Night Tides

by Alex Prentiss

  Oh, boy, she thought, here it is. She forced the words out. “It was nothing human. It was in the lake. It was the lake. The water itself was my first lover.”

  She closed her eyes. Her heart was pounding, and she felt sweat spring up all over her. No one had ever heard this story before, even though she’d rehearsed telling it countless times. Not even Don, but then, she had no doubt how he would’ve reacted. But she really knew nothing about Ethan. She’d just exposed herself, in every possible way, to a man who was basically a stranger.

  They were both silent for a long moment, conscious of every sound, from the street outside to Tainter’s muted scuffing in his kitchen litter box. Then, in the same warm voice, Ethan said, “Then what?”

  “I learned that only whoever or whatever lived in the lake could make me come,” she said. Despite the fear, there was the power of release in just saying the words. “I could get close to it with myself or with someone else. But only the lake could get me there.”

  “Only Lake Monona.”

  “Actually, either of them, Mendota or Monona. Something about Lake Wingra gives me the creeps, so I’ve never tried it there.”

  He touched her hip with his fingertips. “You seem pretty well adjusted, for having gone through all that.”

  She shrugged. “Fall down or keep moving. What would you do?”

  “Keep moving.” He slid his hand along her belly, idly tracing the outline of her tattoo. “Do you have any idea why this happened to you?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve read everything I could, talked to everyone who might know. The Native Americans believed something unusual lived in the water, but the tribe that put up the effigy mounds isn’t here anymore. There are references to a tribe called the Lo-Stahzi, who were powerful shamans, but they died off or disappeared long before the current tribes came to this area, and that was way before any Europeans did. So, no, I don’t have a clue. I don’t even have names for them. But in a sense… they own me.”

  “‘They’? There’s more than one?”

  She nodded. “Several. I know because they behave differently.” How could she really describe the way one would gradually bring her to the height of need, while another used her with such violence she was always surprised when she wasn’t bruised the next day? Some caressed her in ways that made her giggle, others pummeled her into whatever position they wanted. Most times more than one used her simultaneously. And always they gave her fulfillment of such exquisite thoroughness that they more than made up for any brief discomfort. Then, at the end, whether she’d been tenderly loved or willfully taken, she was brought back to the surface, to her world, with soft watery kisses to express their thanks.

  “Why do you say they ‘own’ you?”

  She turned and smiled at him. “Come on, Ethan. If you could get off with only one woman, wouldn’t you feel like she owned you too?”

  “I don’t know. But probably,” he added.

  “Yeah, well, there’s my story.”

  He shifted on the bed and rested his head on his hand to look at her. “Have you ever seen a doctor about this?”

  “What kind of doctor?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Some kind.”

  “I’m not crazy.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  What kind of whore constantly wants sex and won’t let herself get off? Don had roared. And why do you sneak off to the goddamned lake all the time? Who are you meeting there? “I know how it sounds. I don’t know why I’m even telling you about it.” She sat up and swung her feet off the side of the bed. She covered her breasts with her arms. “Look, maybe this was a mistake, maybe—”

  “Maybe,” he interrupted as he stroked her back, “you shouldn’t assume how I’m going to react.”

  His touch sent oddly comforting tingles down her spine. “You don’t believe me,” she insisted obstinately.

  “Did I say that? I’m surprised, I’ll admit. And it does sound out of the ordinary. But I do believe you.”

  “Yeah? Why?”

  “Because…” Now he looked uncomfortable. “Up until now, since I got back from my tour in Iraq eight months ago, I couldn’t… stay up.”

  She wasn’t sure how to respond and settled for simply, “Oh.”

  His voice grew flat and distant. “I saw something happen there. A soldier in my squad raped and killed an Iraqi girl. I walked in and saw the body and saw what he’d done to her. So whenever I’d get close to … being with a woman, I couldn’t get that image out of my mind. I… wasn’t able to perform.”

  She turned so she could see him better. She wanted to touch him, to comfort him, but wasn’t sure how. “I’m sorry, Ethan.”

  “From the moment I saw you, though, it’s like… I’ve been hard as a rock. I was terrified it wouldn’t last, that I’d get right to the point of needing it and then lose it, but… I didn’t.”

  “So you just wanted to prove something with me?”

  “No, that’s not it at all. I just… I haven’t felt safe since then. But when I came with you… I did. And…”

  She brushed a stray strand of hair from his forehead, almost choking on a wave of tenderness. She knew he was strong physically; now she saw how deep that strength really went. She realized he was voluntarily as naked as she was. “What?” she prompted when he did not continue.

  He sat up beside her. “I have an idea.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  FIFTEEN MINUTES later they stood naked, holding hands, at the edge of the lake in Hudson Park. The bushes shielded them from view, and mosquitoes swarmed their salty skin. It was an overcast night, and occasional heat lightning sheeted across the clouds.

  Rachel smiled nervously up at Ethan. The sweat made highlights on his chest and abs; the smooth curves of his shoulders and biceps gave him a Greek-statue look. “I’ve never done this before,” she said as shyly as a nude woman could.

  “A guy always likes to hear his date say that.”

