands went under her and grasped her breasts so tightly that it almost hurt. Then, using them to hold her in place, he slowly inserted his cock into her pussy, all the way to the base of its shaft. Sure of his leverage, he now began a slow in and out movement – in until his testicles touched her labia, out until he almost fell free of her vagina.
His head bent now and his mouth opened. Then he grasped the nape of her neck, in a tender, but inescapable grip, holding her tight.
Oh, my God, he really is the Alpha Male, and I am fated to be his mate, she thought.
And it was at that moment that she knew she was entirely and utterly his.
He fucked her now—fuck was the only word for it—slowly increasing the tempo and violence of his thrusts, until his balls were slapping her pussy lips and she was grunting as the air was forced out of her lungs.
And their mutual climax began as a quivering in their bellies and spread to a shuddering that consumed their whole bodies, and finally exploded into two simultaneous, silent and furious convulsions that seemed to rock them to the core and soul of their beings.
And they floated back down to reality on a cloud of satiation.
* * *
Jacqueline awoke in the middle of the night and shook Conner by the naked shoulder.
"I'm hungry," she said.
"All right," Conner sighed impatiently. "Let's get dressed. There's an all-night burger place just down the street."
"I don't want a burger and I don't want to get dressed," Jacqueline said, licking her full lips so that their sensuous pout glistened in the glow of the nightlight.
"Then I don't see how…I mean, there's nothing in the fridge."
"You don't understand," Jacqueline smiled. "I want to go out, stark naked, and go down by the lake. Then I want us to sit, side by side on our haunches on the grass, and howl at the moon. Then I want to…eat."
Conner looked at her for such a long time, puzzling over the significance of what he'd just heard that, finally, Jacqueline had to speak again.
"Oh, by the way," she said, "I'd like to call you Conor. C-O-N-O-R. I understand some people have trouble with the other name."
Conor smiled.
"In that case, do you mind if I call you Jacynthe?"
"'I wish you would," she said. "That is what I am."
And she nuzzled up against him and went to sleep, wrapping her forepaws around his body.
About The Author
Kirstin South is the pseudonym of an award-winning writer of Horror, Mystery and Humour. In her other persona, she has won an Emmy and two Independent Publishers'™ Yearbook Awards for horror. Hence the fact that two of her first three books for Extasy are in the horror genre. She has also received several Reviewers'™ Choice Awards for her humorous mysteries. Under her real name, she has also written other erotic work, such as an explicit fictional biography of the mad Pharaoh Akhenaten (Dreams for the Wind) and two romantic fantasies for other publishers. Both her embodiments are a Canadian citizen who lives in Toronto or an island in Central Ontario. Extasy Books welcomes her to its ranks.
Nightwalkers Page 11