Once Upon A Midnight

by Stephanie Rowe

  Ice chuckled deep and low, and the warm slippery stirrings between Jessie’s legs kicked up a notch.

  Smoke filled the cave. The strange fragrance of oak and herbs stung her eyes and nostrils. It was similar to the dry Italian herb seasoning she liked to toss teasingly onto the barbeque. Her dad came running every time to make sure she wasn’t toking on some illicit drugs. Her pot days were long gone, but Cade’s memories of his daughter’s wild teen years weren’t. No matter how often she messed with him, he still had to check it out.

  Jessie wondered what she was getting high on tonight. All the tension and fear melted away. Her eyes grew heavy and began to dilate. The heat intensified. Jessie set the sickly cub away from her. The sweet tainted air made her woozy and her body swayed.

  Jessie inhaled deeper.

  Sweat trickled down her back and her face flushed from the heat of the fire. She discarded her jacket and shook out the hem of her shirt.

  Ice grinned expectantly.

  Her defenses were down. Jessie returned Ice’s wolfish grin, and said, “You dog. Whatever you threw on the fire is good stuff. My arm doesn’t even hurt.”

  Ice placed the cub next to his brother and they both began to sob their baby-like cry. Ignoring them, he gathered her shirt in his hands and pulled her towards him. His lips brushed delicately against hers.

  Jessie wanted to feel the length of his muscular body against her, but her impaired equilibrium made it impossible for her to stay upright. She crashed into a pile of furry blankets and her fingers caressed its soft nap. Jessie didn’t remember the pelts being there, but since Ice was busy completing the job of removing her shirt, that bizarre little detail didn’t seem to matter. In her rush out the door, Jessie had not bothered to put on a bra. Her breasts spilled out unbound and free.

  The admiring grin on Ice’s face made the tingling in Jessie’s lower extremities take flight. His mouth came down, and the sexy man took his time tasting and caressing her nipples.

  The cubs’ cries grew more urgent and insistent, but Jessie barely noticed them. She wanted to stay focused on what Ice was doing to her. Ice ignored the arching of her hips, which begged him to travel lower and stayed concentrated solely on her bosom. Paying equal attention to the girls, Ice squeezed and teased them with relentless fervor.

  An inkling of something she hadn’t felt in ages tingled throughout her chest. Her breasts became increasingly sensitive, and moisture trickled out.

  Jessie’s eyes flew wide open. Her milk was letting down!

  Ice’s mouth clamped down. The suction he created was so intense, it bordered on painful. When she struggled, his strong hands pinned her arms over her head. Ice released her breast and his lips kissed her mouth. One knee wedged between her legs and pressed against her groin. The distraction worked. Ice continued to tease her. The pressure between her legs varied rhythmically from side to side. It wasn’t long before she was once again consumed with passion. The rest of the world ceased to exist. She no longer cared about anything other than the rapture spreading out across her body. With each moan and pleasure-filled gasp, her milk flowed more easily.

  His attention returned to her breasts. Ice gave one a gentle squeeze, and a milk spray hit her in the face. Jessie knew she was totally wasted when she licked the sweet nectar and smiled.

  The cubs pounced and sucked up the much needed nourishment. Slowly, the realization that Ice brought her here for the sole purpose of suckling the babies crept into her mind. It was impossible! She had been dry for over five years, but as unimaginable as it seemed, there was milk. Her brain rebelled against the unnatural phenomenon, but she was unable to move her limbs. Jessie had become a powerless observer, nothing more.

  Ice tugged off her jeans as the cubs nursed.

  With every breath of the smoky air, Jessie’s inhibitions drifted further and further away. The million and one sensations pulsating throughout her body were both pleasurable and painful. The cubs were not gentle, but even their rough tongues and sharp baby teeth invoked a sensual response.

  Completely nude, she lay bare to Ice in every way. The cubs pressed their paws against her teats and slurped their way into a sleepy delirium. Just as with her own children, Jessie found herself loving it and wanting it to go on forever.

