Paired Pursuit (4 page)

“You think she's one of those chem-attract women?”

“What?”
Finn glanced up at his Twin.

“Like the others have been saying—there's a tiny percentage of women out there who, I don't know, have some sort of je ne sais quoi that complements us exactly. I've been hearing the term
chem-attract
bandied about. They say it's kind of like a fancy love at first sight, applying to both Twins. Might involve pheromones or something like that.”

“I'd ask you what you were smoking if we weren't all ready to rip the pants off her—and she ours.”
Right now, she was eyeing his crotch. As he watched, her gaze shifted to Gareth, taking him in too.

“I suppose you could think of it as joining the mile-long club instead of the mile-high,” Finn offered. As he'd hoped, she smiled.

“Well, we won't get interrupted, at least. There's only one passenger carriage, and there doesn't look to be a way through from the freight cars.”

“Nobody else on the train except the driver,” Finn confirmed. “But, Mari, we won't push you. We just want to get to know you a little.”

“I've never…”

“We know. We'll take it easy, go slow and make sure you enjoy yourself. And your enjoyment is ours.” Gareth spoke this time, his usually gruff voice gentle. Actually, Finn had never seen him so tender with another person. It hit him hard in the heart. Gareth had been through too much. He deserved some kindness in his life.

“It's too early to think about doing something like taking her back to the Complex,”
Gareth warned, following Finn's thoughts to the inevitable.

“Then we'll talk about that afterward.”
Finn teased Mari's blouse up, exposing her breasts. He couldn't help but make a pleased sound in his throat at the sight of her hardened nipples jutting against her bra.
That
had to go, of course, and Gareth supported her as Finn undid the straps at her back.

“Gorgeous.” Gareth voiced the very word he was thinking, and redoubled his efforts at her waist.

Finn couldn't wait, bending to taste her breasts. He drew one nipple into his mouth and she arched against him, stifling a cry. Lifting her a little, he kissed his way up her chest, lingering at the hollow of her neck. He could smell hints of rosewater—a very feminine smell that only served to turn him on further.

Mari tensed in his arms as Gareth eased her tights fully down, pulling back to look at him with a hint of trepidation.

“Our pleasure,” he reminded her. “There is no need to be self-conscious when it's our pleasure.”

“I—I assume you have done this with other women?” There was a slight challenge in her voice, one that had to be addressed.

“Yes.” He made no bones about it. “But both of us together? No.” They'd never found someone suitable.

She looked at Gareth, who nodded. Then whispered an
oh
.

When she moved to shield her body, Finn teased her arm away, bending to claim her lips. Instinct told him that if they stopped, lost momentum, she wouldn't feel confident enough to begin again.

“Hush now, Mari. I don't want to hear a word out of your mouth unless you're moaning in pleasure or asking me to stop. You don't get to talk until you come. Understand?”

Just like that, Finn took control. Competing emotions warred in her eyes—first mutiny, then grateful acceptance. She managed a nod.

“Brave girl,” Gareth said. He rested a hand on her thigh, his hand pale against her darker skin. His other hand tugged her tights the rest of the way off, leaving her bare to their ministrations.

Her body responded to Gareth's praise, warming Finn's heart. Although hesitant, she obeyed their commands as they arranged her body to their liking. Finn supported her back, his arms wrapping around her from behind. It was an ideal position in which to toy with her breasts, something he continued to do. He wanted to keep her aroused and ready to receive pleasure.

When Gareth parted her legs, she made a little sound of distress. “Shhh,” they said in unison.

“You're beautiful,” Finn whispered in her ear.

“Very.” Gareth braced himself against the opposite seats with one powerful leg, eyeing Mari like a long-denied treat. Finn breathed in, anticipating the little shiver she gave when Gareth began to touch her.

With Gareth between her legs and Finn at her breasts, they softened her up, leading her trembling to the edge of orgasm. At one point, the train lurched, but their combined grip on her meant she was never in any danger of falling.

At first she didn't know where to put her hands, but she finally settled upon gripping Gareth's shoulder with one hand and Finn's arm with the other. Her eyes were closed, lips slightly parted as Gareth continued to stroke her and Finn made lazy circles around her nipples.

