Twilight's Possession - Burning Hunger Part 8

She cried out when he withdrew it, leaving her painfully empty.

She wasn't left to suffer long.

She felt him smooth more lube over her a.s.s and p.u.s.s.y then felt the invasion of two c.o.c.ks-one in her a.s.s, one in her p.u.s.s.y.

Oh, good G.o.d almighty! The two men synchronized their motions. Innnn. Outtttt. Innnn. Outttt.

She was going to die.

Marek added perfectly applied circles to her c.l.i.t to the other incredible sensations and she quickly relinquished, letting the pulsing heat of another climax s.h.i.+mmy through her body.

Both men groaned as her p.u.s.s.y and a.s.s rhythmically sucked them to release. On the wake of their guttural cries, they spilled their scorching seed into her p.u.s.s.y and a.s.s, slowly thrusting in and out to drive it farther inside.

And when they'd all stopped twitching and pulsing and quaking and shaking, they slid out from inside her, gently positioned her between them on the bed and encircled her in their arms.

Her f.a.n.n.y rested against Marek's groin. His breath heated her nape. And Dayne's knee was wedged between her legs, one arm under her head, the other resting protectively on her hip.

This was heaven.

How'd she get so lucky, to end up with two to-die-for Chippendales?

Chapter Six.

"What do you mean I can't go with you?" Brea demanded, sure they were once again pulling a quick one on her. Two-timing, scheming, lying kidnappers! She'd been such a fool. Of course they weren't going to help her. Why would they?

The clues had been a ruse to delay her. And she'd bought their lies.

"Not just anyone can storm into our most sacred place and start riffling through the pages of the Book of Secrets," Dayne reasoned.

"That's right," Marek piped in as he worked his bod into a snug black t-s.h.i.+rt and pair of worn jeans. The soft blue cotton did wonders for the man's backside, she noted begrudgingly. "No outsider has stepped foot inside the Zal Halirgi. Ever. It's simply forbidden."

"But I need to see the book. How do I know if you two will look for the right thing?" Or if you'll lie and claim you found nothing?

"You don't." Dressed in a white ribbed pullover and black pants, Dayne looked like he'd stepped out of a magazine spread. His GQ-ish hunk-next-door good looks were nearly the mirror opposite of Marek's more rough and raw, bad-boy qualities.

They both suited her just fine, despite the fact that they were both a couple of lying wieners.

"I give my word," Marek vowed, "we'll do whatever you tell us to. With these," he added, handing her a cell phone, "we can keep in contact the entire time we're there."

"It's hardly the same. How am I going to know what to look for if I can't see anything?"

Marek shrugged. "It's the best we can do." He dragged a familiar duffle bag from the closet and tossed in some supplies. Then he gathered the clues, tucked them into an envelope. "Guess we're ready to go."

"I had a thought." Brea pointed at the envelope. "We didn't check those clues for invisible ink. What good is the Book of Secrets if we don't know yet what message we're decoding?"

Dayne nodded. "Hmmm. She has a point."

"Invisible ink?" Marek sounded skeptical. "I thought we were looking for the code in the Book of Secrets."

"See?" Brea shook her head and tsked. "You are going to be worthless to me until you get your hands on a copy of National Treasure."

"Worthless?" Dayne asked, an evil grin splitting his face and making her nether regions warm.

She plucked the envelope from Marek's hand and pulled the papers from it. "You guys have any lemon juice?"

"Lemon juice?" they repeated in unison.

She heaved a sigh of the weary. "Yes, of course. It was in the movie. I'll need some lemons, a hair drier and some Q-tips."

"I'll see what I can find," Marek grumbled, heading for the door.

"Thank you." She turned to Dayne. "And a laptop with internet access would come in mighty handy right now."

"That won't be a problem."

As Dayne brushed past Marek at the doorway, Marek mumbled, "Sure, you get the easy one."

Dayne simply grinned and shrugged. He returned long before Marek did, set a snazzy laptop with more bells and whistles than Dell's latest offering on the table and sat in a nearby chair to watch.

