Excessica Anthology BOX SET Winter (104 page)

“Any
signs of a Rose Red, get out of there,” Zack told her, but the humor in his
voice kept her from commenting.

Taking
a flashlight out, she flipped it on and scanned the room. “It’s never been this
cold in the fall.”

“There
must be a party going on.”

“Aw,
are you guys throwing me an anniversary party? I’m honored you remember,” she
said as she watched for shadows to appear on the thermal unit. “Moving through
the living room toward the dining room.” She walked in the next room and the K2
lights flashed across the board. “K2 is maxing; I have a shadow on the far end
of the table,” she told them. “Jackpot. Found the party. At least six gathered
around the table. Wonder who and what the meeting is about? Temperatures down
to forty-five in here. Show time.”

Carla
set the meters on the table and pulled the file out. She scattered the photos
on the table. “Henry, is your killer among the photos here?”

She
waited, unsure of what to expect. A bang behind her had her whirling.

Chapter 9

“What
the hell was that?” Bobby asked.

When
she heard Bobby’s voice, she knew Zack had gone to her trailer. “Don’t get your
britches in a bunch. It was only the pocket doors separating the two rooms
being closed.”

“Why?
How?”

She
gave a little laugh, but she wasn’t as comfortable as she sounded. There were
more apparitions then she’d ever seen in one area before. “If it wasn’t me,
guess.” Turning back, she saw the photos had been stacked into a neat pile with
one left out in front of her. “Are you sure, Henry? Agnes Duncan died long
before you were born.” A chair rocked and fell back on the floor.

“Interesting,”
Zack whispered.

“Why
would she want to harm you?” An answer wasn’t expected, nor was the sudden
pulling back and being shoved against the wall.

“Carla!
What’s happening?” Zack said with more concern than curiosity.

“I’m
ok. I’m ok.” A light touch ran down the side of her face. She’d been here
before. She knew what was going on. She knew the dangers of ghosts touching
humans. They were no longer ruled by laws of the living so anything went. It
was important to be still and not show fear, but this one had never hurt her.

Something
grazed her neck and she pressed her lips together to avoid making a sound. She
sensed lust, hunger and purpose. Shudders swept through her.

“Talk
to us, Carla.”

She
moaned. It was hard not to when it felt like a feather teasing the erroneous
zones of her neck.

“Damn
it, Carla! Talk to us!” Bobby ordered.

“Shhh,”
she whispered. She heard Bobby’s distress, but couldn’t…“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she
said when her hands were drawn over her head and held together while her feet
were spread further apart. This was definitely more aggressive. She must have
ticked Henry off enough to give her the change she hoped for.

“There’s
a faint shadow in front of you,” Zack told her.

“Let
it happen.” Her flesh burned beneath the willowy touches. She lowered her eyes
and saw nothing, but felt it through her sweater. Her body tingled, her crotch
was wet, and she ached to feel the full effect. To finally finish the
report…her eyes closed when he tugged on her nipple. “Mmm, feels amazingly
real.”

Touches
brushed over her hips, eased down her legs and back up. “I’m slipping,” she
mumbled.

“Stay
with me, Carla. Don’t let it consume you.”

“Feels
so good.”

She
was pulled to the floor and enveloped in warmth despite the cold of the wood
floor, and the air. She reached beneath her and pulled the pack from her back.
Her hips rose, her head tipped back, and if she didn’t know different, she
would have thought she was naked and being ravished for real. It felt real,
more real than before. “Oh, Henry,” she moaned, falling under the magic touch
of his mouth over her abdomen, his fingers massaging the folds of her lips.

The
sensations stopped, then softness moved over her lips and hardness filled her.
She thrust into him, taking all of him deep, he filled her without the pain of
a first time. The movements she felt drove her up and down with wild hunger,
and need gripped her like coiled spring. With her feet planted for leverage,
her fingers groped for anything to hold onto. “Oh, yes,” she whispered.