“Gonna let her come now,”
Gareth sent.

“Good. I forbade her to talk, and I think she's about to start begging.”

“I wouldn't mind a bit of begging now and again.”

Mari stiffened in Finn's arms the instant before the orgasm swept through her. Finn quickly accommodated her as she threw her head back against his shoulder. She was quiet, intentionally holding back her cries and squeezing her eyes firmly shut. She turned her face into the crook of his neck and breathed out shakily.

Definitely a woman in need of some confidence. They'd have to take things slowly. Finn leaned down to nuzzle the top of her head.

“Good girl, giving that up to us,” he told her. “You rest now. I'll hold you.”

* * * * *

The haze around the edges of her vision had barely receded when both men began putting her to rights again, lifting her to pull up her tights and rearranging her skirts. Finn fastened her bra and tugged down her blouse. She had no time to think, no time to regret. Within a few short minutes, she was presentable—rumpled and panting, of course, but modest again.

And yet…
not
modest, for she wanted very much to do it all over again.

When the modern world had come to an end, Earth's population—those not killed in the violence of the initial invasion—had to focus solely on survival. There was no time for sex education, for mass-manufacturing condoms or other birth control. Sex as pleasure turned into sex for procreation.

Most people got married young these days. Conversation tended to revolve around chores or day-to-day life, maybe with some gossip thrown in. Old magazines were hoarded as treasures, and Mari had read only a few. Some of them featured skimpily clad people and relationship advice, which she'd devoured avidly.

She doubted any of them addressed the specifics of a three-way relationship, though. The last article she'd read had involved blowjobs and ice cubes. Who the hell had access to ice cubes these days?

Mari wondered what the magazines would say about men who pleasured her yet denied themselves. Wasn't sex supposed to be a two-way thing? Three-way, in this case. They hadn't done anything for themselves—or let her do anything, for that matter.

“Are you hungry?” Gareth had left her side for a few minutes. Now he was back, unwrapping a large parcel of sandwiches. He placed several jars of juice on the seats.
Real
juice, it looked like. Her mouth watered at that thought. She'd drunk powdered juice for so long.

Still, she had her pride. “I have food in my bags. I'll eat later.”

“What kind of food?” Finn asked conversationally. He was still holding her, feet braced against bumps in the tracks.

“Bread,” she said as brightly as she could. “And boiled turnips.”

“Turnips?” Finn repeated.

She closed her eyes in embarrassment. “They're very filling.” Also cheap enough that she could afford food
and
the train ticket.

“They're
disgusting
.” This from both men.

“Hunger is the best sauce.” Prim Josie, her neighbor, had often repeated that saying. Former neighbor, she corrected herself, and she wouldn't miss the woman.

“These are peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,” Gareth said.

Mari swallowed. “I didn't know peanut butter even existed anymore.”

“It does.” He watched her with those dark green eyes, slightly amused. “Want one?”

Pride only went so far. Mari nodded, and seconds later was biting into the most heavenly meal she'd had in a long time. After the sandwich, Gareth handed her a jar of juice and a small square of actual chocolate.

Bliss.

“I'm spoiled,” she said. “Thank you. For—for all of it.”

They merely smiled at her, which almost made her feel guilty. She'd felt the size of Finn's arousal, seen the fierce hunger in Gareth's eyes. Yet they'd made no demands for themselves. Perhaps…but no, they would be in Scar City in a matter of hours.

By now, the afternoon sun rested a little way above the horizon, reminding her with a jolt that the aliens would soon be roaming. She swallowed, suddenly wanting to get up, to move.

“Which way is the ladies' room?”

“Through that door.” Finn let go of her after a moment, seemingly reluctant to loosen his hold. In fact, he looked as if he wanted to come with her. Now that was a step too far. She gave him a reassuring smile and traversed the aisle, holding firmly on to each seat as she walked. Her head didn't hurt anymore, but it had been a shock to fall like that, and one she refused to repeat.

When she re-emerged, both men were still staring in her direction, as if they couldn't take their eyes off her. Perhaps it was the whole reciprocation thing. Should she feel guilty? Mari made her way back and sat down, this time with some distance between her and Finn.