She set to work right away, Googling every keyword she could think of that might relate to the Triad, including the former owner's name, the Book of Secrets and the Zal Halirgi. The former, she found. The latter two, nothing, outside of a couple websites dedicated to online fantasy games and some obscure religious cult.

Interesting.

Both Chippendales had talked about the Zal Halirgi and book as if they were real. Were they members of that bizarre underground cult? Did they believe Christ would make his second coming in a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p and beam them aboard for a millennium of bliss, while rocketing through the universe?

As she surfed the 'net, she rubbed a couple of sore spots on her neck and shoulder. They were tender, achy and bruised but she couldn't remember having hurt herself.

As soon as Marek returned, a bowl of lemons in one hand, a box of Q-Tips in the other, and a hair drier wedged between one thick bicep and his rib cage, she attacked the first clue. She flipped the sc.r.a.p of paper over, rubbed lemon juice all over it and then dried it to a crisp.

Nothing. No code. No secret message. No map.

She flipped it over and did the same to the front.

Again, nothing.

Frustrated and feeling time slipping away, she did a rush job on the second clue.

Nothing.

Now what? Were the clues fake? Was she using the wrong stuff to read the invisible ink? Or was the secret code somewhere else?

The tangy scent of lemons clinging to her fingers, she went back to the computer and typed invisible ink into the search field. She clicked on the first site, an online encyclopedia.

What was this? The writers of National Treasure had it wrong? Lemon juice didn't work as a reagent? She could hardly believe it! Didn't those movie scriptwriters research stuff?

"UV light?" She went to the fluorescent desk lamp and held the paper in front of the bulb. A series of dim, shadowed figures appeared on the back of the paper. "A-ha! There it is. Black light. I bet that'll work." A smile of relief pulling at her cheeks, she turned to Dayne. "I don't suppose you have one of those funky black lights sitting around?"

"Uh...?" Dayne said.

She glanced at the clock. It was a little after seven. "You can buy one just about anywhere, K-Mart, Meijers, Radio Shack. Do you know where one of those stores are?"

"Yes," Marek said when Dayne gave her a blank stare. "If you had any doubt I was willing to help, you shouldn't anymore. I'll be back in a bit."

She caught his wrist as he turned toward the door, and tugged. When he glanced over his shoulder, she said, "Thank you."

A gentle smile warmed his features. "You're welcome."

While he was gone, Dayne kept her from climbing the walls by chitchatting about his family, the history between him and Marek-she sensed he hadn't given her the whole story there-and his computer programming company. She intentionally kept her distance from him, since it seemed that the minute he got within five feet of her, her hormones started surging through her body and thoughts of a carnal nature flooded her brain. At least if she kept a good seven to ten feet between them, she could think about more than how adorable his b.u.t.t looked in his pants or how the pure white of his s.h.i.+rt complimented his tanned complexion.

The internet was all but useless, so her hands were figuratively tied. When there was a lull in the conversation, she set a course around the room. Bed, door, bathroom, desk then back to the bed again. "How much longer do you think he'll be?"

"Hard saying. If he doesn't get back here soon, we'll be waiting until tomorrow to go to the Zal Halirgi."

"Why's that?"

"They'll be closed."

"Closed? That's worse than banker's hours. I thought you said they were opening at about six. What is this place anyway? Zal Halirgi? Is it like...a church of some kind?"

"A church? Not hardly," he said around a rumbling chuckle. Little quivers of sensual awareness rippled through her body. "The most sacred place doesn't have a lot of traffic, since its only purpose is to hold our most treasured doc.u.ments. For that reason, it's only open to visitors for an hour a day."

"So how much time, exactly, do we have?"

He studied the clock. "About twenty minutes."

"s.h.i.+t!"

Marek stared at the green glowing numbers on the van's digital clock. Time was running out and he was stuck cooling his heels in gridlock, thanks to a multi-car pile-up.

Stupid humans who didn't know how to drive on wet roads. You'd think they'd be more careful, since they were mortal.