  When they were satisfied and purring contently, Ice set the cubs near the fire to sleep it off. He turned his full attention to Jessie and his large hands slowly inched up her legs. The massaging action of his firm fingers dug into her muscles and whisked away any remaining inhibitions. The passion raging within her was overwhelming. He settled himself between her thighs and Jessie rejoiced, knowing satisfaction was within reach.

  For what seemed an eternity, Ice kept his eyes locked onto her womanhood.

  Watching.

  A smile played on his lips. He liked what he saw, but he hungered for more, so the hunter waited.

  Jessie groaned with excitement and anticipation. She longed to be touched, but she refused to beg. The taste of copper forced her to release the grip her teeth had on her tongue.

  Unwilling to wait any longer, Jessie fought against the weight of her limbs and tried to take matters into her own hands. A weak arm reached for him, but he easily brushed her hand away. Jessie feebly clawed at his wrists, but it was no use.

  “Breathe, Jessie,” he whispered through his own ragged breath. “Relax and give it all to me.”

  Jessie didn’t know what more she could give without being able to move or touch him. Not wanting the rapture to end, she did as he asked. Jessie relaxed into the folds of the pelts and sucked in a few more hits of the smoky air. His gaze bore down on her sex. The thought of him watching her was wildly erotic. Her breath quickened, and she felt herself open up to him even more.

  A purr-like moan hummed deep within Ice’s chest. He dipped his head between her legs, and she gasped with need. Her body withered with lust and desire. His tongue shot out and licked her erect nub, and Jessie screamed with pleasure.

  5

  THE SOUND OF her own scream woke Jessie up.

  Startled and confused, her eyes darted around the room. Sunlight streamed in through the window of her childhood bedroom. Jessie’s heart pounded wildly and she wondered if it had all been a dream. Instead of wearing a knit shirt, her body was clad in her favorite flannel pajamas.

  The last thing she remembered was being in the mine with Ice and the cubs.

  The baby mountain lions had suckled her breasts. Jessie raced over to the mirror mounted above the dresser and pulled up her top. Her breasts showed no signs of having been mauled by the cubs. They appeared perfectly normal, not swollen or tender in any way.

  It wasn’t possible.

  Jessie scoured the tidy room for the clothing she wore the night before and found them hanging in the closet. With her nose pressed into the material of her shirt, she searched for any hint of the smoky oak aroma. The only odor detected was laundry detergent. As usual, her hiking boots resided on the floor beside the bed. Cleaned and polished, there was no indication of having tromped through the woods the previous night.

  On the surface, everything appeared to be normal, except for the fact that she was a slob. Piles of clothes pitched haphazardly throughout the room was the norm, and other than giving them a good banging every once in a while, she had never once in her entire life cleaned her boots.

  One other overwhelming piece of evidence that the previous night actually happened was the longing she still felt. Ice had not finished the job. He left her wanting, and it was pure agony.

  The Foster boys were at it again. They had manipulated her twice, and that was two times too many. If the cubs existed, she would find them. Maps of the area had to show the second entrance to the mine. Before she went half-cocked back up on Catamount Ridge, Jessie needed to get the lowdown on the Foster family. She thought her cousin, Sally, might be able to fill in a few details. It probably wouldn’t be enough, but Sally was always a good place to start. If nothing else, her cousin’s co
mforting voice would help soothe her confused and troubled mind.

  Jessie picked up her cell phone and pulled up the number. “Sally, where can I find Grandma Foster?”

  “Don’t go there, cuz,” Sally warned from the other end of the line. “You enter at your own risk when dealing with the Foster family. I can’t tell you how many times Ice has been questioned for one infraction or another.”

  Lead number one. The type of crimes he committed might be the key to discovering his true nature. “What kind of infractions?” she asked.

  “For starters, the boy was a big fat bully back in school. By the time he got to high school, he progressed to boosting cars and cutting class. The stint in juvie for drug possession sent him away for a while. Nothing lately, but Isaac Foster is bad news. I can’t emphasize that enough.”

  Sally’s warning did not fall on deaf ears. Jessie would give anything to never have to deal with Ice again. “What about Derek? Has he been in trouble with the law?”