Her
labored breathing drew in cold air. It hurt, but she needed the release
hovering on the edge. He needed to get her off. “Please,” she begged. The urge
to wrap her legs around his, to drive him deeper, to make the contact with her
nub added to the need.

Sweat
beaded on her forehead as he rode her, long, hard. Spasms preceded the sudden
speed of the ghostly cock inside her. Panting, she bucked at the onset of the
orgasm. He gave short intermittent thrusts while she convulsed and eased down.
Then nothing. She felt nothing, but lethargic. “Heavenly awesome, Henry.” A
wisp touched her cheek, a kiss maybe. Satisfied, she let herself drift off.

* *
* *

“Oh,
my god! Carla, are you all right? Honey, talk to me.”

Carla
looked at Bobby through heavy eyelids, and then saw Zack, smiling over his
shoulder. “I’m good,” she whispered. Bobby scooped her up and started through
the house. “We got it, Zack. We got it,” she mumbled, and rested her head
against Bobby’s shoulder.

Back
in the trailer, he laid her out on the bed. “What can I get you?”

She
waved him off and sat up. “I’m fine. That was so amazing.”

Zack
walked up to her and kissed her on both cheeks. “You did it. Ghost sex to
completion. As soon as he took you to the floor, the others left.”

“Man,
shut the hell up!” Bobby yelled. “She could have been hurt.”

Carla
reached up and took his hand. “Hey, calm down. Sit down. I’m fine. Henry, now
that I know it’s him for sure, has had a thing for me forever.” Smiling, she
looked at Zack. “He was more aggressive, because of the anger of seeing his
killers face, but…wow.” She jumped up. “I have to go swab, bag and tag.”

Twenty
minutes later, she emerged, showered and in fresh clothes. “I’m starved,” she
said before realizing she was alone. She giggled and sat down at the
workstation. “You guys better not be eating without me,” she said into the
headset.

“Nope.
I’m fantasizing about steak and eggs though.”

“Bobby
with you?”

“No.
He was pretty shook up, maybe he took a walk.”

“Maybe.”
Pushing the disappointment aside, Carla started writing up her experience.

Pages
later, she leaned back in the chair and scanned the monitors. It’d been quiet
since they left the house, normally so. Rotating her neck, she wished Bobby had
stayed around long enough to talk about what he saw. Let her help him
understand, but she guessed he wasn’t as all right with what she does as he
wanted to be. Damn it!

Chapter
10

“You’re
thinking too much about it,” Zack said.

“What?”
Carla asked.

“Your
breathing changed, so I knew you’d finished writing and let your mind switch
back to him.”

“Yeah.
He researched ghost sex, learned the lingo, and I thought he was really genuine
about wanting to learn what we do; be with me.”

“Unsolicited
advice coming.” He paused and she rotated her neck. “He just saw firsthand, his
woman having a sexual experience with the unknown. That’s different than
reading about it. Give him space.”

“I
did that once. I gave up waiting.”

“Yep,
when was the last time you had a date; sex. Aside from this morning?”

“You
know the answer.”

“I
do. Foundation aside, he’s here to set things right. I think the ball is in
your court whether you want it or not”

The
door opened and she watched Bobby come through it. Her heart accelerated. “I
thought you left. Left, as in couldn’t hack it.”

“I
figured you need some time, so I went back to the motel to clean up.” He held
up a bag of familiar to-go containers. “Breakfast. Steak and eggs for the guys,
ham and eggs for the lady, and orange juice,” he said, holding up a bag from
the grocery store.

She
heard the door of the house slam. In seconds, Zack appeared behind Bobby. “Did
I hear steak and eggs?”

Carla
grinned. “His fantasy comes true. Better hand it over before he knocks you down
and takes it.”

Bobby
set the bag down on the stove and handed him a Styrofoam container. “I had all
the eggs scrambled, hope that’s all right?”

