Blood Sugar

by Kat Turner

  “Welcome.” Her tone was polite but crisp. “Thanks, Carlos. I can take it from here.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Carlos left the way they’d came, and in an instant the jungle absorbed him.

  A bit of worry needled Jonnie, though he supposed the guide was at home in this environment and could make his way back to the boat just fine. He and Eve, though, were neither at home nor at peace with the jungle wilds. And now, they were stranded. Though this woman greeting them looked harmless, a young blonde with child, he needed to remember that he and Eve were strangers here. On the turf of others. Meaning he ought to keep his protective instincts, instincts he’d never really had to use, keen.

  “I’m Taylor.” The pregnant horsewoman stuck out a hand.

  “Jonnie Tollens. How do you do?” Jonnie shook, finding Taylor’s handshake strong and confident. A good sign. He’d protect both women if he had to, but this one seemed set up here in the way that Carlos did.

  “Eve. Nice to meet you.” The women shook hands. Without another word, Taylor took hold of a rope attached to her horse’s bridle and led everyone down another path. This one was colder, darker, less trampled. Its smell was rich with the mineral essence of fertile soil.

  “Got some rain recently?” A shiver made gooseflesh burst on his arms, and for a second he considered rooting in his pack for a jacket but nixed the notion. He didn’t want to look scatterbrained in front of their guest, in case she was sizing them up.

  She hitched a shoulder. “It’s always like this.”

  They walked for another ten or so minutes, the only sounds coming from the horse, the trees, and their three sets of feet. Taylor wasn’t much of a conversationalist, and he got it. He was grateful to her for taking them in in the first place, and it was selfish to expect a warm welcome like one might get at a bed and breakfast. He and Eve hadn’t yet earned these people’s trust, not by a long shot.

  “When are you due?” Eve asked.

  “Any day now.” Yet her breathing was steady and unlabored as they hiked, a marker of fantastic endurance and fitness. “My husband tried to insist on coming out to pick you guys up, but I need the exercise.” She tossed a glance over her shoulder and winked. “Besides, he’s way scarier than I am. Didn’t want him running the two of you off.”

  “Scarier?” Normally, Jonnie would have been more than a little unnerved. He wasn’t a huge or ripped man. Personality-wise, he was an artist and a friend, and not some hulking alpha male bruiser. Except now he had cool new moves and was more than a little curious about Mr. Scary.

  In the distance, a wolf howled, followed by the wild whoops of several others. Taylor offered another smirk. Jonnie quirked a brow.

  “Showoff.” Taylor chuckled.

  He and Eve exchanged looks. The slight upturn of her lips and glimmer in her eye let him know she wasn’t afraid either. His brave woman. Well, not his exactly, but…

  “Alright, welcome to your five-star hotel,” Taylor said. A second clearing emerged, yet this one held three enclosures. Each structure, about the size of a modest den, consisted of a wooden foundation elevated several feet off the ground by four thick posts. On each flat surface sat two pairs of bunk beds, visible through sheer tents of mosquito netting.

  “We do eco tours.” Taylor tied her horse to a tree. She motioned with a hand, walking up a short set of lumber steps and parting a mesh curtain. “It’s how we sustain ourselves, other than hunting and farming and selling our wares at the market. Oh. That reminds me.” Taylor went to a dresser and pulled open a drawer with a soft wooden squeak. Rummaging sounds ensued.

  “Ugh, where did he put it?” The pregnant woman opened and closed creaky drawers.

  Jonnie set his pack down, heat rising from crotch to hairline as he realized that he and Eve would be sleeping in such close quarters.

  “Top or bottom?” A naughty, self-aware lilt lifted Eve’s speech as she shed her backpack and leaned against the bunk’s ladder. In sensible shorts that wrapped around her curvy hips and a snug tee shirt, Eve had him wondering what color bra and panties she’d chosen. If the hair between her legs matched the dark curls topping her head. He’d sure like to slide into her.

  “I can go either way.” And boy, could he. He could pound Eve from behind, lie on his back while she fucked him senseless. Urge her to her knees and feed her his cock. Finger and lick her cunt.

