He frowned at the stars. “Didn't exactly work out as planned, did it?”
Motherfucking her. While he sat here pining, what the fuck was she doing?
He snorted. She was doing Gerik. Frate had finally gotten what he had wanted. No, she had finally gotten what she had really wanted. He had seen the two of them together. Seen how perfect they had looked together. How she had responded to him sexually, despite her innocence. Hell, she had been damn nervous with him, didn’t have a clue about being with a man. But with Gerik, she had been an instant pro. Looking back on it, she had only been fighting the inevitable.
Jericho passed him the jug of Plum Ţuică and he took a healthy swallow before passing it on to Shandor. Sighing contentedly, he leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and just enjoyed the soft whine of Lajos’s violin. Gerik, Stefan and Mihai were quietly arguing, Jericho was humming, Shandor was rambling on about something, and like usual, Hockey was mostly silent. It was a moment of peace in a life without it.
“Ah lepo dekle na lep večer,” Marcell grunted.
“Boys night?”
His eyes popped open and yep, there she was. The object of his fucking obsession. The reason he had been jerking off, something he hadn't done since the age of twelve.
“Not at all. Please join us.” Jericho motioned to the chair next to his and offered Trinity the Ţuică. He stared as her lips parted and wrapped around the mouth of the jug. She tilted her head back and swallowed and swallowed…and swallowed. Dammit. He was hard again. Just from watching her throat work.
She was smiling when she handed the jug back to Jericho. “Mmmmm. My daddy would have loved this.”
“Your father liked his spirits?” Stefan asked.
She grinned, showing off her dimples. “He was a big fan of Absinthe and Ouzo.”
“Man after my own heart," he said, because he couldn't think of anything else to say and he so desperately wanted her to notice him. And she did. She looked right at him and like a deer caught in the bright gleam of headlights, he just stared at her. Fuck, when had he become such a girl?
“I’m assuming, Trinity, we have you to thank for three fresh batches of jerky?” Jericho smiled at her and she nodded, looking disgusted. Heh. Making beef jerky was not for the weak. He had to hand it to her. She had taken to Gypsy life surprisingly well. Although, she hadn’t had much of a choice.
“Thanks to Becki I’ll probably never get the stink out of me.”
Shandor laughed. “Where is that roommate of yours?”
Her expression sobered and her eyes shot to her feet. Ah, so she knew. Becki had better be careful or her rendezvous’ with Tobar were going to become public knowledge.
“Sleeping,” she mumbled.
“Mmm…hmm.” Shandor drawled, shooting him an amused glance that he answered with a smirk.
Hockey flipped the brim of his hat up and turned toward Shandor, glaring.
“What?” Shandor put his hands up. “Just asking where she was?”
Hockey turned to Trinity. “Trinity? Can I talk to you for a minute?”
For a moment he was simply stunned Hockey had spoken nine whole words, and in the form of sentence no less. Then he realized, as did everyone else, exactly what Hockey had asked of her. Trinity looked just as shocked as the rest of them.
Trinity stood and offered him her hand, further shocking their small gathering. Gerik glared at their retreating forms. Holy shit. Were Hockey and Trinity…? No. No way. He would kill him. And if he didn't, Gerik would. He relaxed back in his chair, but the atmosphere around the campfire was anything but relaxing. Gerik's eyes had gone bright white and he was gripping his kneecaps as if he wanted to tear them straight off and beat Hockey to death with them.
Abruptly, frate jumped up and stalked off in the direction Trinity had gone, muttering curses.
Jericho shook his head. "If that boy doesn't claim her soon, nature help us all."
Stefan and Mihai murmured their agreement.
And didn't that just make him want to shred them all to pieces. Why the fuck was everyone so bent on Gerik marrying her? Nearly every unattached frate here, and a few who weren’t, wanted to bang the shit out of her. Yet no one tried. Not one. He didn't get it. Gerik wasn't that scary.