“Thanks,
man.” Nearly purring, he left and Bobby set a container down near her. “Are you
ok?” she asked him.

“Yeah,
why?” he asked with his back to her.

“Well,
you seemed upset before.”

“Concerned,
not upset.” He walked away and searched the cupboards until he found her stash
of plastic cups. “I was uncomfortable watching it,” he admitted while pouring
juice into them.

“Can
you explain it to me so I understand why?” she asked, unsure how to help him
deal with something he still has issues with.

He
placed his hands on the stove and stared down at the floor for seconds that
felt longer. The struggle within him was obvious, but she waited it out.

“I’ve
always wanted to be the one who would make you feel…it’s crazy. A ghost had sex
with you and I never have. I want to. I’ve always wanted to be the one to make
love you.”

“And
you’re going to when this day is done.” Stunned she told him that, she
swallowed. There was no regret, but the admission and the commitment were
unexpected.

His
head came around and he straightened, frowning. “Was it part of your plan when
you went in the house?”

“A
plan, no. There is never a plan when dealing with ghosts. Hope, yes. You always
hope for more, but always content with anything they want to share with you.”
She crossed to him. “This, today, well, it’s more than he’s ever done before. I
hoped for it as I have with every session we set up here.”

She
gave a heavy sigh, feeling tired and in need of the food filling the air with
scents of culinary magic. But, this was important, too.

“Always
before, he’s been reserved, content with a little making out. Everyone has a
trigger that takes them to the next level. It can be dangerous, especially when
you don’t know the circumstances behind their death, or their life. I never
tried provoking him, because until yesterday, we knew nothing about him. His
name is Henry Duncan. He was twenty years old, home from school for the summer.
He was going to become a doctor. One day, he returned home from church before
his aunt and uncle. They found him in the kitchen doorway with a bible in one
hand, a paper in the other and a knife in his chest. No one knows what
happened, or why, much less who.”

“Now
you do.”

She
nodded. “The woman he says killed him had been dead for a long time. What she
had against him, I have no idea.”

“So,
it’s another puzzle you want to solve.”

“I’m
not sure yet. At least not today. It was enough to see how his murderers photo
raised his aggressiveness to the level of coming after me with…I won’t say
vengeance, but a need to work off the anger in a way most lovers respond to one
another when emotions control them.”

“Its
research, I know, but when we walked in and I saw you lying there, still. I panicked.
I thought he hurt you.”

“He
wouldn’t.” She folded her arms and leaned against the closet beside the stove.

He
pulled her into his arms and she took comfort in the beat of his heart beneath
her ear. “We’re going to stir them up.”

“They’ll
have to get used to it.”

“Yeah,
they will.” She stepped back. “We should eat before it gets any colder.”

His
arm came around her and yanked her closer. “If I have to wait to show you how
much I love you, I can at least give you something to tide us over.”

“Mmm,
please.”

About
Bekki Lynn

Bekki
loves writing contemporary sub-genres, seeing how this is the era she knows.
How could she not, she’s lived in it for a long time. While her real life isn’t
quite as lively or dramatic as the scenarios she writes, her stories tend to
stem from bits of daily events and night terrors.

Slaves of the Tarsus

By
Jennifer Campbell

Princess
Kestra stood looking out into the Sarconian night from the balcony of her
luxurious suite at her father’s palace. It was not terribly cold, just a
familiar nip in the air, so the Princess Kestra had walked out on the balcony
naked. Flanking the princess were her two lovely handmaidens, Zenna and Dowena,
who were also naked. Zenna was busy combing out her lady’s long, lustrous,
raven hair while Dowena was pleasuring her lady, an act both princess and
servant always enjoyed. From her position on her knees, Dowena’s lips and
tongue were busy exploring the sweetness of Kestra’s sex.