  “A switch, are you?” Her eyes gleamed, seductive even with that clunky piece of camping gear stuck to her face.

  He gave her nothing more than a shrug in reply. He’d explored all sorts of things, with both men and women, in the pursuit of pleasure for his partners and himself. He supposed that made him bisexual, though he’d always just thought of himself as having an anything goes mentality. Jonnie was a trysexual. He’d try anything.

  “I’m so intrigued, it’s not even funny,” she said.

  Right now, more than anything, he longed to alleviate Eve’s intrigue.

  “Argh, here it is. No playing grab ass until you drink this, Lestat.” Two hard pats to his arm broke the flirtatious mood. In her hand, Taylor held a plastic two-liter soda bottle with the label ripped off. Some thick substance the color of tomato soup filled it halfway.

  “What is it?”

  Taylor poked the bottle into his shoulder. “The stuff that’ll keep you from dying of heatstroke when dawn breaks tomorrow.”

  His heart leapt. “How did you know…that I was a…what I was?”

  The expat rolled her eyes. “You think we didn’t vet the shit out of both of you before agreeing to take you in?”

  He took the bottle from her and tilted it in her direction. “Touché. Well, cheers.” Jonnie unscrewed the cap, paused for a breath, and chugged. The thick brew, pungent and bitter and tasting of all sorts of herbs and vegetation, made his mouth water and his gag reflex lurch. Nausea clamped down on his guts as the stuff hit his stomach, but he forced himself not to puke as he drank the shite until it was gone.

  “Bloody hell,” he gasped when he was through. “What the fuck did you feed me, love?”

  “Ayahuasca. It’s a sacred hallucinogen our shamans concoct using certain leaves and roots. Most people take it for the intense visions as part of a spiritual quest, but we found out that it also keeps vampires alive. So those of you who can’t or choose not to use blood can take it for said purpose. Tomorrow I’ll show you how to make it yourself and where to buy the ingredients when you fly back home. Until then, enjoy your ride through the cosmos, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Taylor patted his stomach, took the empty and shoved it in her backpack, and rejoined her horse. She mounted up and rode off into the jungle.

  Ride through the cosmos?

  Nine

  Restless and sweaty in her top bunk, Eve stared at the triangular apex of the translucent cloth roof while its fabric flapped gently. A light, hot breeze trickled through netting walls. The cries of monkeys and other nocturnal jungle fauna supplied a soundtrack of life.

  Though she could make out the movement of leaves dancing in the minimal wind, a cloud cover had rolled in and blotted out the stars and moon. She took in the sawdust scent of what had to be a new structure, a smell of homey, rustic freshness that should have comforted her.

  Darkness pushed in from all sides, so heavy her bones felt like lead. Itchy sheets chafed her overheated, sticky skin. Jittery energy as restless as the leg she couldn’t stop shaking filled her belly.

  Taylor had made it sound like Jonnie would go on some wild and trippy ride, but instead of flying through a hallucinogenic cosmos, the lucky bastard slept peacefully in the bed below her.

  Though she envied his tranquility, empathy for him underscored the petty emotion. From the sounds of things, they’d found a promising solution to his problem with this ayahuasca.

  No promising info on the squirrel issue or Lacey conundrum lay on the foreseeable horizon. Eve had felt a little invisible in front of Taylor, like Jonnie’s affliction was the only thing on her
and her community’s radar. A lump cemented in her chest. Had Jonnie even told these people that Eve had a stake in coming here? Did anyone involved care, or was it all about him?

  If the latter was in fact the case, then what in the fuck was she doing down here, at the edge of civilization? Looking at mosquito netting, her hands tangled in her own hair as she begged some unknown sandman for the blessing of sleep. Frustration cinched her midsection, making it tough to breathe. She had a job, a life, and didn’t make a point of chasing men around the world.

  Perhaps a drink of water would clear her head. She hadn’t packed her Ambien alongside the malaria pills Jonnie’s assistant managed to scare up at the last minute, and of course her dumb ass regretted her dubious decision to seek natural sleep on the Peru trip.

