Fires Of Solstice Part 2

Rhys started to reply then stopped. He stared at the man he'd raised from infancy. Bleddyn never spoke of women so crudely. His bloodl.u.s.t was getting worse.

Chapter Two.

Meredythe glanced at her watch. 8:15. She'd gotten everything from this data CD that she could. Standing, she arched her back. Lifting her arms above her head, she stretched upward, turning and twisting her neck and rolling her shoulders to work out the kinks that had grown there during the time she'd spent hunched over her computer. "I should' ve listened to Aunt Evie about my posture," she muttered to herself as she popped the CD out, put it in a plastic case, dropped it into her briefcase and turned off the computer. Grabbing her purse, she shrugged into her coat. As she left, she nodded to the woman cleaning the office and rode the elevator to the lobby. With a "Happy Halloween, Ms. Welsh", the doorman hailed a cab when she stepped outside.

Twenty minutes later, she stepped out of the cab into a group of miniature goblins, witches and ghosts. Wis.h.i.+ng them all a Happy Halloween, she hurried into her building. As she entered her apartment, she dropped her purse and briefcase on the small table. A nice, long, hot soak in the tub would be perfect.

"Merrooww!"

"I know, Methuselah, I'm late. I'm sorry. I'll have your dinner in a minute. Only two more days and you'll be home. Then you can boss Aunt Evie to your heart's content," she muttered to the large, fluffy, blue-gray cat. Holding her breath, she opened a can of cat food, dumped it into a bowl and set it on the floor. The strong odor of fish wafted upward. "Jeez, Thuse, how can you eat stuff that stinks so much?"

Disappearing into the bathroom, she turned on the hot water and dumped half a bottle of bubble bath into the old-fas.h.i.+oned clawfoot tub. The heady scent of pa.s.sionflowers swirled through the air with the steam. After a deep breath, she headed into her bedroom and stripped. For a moment, she stared at the ripped pantyhose she'd been wearing. Then, with a curse, she balled them up and tossed them into the trash.

Glancing at her reflection in the mirror, she started then stepped closer. Her cheeks looked like she'd rubbed a Brillo pad against them.

An unshaven face appeared in her mind's eye.

"No! He was an a.s.shole-not worth thinking about!" She shoved his face from her mind.

Mind fixed firmly on the information she'd reviewed, Meredythe strolled naked into the kitchen, pulled a bottle of white wine out of the refrigerator and poured herself a gla.s.s. Wrinkling her nose at the taste, she decided to drink it anyway. It had only been in the fridge a week and didn't taste that bad.

Carrying her wine back into the bathroom, she turned on the cold water. Methuselah joined her.

Glancing down at the cat, she smiled. "Care to join me? No? Not interested?" she continued when the cat wrinkled his nose and ambled out the door. Sticking her hand in the water, she swished it around a few times. Perfect.

Turning off both faucets, she set her wine on a small table next to the tub, pinned up her hair and climbed in. Leaning back, she rested her head against the rolled edge of the tub and closed her eyes, willing her tense muscles to relax.

The dark-haired, gray-eyed man appeared in her mind's eye again. His kisses had been the most erotic she'd ever experienced. What would his mouth on her nipples feel like?

Both nipples puckered in response.

A s.h.i.+ver danced down her spine.

Water splashed as she slapped it. d.a.m.n it! Who was that guy? Why couldn't she forget him?

The man in her mind smiled and beckoned to her. His clothing disappeared and he stood before her naked.

His erect c.o.c.k bobbed.

She s.h.i.+vered again.

Water swirled around her as Meredythe s.h.i.+fted. Her p.u.s.s.y began to ache.

As her mind began to travel down new, erotic paths, she rubbed a knuckle against her distended nipple then slid both hands down her stomach. She twirled one finger in her pubic hair while another parted the lips of her p.u.s.s.y.

Her c.l.i.t was hard.

She rubbed it.

"Mmm." Thrusting her hips forward, she arched her back. Cool air teased her nipples as they rose from the warm water. Warm, silky water caressed her arms.

In her mind, she heard him chuckle seductively.

