Slither

by Bernadette Gardner

  Rihana’s first instinct had been to turn and run, but there was no place to go. Vaguely she registered that her body was still in the shower and this was only her mind venturing out to “see” what lay on the other side of the locked bathroom door.

  Armed with the knowledge that she was invisible to the intruder, she turned her attention to the shape. Black masses were common in the quaking. Gramma Essie had explained that they weren’t all evil spirits. Some were collections of negative thoughts and emotions, floating around the macabre landscape like clouds. The symbols etched on her body would help protect her, but she still needed to approach such objects with caution. A filament of despair could easily attach itself to her psyche and follow her back through the door to reality.

  She focused her gaze on the shadow and found shape and substance there. This was not a smoky jumble of bad vibes; it was a figure. A man. She couldn’t make out his features but her instincts told her this was the same person who had been with Tanesha Wain at the moment of her death.

  Her heart thundered. Had he been in her apartment all along, hiding somewhere even though she’d searched every corner and closet before daring to close her eyes?

  He rose while she watched and moved through the bed.

  Even in this realm, a real, living creature couldn’t glide through solid objects. He was a ghost then, a spirit, and that meant he could see her.

  She backed up to let him pass, but he didn’t acknowledge her. Facing the bathroom door now, which she had opened and closed in order to leave the smaller room, he raised his hands and ran them along the doorjamb.

  He located the emergency key, a small cylindrical piece of metal with an eye on one end and shallow threads on the other. Unlike a regular key, it had no specific shape and could be used to open any of the push button locks in the apartment. He maneuvered it toward the tiny hole beneath the knob. In a moment he’d be inside the bathroom with her. She had to get back to her body, grab her gun and defend herself.

  Coming out of the quaking was like jumping through a sheet of ice or a freezing cascade of water. She had to take a deep breath first, then plunge, but it didn’t work this time.

  Instead of coming back into herself, she remained in the bedroom, standing behind the man as he opened the bathroom door. Oh God. She was stuck here. She’d be forced to watch him kill her or worse.

  She tried screaming, but nothing escaped from her open mouth except a puff of condensed air. Instinct bade her to try to stop him, but on this side of the bathroom door, she didn’t exist. Her outstretched hand went through his body, one filmy image colliding with another as he slowly turned the doorknob. As soon as a crack of white light appeared, Rihana thrust herself forward. If he had any awareness of her psychic presence, he didn’t let on. She moved with him one cautious step into the bathroom where pearlescent steam curled around the edges of the drawn shower curtain. Her body was a gray outline behind the thin sheet of plastic, motionless and completely vulnerable.

  At least he didn’t seem to notice her gun.

  She reached for the weapon, knowing she couldn’t fire it in this state, but she might be able to conjure enough psychic energy to push it off the sink. Please, please, please. She shoved at the Glock and it trembled. She’d moved it a millimeter. The intruder didn’t notice. He took another step and lifted his arm toward the curtain.

  Oh God. Come on! She shoved again. In reality her effort would have produced enough force to rattle the sink itself and dislodge the heavy weapon. Instead it barely shivered, producing just the faintest click against the porcelain. He probably hadn’t heard it over the rush of the shower water.

  Dark fingers wrapped around the edge of the curtain and Rihana watched in horror as he pulled the useless barrier slowly back to reveal her naked body, standing like a mannequin in the tub. She screamed again and this time he heard her.

  Chapter Six

  Heath rang Rihana’s doorbell a second time, stabbing his finger impatiently at the small white button on the doorframe. If she didn’t answer in twenty seconds, he planned to break down the door.

  If she actually wasn’t home, he’d worry about feeling foolish later. Right now, something compelled him to find her and make sure she was all right.

  He raised his clenched fist to knock just as rustling sounds reached him through the door. His heart raced while he listened to the series of clicks that had to represent the requisite collection of safety locks being thrown open. When she finally flung open the door and glared at him, he swallowed hard and let the relief wash over him. Disengaging from his worried brain, his cock responded to the vision before him by pressing against his zipper.