  She stepped close to kiss him and felt his arousal announce itself against her belly. Knowing she had brought him to life again so soon sent a thrilling sense of power through her. “I should warn you, I really don’t know what will happen.”

  He caressed her hair and shoulders. “And you never will, standing here.”

  She nodded, then stepped into the water. He followed. She moved with the authority of experience, while he tottered awkwardly on the uncertain bottom. The night was silent except for the lapping of the small waves on the lake and the city noises that served as a dim, omnipresent backdrop.

  ETHAN FELT momentarily foolish with his erection preceding him, but one look at Rachel’s silhouette in the night made it the only possible response. He could see her perfect breasts, the nipples dark and erect. The swell of her hips below her narrow waist made him tingle deep inside.

  The water rose to their knees, then their hips, then the middle of their chests. Finally Rachel stopped and turned to face him, expression lost in shadow.

  She put her arms around his neck. Her breasts were soft against his chest. “Are you sure about this?” she said softly.

  He shifted his weight on the silty bottom until he was steady, then slid his hands up under her arms, simultaneously lifting her and kneeling. She spread her thighs. For an awkward moment the correct position eluded them, and neither had a free hand to help. Then he found her and lowered her onto him. She wrapped her legs around him and made a sound halfway between a growl and a sob as he entered her. For a long moment neither one moved.

  RACHEL WAITED for some indication of the lake’s approval. The water engulfed her lower body but did not form the hands, lips, and other things that meant the spirits were present. Was she doomed yet again to the awful frustration?

  But the immediate feeling of clinging to this iron-strong man as he impaled her intimately pushed any doubts aside. Even if she couldn’t come, this moment was something to cherish. “Oh, God,” she breathed, kissing his neck and shoulders, rolling her h
ips forward and back against him. His hands cupped her rear, effortlessly supporting her weight.

  The slow grinding gave way to harder undulations, more-demanding thrusts. Water shot up between them and drenched their faces. The splashing sounded unbearably loud, and she feared at any moment flashlights from shore would pick them out, followed by mocking catcalls. But she couldn’t stop.

  Please let this happen, she begged the spirits. I’m not abandoning you, I’ll never leave you, but I need this.

  As if in response to her unspoken plea, the unmistakable feeling built within her, making her gasp and strive harder to reach it. “Oh, my God, Ethan, I’m so close,” she whispered, and took his earlobe in her teeth for emphasis. Her cries changed from grunts of carnal effort to pleading, keening whines of desperation. Nothing the lake did for her could compare, truly, with the hot physical presence inside her. Would they know this and prevent her from reaching the moment of ecstasy hovering just beyond reach?

  Please, she implored. Please…

  ALL ETHAN could do was stand and let her pound against him, which was more than enough for him. Despite their earlier activity, he was just as hard and realized he was also getting close. Worse, he’d neglected to bring any protection, so he was completely dedicated to resisting his own orgasm. The need grew stronger with each moment, though, and he knew he was doomed to lose. He’d never wanted to come inside a woman the way he wanted it now.

  Her movements grew more urgent, and the waves lapped at them like extra hands coaxing them on. Her arms were wrapped tight around his neck, her ankles locked around his thighs. She grunted a little with each slam of her pelvis, and the sensation built around him until he almost couldn’t breathe.

  “No condom,” he whispered urgently, his body straining for control. “Trying not to—”

  And then he could tell: It happened. Suddenly Rachel’s muscles tightened, her limbs clamped around him, and her spine arched, creating a tension that held her immobile. Only her hands moved, alternately raking and grasping his shoulders. He couldn’t see her face, but he heard her little choking gasps, as if she could barely catch her breath.

  HER EYES OPENED wide as the longest, most powerful orgasm of her life raged through her. Not even the lake spirits had brought her to this height. It was no mere physical response centered between her legs either; this was something that took over her whole being, the way a man in the electric chair responds to the surge of voltage. She had no idea she was even capable of this feeling, and it seemed to choke all but the most necessary breath from her.

  Finally, with a cry, she went limp. Her arms hung uselessly down his back. She was exhausted, spent, and nothing mattered at all.

  HE FELT HER shuddering, possibly sobbing, but he had his own problems. He had only moments of control left.

  “Can’t hold back much longer,” he whispered, his voice shivery. “Really, I’m not kidding… .”

  She leaned back enough to look into his eyes. “Don’t try,” she said raggedly.

  “Are you sure?” he gasped. He was there, right there, ready. It was time to fling her away or—

  “Yes!” she choked out.

  And then it didn’t matter; he couldn’t have held it back if he’d wanted to. He came inside her, furiously and with more intensity than even back at her apartment. It was as if that earlier time hadn’t even happened, he was so full and desperate. She shuddered in his arms as he poured forth; then she spasmed tight again, keening into his shoulder to muffle the cry as she, too, came again.

  THEY STOOD TWINED together for a long time, their breath coming in gasps. When she moved to stand, their sweaty skin stuck together and pulled loose with a slick, muffled pop.

  She peered up at him. He looked dazed, and Rachel was certain she did as well. Her legs could barely hold her, and she was glad he was sturdy enough to lean on. She said, “That was …,” then trailed off. No words seemed adequate.