He finally broke clear of the snarl and lead-footed his way home. The Zal Halirgi would be closed in twelve minutes.

If the light didn't work, they would lose a whole night. If only they'd thought to tackle this earlier. Then again, he wouldn't have been able to go to the store until after twilight anyway. The Sons of the Twilight received only one dose of the medication that allowed them to walk in sunlight each year. It was carefully controlled by the Council to avoid the kind of abuses they'd seen in centuries past.

Of course, since he'd known he'd have to find a blood-mate this year, he'd chosen to reserve that precious dose for that day.

Home. At last. With no time to waste.

The black-light bulb in a white plastic bag, he raced inside, ran up the stairs and rushed into the room.

This had to work.

"Here you are," he said, breathless from running, from worry and from the erotic hunger that blasted him in the gut like a well-placed sucker-punch. Would the hunger ever ease?

Brea s.n.a.t.c.hed the bag and, hesitating for a moment, turned and dashed toward the nearest table lamp, simultaneously unwrapping the bulb.

Clearly Dayne had warned her time was short.

She unscrewed the bulb and replaced it with the black light, switched on the light then instructed Dayne to cut all the other lights in the room. Instantly, they were enveloped in an eerie blue glow.

Dayne's white s.h.i.+rt shone brightly, as did his teeth when he opened his mouth to speak, "How's this supposed to do anything?"

Brea lifted the first sc.r.a.p of paper up to the light and even from a distance, Marek could read the series of numbers scrawled over the entire surface. She'd done it, figured out how to read the code. He had to admire her sharp mind. "There we go! I can read them. Pen! I need a pen and paper. Anything."

"Desk drawer," Marek said.

"Of course." The drawer opened with a sc.r.a.pe of wood against wood. The sound of pencils and pens clattered in the plastic tray as she sifted through them. "Got it. G.o.d, I hope you can read this. I'm writing so fast," she said as she alternated between reading numbers and recording them on a fresh piece of paper. Finally, she jumped to her feet, thrust the paper at him and shooed them both toward the door, "Go, go, go!"

"We'll be back soon," Marek said over his shoulder. He held his cell phone and the code in one hand, fished for the van's keys in the other. Dayne loped along behind him, silent.

Brea fingered Marek's spare cell phone as she stared at the door, shut behind the guys after they'd left. Her nerves were tied into tight knots. Anxiety rushed up and down her spine. She couldn't sit still. Couldn't stand still either.

Ack! Waiting was agony.

She beat a permanent path from the bed to the door as she paced. Back and forth. Back and forth. After some two hundred round-trips, she decided to try the door, just for kicks. No doubt it would be locked.

Unlocked.

Unlocked? Hot d.a.m.n!

She tossed the cell phone on the bed, threw open the door and dashed into the hallway. Down the stairs. Through a foyer to the front door.

Was this some kind of trap? Did they have the front door rigged to keep her inside? That was stupid. Of course not. They hadn't had time.

Whoo hoo! They'd forgotten to lock her door. She was free! Freeeeee!

She yanked open the front door and dashed outside. The crisp night air felt wonderful. It smelled wonderful too, of wet gra.s.s and flowers and nature. Freedom!

Ahhhhhh.

She stood in the middle of the huge, immaculately manicured front lawn. Her Chippendales either spent beaucoup hours working on their lawn or paid a service to handle it for them. Not a twig was out of place on the shrubs, the lawn was so lush and thick it looked like a carpet and the flower beds, lit with a row of adorable copper lanterns, were overflowing with gorgeous blooms. The crabapple tree standing sentry at the driveway's end was covered with white blossoms that seemed to glow in the moonlight.

Enough admiring the landscaping. Now that she was free, how was she going to get home? She had no idea where she was. Plans whirring through her mind, she hiked about halfway down the loooong gravel driveway before she stopped.

Was she making a big mistake by leaving now? If Marek wasn't pulling a quick one on her, and there really was a Zal Halirgi, and they really were following a bona fide clue, she'd be an idiot to walk away now.