  She was wet. Dripping. A fluffy crimson robe hung haphazardly from her shoulders, yanked tight at the waist with a matching belt and gaping precariously open to allow him a tantalizing view of one thigh. Her hair was slicked back, giving her the sleek appearance of a sea goddess. Water clung to her lashes and droplets ran down her neck into her scandalously visible cleavage. She held a gun in her right hand.

  “Thank God it’s you.” Her words didn’t match the look on her face. She sounded thrilled to see him, but her eyes flashed with repressed anger, which was reflected in the dark red streaks of her aura. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  He blinked, not sure which comment to respond to first. “I was concerned.”

  “You damn well better be.” She whirled around and strode across the room beyond. Heath took that as a wordless invitation to follow, only because she could have simply slammed the door in his face. He hurried over the threshold and shut the door behind him.

  “Ah…maybe you should put the weapon down?” The pistol looked huge in her delicate hand, but no less dangerous than if she’d been a man. Though he really wasn’t concerned that she’d shoot him, accidentally or on purpose, Heath didn’t like the way her hand shook.

  Fortunately, she saw the inherent danger of the situation and slowly set the gun down on the end table next to the sofa. Then she turned toward him, hands on her hips, nails digging into the blood-red terry cloth. “How did you know where I lived?”

  “Internet search with my cell phone.” He didn’t explain that a mildly illegal search engine had provided her building address and the strange psychic connection they now seemed to share had led him to the right floor and apartment. “What’s wrong? Detective Brogan said you’d called in sick.”

  Was he imagining the steam rising from her exposed skin? God, she was gorgeous. Eyes flashing, chest heaving, she looked like a sexual storm about to rain all over him.

  “Dickhead.” She added a few more creative curses, then flung her hand in the air. “Him, not you. I don’t know what you are.”

  He probably should have been insulted by that, but he smiled instead. She was still alive and for some reason that knowledge made him buoyant. “You seem agitated.”

  His mild comment set her off like a bomb. “Agitated? No freaking kidding. He was here. Your psycho serpent smoke killer was in my apartment thirty seconds ago.”

  Heath tensed and his gaze slid reluctantly away from the vengeful goddess in front of him to the shadows at the corners of the room. “That can’t be. You’d be dead if he’d found you.”

  “He found me. I saw him. I think he was here last night, maybe all night, watching me.”

  Heath didn’t wait for an invitation. He rushed past her and made a quick but thorough circuit of the small apartment. The kitchen was too narrow to hold more than one person at a time. The bedroom was empty, the window locked securely. The bathroom was tiny and still warm and damp. She followed him from closet to closet, standing with her arms crossed over her chest while he threw open doors and rummaged through hanging clothes.

  “Where did he go?”

  “Great question. That’s one for Houdini.” She walked away, straightening her robe and raising the collar around her throat. “I was in the shower and I heard something. I saw him. He was in the bathroom. He’d found the key, unlocked
the door and was about to…God knows what he was about to do. Then he vanished. Poof. Like smoke.” Despair clouded her brilliant eyes for a moment. “The door was still locked. The key was still in place when I got out of the tub.”

  “So he wasn’t here?”

  “He was. I saw him. I followed him through the bedroom and watched him come after me, then he was gone.”

  Heath tried to keep the skepticism out of his voice. “The Gemii can disappear quickly, but if the door hadn’t actually been touched…”

  “You don’t believe me.”

  “I do believe you. I just don’t understand it.”

  “He’s watching me. He knows I was with you and he probably thinks we had sex. Now I’m a target just like you said.”

  Heath had no doubt that was true. What he didn’t understand was why the Gemii hadn’t just killed him first and taken care of Rihana later. The longer Heath lived, the more chances he would have to spread his seed. “Sit down. You’re shaking.”