  “The dynamics of that family are strange,” Sally sighed. “Those boys are more like brothers than cousins. When one is bad, the other is good, at least on the outside. I don’t like to speak ill of the elderly, but the apple never falls far from the tree and old lady Foster is one sick piece of work. Those boys never had a chance.”

  Sally was running around in circles. Jessie needed more.

  “Sally,” she prompted. “Ice and Derek are messing with me. I don’t have enough proof to go to the authorities, but my gut tells me something is about to go down. If you have any information, I need to hear it. My life could be at stake.”

  The silence on the other end of the line was deafening. Jessie closed her eyes and waited patiently.

  Her cousin’s voice dropped to a whisper. “A few years back, a young woman named Lizzy became involved with both Derek and Ice. You might remember her. She’s Zack and Mable’s daughter.”

  Jessie remembered Zack and Mable. Her dad bowled with them every Tuesday night for about half a century. All she recalled about their daughter was that she had been shy and introverted.

  “Go on,” Jessie urged. “What happened to her?”

  “Zack and Mable had to institutionalize her. The poor girl came off the ridge ranting about being kidnapped by monster cats and being held in a cage. It was worse than any alien abduction story I’ve ever heard. Little Lizzy was never right in the head after that. A few months later, they had her committed. Her parents sold out and moved to a retirement community closer to the facility. I haven’t seen them in ages, but whatever happened on Catamount Ridge destroyed their family. The same thing might happen to you, Jessie. Stay away from the Fosters. It isn’t healthy.”

  The Fosters weren’t staying away from her. Jessie didn’t have a choice. It wasn’t going to be the response Sally wanted, but she asked anyway. “What’s the name of Lizzy’s facility?”

  “Oh, Jess. Leave the poor girl alone. She’s been through enough.”

  “Then give me the number for Zack and Mable. Maybe they’ll have some insight.”

  It didn’t really matter if Sally coughed up the number. The couple would be easy enough to track down. Mental hospitals and retirement communities were scarce up here in the foothills. If successful, her strategy would ease her cousin into revealing what she knew about the old woman who raised Ice and Derek.

  • • •

  AFTER LISTENING TO another half an hour of Sally’s unnecessary warnings, her cousin relented and gave Jessie the information she wanted.

  Grandma Foster was recovering from a stroke at the nursing home across the street from the hospital. Sally didn’t know if the woman was capable of verbal communication, or what her prognosis was, but she warned that the old lady was close to a hundred years old and that she needed to be treated with kid gloves.

  Sally wasn’t the only hurdle she had to leap before consulting with the old bat. Jessie spent a good part of the day arguing and bribing her way through the entire staff of administrators and even fellow convalescents until she came face-to-face with the notorious Grandma Foster.

  The first picture Jessie had of the old lady was of her dozing in a wheelchair outside on the terrace. Easy summer breezes wafted through her long wiry gray hair as the leaves of a Japanese maple rustled in the background. She was a slight woman and her thin, terry cloth robe hung limply over a pair of faded pink pajamas. The lady’s crippled feet rested on the wheelchair’s cold steel footrest. The day was warm, but it seemed odd that she didn’t have slippers on.

  Marigold’s face bore signs of all the trouble her ninety plus years had brought her, and her wrinkled hands shook uncontrollably in her lap.

  The head administrator shot Jessie one last warning before stepping back to stand guard over their visit. She ignored the scowl and gently nudged the old woman’s bony shoulder.

  “Mrs. Foster,” she whispered softly. When the old woman’s paper thin lids fluttered open, she introduced herself. “I’m Jessie Marcus. I’m here to speak with you about your grandsons.”

  Marigold grabbed her hand and gripped it with surprising force. Familiar steel-blue eyes glowered up and Marigold’s ancient nails dug into Jessie’s flesh.

  It all became clear. Jessie had been walking around with blinders on. The staff’s concern hadn’t been for their patient’s safety, but for her own.

  Visibly shaken, Jessie tore her hand away. Blood oozed where the old woman’s claw had raked across her skin. Jessie turned away to regain her composure. She grabbed a metal chair from a nearby table, and very deliberately scraped it across the concrete patio. The old woman flinched at the irritating sound, and Jessie smiled.