In
Sarconian society, this was Dowena’s purpose. Both handmaidens had been born
into the service of their royal mistress and had been trained since an early
age to fulfill Kestra’s needs in all ways. Both servant and Mistress lived in a
world which had just recently emerged from primitive tribal societies which
constantly warred with each other into the light of a single united world under
the rule of a wise King. Kestra’s father, King Valla, was the fourth King of
Sarcon and if the royal lineage was not broken Kestra would be the very first
Queen of a united Sarcon.

Always
keen to satisfy her lady, Dowena looked up at Kestra to see if her tongue was
pleasing as she had not heard lusty moans nor felt the gentle quivers of
Kestra’s desire. The blonde-haired handmaid saw a faraway look in Kestra’s eyes
and immediately asked. “Is my tongue not to your liking this evening,
Mistress?”

Kestra
looked down at her servant who at times seemed more like a sister to her. She
had been nine when the two handmaidens had begun to serve her every need and
the truth was they had not been much older than the princess they served. “No
reason for you to worry, Dowena, it’s not your tongue which vexes me. I’m
worried about the meaning of father’s summons to the council chambers. If it
means a change in my role, I do not know what father expects.”

Dowena’s
green eyes could offer no answer as a mere servant had no understanding of
royal duties, but Dowena did offer one interesting morsel. “Something may be
afoot, Princess, have you seen the look on General Augustus’ face lately.”

Kestra
laughed for she had seen the old general looking quite different than his
normal disciplined and hardened self. Augustus was a hero, the commander who
suppressed the last of the independent tribes more than two decades ago forcing
them to join the unity of Sarcon. “Yes, I have. What did you make of his look?”

“Worry,
Mistress?” The handmaiden paused as if afraid to utter her real thought. “I
would say fear, but it could not be so.”

All
three females giggled at the thought of fear permeating Sarcon’s greatest
living soldier, but Kestra was the first to stop and pose the question. “What
if he is afraid?”

This
thought brought silence as the implications of Augustus actually being afraid
were almost incomprehensible to Kestra and her servants.

After
a time, Zenna, the older of the two handmaidens spoke up. Kestra considered
Zenna more dependable, sensible, and stable than the more impulsive Dowena. “It
could not be so. He must be ill or have personal troubles. After all, your
father shows no signs of fear. Surely if there was a threat to Sarcon it would
weigh most heavily on our King.” Zenna shook out her flowing red hair and
continued brushing Kestra’s locks as if she had put an end to the silly issue
of Augustus being afraid.

“Yes
indeed, sound thinking, Zenna, and Father may simply want me to meet the
council. It’s silly of me to be worried.” Kestra was trying to reassure
herself, but she was not sure it was working. King Valla had shared his rule
with her after her mother Queen Mona had died when Kestra was but five, but Valla
had carefully chosen his daughter’s duties so she would be exposed to the
easier and happier aspects of ruling, not the hard decisions.

“Shall
I continue to pleasure you, Mistress? Perhaps it would take your mind off your
worries?” Dowena had stopped licking Kestra’s sex, but she was anxious to
return to what was one of her favorite duties.

Kestra
didn’t verbally respond, as her mind was deep in thought, but she did step
closer to Dowena which the handmaid took as a sign to continue. As Dowena’s
lips again found her sex, Kestra’s cool violet eyes looked up at the three
glowing Sarconian moons as they journeyed over the dark forms of the Mountains
of Forever in the distance.

Kestra
knew her mother’s face from paintings mostly, but in the fourteen years which
had passed since Queen Mona’s death, Kestra had seen her mother’s face in
visions which appeared at critical times in her life. Because of this, Kestra
was not surprised when Mona’s face appeared in the night sky.

The
vision spoke to her.
“You have made me and your father so proud, Kestra, as
I always knew you would. Yet I come to warn you. There is danger on the
horizon; a test of your strength and the very survival of Sarcon. You may have
to sacrifice all to save what you love.”