  “I’m shaking all right. I’ve been shaking all night.” She paced, the hem of her robe fluttering with each long step.

  Heath couldn’t take his eyes off her legs and the perfectly formed muscles of her calves. His balls ached, distracting him from the problem at hand. “Why didn’t you call the police?”

  “Because there was no one here. I searched the place, all over. I put every light on. I checked all the windows, then I fell asleep and I had these…disturbing dreams.”

  He raised a brow. “What kind of dreams?”

  She blushed and cinched her belt tighter. Unconsciously, she seemed to move away from him and she didn’t meet his gaze when she replied. “First it was the snakes.” She gestured toward his forearms. “I saw them again, here, on the floor, on the walls. Then I saw you. I was with you and we…”

  “Made love.” His shower fantasy had been supremely satisfying, probably because she’d shared it with him through the connection she’d initiated.

  A fresh wave of anger washed over her. “We didn’t make love. I dreamed of you fucking me, but it was just sex. Just a dream.”

  “But it felt real, didn’t it?”

  She shivered and gave a reluctant nod.

  “Because it was, to a degree. When you…tore into my mind yesterday you created a link between us. You shared my dreams.”

  Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened. “You had the same dream?”

  “Well…I didn’t dream, actually. I imagined.”

  Her shocked expression actually made her even more beautiful. “What we did…you made that up? You daydreamed about me?”

  “What man wouldn’t?”

  She tossed her head, dismissing his comment. “You’re some kind pervert.”

  “Because I masturbated in the shower while I thought about a stunningly beautiful woman who I can’t get out of my head?”

  “You made me feel it. I…”

  Heath stepped close to her, into the envelope of her warm, clean scent. “No, Miss Daniels. You made you feel it. You used your gift to look into my mind and maybe for a man from your world that would have no lasting effect on either of you, but with me it created a subliminal bond. You wanted to get inside my head. Now you’re there.”

  Their gazes held for an electric moment during which Heath chose to show Rihana even more of his fantasies. He threw an image at her of the two of them tangled in bed, white satin sheets twining amid their limbs as their bodies writhed. He showed her the moment of their shared climax, her back arched, fingers clutching the shimmering material, her mouth open in a sigh of ecstasy while he pumped into her. It was a ruthless tactic really, crude for someone of his station, but by his estimation, necessary to show her the full extent of their unintended connection.

  He expected her response to be shock and anger mixed, hopefully, with a hint of arousal. What occurred instead left him gaping in surprise.

  She fought back with an image of her own. In her version, she straddled him and lowered her glorious body over his tumescent erection. He clutched her hips and thrust upward, drawing a scream of desire from her. He felt the climax she imagined, just as she had, and the force of their shared orgasm drew their bodies together like magnets.

  * * * * *

  Rihana’s thoughts lost all coherence the moment Heath touched her. She’d been a raw nerve from the moment she’d come back to herself in the shower, fumbled for her gun and threw the bathroom door open, searching for someone to shoot. She suspected it had been the sound of the doorbell that scared away her psychic intruder or simply disrupted her trance. Either way, Heath’s arrival had spared her what she knew would have been a violent end to a real or imagined confrontation.

  Her inner tremors hadn’t eased upon finding him at her door, though. In fact, through their entire conversation her body shook. She felt like a lit fuse, crackling and sizzling toward an explosion she wouldn’t be able to control, and when he showed her the vision of their bodies joined, every pent-up emotion she had boiled over.

  Vaguely she recognized the hands that tore at his belt buckle as her own. With surgical precision, she pulled the leather strap out of its metal fastening, opened the button of his jeans and pushed the zipper down. She had to work around his hands, which were busy untying the soft belt of her robe.

  She gasped when he drew the thick material open and off her shoulders and she dropped her arms momentarily to let the garment slip off her body completely. She didn’t think about being naked or about reaching into the underwear of a man she’d met less than twenty-four hours ago and pulling his cock out for her inspection.