  How misguided, to think her fear of sleep wouldn’t chase her down here. God, she’d been thinking like a naïve college kid with Walden shoved in her backpack, seduced by a facile fantasy that retreating into nature would cure her woes, salve her wound. At least the demon rat hadn’t reared its skinned head. The absurdity of it all startled a barking laugh out of Eve as she adjusted her body and made her way down the bunk bed ladder.

  Midway to the ground, a warm hand gripped her ankle.

  “I care,” Jonnie said in a calm, reassuring voice. “And I told them as much about you as I did about me. We’re in this together, Eve. Don’t forget it.” He let go of her leg.

  She hopped off the ladder, coming to stand on the unpainted lumber floor. He lay there in his bottom bunk, on top of the sheets, in blue silk boxers and nothing else. The ultimate distraction from her hamster wheel of angsty ruminations.

  At the sight of so much of his exposed, taut flesh, her panties dampened. His legs were crossed at the ankle, a position showing off the flexed curve of his thigh muscle. Muggy humidity heightened her senses, steering her mind to thoughts of nakedness and sweat. Bodies banging together in primal abandon.

  “Have you always been able to read my thoughts?” More curious than scared or offended, she sat next to him on the bed, fighting the urge to touch. He scooted a few inches closer to the wall to make room for her.

  “No. It’s what I drank. It’s incredible, Eve. I feel things inside of me, speaking to me. Truths. I see my DNA changing, merging. There are snakes, everywhere, in this room. But they aren’t bad. They are sacred, ancient, wise. It’s this new me, and I’m merging into it completely. And it isn’t bad. It’s true and right and good.”

  Though amazed, she tensed in jealousy. Shame for her selfishness kicked in. What the hell was her problem? She’d come to Peru to help him, and now she resented him for finding closure simply because it hadn’t come to her as quickly.

  “That’s amazing, Jonnie.” An attempt to produce enthusiasm didn’t make it into her tone, and her shoulders slumped. She felt about an inch tall, at once petty and petulant, inconsequential and unimportant.

  He closed his eyes, shook his head, opened his lids. “I’m sorry for rambling. I’m just overwhelmed at the moment. But I meant it, Eve. Your—our—monster, the situation with the girl…I haven’t forgotten. I won’t leave here until you’ve found peace. Understand?” He cut a gaze to her, and its intensity made a tingle comprised of both hot and cold parts chase down her spine.

  “I do. Thank you. I need to stop moping.” She rubbed raw and tired eyes, her thoughts a soupy cloud. Dwelling on her problems wouldn’t do her any good. She needed to start fresh in the morning, find someone in the shifter pack with whom she could discuss the haunting. With all his talk about star children and cosmic nodes, Carlos had intimated that this was the place to address such topics.

  “Like what, love?” With gentle, callused fingers, he grazed the underside of her arm.

  The stiff mattress squeaked as it adjusted beneath her. “I can’t sort out my thoughts right now. Sometimes I feel like I’d give up a lot to have a normal mind.”

  He kept up his strokes, gaze drifting to her face. “Mustn’t be easy, eh? Dealing with all those souls? Listening to them and their problems. And then I come along, all ‘me, me, me.’ More of the same, in a sense.”

  She shrugged. Helping others was what she did, and she did not resent her gift. But having someone to talk to about her own stuff was nice. Someone who understood and could relate. Therapist couldn’t. Lord knows Eve had tried and failed to bond with enough of them.

  “I consider it a blessing. But I wonder, too. If I’m more open than most people. If things slip through and get to me. If I’m more susceptible to curses.” What else could explain the rodent, a menace that was, as far as she could tell, connected to Lacey and her disgruntled parents?

  Jonnie rested a palm against the curve of her waist. “One thing I managed to learn was you can’t obsess over this shite all of the time. It’ll suck you dry. You have to try and take mental breaks when you can. Remember how to smile.”

  And she did manage a wan half-smile, resisting the temptation to crack a joke about his ‘suck you dry’ comment. She stole a shameless peek at those delectable flashes of tattoo ink above his waistband. “I smile sometimes.”

  “I know.” His voice took on a husky, gravely timbre. Her pussy slicked again, and the musty smell of his excitement graced her nose. A rising column of arousal pressed into the thin material of his underwear.

