cb.coldheart canyon-第41部分

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s　charge。　She　was　dark：　dark　skin；　dark　hair；　dark　eyes。　And　she　was　already　lying　back　on　a　bed　of　bodies。　She　pulled　him　eagerly　towards　her　and　cupped　his　face　with　her　hands；　bringing　his　mouth　to　hers。　There　was　some　confusion　of　bodies　around　and　beneath　her；　but　he　was　too　turned　on　to　pay　much　attention　to　such　details。　He　kissed　the　girl　（wondering；　indeed　half…hoping；　that　Katya　had　paused　in　her　ministrations　to　see　what　he　was　up　to；　wishing　she'd　feel　just　a　little　pang　of　jealousy）；　and　the　girl　returned　his　kiss；　lavishly。
　 Was　there　something　in　her　kiss…some　subtle　tang　to　the　juices　of　her　mouth；　some　coldness　to　her　lips…which　would　have　given　away　the　fact　that　she　was　a　spirit？　Not　that　he　could　tell。　If　anything　she　was　hotter　than　most　women　he'd　been　naked　with；　almost　feverish。　And　despite　the　fact　that　his　eyes　had　for　so　long　failed　to　see　the　ghosts　in　the　Canyon；　she…and　all　of　those　around　him…now　seemed　absolutely　solid。
　 His　dick　had　lost　none　of　its　rigidity　through　this　fumbling　pursuit；　the　fact　that　the　air　was　humid　and　pungent　with　the　heat　given　off　these　spirit…forms　only　aroused　him　more。　Katya　had　prepared　him　well；　with　her　talk　of　shamelessness。　He　wanted　the　girl；　and　she　wanted　him：　what　else　mattered？
　 He　put　the　head　of　his　cock　into　her。　She　lifted　her　legs　a　little；　to　help　him。　There　was　undoubtedly　somebody　else　beneath　her；　but　he　or　she　didn't　seem　to　care　that　he　was　kneeling　on　them。
　 〃All　the　way；〃　she　insisted。
　 He　slid　into　her；　as　she　instructed；　all　the　way　to　the　root；　and　began　to　work　his　hips　against　her。
　 Her　cunt　was　as　agile　as　her　throat；　he　felt　a　counter…rhythm　moving　beneath　his　dick；　passing　through　the　lower　half　of　her　vulva。　The　sensation　was　like　nothing　he'd　ever　experienced　before；　after　just　a　few　strokes　he　was　brought　to　the　edge。　He　slowly　pulled　out　of　her；　to　be　sure　he　didn't　ejaculate　too　quickly。
　 〃You　like　that？〃　she　said；　putting　her　hand　down　between　her　legs；　and　guiding　him　back　in。
　 〃Yes。　I　like　it　a　lot。〃
　 〃Good。〃
　 〃But　go　slowly。　Please。〃
　 He　let　her　take　him　inside　again　and　she　threw　back　her　head；　expelling　a　sigh　of　satisfaction。
　 〃Go　on。〃　she　said；　her　eyes　fluttering　closed。　〃All　the　way。　Both　of　you。〃
　 Both？　he　thought；　raising　his　head　from　her　breast。
　 And　as　he　formed　the　question　he　felt　an　arm；　twice；　three　times　as　thick　as　hers；　and　deeply　muscled；　reach　over　and　grab　his　neck。
　 He　lifted　his　head　as　best　he　could；　and　saw　the　face　of　a　man　over　the　girl's　shoulder。　She　was　apparently　lying　on　him；　her　back　against　his　chest。　He　was　black；　and　handsome；　even　in　the　shadows。
　 〃She's　good；〃　he　said；　smiling。　〃Yeah？〃
　 Tentatively　Todd　reached　down　into　the　moist　muddle　between　their　legs。　He　felt　himself；　hard　as　ever；　and　then；　further　back；　buried　in　the　girl's　ass；　the　other　man's　dick。　So　that　was　what　he　had　been　feeling　as　he　moved　inside　her。　It　wasn't　a　muscular　contraction；　it　was　the　black　man　sliding　in　and　out　of　her。　In　any　other　situation　he　would　have　been　repulsed；　would　have　pulled　out　and　retreated。　But　this　was　the　Canyon；　Katya's　Eden　without　the　serpent。　The　part　of　him　that　would　have　been　revolted　had　been　sweated　out　of　him。　It　only　made　him　harder　thinking　about　the　woman　being　sandwiched　between　him　and　the　other　man；　the　fine　sheath　of　her　muscle　dividing　the　two　of　them。　He　brought　his　hand　up　from　the　swamp　between　their　legs　and　grabbed　hold　of　the　black　man's　wrist；　tightening　the　three…way　knot。
　 The　man　laughed。
　 〃You　like　that？〃　he　said。
　 〃I　like　that。〃
　 〃Good；〃　he　said；　licking　the　girl's　neck；　but　keeping　his　eyes　fixed　hungrily　on　Todd。　〃'Cause　we　like　to　get　real　crazy。〃