Pissed off, he left, headed in the opposite direction of Gerik. Then, for a reason he wasn’t going to think on at the moment, he circled back around through the living lot and headed to the front lot.
He froze a few yards from the creek and just stared. Trinity was sitting in-between Gerik's legs, her head thrown back, her eyes closed, and her mouth open. Gerik's face was buried in her neck, one hand was gripping her bared breast and the other he’d shoved down the front of her jeans.
Her small cries of pleasure, her breathless panting of Gerik's name, her arm wrapped backwards around his neck holding him tight against her, her own hand joined with his down her jeans…
He'd been wrong. Fata was no virgin. Why had he even thought she was in the first place? It was as if he had been putting her on some kind of pedestal she did not belong on. She was just another fată. Another Gaje slut. There was absolutely nothing special about her that begged attention. Nope. Nothing.
Trinity's orgasm was fucking mind-blowing. And he wished it had been him who had given it to her. Her eyes went saucer-wide, the green caught the moonlight, giving them an otherworldly glow. Her body bowed high off the ground and Gerik had to fight to keep her in place while he finished her off. She let out a prolonged cry and then fell limp against him. But Gerik wasn't done. He turned her in his arms and took her mouth in his, kissing her hard and fast. Then he was laying her down, climbing on top of her, unzipping his jeans…
He turned away and headed back for camp. No way was he going to watch that asshole do to her what had been consuming his thoughts from the moment he had seen her.
He was done thinking about Trinity. No way was he going sloppy seconds with Gerik.
And he was done with her now. So what if Gerik hadn't actually fucked her that night. So fucking what if it had been him to take her virginity. And marry her. And hear her tell the entire camp on a daily basis how much she goddamned loved him.
He had other bullshit to dwell on. The wards kept failing, people kept being killed, the clan had to keep moving, and raids were coming up empty. Winter was just around the corner and they weren’t prepared. Not by a long shot. Shit was rolling downhill faster and faster with each passing week.
Wait. Who was he kidding? He didn't give a fuck about any of that shit.
“Xan?” The screen door squeaked open and Nadya's shadow fell over him. “Are you coming back to bed?”
“No.”
“But it’s late.”
Jesus. How had Marko dealt with her bullshit?
“If I’m keeping you awake, fată, feel free to go home. I’m done with you for the night anyway.”
The screen door slammed shut and he heard shuffling from inside the trailer. Ten seconds later, she pushed by him, fully dressed.
She huffed. “You are the biggest dick I have ever met.”
“What’s that? I have the biggest dick you’ve ever seen?” He winked at her, grinning around his cigarette.
“You’re disgusting,” she muttered.
“I try.”
Alone again, he went back to staring up at the stars.
“Unless you carry the Gipsy eyes,
That see but seldom weep,
Keep your head from the naked skies,
Or the stars'll trouble your sleep.”
He laughed bitterly. “Musta’ gotten my tată’s eyes, cuz I can’t fuckin’ sleep.”
And wasn't that just like his tată. To fuck everything up.
CHAPTER SEVEN
While exploring the next morning, I found a cluster of camping cabins located close to the lake. There was no road through this part of the park and the cabins were heavily concealed by the forest.
“Maybe,” I told the stack of Skin Eater bones I h
ad carried with me. “We can hole up here for the winter. How would you feel about that?”
Burying the element infused bones in a large circle around the cabins and a large portion of the forest, I created an even stronger circle of protection. Bones, after infused with spirit, could absolutely not be moved. You couldn’t dig them up, you couldn’t break them. The fifth element, once summoned into osseous matter, stuck like super glue, fossilizing the magic inside. Why exactly, I wasn’t sure, maybe death just likes death. The only problem with using spirit to create wards was you could never remove them. The last thing I wanted to do was leave a magical trail of death in my wake.
I was painfully aware that I lacked understanding of all things magic. Xan had given me the basics about both light and dark magic, but at the time, I had never thought to ask about either in depth, never actually expecting to become a bearer of either. Everything I’d learned I discovered either by accident or through my own trial and error. I knew there had to be more, much more, and I knew the knowledge was inside me. I could feel the untouched energy radiating out from my power core. Sadly, it would remain that way.
