Dead of Eve (40 page)

The Valley Spirit never dies

It is called the Mysterious Female

The entrance to the Mysterious Female

Is called the root of Heaven and Earth

Endless flow

Of inexhaustible energy

Tao Te Ching

Dark and drippy clouds floated above the rafters and spat a mist into the ceiling-less chamber. I wiped my brow. “The Drone’s going to feel me doing this.”

Michio raised the hem of my shift to my nape and drew my back to his bare chest. “Try to relax.”

“Trying. I should be exhausted since I didn’t sleep last night.”

“You know how to prevent those nightmares.” His gentle tone stroked private places inside me.

“We’ll talk about it later.” When his lap wasn’t cupping my nude backside.

“I’m going put my arms around you now.”

I pulled my lips between my teeth and nodded. Two tentative hands eased under my gown. Forearms on my abdomen shifted us deeper into the couch. Drops of rain trickled off the waterproof cushions.

“Just take your time.” His voice brushed that sensitive spot below my ear. “When you’re ready, call the guard into the room.”

The couch faced the chamber door, which was closed but not latched. I sucked in a needed breath and focused on the ever present hum on the other side. My command poured forth like words from my mouth.
Come.

A pulse, unlike my heartbeat, rattled in my chest. The door held still.

I dug deeper. Yin or Yang, whatever it was, I amassed my fuel. I imagined it in a tangible form, like a vapor writhing around me. It crept up my spine and stretched over my ribs. But it was weak, as if a heavy exhale would wisp it away.

I reached under my gown and ran my arms along his until our limbs intertwined. Then I tried again.
Come.

A bright light accompanied a warm wash of my senses. My skin heated where it made contact with his as I siphoned his vitality and replenished mine. The energy propelled from my backbone and out through my chest, taking my breath with it.

The door crashed open and the aphid guard filled the frame. Glassy eyes pointed at me.

I coiled my mind around the connection, solidifying it.
Closer.

A flow ignited between us and the tiny setae on its green arms bristled, catching my transmission. Jaw-snot sprayed the floor. Segmented feet scuffled. One step. Two.

Its body jerked. Rain drops sizzled on its skin.

Oh shit. “The rain. Water will kill it.”

The tenuous thread gathered size and strength, straining to pull away.

“Just sprinkling.” His whisper was distracted and rapt with awe. “Keep your focus.”

“It’s fighting me. Still think I can do this without getting eaten?”

“You’re doing it. The mind is everything. Center your thoughts, let it empower you.”

I closed my eyes. Control the aphid. Take over the army. Find Roark and Jesse. Kill the psycho brothers. Get the hell off Malta. Oh, and discover the cure. My eyes popped open. “Right.”

“You cold? Dizzy?”

His body against mine warmed me inside and out, enough that the memory of it would keep me warm as I slept alone that night. “I’m good.”

He skipped his hands along my torso as if trying to catch the weightless sensations bouncing between me and the salivating creature. “Bring it closer.”

Inhale. Breathe out.
Closer
leapt from my chest.

The aphid slid two more steps, its bowed body quivering.

“Look at that. Incredible.” His admiration penetrated the static charged room. “Do you sense Aiman?”

A network of electric-like trails crisscrossed my mind’s eye. The strands thrummed with single-focus, consistent with aphid hunger. “The only crazy I’m sensing is coming from this couch.”

His chuckle danced against my back where our skin touched. I wanted to turn and see what his beautiful face looked like wearing a smile, but a clawed foot dragged over the tiles. Then the other foot. More dragging. Getting too close. My order burst from my tailbone and escaped with the air from my lungs.
Stop.

It halted an arm’s span away and cocked its head. Tiny pupils arrowed on me. Tubular parts slid over one another in its throat, connected by strings of black snot.

“I’m doing that,” I whispered. “I’m controlling it.”

When the arms around me squeezed, I realized he was putting his life in my hands. If I didn’t trust him, if I wished him harm, I could use the aphid to attack him.