  Before she got down to business, Jess blew a few strands of hair out of her face. With fierce determination, she met the old woman glare for glare. “What can you tell me about your grandsons?”

  The old woman narrowed her eyes.

  Jessie didn’t expect much. If the woman was anything like her grandsons, she would play it close to the vest. Taking a cue from Ice, Jessie crossed her arms over her chest and waited.

  Grandma Foster let out a creaky laugh. “You’ve already done it! You fed the panther.” Almost kindly, she reached over and patted Jessie’s knee.

  Despite the circumstantial bits of evidence, Jessie hadn’t believed it was true. Now she had to face it. A supernatural freak of nature resided up on Catamount Ridge. Jessie wanted to call the old battle-ax crazy. She wanted to rail against the insanity, but time was short. If she wanted out of this mess, she needed more information.

  “Speak up old woman,” Jessie commanded. “Fill me in.”

  • • •

  ARMED WITH A buttload of knowledge she wished she never had to acquire, Jessie sat at her desk and studied every known detail of the Red Mine. In the wee hours of the morning, the ranger station was empty and eerily quiet. No one expected her to be here, and that was exactly how Jessie wanted it.

  Derek had been employed by the Forest Service for over five years and enjoyed the perfect position which allowed him to hide his unique characteristics. The possibility that her staff knew of his uncommon abilities and was helping to protect him seemed likely. His position had been on the chopping block for the last few years. Her predecessor, Captain Mills, had dismissed rangers with more seniority to keep him employed. The last one in was typically the first one out, but somehow Derek managed to beat the system.

  The call to Captain Mills would have to wait until morning. In all honesty, she didn’t think it would lead anywhere. The only possible excuse to keep Derek on was because the program he spearheaded was too important to let go. No other officer had volunteered to isolate themselves up in the hills twenty-four hours a day to monitor the habits of the local wildlife, so Derek kept his job when others did not.

  Jessie had not been back in town or in command for long, but she grew up here. Yet, not a single co-worker called to inquire about her health after the attack. No one except Derek Foster, who, according to his grandmother, co
uld change into a mountain lion at will. Surreal as it sounded, Jessie believed the crux of the crazy woman’s wild tirade.

  His cousin, Ice, had the same ability.

  Jessie sensed the cubs were Ice’s offspring, but Derek had taken her up on the ridge to help perpetuate the species. According to their grandmother, in order for the cubs to acquire the same ability as their father, they had to be nursed by a human surrogate or they would stay feline forever. One nursing wouldn’t do the job. They needed to be nurtured like a human child. The bond formed with their human mother, along with the nutrition she provided, created the link that enabled them to shift between man and beast. Without both, the cubs would remain ordinary mountain lions and never acquire their father’s ability to shift.

  Ice accused Derek of killing the cubs’ mother. Why they chose Jessie to be their surrogate was beyond her, but at least she hadn’t gone over the edge like Zack and Mable’s daughter.

  Large doses of the herbal mixture had caused the young woman to suffer a psychotic break.

  Twenty-four hours later, Jessie still felt the aftereffects of the concoction Ice threw on the fire. The correct dosage had to still be in question. Jessie was nothing more than a guinea pig to these people and she was extremely lucky she hadn’t suffered the same fate as Lizzy. Unlike the shy daughter of Zack and Mable, Jessie was more than able to fight back. If she had anything to say about it, the crimes the Foster family committed would not go unpunished.

  There were still things Jessie hadn’t been able to figure out. One of them being why Derek killed the cubs’ mother before finding an appropriate surrogate?

  Grandma Foster rambled off a lot of stuff Jessie didn’t understand. Most of what she dished out bordered on pure poppycock, but Jessie believed that somewhere in the muck resided bits and pieces of the truth.

  Jessie couldn’t be sure, but the slight contradictions in Marigold’s story suggested that the old cougar could no longer shift. The staff was frightened of the old lady. Jessie gave them every opportunity to tell her why. She even dropped a few feline references hoping to get them talking, but the staff remained stoic. Time would tell. If a mangy old mountain lion suddenly appeared walking down the stark white halls of the convalescent center, the Forest Service would undoubtedly be called in, and Jessie would have her answer.