The cabin I picked for my own felt like a palace compared to the tiny trailer I had lived in at camp. It looked like an authentic log cabin from the outside, but it was an illusion. The logs had been split down the center, the inside had been varnished and the windows were modern, double paned with secure locks. In the living room, there was a working wood-burning stove, a large stack of firewood next to it, a rickety table with four ladder-back chairs, and a futon doubling as a couch. A small kitchenette was built-in at the very end of the room.
To the left of the kitchenette and down a small hallway, a bathroom boasted a bathtub, toilet, and sink, not that I would be using them, but I was happy for the vanity mirror. I would no longer have to walk around unaware that I had leaves in my hair and mud on my face.
The bedroom at the end of the hall was a delightful surprise, consisting of a small dresser, a bedside table, and a double bed. The thin, stained mattress that sat alone on a basic metal frame was the most beautiful sight I had seen in a long time.
I laughed aloud and spun around with my arms spread wide. I’d hit the jackpot. I’d found a home far enough away from any sort of compact civilization. I was heavily warded. There was a gods damn lake in my front yard and plenty of wandering animals to hunt. And I had a Jeep! What else could an apocalypse survivor ask for? Companionship, you say? These days a girl can’t be too fussy. I would settle for survival instead and put the rest out of my mind.
Maybe I should start fishing? First, I would need a fishing pole. Damn, I didn’t even know how to use a fishing pole.
I should probably stop talking to myself. No need to end up watching a blank television screen. Although, if I drew faces on it…
I spent the rest of the morning and a good portion of the afternoon cleaning out the dust and bugs and moving my own meager belongings inside. My food supply was low, not that I minded hunting, but I wanted to stock up on canned goods for winter. A storm could blow in, trapping me inside. I needed to be prepared for anything.
This meant collecting enough firewood to last the winter, something I had not the first clue how to accomplish. None of the new skills I boasted included axe wielding.
It also meant I had to raid again. I hated raiding. I hated going anywhere near towns or cities. They were dangerous, full of starving and terrified humans, and packs of intelligent Skin Eaters just waiting to take me down. I might be Ms. Magic now, but that didn’t mean I was impervious to a horde of sharp-toothed cannibals trying to tear out my throat or half-crazed humans imbedding bullets in my vital organs. I had been lucky on my venture into Pittsburg. Very lucky.
I surveyed my new, clean home, exhausted but happy. I was toasty warm from the fire I had started, and full from the meal I had eaten. I laid my sleeping bag over top of the bed, rolled up my hooded sweatshirt for a pillow and delighted in the fact that for the first time in a long time I didn't have to sleep with one eye open.
Things were really looking up. Fingers crossed. But just to be sure, I sent up a quick prayer to the Goddess Tyche and asked her not to forsake me. A girl couldn’t be too careful.
Convinced I had covered all my avenues, I slept. Like the dead.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Xan slung his axe through another log. He probably shouldn’t be chopping wood when he was shitfaced drunk, but hey, what did he care if he chopped his leg in half? Maybe he would bleed out and then all his problems would be solved. Invigorated by that very idea, he hauled another log up on the tree stump and swung twice as hard as usual. The wood cracked, split, and fell off the sides. No leg chopping. Of course not. Why would God let him die when it was much more fun to watch him suffer?
Tempting fate, he pulled out his flask and gulped half the contents down in one swallow. Ah. Liquid fire.
“Hey baby,” Fifi purred, sidling up to him and bumping her hip into his thigh.
“What’s up?”
She grinned. “You, hopefully…” She slid her hand down the front of his pants and grabbed him.
He eyed her sideways. “What are you doing?”
She huffed, snatching her hand back. “Nicu is poking around me.”
He made a face. “What? He can’t be that stupid.”