The skin between its exoskeletal scales twitched with restrained hunger. I probed the thread that linked us. “It’s afraid of me. And the rain’s pissing it off. But there’s also…curiosity.”

“You feel all that?”

“Don’t ask me how—”

My stomach bucked and forced a yelp from my throat.

He tightened his embrace. “What was that?”

“The hunger. The Drone’s starving them.” A chill crept over me, followed by an onslaught of dizziness.

“Evie?”

I burrowed into his chest and braced for another shiver. “It’s really hungry. Trying to break my hold.” My teeth clicked together. “I’m cold.”

“Hang on.” He half stood and pushed down his pants without releasing his hold around my waist. Then he sat us back on the couch, legs bare under mine. Only the thin material of his boxers lay between us.

Warmth replaced the chill. Tension left my body and the wooziness passed. I swallowed.
Leave.

The trudge of retreating feet scraped through the room.

“Well,” I said, “the Yang thing works.”

He nestled his face into my neck. The intimacy of his lips sent a different kind of warmth through me. I held my breath, confused by his affection at the same time savoring the tingle pulling through my womb.

The aphid froze at the door, crouched, pincers raised. Its torso heaved as sucking parts punched from its gullet.

Leave
bloomed in my chest and sprang free.

It straightened, a tremor rippling its limbs. Then it scurried out.

I pivoted in his lap. “That last move you did…you can’t do that.”

His inky irises peeked from under half lids, regarding me, not as my doctor but as something else. His hands, a heavy heat on my thighs, crackled electricity over my skin.

“Dammit, Michio.” My feet hit the floor and my shift fell in place.

The aphid hunkered just outside the chamber. I jogged across the room and slammed the door shut.

He hauled on his pants. “What happened?”

“Arousal. That’s what happened. Shit. That’s how I called the Drone last night.” I held my hand over my stomach and searched for his poisonous chasm amidst the psychic threads. “I don’t feel him.”

He eyes roamed my face and his brows snapped up. “Pheromones. Chemical communication. That’s what you’re broadcasting.”

“Yeah.”

“That could be bad.”

“You think?”

“Let’s try it again. This time, beckon two guards from downstairs.”

That night, I lay in bed and watched the subtle movement of Michio’s chest on the couch. He wouldn’t leave the chamber despite my demands that he search for Jesse and Roark. And I couldn’t sleep mulling over the risks they were taking on an island of aphids.

Roark’s flirtatious smile appeared every time I closed my eyes. His drawl purred through me and curled my toes.

Then I saw Jesse’s copper eyes, rough-hewn jawline, pillowy lips. When our paths collided in the foothills of West Virginia, those exquisite features would twist up as if I disgusted him. Yet, he left his brethren to follow me across an ocean, a continent.

Even more conflicting than my relationships with a celibate priest and a half-mad Lakota was the man sleeping feet away. I wanted to know him better, and I would. Until then, I didn’t know if, behind his tenting fingers and penetrating eyes, he was analyzing my evolving genetics or memorizing my features the way I memorized his.

I felt gluttonous taking inventory of the men in my life, yet I couldn’t ignore the fullness they gave me. Their protection, their devotion settled deep inside me, taking up space in the lonely places of my heart, making me feel a lot less lonely.

And a lot more needy. My fingers meandered over my hip, stretched toward the heat between my legs. I imagined they were Michio’s fingers rubbing the bud of nerves there. In thirty seconds, the ache would be soothed.

Bannnng. Bang
. The door shook. I bolted upright.

Michio’s bulky silhouette appeared at the gate. “Evie?”

“Shit.” I clenched my thighs and dropped my forehead to my knees.

The gate snicked and the mattress dipped. “What are you thinking about?”

Not going there. I stared at the wall beside his head.

His nostrils flared and his eyes captured mine. “You’re aroused.”

The heat in my cheeks extinguished any chance of escaping with my dignity. “I’m not.”

