Part 45 (1/2)
”Who?”
”That doesn't matter now. I just wanted to say I'm sorry.”
”About what?”
”Last night. I didn't trust you and I should have.”
She put her hand to his face.
”Do you forgive me?”
”Nothing to forgive,” he said.
”I want to make love to you.”
”Yes,” he said, as though she hadn't needed to tell him, which was true.
It was easy. After all that had happened to separate them, it was easy. They were like magnets. However or whoever pulled them apart they were bound to come back together, like this; they couldn't help themselves. Didn't want to.
She started to pull his s.h.i.+rt from his trousers. He helped her, hauling it over his head. There were two seconds of darkness while it covered his face, in which her image, face, b.r.e.a.s.t.s and underwear, was as sharp in his head as a scene lit by lightning. Then she was there again, unbuckling his belt. He heeled off his shoes, then performed a monopodal dance to pull his socks off: Finally, he let his trousers drop and stepped out of them.
”I was afraid,” she said.
”Not now. You're not afraid now.”
”No.”
”I'm not the Devil. I'm not Fletcher's. I'm yours.”
”I love you.”
She put her palms on his chest, and ran them outwards, as if smoothing pillows. He put his arms around her and pulled her towards him.
His d.i.c.k was doing push-ups in his shorts. He placated it by kissing her, moving his hands down her back to the band of her panties, then sliding beneath. Her kisses were moving from his nose to chin, he licking at her lips when her mouth crossed his. She pressed her body against him.
”Here,” she said softly.
”Yes?”
”Yes. Why not? No one to see us. I want to, Howie.”
He smiled. She stepped away from him, going down on her knees in front of him and pulling his shorts down far enough that his d.i.c.k sprang into view. She took hold of it gently, then suddenly harder, using her hold to bring him down to ground level. He knelt in front of her. She still didn't relinquish her hold, but rubbed him until he put his hand over hers and coaxed her fingers away.
”Not good?” she said.
”Too good,” he breathed. ”I don't want to shoot.”
”Shoot?”
”Come. Spurt. Lose it.”
”I want you to lose it,” she said, lying down in front of him. His d.i.c.k was now solid against his belly. ”I want you to lose it in me.”
He leaned over and put his hands on her hips, then began to pull her panties down. The hair around her slit was a darker blonde than her hair, but not much. He put his face to her, and licked between the lips. Her body tensed beneath him, then relaxed.
He ran his tongue up from her c.u.n.t to her navel, from her navel to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, from her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to her face, until he was lying on top of her.
”I love you,” he said, and entered her.
VII.
It was only as she was was.h.i.+ng the bloodstains from the woman's neck that Tesla came to look more closely at the cross around her neck. She recognized it instantly, as a companion to the medallion Kissoon had shown her. The same central figure, spreadeagled; the same four lines of variations on the human spreading from it.
”Shoal,” she said.
The woman opened her eyes. There was no period of coming-to. One moment she was to all intents and purposes asleep. The next her eyes were wide and alert. They were dark.
”Where am I?” she said.
”My name's Tesla. You're in my apartment.”
”In the Cosm?” the woman said. Her voice was frail; eroded by heat, wind and fatigue.
”Yes,” Tesla said. ”We're out of the Loop. Kissoon can't get us here.”
This she knew was not altogether true. The shaman had twice reached Tesla in this very apartment. Once in her sleep; once while coffee-making. There was nothing, presumably, to stop him doing the same again. But she'd felt no touch from him, nothing at all. Perhaps he was too concerned that she get about her labors on his behalf to interfere. Perhaps he had other plans. Who knew?
”What's your name?” she asked.
”Mary Muralles,” she said.
”You're one of the Shoal,” Tesla said.
Mary's eyes flickered towards Raul, who was at the door.
”Don't worry,” Tesla said. ”If you can trust me you can certainly trust him. If you won't trust either of us then we're all lost. So tell me...”
”Yes. I'm one of the Shoal.”
”Kissoon told me he was the last.”
”He and I.”
”The rest were murdered, like he said?”
She nodded. Again her gaze went to Raul.
”I told you,” Tesla began.