  Jonnie pressed his hand to the small of her back, urging her body to his. “It’s more like a siren’s smirk I’d say, but I’m going to wager you like what you see. That true?” His lips parted, eyes hooded with lust.

  She rolled on top of him. Fuck it. She wanted him, he was hot, and the thought of focusing on anything other than horrifying supernatural things sounded like heaven. Like a vacation from her own mind, and they were on vacation after all. A place where they could escape, together.

  “Yes.” She peeled off her shirt and tossed it to the ground, situating her body on Jonnie’s lap so she hovered an inch or so above his erection. The top bunk scraped against her head, boxing them into a forced proximity that made the position even sexier. “But why are you asking me questions if you can read my thoughts and all?”

  He sent those deft fingers of his up her back, caressing a route to her bra. He unclasped the hook on the first try, moaning as he pulled the elastic straps down her arms. “It’s more like a flow of energy, like I’m a radio transmitter picking up bits and pieces of your conscious thought.”

  “What about what’s in my subconscious?” She freed herself of her undergarment and cast it aside, sending it to join the shirt in a pile. Eve’s mental chatter quieted into a lull of bliss. She savored the moment, temporarily paroled from the prison of her thoughts. Time disappeared, rendering everything perfect. Divine. Nothing but the good vibes of fading into another person, of truly connecting, remained. Her stiff muscles softened, the surface of her skin newly sensitive.

  “Harder to explain. Not sure I completely understand. It’s like an energy flow, a wavelength. An emotional meld. What happened to us on the trail is an example.”

  He cupped her breasts, each mound spilling slightly out of his palms. With his thumb pads, he rubbed the hard buds of her nipples in little circles. She sucked in a sharp breath at the pleasurable ache.

  In a way, they’d already shared a tremendous amount of intimacy through their previous mental and emotional unions. The dream, their conjoined out-of-body experiences on the trail. Hell, perhaps their impending act would amount to a kind of sex magic. A sacred pagan ritual that would raise the vibrational frequency and summon epiphanies. Perhaps they could lure solutions from their bodies, like spirits hailed through a séance.

  She leaned down and pressed her lips to his, sick of worries and fears. The flavor of antiseptic mouthwash mingling with his personal taste chased those dark clouds away. Eve kissed harder, while Jonnie pinched her nipples. The warm cavern of his mouth welcomed her, swallowing her troubles. Their tongues played, eager as they danced, exploring.

  He moaned against her lips, erection
pressing stiff as a bar between her legs. She ground her hips. He matched her thrusts. They kissed like they wanted to steal each others breath. A floating sensation overcame Eve as she lost track of where she ended and her lover began. It was spiritual, perfect, physically intense yet so much more. She’d never wanted anything or anyone like this. Never felt anything like this. Her chest heaved against his stroking hands and his fast fingers.

  Her tongue brushed a sharp point—she gasped and her clit jerked. Game on.

  Catching quickened breath, she drew back and pressed a palm against the wood above her head, gaining enough space to sit up a bit straighter. He gripped her hips and moved her, slowly, back and forth against his erection. So clearly lost to sensation, he bowed his back and arched his neck sharply enough to bring the jut of his Adam’s apple into relief, letting out a sharp grunt.

  Smirking like some wicked, fecund sex goddess, Eve kept up her thrusts. She gyrated her hips in circles, wet beneath her thin cotton shorts, shameless and wanton in the night. Fucking in the dark forest like a witch performing a heathen ritual.

  She swung a leg over his hip and dismounted him, coming to kneel on the rough, unvarnished floor. Wood splinters pricked her knees, the slight pain enhancing her arousal in kinky, unexpected ways.

  Eve pushed her own shorts down her thighs, teasing herself with the feel of humidity on her exposed crotch. Still air tickled her pussy lips, so saturated it made her nether hairs curl.

  Mouth watering, she pulled on Jonnie’s elastic waistband. He propped on his elbows, head tilted at a slight angle as he regarded her while she prepared to get to work.

  She urged his silky boxers over the cock tenting them, bringing the fabric to rest at his thighs. His length, long like she’d pictured and thicker than his frame would suggest, curved upward. Eve dragged a finger down one of his lines of tattoo ink, learning his body art.