　 Todd　had　found　the　rhythm　of　this　now；　and　together　they　played　her　until　she　started　to　scream　with　ecstasy。
　 Somewhere　in　the　midst　of　this；　the　girl　Katya　was　pleasuring　began　to　utter　gut…wrenching　cries。　A　little　time　later　Katya　must　have　had　mercy　on　her；　and　allowed　her　to　be　carried　off；　because　when　Todd　was　next　getting　close　to　ing　（for　the　fifth　or　sixth　time）　he　looked　away　from　the　blissed…out　faces　beneath　him；　and　saw　Katya　sitting　amongst　the　jasmine　and　the　honeysuckle；　with　a　young　man　lying　naked　at　her　feet；　covering　them　with　reverential　kisses。
　 She　was　watching　Todd；　her　expression　inscrutable。　Somebody　lit　a　cigarette　for　her。　Todd　smiled　at　her；　and　then…before　she　could　choose　either　to　return　the　smile　or　ignore　it…he　fell　back　into　the　bliss　of　his　ménage…à…trois；　thinking　that　if　this　was　what　sex　with　the　dead　was　like；　then　the　living　had　a　lot　to　learn。
　
　
　FIVE
　 Tonight　was　one　of　those　nights　when　Marco　had　decided　to　get　drunk。　An　'honourable　occupation'；　as　his　father　had　always　said。　He　didn't　like　to　drink　in　pany；　in　truth；　he　didn't　much　like　pany。　People　in　this　town　were　full　of　bullshit　（his　boss　included；　half　the　time）　and　Marco　didn't　want　to　hear　it。　He'd　e　out　to　Los　Angeles　after　his　career　in　professional　wrestling　had　e　to　a　premature　conclusion；　half…thinking　he　might　have　a　crack　at　acting。　Then　someone　had　suggested　that　personal　security　might　be　a　good　job　for　a　man　like　himself；　since　he　not　only　looked　intimidating；　but　had　the　moves　to　back　up　his　appearance。　So　Marco　had　joined　an　agency；　and　after　working　for　a　succession　of　spoiled…brat　movie…stars　who　treated　him　as　though　he　was　something　they'd　just　found　on　their　shoe；　he　was　ready　to　head　for　home。　Then；　within　days　of　his　planned　departure；　the　job　with　Todd　Pickett　had　e　along。
　 It　turned　out　to　be　a　perfect　match。　He　and　Todd　hit　it　off　from　the　start。　They　had　the　same　taste　in　girls；　cars　and　whisky；　which　was　more　or　less　the　contents　of　Marco's　fantasy　world。
　 Tonight；　he　wanted　a　girl；　and　was　tempted　to　go　out；　hit　the　clubs　on　the　Strip；　see　if　he　got　lucky。　If　not　there　was　always　the　credit　card：　he　had　no　qualms　about　paying　for　sex。　It　certainly　beat　the　five…fingered　widow。
　 But　before　he　went　out　he　always　liked　to　get　mellow　with　a　whisky　or　two：　it　made　him　more　sociable。　Besides；　there　was　something　strange　about　the　house　tonight；　though　he　didn't　know　what。　Earlier　on；　he'd　been　tempted　to　go　out　and　take　a　look　around；　just　to　be　sure　they　didn't　have　any　intruders；　but　by　now　the　whisky　had　got　him　feeling　too　lazy　to　be　bothered。　Fuck　it；　they　should　get　another　dog。　Dempsey　had　been　a　great　early　warning　system。　As　soon　as　anyone　came　anywhere　near　the　house　he'd　go　crazy。　Tomorrow；　Marco　thought　as　he　headed　down　from　his　bedroom　to　get　a　fresh　bottle　of　whisky；　he'd　talk　to　Todd　again　about　buying　a　pup；　using　the　security　angle　to　get　past　Todd's　loyalty　to　Dempsey。
　 He　found　the　whisky；　and　poured　himself　a　glass；　taking　it　neat　in　one　swallow。　Then　he　looked　at　his　watch。　It　was　eleven…twenty。　He'd　better　get　moving。　Los　Angeles　was　an　early　town；　he'd　discovered；　especially　mid…week。　If　he　didn't　hurry　he'd　be　too　late　to　catch　any　of　the　action。
　 He　started　back　upstairs　to　fetch　his　wallet；　but　halfway　up　he　heard　a　noise　at　the　bottom　of　the　stairwell。　It　sounded　like　a　door　opening　and　closing。
　 〃Boss？〃　he　yelled　down。　〃Is　that　you？〃
　 There　was　no　reply。　Just　the　door；　continuing　to　open　and　close；　though　there　was　no　wind　tonight　to　catch　it。
　 〃Huh；〃　he　said　to　himself。　He　went　up；　found　his　wallet；　picked　up　his　whisky　glass　from　the　kitchen　on　the　way　back　down；　and　descended　the　stairs。