Kestra
was so stunned by her mother’s words she pushed Dowena’s head away and quickly
moved to the edge of the balcony. This time Mona’s words had been so real in
her head she felt her mother must be there close by, but as she scanned the
castle courtyard below she saw no one. “Mother, is it truly you? If so I beg
you to please tell me more.”

Kestra’s
question made Zenna and Dowena aware their lady was seeing something they were
not and they rushed to her side.

“What
do you see, Princess?” The sensible Zenna asked with concern.

Again
Kestra ignored her handmaidens and pleaded for more guidance from her mother.
“Mother, tell me what I must do, please.” There was a clear desperation in
Kestra’s voice, but only silence surrounded the three women.

Now
the frightened Dowena went to her knees and grabbed her princess about the
waist gasping. “Please come back to us, Mistress. You frighten us with this
speaking to nothing.”

Kestra
turned her head to look at Dowena intending to comfort her servant, but the
face she saw on the blonde handmaiden was not Dowena’s. It was a black face
with glowing red eyes and skin which seemed slimy and scaly like that of a
reptile. The face said nothing, but the more the eyes glowed the more
frightened Kestra became.

In
her fear she turned to Zenna who had always been her rock when she felt
frightened, but the Zenna she stared at was not the Zenna she knew. The
handmaiden still had her long red hair and her alabaster skin, but the once
unblemished skin was now marked with welts and whip marks showing extreme
cruelty had been inflicted on Zenna. Worse than the marks was the swelling of
Zenna’s belly and abdomen to such an extreme degree Kestra felt her servant’s
middle might burst open at any second. To add to Kestra’s terror, this horrible
image of Zenna spoke to her.
“Please save me, Princess, save us all.”

It
was too terrible for Kestra to bear and she turned and ran screaming back into
her royal suite throwing herself on her bed in tears.

Not
understanding what their lady had seen, Dowena and Zenna hurried after their
Mistress and found her sprawled on her bed sobbing.

“It’s
too horrible, but I don’t understand. How can I save them?” Kestra was
repeating his between her sobs and when Zenna touched her she turned and
flashed a hysterically frightened look at her servant. It was as if she was
frightened of them.

“Please,
Princess, do not be frightened of us. What troubles you and who needs to be
saved?” Zenna asked as she slowly placed her hand on her lady’s bare shoulder.

Kestra’s
face showed some relief, for the normal pretty faces of her handmaids were
back, but she could not forget what she had seen moments ago. “Thank the gods,
you are both back. I . . . saw something. Something terrible . . . but it’s
gone now. It must have been a bad dream.” Kestra pulled both her servants close
to hug their warm and soft skin as if reassuring herself at least for now all
was well.

Yet
the always curious Dowena couldn’t help but ask. “What did you see, Mistress?”

Kestra
looked into Dowena’s lovely green eyes and paused wondering which course to
take.
What should I say to them? What I thought I saw seems impossible so
would they even believe me if I spoke of it? What good would come of
frightening them?
Kestra battled with her conscience for only a moment
before resolving no such creature like she’d seen existed on Sarcon.

“There
was no sense to it, Dowena, so it was just a bad dream. I want you both in bed
with me tonight, so go finish your duties.” Kestra lay back of the soft sheets
of her bed and watched while Zenna and Dowena raced about snuffing candles,
closing drawers, and locking doors to prepare for bed. When their duties were
done, Zenna and Dowena slipped between the sheets filled with resolve to
pleasure their lady and make her forget her bad dream.

However
as the sweet tongues went to work on her nipples and her sex, Kestra could not
let go of her vision. Having seen her mother just before the terrible visions
made her feel like Mona sent the other visions as warnings. They were all due
to leave on the morrow on a journey to Kropolis, the capital of Sarcon, where
Kestra would met her father’s council for the first time. As she lay there
being pleasured, Kestra had one overwhelming thought permeating her mind and
she spoke it to her servants. “No matter what happens tomorrow or in the future
you two must always stay at my side. We must never be separated. Do you
understand?”