“Turn it off.”

I shifted my hips, unintentionally rubbing against his. “You give really shitty advice.”

He reached for me and hesitated. A sigh floated between us. “Bet that mouth gets you in a lot trouble.”

My face burned hotter. “Bet you’d like to find out.”

The brush of his thumb on my jaw belied the professional detachment in his voice. “Your testosterone levels aggravate your aggression. And your arousal.”

The pulse between my legs agreed.

He lowered his voice. “I can numb it.”

I pretended to misunderstand. “I don’t want to be sedated. Thought we were past that.”

The clement breeze fanned his sandalwood scent around me. My breaths quickened and I knew he noticed.

A hunk of black hair fell over his bowed head. “Let me ease you,
Nannakola
.”

I flinched, even as my heart stretched in my chest, reaching for him. “How would that work? Arousal’s the problem. You’re making it worse.”

“If you can’t shut it off, you need an outlet. Direct it to me.”

I’d learned that morning I could isolate my transmissions to a specific aphid. Since I didn’t know how to turn off the pheromones, it meant I could funnel the waves to him and deflect the aphids from feeling it.

I strangled my enthusiastic heart with the knowledge that his offer was a medical diagnosis, not some romantic attempt to make out with me. “What’s behind door number two?”

He reached in his pocket, bent across my lap, and set a syringe on the side table.

Ugh. That would work if the wall-imparted lump on my forehead was anything to go by.

A growl rumbled through the door followed by the cracking of wood.

I chewed my thumb nail. Shirtless, his well-cut shoulders blocked out everything in the room. It’d been so much easier to ignore my attraction to him when he was my enemy. “What did you have in mind?”

“Come here.” He patted his knees.

When I leaned toward him, he curved a hand around the small of my back and guided me into his lap. His other hand traced my collarbone, bared above the wide neckline of my chemise. He followed the contour of my neck and tipped up my chin. I forgot to breathe.

His thumb padded my bottom lip. “Breathe, Evie.”

My lungs emptied in a whoosh and his mouth fastened to mine. Our lips moved together in silent exploration, a tongue touch. Tenderness without expectation. I liked it. Too much.

He flexed everywhere I put my hands. Skin stretched over the cords of his shoulders. The wide column of his neck contracted as his tongue chased mine, seductively, expertly. Every taste he gave and took fed the blaze within me. Our breaths became one. My body sang.

But beneath the feel of his lips and the tingle of his fingertips on my jaw, I sensed constraint. The edges of his mouth hardened. His hips made a slight roll. Still, he kept it soft and steady, holding himself away from me. Just like Roark.

A twinge stabbed my heart. I broke the kiss and tucked my fingers in my elbows.

Silence waited beyond the door. He wore his usual stone mask. “It worked.”

I touched my lips. His eyes followed my fingers, his voice passive. “You’re thinking about the priest.”

A swallow bounced my throat. “He’s celibate. We don’t have that kind of relationship.” The twinge in my heart sharpened.

He remained quiet, the moonlit sky graying his flawless complexion. I fell into the hypnotic trance of his eyes as they watched me with too much knowing. My libido was calm but his beauty prompted me. “Stay.”

His body hardened. Then, with each breath, the woodenness rolled away. He leaned in. “What do you need?”

I lifted a shoulder and let my eyes fall to his naked torso. “Skin.”

He stretched out on his side in the space I gave him, looped an arm over me and tugged my chest to his.

My nose settled in the hollow of his throat. He smelled so clean, I wondered if I pressed closer I could absorb some of his humanity. Could I inhale it from his lips to mine? “I never thanked you.”

“For what?”

For the forced meals. The baths. Fending off spiders and infection. “For keeping me alive when I didn’t want it.”

His chin settled on my head. “Hunger of heart is the greatest sickness. I don’t know how to heal that.” Pain tinged his voice. “I failed to guard your heart and your mind.”