She couldn't think of how to broach the topic.
I'm not ready
sounded trite. But she wasn't, and the environment unnerved her.

Since she'd been up at four in the morning—her landlord had wanted her out early since there was a new tenant moving in—her brain was growing incredibly fuzzy. She was in desperate need of a nap.

“I…” She trailed off, and was saved the effort of speaking further by Gareth, who simply lifted her into his own lap.

“My turn,” he said with evident satisfaction. “Settle your head right here, baby.”

Mari wanted to protest, but sleep deprivation won out. She wasn't entirely certain when she'd begun to trust these men, but Gareth's lap was too comfortable to resist. Her eyes drifted shut as she gave way to sleep, lulled by the steady rhythm of his heart and the rocking of the train.

Chapter Two

When she woke, she was alone, lying on the seats with a blanket draped over her.

Mari wriggled upright, dismayed to find the Twins gone. Moonlight played over her face as she looked at her watch. It was still an hour until they were due in Scar City.

So why was the train stationary?

“O-
kay
,” she muttered, tossing the blanket aside. She peered out the window, terror icing her veins as she saw the extent of their isolation. There wasn't anything manmade for miles around. No buildings, no people…more importantly, no
wall
.

Mari unholstered the Glock. Maybe those aliens were good bullet-dodgers, but she felt safer with the weapon. Flicking off the safety, she walked slowly down the aisle. All the lights were out; only the moon illuminated the train. And it was quiet. Dead quiet.

Multiple scenarios, each worse than the next, flipped through her mind. Ironically, the worst part was the absence of the Twins.

At least they gave me a blanket. But if they've left the train, I'm probably toast…

She gripped the Glock a little harder. It was more than a little creepy being aboard a dim, deserted train. Any second, someone—or some
thing
—might jump out at her from the darkness. She slowed as she neared the end of the carriage, realizing its door was open.

Any second, an army of Barks could rush in, their pale, fishbelly-white bodies undulating as they opened their sharklike mouths and went for her…

Movement in the door made her trigger finger quiver dangerously. She quickly lowered the gun as she recognized the silhouette as a man.

“Gareth,” she whispered. She didn't know how she recognized him, but her instinct told her it was the quieter of the Twins.

He turned slightly, putting a finger to his lips without stopping his scan of the land around them. Then he reached for her gun, engaged the safety and tucked it back into the holster. Pulling her close, he bent to speak directly into her ear.

“The train broke down. Finn's guarding the other end of the carriage. Stay behind me, and keep quiet. We don't want to attract unwanted attention.”

Unwanted attention.
Now there was a way to put it. Mari stepped back inside the carriage, peering through the window at the seemingly barren land. She'd been wrong earlier about there being no buildings around—there was a ramshackle cabin in the near distance. Was it infested with Barks?

Gareth seemed to focus most of his attention in that direction. Now that his leather jacket was hitched up a bit, she could see two vicious-looking daggers hanging unsheathed at his waist. Electronic ones, judging by the buttons on the hilt. Otherwise, he didn't seem to be armed.

Mari frowned. Twins were faster, stronger, more physically capable than a typical human. They'd been created as super-soldiers. Yet surely even they couldn't successfully fight Barks with two daggers.

In those early days when much of humanity perished, it was reported that Twins had been instrumental in helping to create walled Cities, fighting off Barks by night and shoring up infrastructure by day. Even though more than ninety percent of the population now lived behind walls, Twins still kept busy, guarding transport and Cities.

And, apparently, running strange missions for her government that involved her late father.

Mari took a deep breath and reminded herself that Gareth was probably used to this. She shifted, wondering if she should go check on Finn, but Gareth signaled her to stay put. So she occupied herself by scanning the land herself, wondering what possessed certain people to live outside the safety of walls.

Her own City had only rarely been attacked. The aliens had gotten smarter as years went by, so sustained attacks on walls were rare. The aliens were carnivores and could go long periods without eating. Not that they lacked prey—there was still plenty of wildlife in many areas. Humans, however, seemed to be their favorite dish. So the Barks lurked, preying upon people who didn't make it back inside the gates before nightfall.