　 There　were　plenty　of　places　around　the　house　he　hadn't　explored：　one　of　them　was　the　very　lowest　level　of　the　house；　which　Jerry　had　told　him　were　just　store…rooms。　Nor　had　he　advised　using　them。　They　were　damp　and　anything　put　down　there　would　be　mildewed　in　a　month；　he　said。
　 A　few　steps　from　the　bottom　of　the　stairs；　Marco　emptied　his　glass；　and　set　it　down。　He　was　now　drunk；　he　realized　as　he　stood　upright。　Not　paralytically；　just　nicely；　pleasantly　toasted。　Smiling　a　little　smile　of　self…congratulation　for　having　achieved　this　blissful　state；　he　continued　down。
　 It　was　cold　here；　in　the　bowels　of　the　house。　But　it　wasn't　the　damp　cold　that　Jerry　had　warned　him　about。　This　was　an　almost…bracing　cold：　like　a　late　autumn　night　in　his　home　town　of　Chicago。　He　went　down　the　little　corridor　that　led　from　the　bottom　of　the　stairs；　at　the　end　of　which　was　the　noisy　door　which　had　brought　him　down　here。　What　the　hell　was　making　it　open　and　close　that　way？
　 He　felt　the　answer　on　his　face　the　closer　he　got　to　the　door。　There　was　a　wind　blowing　down　here；　unlikely　as　that　seemed　and　it　smelled　not　of　small；　mildewed　rooms；　but　of　wide　green　spaces。
　 For　the　second　time　in　this　journey；　Marco　said：　〃Huh。〃
　 He　pushed　open　the　door。　There　was　plete　darkness　on　the　other　side；　but　it　was　a　high；　wide　darkness；　his　gut　told　him；　and　the　wind　that　gusted　against　him　came…though　this　was　beyond　reason…across　a　stretch　of　open　land。
　 He　wished　he　hadn't　drunk　the　whiskies　now。　Wished　he　had　his　senses　pletely　under　his　control；　so　that　he　could　assess　this　phenomenon　clearly。
　 He　put　his　hand　around　the　corner　of　the　door；　looking　for　a　light　switch。　There　wasn't　one；　or　at　least　there　wasn't　one　his　fingers　could　find。　Never　mind。　This　would　be　a　mystery　for　tomorrow。　For　now　he'd　just　close　the　door　and　go　back　to　his　drinking。
　 He　reached　in　and　caught　hold　of　the　doorhandle。　As　he　clasped　it　there　was　a　flicker　of　light　in　the　depths　of　the　room。　No；　not　of　light；　of　lightning：　a　fragmentary　flicker　which　was　followed　by　three　much　longer　flashes；　in　such　quick　succession　they　were　almost　a　single　flash。
　 By　it；　he　saw　the　space　from　which　the　wind　came；　and　had　his　instincts　confirmed。　Wide　it　was；　and　high。　The　thunderhead　which　spat　the　lightning　was　miles　away；　across　a　landscape　of　forest　and　rock。
　 〃Oh；　Jesus。〃　Marco　said。
　 He　reached　out　for　the　doorhandle；　caught　hold　of　it；　and　slammed　the　door　closed。　There　was　a　lock；　but　no　key。　Still；　it　seemed　firmly　enough　closed；　at　least　until　he'd　found　Todd；　and　shown　him。
　 He　started　yelling　Todd's　name　as　he　ran　up　the　stairs；　but　there　was　no　reply。　He　went　to　the　master　bedroom；　knocked；　and　entered。　The　room　was　empty；　the　French　doors　to　the　balcony　open；　the　drapes　billowing。
　 He　went　to　the　balcony。　The　wind　that　was　moving　the　drapes　was　a　California　wind：　warm；　fragrant；　gentle。　It　was　not　remotely　like　the　wind　that　had　blown　against　his　face　in　the　room　below。　That　was　a　wind　from　a　different　country。
　 Todd　was　not　on　the　balcony。　But　once　Marco　was　out　there　he　heard　the　sound　of　voices　from　somewhere　in　the　Canyon。　Women's　voices；　mostly；　laughing。　And　lights；　running　between　the　trees。
　 〃Sonofabitch；〃　Marco　said。
　 The　boss　was　apparently　having　a　party；　and　he　hadn't　invited　Marco。
　 The　evening　was　getting　stranger　by　the　minute。　He　went　downstairs；　through　the　kitchen　and　out　to　the　back　door。　Anxiety　had　soured　the　drink　in　his　stomach；　and　as　he　opened　the　back　door　a　wave　of　nausea　suddenly　overcame　him。　He　had　no　time　to　get　outside。　He　puked　on　the　threshold；　the　force　of　the　feeling　enough　to　fold　his　legs　up　beneath　him。
　 He　gazed　weakly　down　at　the　splattered　whisky　and　meatballs　on　the　ground；　his　eyes　vaguely　prehending　the　intricacy　of　five　nails　that　were　driven　into