  He pushed her hands away long enough to shove his pants down and step out of them and he pulled his shirt off while she dropped to her knees in front of him. She hadn’t felt this kind of urgency since she was seventeen and racing with Sam on dirt bikes to the back of his family’s barn, so hyped on teenage hormones that she could come merely from riding the bumpy lanes out beyond the pasture.

  His erection was bigger than she imagined and no doubt paler than Sam’s. She’d never seen the younger man’s penis. It wasn’t something a good girl did—look at a man’s cock—and besides, whenever he was about to do it, she’d always closed her eyes tight to spare herself the vision of her own sin. This time, she wanted to look.

  She took him in one hand and let her fingers play over the taut shaft. The skin there felt like velvet, stretched over a perfect male form. All the lines and curves flowed beautifully from the minute slit in the head to the thick base nestled in dark blond curls. He was long and hot, hard but flexible enough that she could maneuver him toward her mouth while she cupped his balls. He groaned and thrust his hips forward, eager for what she had to offer.

  She took him into her mouth, letting the stainless steel ball of her tongue piercing slide along the bottom of his glans and down his shaft. He uttered a series of words that she assumed were curses, though they didn’t sound like English, and he clutched at her wet hair. She smiled around the fleshy intrusion. This would top any fantasy he’d already had of her.

  Closing her mouth over the tip of his penis, she rubbed her tongue back and forth and squeezed his balls lightly. The muscles in his thighs flexed and he grunted something that definitely sounded like encouragement. That prompted her to take him in deeper, to the back of her throat, then she backed off just far enough to settle her piercing at the base of his glans. She pressed the tiny metal ball into the spot where the soft head met the granite-hard shaft and just as she anticipated, he groaned and bent forward.

  Next she licked him up and down, drawing lines of sensation with her hardware that left him panting. His body trembled. He cupped the back of her head and gently eased her forward to take him in again, all the way. The head of his cock slid along the roof of her mouth, and she tapped her tongue on his shaft and licked again, lost in the power she had over him. Each movement of her lips and tongue caused a reaction in him, a pulse in his cock, a tightening of his abs or the muscles of his thighs.
She controlled him and she loved it.

  “I’m coming…” He’d barely uttered the words before he exploded. His cum shot into her mouth, a hot, salty stream that she swallowed eagerly. She couldn’t get enough. To help him along, she squeezed his balls and sucked the head, letting the metal stud roll against the pulsing tip until he had nothing left. Then she released him and licked her lips.

  She let him go and he staggered back a step then went down on his knees in front of her. “My God…I want to fuck you.”

  “So do it. I’m on the Pill. I won’t get pregnant.”

  “It doesn’t matter to the Gemii…”

  “No, it doesn’t. Fuck me, Heath, because I need it or I’ll lose my mind. I can’t control it.”

  She sensed his hesitation even as she put her hands on his chest and pushed him backward. He wanted her, but part of his mind was occupied with concern for the assassin, working out the logistics of his successful escape. She knew that because she saw his thoughts, the images of them splayed together on the carpet next to her sofa, tearing at each other in mating heat, juxtaposed with visions of him pulling her along while they ran from a shadowy, incorporeal threat.

  Something hissed, and out of the corner or her eye, she swore she saw movement. A shape slithered toward the door. Heath’s eyes followed it, but his hands sought her breasts. Vaguely, as she arched into his embrace, she registered that his forearms were bare. The twining serpents were gone.

  She didn’t comment. Her brain wouldn’t let her form words and her mouth was busy, caught by his. He pushed his tongue between her lips and she suckled it just as she had his cock. She tasted sweet and spicy at the same time, with a hint of musk and salt from his cum. He wrapped himself around her and asserted his dominance, pushing her back and stretching her out on the floor beneath him.

  The images in their minds collided and battled just as their bodies did. Rihana sighed at the sensation of his lean hips sliding between her spread thighs. She crossed her legs over his ass and threaded her arms under his to grip his shoulders.