Since crops had to be grown somewhere, and space was at a premium inside walls, humans still had to venture outside. Mari had taken a job as a shepherd several years ago, watching over the animals as they grazed during the day, then driving them back inside the City before sunset.
Well
before sunset, in fact, to the point where she was eventually fired because her boss was annoyed that the sheep didn't get that extra half hour of grazing in.

Her boss, however, had never driven the sheep out herself, never experienced the gut-churning terror when one animal wandered a little too far and had to be brought away from an abandoned barn where Barks might have been lurking, waiting to rend flesh away from bone.

That was how Carter had died.

That was also why they assigned two people to tend the flock. These days, stock was too valuable to risk.

Mari sighed. She wouldn't miss her old City. After the death of her parents, nothing much tied her there. Home had been an old shipping container with two small windows covered by curtains her mother had sewn herself. Her father had slept at one end; Mari occupied the other, with a living room of sorts in the middle. Underneath them had been prim, irascible Josie, living with her son in her own container.

As the population recovered, demand for housing was going up. Rent had increased, and the owner of the container had eventually asked for more money than she could give, spurred on by Tim, who wanted to drive her into his arms. Hopefully, the cost of living in Scar City would be cheaper, for she didn't have more than a few dollars left.

That meant she would have to locate her father's stash sooner rather than later, and hope whatever he'd left behind fetched her a decent price.

Gareth's shoulders tensed, and all Mari's thoughts fled. Had he seen something out there? She checked her watch again, realizing she'd been standing there for nearly an hour. And it was still a good six hours until sunrise.

The faintest of barks reached her ears, a low, gruff sound. Oh God. One of the aliens must have caught sight of the train and come to investigate. Worse, it was calling its buddies to come as well.

The first one came into sight a few seconds later, its long, powerful hind legs gleaming white in the moonlight. Mari's breath caught in terror. The urge to run was powerful. She forced herself to hold still, knowing that movement would attract the carnivore's attention.

Another emerged over the horizon, lolloping behind the first as they came over to check out the train. Mari knew that the locomotives had the ability to completely encase themselves, so the driver would be safe behind several tons of metal. Passengers, on the other hand…

Oh hell.
Were
there other passengers? She shook her head, trying to remember. No, this was the only passenger carriage. The rest of the train consisted of freight cars, and she devoutly hoped there wasn't any livestock aboard.

Then again, maybe the stock would distract the Barks from eating
them
.

Mari swallowed hard as three of the creatures came toward them, the third having seemingly materialized out of nowhere. Gareth made the tiniest of gestures, finger pointing to the floor of the carriage. With reluctance, she obeyed, making sure she moved slowly and carefully.

Somehow, not being able to see the aliens made things ten thousand times worse, even though the way they moved made her vaguely queasy. How could they walk so sinuously? Triple-jointed freakish carnivore aliens. Nobody had seen that coming. Not even the NASA technicians who'd first reported the approach of the motherships decades ago.

Half an hour passed, during which she stared at her watch, prayed and kept her hand on the Glock. Then, suddenly, Gareth moved as a flurry of white nearly overwhelmed him.

Instead of reaching for his daggers, he raised his bare hands—and Mari blinked as spears of light arrowed out. One pierced a Bark, and it shrieked, falling to the ground as blackness spread along its side. A scorched smell wafted toward her, overlaid with an unnatural sweet scent that she assumed was from the Bark itself.

Gareth wasted no time dispatching the thing, kicking its corpse to the ground. Then he resumed his watchful stance.

Minutes ticked by, turning into hours. Mari was just beginning to relax when there was another attack. This time, she heard woofs and yowls from the rear of the carriage and knew Finn must be fighting as well. With a white-knuckled grip on her gun, she watched Gareth kill two more of the things.

He was right. There wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that she could shoot one of the aliens. They whipped around too fast, and each part of their segmented bodies seemed to be vaguely autonomous. She watched Gareth sever one with that spear of light. Half of the creature dropped, writhing in the dust in its death throes.

The other half kept coming, baring fiercely sharp teeth and balancing on two, instead of six, legs. It feinted in a series of startlingly swift movements, but Gareth was just as quick. Although its teeth came within a hair's breadth of slicing his skin, the Twin pulled his dagger, driving it through its throat and leaping back as a gout of black blood spurted forth.