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  She caressed his arms and shoulders, her cheek against his chest. His heart rumbled like some powerful engine. “I don’t know how to explain—”

  “No,” he said. “You don’t have to.”

  She swallowed raggedly. “Will I ever see you again?”

  “I…” She could tell he was struggling to find something to say, some way to put into words what he was feeling. Her own emotions swelled at the knowledge that the transcendence had been mutual. Finally he shrugged and said with a smile, “Yes. Yes, you will.”

  It was enough. Rachel stood on tiptoes in the mud and kissed him as if the world might end.

  FIGHTING THE GIGGLES, they reached the bank and retrieved their clothes. Before she pulled on her shirt he kissed her again, hard and possessively, luxuriating in the way her breasts pressed against his chest. Then they scrambled back to his truck.

  ONCE AGAIN, neither noticed the other truck, parked on the street behind a Saab belonging to one of the huge, expensive lakeside homes. The figure inside the truck had witnessed, though not completely comprehended, their tryst in the water and seethed with fury and frustration as Rachel covered her bare skin. As the lovers drove away, the figure sat pondering, knowing that the final aspect of the plan must be implemented soon, for sanity’s sake if no other reason.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  MARTY WALKER GAZED at the report on his desk, his eyes slightly unfocused. It was the coroner’s preliminary results from the autopsy on Ling Hu, and it put everything he thought he knew about the case into limbo. He was forcing himself to go back to square one, to look at the disappearances of Faith Lucas and Carrie Kimmell as unrelated crimes instead of the sequel events he, and everyone else, assumed they were.

  Because Ling Hu had not been murdered.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” Julie Schutes said as she approached. At this time of night, the rest of the squad room was empty, except for one man at the far end playing solitaire on his computer.

  Marty stood, and they shook hands. “Awfully late for a pretty girl to be downtown alone, isn’t it?”

  She sat on the edge of his desk. “I’m no ‘girl,’ Detective. But thank you for the rest of it.”

  He returned to his chair. “What brings you around?”

  “Maybe I just wanted to talk to an old friend. We don’t see each other much these days.”

  He smiled knowingly. “Is that really it?”

  “Partially, yeah. I really have missed you and Chuck. But it’s also work-related. I know you’ve gotten the autopsy results on Ling Hu by now.”

  “And why do think I’d let you see them?”

  “Because I’m irresistible, even to gay men. And you know eventually they’ll be made public, so holding them back is just petty.”

  “Julie, you are a piece of work. Most people would be home watching TV by now.”

  “Most people, Marty. Not us.”

  “Besides, the final report will be out for all to see in a day or two. Why do you want to see the preliminary one now?”

  “Because news goes bad faster than Chinese food. No offense.”

  “I’m not Chinese.”

  “So can I see it?”

  He shrugged and nodded toward the file. “I didn’t show it to you.”

  “I found it in the garbage,” she agreed as she perused the report. He watched her frown, then scowl. “So she wasn’t murdered?”

  “Died of an acute asthma attack. She didn’t even drown; she was dead before she hit the water.”

  “And she had a recent, partial tattoo.” She paused and frowned again. “Who gets a partial tattoo?”

  “As you can see from the photographs, it was going to be pretty extensive. I’m guessing that it takes more than one session to color in that whole design.” He shook his head and added sadly, “Guess she won’t be making those appointments, huh?”

  “Recent ligature marks on her wrists and ankles. She’d been tied up multiple times. That’s something.”

  “Or not.”

  “How do y
ou mean?”

  “Her boyfriend—one of her boyfriends, I should say—told us she liked things a little rough. Enjoyed being tied up, coerced, that sort of thing.”

  Julie closed the file. “I didn’t know that,” she said with genuine surprise. “That’s not how her friends described her to me.”

  “There’s friends, and then there’s friends.”

  “What about the boyfriends?”

  “One was at home chatting online at the time she disappeared. Not a suspect. The other was a football player and might be, but my instinct says no. And if you keep reading, you’ll see there’s no evidence of either sexual assault or consensual sexual activity within the twenty-four hours prior to her death.”

  She put the file down and chewed her lip thoughtfully. “So is this related to the other disappearances?”

  Marty shrugged. “Ling Hu was a wild girl. I’m inclined to think she was sneaking around behind both boyfriends’ backs and things got out of hand. Whoever the guy was, he panicked and dumped the body. We’ll catch him and charge him, but not with murder.”

  Julie sighed and shook her head. “So much for the next Ed Gein.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  She stood and smoothed her skirt. “You never disappoint me, Ethan.”

  “Marty,” he corrected.

  She controlled her expression but could not restrain the blush. “Sorry. Marty.”

  “Any message?”

  “For Chuck?”

  “Or anyone else.”

  She smiled. “It’s nothing personal, I always wear my Freudian slip with this skirt.”

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks for not showing me the report, Marty.”

  “Anytime,” he said, watching her go.

  He picked up the phone and started to call Ethan, then saw the clock. It was after midnight. Whatever Ethan was up to, Marty knew he wouldn’t want it interrupted this late.