She rubbed harder at the memory of his fingers sliding, swirling and stroking against her. Her c.u.n.t muscles contracted. She was so hot, so ready to come. A few more rubs.

The thought of him thrusting his rock-hard c.o.c.k into her p.u.s.s.y had her shuddering and gasping.

"Ahh."

Water swirled and eddied as waves of pleasure rolled over her.

"Meerroow?"

Water splashed as Meredythe jerked her hand away from her c.u.n.t, sat up and tossed a heated glare in the direction of the huge cat that was using the toilet lid as a platform.

He batted at the bubbles in the tub then stared at her with an all-knowing expression.

Meredythe stared back.

An uncanny light flickered in the cat's eyes.

Grabbing the washcloth and soap, she started scrubbing her legs. He was only a cat. What difference did it make if he watched her m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.e?

She glanced at him again.

He was grinning a Ches.h.i.+re grin.

"Don't look at me like that." She slapped a small splash his way.

Drops of water scattered as Methuselah shook his head then glared at her. Only a cat. That's what you think, Meredythe!

Meredythe shook her head. What was that buzzing in her ears?

With an aggravated hiss, Methuselah jumped to the floor and minced out the open door, tail high in the air, displaying wounded dignity as only an indignant cat could.

Meredythe sent another small splash after him then closed her eyes again, forcing her mind away from the dark-haired, gray-eyed stranger, refusing to acknowledge how her body responded to his blatant s.e.xuality. Instead she compelled herself to review everything she'd read in the last two hours. There was a murderer out there, and she was going to find him.

Quickly she swiped the washcloth over her sensitive nipples. The memory of the stranger kneading her breast surfaced.

No! She would not give in to urges caused by him!

"f.u.c.k! I don't even know what his name is. Forget that a.s.shole, girl. Focus, Meredythe! Focus! Murder. Think murder! Blood! Guts!" Dropping the soap into its dish, she wrenched her mind back to the information she'd been studying.

Three years wasn't all that long. Should she look back farther? What about the dates? There was something there. All the murders happened around June 21 or December 21, except for one on March 21. Why? What was so special about those dates? Aunt Evie would know, but she wasn't home. It was October now. If this guy followed through, there'd be another murder in December. But where?

With a sigh, she fished the plug out of the drain with her toes and rose, water and bubbles sluicing off her. Wrapping herself in a fluffy towel, she headed for the bedroom where she threw on an old sweats.h.i.+rt and tattered sweatpants. Returning to the living room, she sat down at her computer.

"The longest and shortest nights of the year," she said to the empty room after a few minutes. "Maybe there is some kind of cult involved."

Yawning, she stretched. "I'm too tired to get involved with this now, Thuse," she muttered to the cat that had jumped up onto her lap. "Besides, if I start, I won't stop, and I have to go to work tomorrow." Shutting down the computer, she rose and scooped the cat into her arms. "Come on. Time for bed."

She yawned again as she snuggled under the covers. Methuselah curled next to her. Pulling him into her arms, she said, "What do you think, Thuse-is this a better story than Albany?"

It will change your life forever, Meredythe.

Meredythe shook her head again. d.a.m.n buzzing.

The cat stretched out next to her. His nightly lullaby-a deep rumbling purr-soon had her asleep.

Outside, the sky darkened and wisps of clouds stretched their fingers toward the round moon, obscuring its light. Young Halloween trick-or-treaters were back home, tucked safely in their beds, their dreams filled with visions of gorging on the candy they' d collected. Older revelers were still out and about-the parties they were attending would go on to the wee hours of the morning.

In a select few residences, small groups of white-clad wors.h.i.+pers commemorated the old Druid celebration of Samhain.

In Central Park, a wolf howled.

Sitting up, Methuselah stretched and nudged Meredythe with his nose. Mumbling something incomprehensible, she rolled over. After another long stretch, the cat jumped off the bed, trotted across the room, snaked his way under the drapes and leaped onto the windowsill where the radiance of the full, white moon bathed him with luminescent light. Arching, he rubbed himself against the window then jumped back down to the floor. Nosing around the edge of the drapes, he found the cord that would open them and leaped. His claws caught in the soft rope and the drapes parted. Soft moonlight flowed across the bed.