She put her tiny hands on her slight hips. “He is! He knows you’re not with me anymore! You should hear all the disgusting things he’s been saying to me!”
Fucking hell. “I’ll talk to him,” he muttered.
“It’s not going to work, Xan.”
He slung the axe down, imbedded it into the stump, and rolled his shoulders.
“Why not?”
“You know why! Everyone knows we are not together anymore! If he claims me, despite what you say, he has a valid excuse to keep me and you know it! People need to see us together again!”
He exhaled noisily. “Fine. Come on.”
Hand in hand, they walked purposely through the majority of camp before heading to his trailer. When Fifi was standing on the top step, he pushed her back up against the door.
“Are there enough people around for you?”
Instead of answering, she wrapped her arms around his neck and shoved her tongue in his mouth. He stiffened. He didn't want to do this and yet...he was. His body was unwillingly responding to her despite the screaming protests of his conscience.
“Take me inside,” she breathed. “Now.”
He shook his head. “I can't. Not with you. Not when I'd be thinking about her.”
And he would be thinking about her. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since the day he’d met her.
“I don’t care,” she begged. “Think about her all you want! I don't know how it feels to lose the person you’re in love with, but I am just as lonely as you are, Xan. I'm only human. I need to feel something once in a while, too. And I trust you; you're my best friend and the only man I’ve ever trusted with my body.”
He, too, was only human and when a beautiful girl is grinding herself on you, begging to be fucked…
They fell through the door in a tangle of limbs, tearing at each other’s clothes. Once naked, she straddled him and eagerly took him inside of her. They both froze on contact.
Ah, yes. She could feel it, too.
Years and years of being together intimately, of knowing each other inside and out and there was nothing there, not anymore. Touching her felt empty. Just like everything else in his life, sex felt monotonous now. Two bodies using each other for an empty release. It meant nothing. Not without her.
Gripping Fifi’s hips, he closed his eyes and pictured her. Pictured the last time he had been inside of her – the morning before he’d left on that fateful raid.
Her head was thrown back, her eyes were squeezed shut, and she was biting her bottom lip, panting breathlessly, as she rode him hard.
“Come on, Xan,” she breathed, “Come with me.”
No. Way. He wanted t
o hold out as long as he could. In awe, he watched her come, screaming his name and shuddering astride him. She collapsed forward, nose to nose, and opened those bright green eyes of hers. She smiled shyly, her cheeks pink; embarrassed that she’d so completely come apart in front of him.
And that was all it took. With the knowledge that he affected her every bit as much as she affected him, he fell to pieces beneath her, knowing there was nowhere else he’d ever want to be but inside of her.
Recovering from his release, his satiation quickly faded. Soon he would have to open his eyes and it would not be her he’d find sprawled across his chest. Her wouldn't be anywhere. Her was gone.
“Xan?” Fifi’s fingers trailed down his cheek. “Are you okay, baby?”
Fuck, no. He didn’t want to hear Fifi's voice; he wanted to pretend for just a moment longer.
“Go away,” he said hoarsely.
When the door shut softly behind her, still on the floor, he rolled to his side and smiled at the beautiful woman lying naked next to him.
She gave him a wide, sexy smile. “Hey,” she said softly.
He grinned. “Hey yourself.”
CHAPTER NINE
A few days after arriving, I left the park in search of food and supplies. I was determined to fill my Jeep with as much as possible. Using my new map, I came across a decent-sized community with a good number of shops.
“Jackpot,” I whispered, grabbing all five boxes of tampons on the only shelf still standing. Thank the gods for Aunt Marjorie’s General Store. Though there was little food to be found inside, I was able to dig up several bars of soap in the rubble and enough toothbrushes and toothpaste to last a century.
Traveling deeper into town, I managed to find a good amount of supplies in nearby homes. Most of the houses had pantries full of non-perishables that contained a few pleasant surprises, canned pickles and homemade jam in almost every flavor. It was too bad I didn’t have bread, but whatever. Jam on my finger, or on the crackers I’d found, was fine with me.