Both
handmaidens took the time to softly speak, “Yes, Mistress”, before they went
back to pleasuring Kestra. However it was not so easy for Kestra to quell the
gnawing fear in her belly, so she fell back on what the little girl inside her
had always known.
When we get to Kropolis, I shall tell father of my vision.
He will know what to do.

* *
* *

Kestra
woke early and since she was anxious to get underway so she woke her
handmaidens and set them to packing her things. When they were ready, all three
women slipped into the sheer travel silks which were popular for young maidens
of Sarcon. Soft yet quite diaphanous, these coverings were designed to accentuate
rather than hide their feminine charms in the eyes of the men. As usual Dowena
wore her shimmering black to Zenna’s gossamer white while the Princess was clad
in the violet which was both symbolic of her royal status and more importantly
matched her eyes. Soon they were standing in the courtyard before a line of
wagons and one royal coach and they all knew every male eye on the palace
grounds was on them.

A
tall, young man in a Sarconian military uniform presented himself to the Kestra
when all was ready for departure. He did so formally as if he did not already
know the Princess. “You may board your carriage now, your Majesty, as we are
ready to leave. It will be my honor to command your escort.”

Kestra
remained straight-faced while her handmaidens giggled at the soldier’s
formality. “Well done, Captain, but surely your duty will permit you to ride
with us in the royal coach? After all, I should like a kiss from one I am bound
to.”

Captain
Taylar’s face visibly relaxed. He was indeed one of several handsome young
males who had been bound for possible mating to Kestra. Sarconian custom bound
multiple males to each female and left it to the female to decide which she
would be joined to for mating. Kestra had already made her choice in this
delicate matter, but she had not yet told Taylar the news.

At
Kestra’s suggestion of a kiss, Taylar felt bound to grant her wish so he pushed
forward and planted his lips on Kestra’s. In an even bolder display, he reached
inside her violet silks to touch her intimately as he kissed her. His actions
were not only allowed, they were encouraged by Kestra and Sarconian custom.

Momentarily
Kestra considered encouraging Taylar to go further. If she did they might end
up having intercourse right there in the palace courtyard, but she dismissed
the idea when the terrible visions of last night entered her mind. It would be
best to get to Kropolis and speak with her father. She broke off the kiss and
whispered softly to him.

“Thank
you, Taylar, for your delightful touch, but we must get to Kropolis with all
speed. I need to see my father.” Kestra sensed his disappointment, but she knew
the news she would have for him later would restore his happiness.

Taylar
clenched his teeth with the denial of his need, yet he understood such moments
might be many if he became the consort of the Queen of Sarcon. If she chose him
to join with, his title of King Consort of Sarcon would be purely ceremonial.
He would not rule, he would simply sit beside she who did.

“As
you wish, Majesty.” Taylar bowed respectfully and followed behind Zenna and
Dowena towards the royal coach.

* *
* *

The
day long journey to the Kropolis was uneventful, but upon arrival at the
capitol Kestra went immediately to see her father but found her way blocked by
a familiar face, General Augustus, who denied her access to her father.

“Sorry,
your Highness, but his Majesty is in extremely important meetings with his
council which cannot be interrupted.” Augustus’ tone was firm, but Kestra had
managed to charm the old general in the past.

“Certainly
he will see me, General, it’s very important. Can’t you get me in to see him?”
She smiled her special smile for the old warrior.

Augustus
smiled back briefly, but then his smile faded. “I’m afraid this time I can’t,
Kestra. There are matters under consideration which are more important than a
king seeing his daughter. Please be patient, you will understand it all
shortly.” Augustus’ face was grim; hinting at the possibility Kestra might not
want to understand once she did. To add to Kestra’s apprehension, she noted the
old general’s hand was shaking as he spoke.
What can possibly frighten
Augustus so?