Meredythe mumbled something and rolled away from the moon's silvery light. Jumping back up onto the bed, Methuselah snuggled next to her and began to purr.

Roll over, Meredythe. The moon beckons.

She mumbled again and rolled back over. Eyes narrowing, Methuselah stared intently into her face. His purr became deeper, its cadences dancing in a rich, melodic rhythm.

Meredythe began to dream...

"This is rape," a woman's voice spat.

Head bowed, Meredythe clawed her way toward consciousness. Rape! Where was she?

Smooth but hard wood braced her back and cradled her b.u.t.tocks. Clearing the fog from her brain, the scents of rain, fresh pine and wood smoke tickled her nose.

Her voice low and intense, the woman spoke again. "Do you honestly believe Bleddyn will agree to the ceremony with her like this?"

Ceremony? What ceremony? Bleddyn? What did a man named Wolf have to do with her? Chin resting against her chest, eyes still closed, Meredythe tensed her wrists slightly. They were bound to the arms of the chair in which she sat. G.o.d's breath, she was still a prisoner.

The deep thumps of drums reverberated around her, strong and low, in time with her heart. Better to let them think she was still senseless.

Keeping her head bowed, she slowly opened her eyes and peered out from beneath her lashes.

A man and woman, both dressed in white robes, stood in front of her.

Obviously angry, the woman stood before the man, her hands fisted on her hips.

"Has she awakened yet?"

The old druid pushed himself erect and shook his head. "Not yet, Eibhlin."

Frowning, the woman glanced over his shoulder at her.

Meredythe forced herself to breathe normally.

"The potion should have worn off by now. How much did you give her?"

The druid's tired voice held a hint of irritation. "Half again as much as the first dose.

She's more spirited than you led me to believe."

The woman tsked and turned her attention back to the druid. "Bleddyn will not take her if she's unconscious."

Meredythe bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming. Take her! Again she tensed her wrists against her bonds. She had to find a way to escape.

The druid tugged at his beard. "I didn't have a choice," he answered in a tight voice. "She tried to run away at least half a dozen times during the journey."

"By all the G.o.ds," Eibhlin snapped, "did you just throw her on the back of your horse and take her away from everything she's ever known?"

He winced. "There was no time. We had to be here on Samhain-before the sun set."

Eibhlin glared at him. "Does she even know why she's here?"

The druid's shoulders tensed at the woman's question. Muttering something under his breath, he turned away and gestured toward the blazing bonfire. The flames rose into the darkness.

Eibhlin crossed her arms over her bosom. "Fire tricks won't change anything. With her like this, the ceremony will be nothing but rape. Do you honestly believe Bleddyn will agree?"

The druid whirled to face her, his voice low, potent. "He has no choice! The seeress's prophecy is clear. Only the blood of the pure, untainted woman who is destined to be his mate will save him. He must take her or succ.u.mb to the bloodl.u.s.t. Just this once, will you not support me?"

Muscles tense, Meredythe waited for the woman's answer.

Eibhlin opened her mouth as if to say something, but then she dropped her eyes and nodded once. "I've always supported you, Rhys, in one way or another. Now is not the time to argue. I only hope she is not completely traumatized. Your spells are set?"

He nodded. "All the paths are guarded. Only those invited are here."

Both turned to face the bonfire. Beyond them, Meredythe spied men and women leaping about it, the tattoos on various limbs bleeding in and out of the shadows.

The druid mumbled a curse under his breath then snarled, "We are so few now, and little if any hope remains. The acolytes and priests of this new G.o.d are driving the old religions and beliefs to extinction. Our time grows short and without the moon, all could be lost. What will we do then? How will we save him? Bleddyn needs-"

Before Rhys could finish, wolves howled deep beneath the shadowed trees. From the small clearing the deafening beats of drums and shrill, whistling bleats of pipes answered them. Then a deeper, more powerful howl rolled about the clearing.

Meredythe glanced toward the shadows beneath the trees.