He retrieved the dagger and spun, lunging toward Mari as he slammed the carriage door behind him. She moved out of his way, but he motioned her to follow him.

“With me,” he said. “Finn's in trouble.”

Although she tried, she couldn't keep up with him. In fact, he was at the other end before she reached the halfway point. A flash of light illuminated the area as he jumped into the fray. She paused in horror as she registered the sheer number of aliens the Twins were facing. At least six were trying to get aboard the train, snapping and snarling as they jostled for fighting room.

Body parts went flying as Gareth and Finn fought back to back. Finn sliced one creature in half, then turned to Mari, mouthing the word
hide
.

She took his point, for the other end of the carriage was undefended. If a Bark managed to claw open the door, it would be upon her in seconds. But she couldn't hide, couldn't take her eyes off the huge Bark, the leader, who crouched a few yards away watching the fight.

Now and then it would emit a low woof, as if directing the other aliens. Its four eyes were deepest black, fixed upon the Twins with the malevolent hatred of a much-thwarted hunter. When it opened its mouth again, it emitted a howl that could be heard for miles around, a sound that rattled the train's windows and made Mari want to throw up her peanut butter sandwich.

The Twins didn't pause. Couldn't pause, she realized. With the rest of the aliens to kill, their hands were effectively tied.

But
hers
weren't.

She flicked the safety off the Glock and took aim. The leader remained still but for its eyes, an easy target. The two eyes on stalks swiveled backward, as if awaiting reinforcements…

Mari shot. The bullet took the Bark in the mouth, blowing a hole through its webbed cheek.

It screamed, louder than the howl, and whipped upward in movement. Mari fired again, scoring a lucky hit along one of its legs. It squalled again, rearing up and sprinting away in a blur of white. The smaller Barks followed, fleeing the Twins with yaps and snarls into the slowly lightening darkness.

“Th-thought you said they weren't susceptible to bullets,” Mari stuttered as the Twins came back inside. She engaged the safety, and Finn helped her guide the gun back into the holster.

“Bullets have their uses.” Gareth wiped his brow and flashed her a smile. “Nice shooting, Mari. They're gone.”

Whatever Finn was about to say was interrupted by a bleeping in the corner. The Twin reached over and picked up an old-fashioned phone, holding the receiver to his ear. “Yeah?”

The female voice on the other end was so strident, Mari could hear every word. “Everyone all right back there?”

“We drove them off, but we won't survive another night out here,” Finn said.

“Won't have to,” the woman said. “I was able to replace the faulty part myself. Hell of a place for a gasket to blow, huh? Anyhow, we can roll out in the next few minutes. Train can't go over thirty miles per hour, but we'll get to Scar City eventually.”

“Good to know.” Finn looked relieved. Even so, he never took his eyes off the horizon. Gareth adopted a similar watchful position.

“What's the body count back there?”

“Zero. There's only three passengers aboard.”

“
And two are Twins. Well, thank God for that. Okay, we're rolling out now.”

There was a click as the driver hung up. Finn replaced the receiver on the hook and reached over to close the carriage door. Without a word, Gareth left, taking up a position at the other door. It was as if they were communicating telepathically.

Duh, of course they were. They'd told her as much. With a shiver, she realized they'd most likely been communicating mind-to-mind during their…well, earlier.

“You're blushing,” Finn said. He'd remained next to her, sitting in the aisle seat this time.

“Am I?” She tried to rally but was thrown off-balance—literally—when the train began to move.

Smoothly, Finn leaned forward and tucked her into a tight embrace. She pressed her cheek against his chest, sudden gratitude that they were alive making her a little weak at the knees. The sun was a golden glow on the horizon, growing ever brighter as the train sped up slightly. After its earlier high speed, thirty miles per hour seemed slow. It was a damn sight better than remaining still, though. She supposed she ought to thank her lucky stars that the driver had been able to fix the train and get it rolling again. How long had they sat there in the middle of nowhere? Mari was glad she'd been able to sleep through some of it.

Finn buried his nose in her hair, sniffing. “You smell so good.”

What did one say to that? “Compared to sweat and alien blood, anything smells good.”