© Copyright 2010 by silli_artie@hotmail.com
This work may not be reposted or redistributed without the prior express written permission of the author.
A work of fiction, meant for adults. Read something else if you are not an adult, or are offended by stories with sexual content. Then
again, if all you’re looking for is in-out, in-out, in-out, you should probably read something else. I welcome constructive comments. Enjoy.
This is Part 10! You might want to read the earlier parts first!
I’ve decided -- I do not like shape shifters. Oh, your garden-variety Succubus is fine, as are the ... well, if you don’t know about those... With your average Succubus, their shapes change slowly, formed by client desires.
It’s the ones that can take any shape they want, when they want, and are out to get me that I don’t like.
Sounds like I need a vacation, doesn’t it? As in medicated, in a small room?
It’s been an interesting few weeks. Oh, during the day, everything is fine, or at least nominal.
Construction is wrapping up well. We turned on the solar, and even though we’re waiting on the final shipment of PV panels, we’re making more electricity than we use during the day, and had to reduce the solar-assist on the hot water, as it was getting too hot! And it isn’t even summer yet! The house is looking great, even though they tell me they have a lot of finish work left to do.
The clinic is doing well. Oh, the usual -- people bringing in obese housepets and wondering what’s wrong with them. Sara’s family of llamas is expanding -- the two gravid females getting larger by the week, and old Chester is still “gargling” Molly, but he’s shooting blanks.
No, the problem is at night. Nights I find myself on that dream-plane, standing, waiting to be attacked. Always changing, always evolving, always challenging. On one level, I was learning how to move, how to attack and to defend. On another level, I was learning to trust my instincts.
I saw it in the ‘stan -- some guys had it; I had it, the feeling when things were wrong. A pile of crap by the side of the road feels wrong -- hey Lieutenant, have Phil put a few rounds from the 50 cal into that pile of crap up on the right before we get close, and whaddya know, it blows up big time!
Or that bad feeling walking up to a hut...
The worst part was having those feelings and knowing you, or one of your mates, has to go in.
On that dream plane, now at the point where I was walking in crowds, or in a populated area (different from filled with people, if you get my drift), and got that feeling... Who will it be this time?
Waking up shaking, sweating, some times successful, more times waking with my hands holding where I’d paid for my mistakes.
Get up, pee, wash my face, have some Gatorade, crash again and hope I get enough sleep.
Maria could tell when I’d had a rough night. So could the construction crew.
A run of bad nights, getting beaten, betrayed, and watching those around me suffer. “Not sleeping well” at the very least!
Standing in the trailer’s tiny bathroom, getting ready for bed, looking in the mirror -- the face in the mirror reminded me of a long, nasty patrol where we’d been through too damn much of everything.
Back to the fridge I took another swig of fairy-dust laden Gatorade. That was helping hold me together, but still, I was beat up.
I decided. Went and flopped on the bed, rolling to the side. There was a storage pocket attached to the wall. I reached around my .40 Glock, a silver slug chambered and ready to go, and got out the small cloth bag. I sat up in bed and slipped a finger underneath the bracelet on my right wrist to take the damn thing off.
The bracelet tingled, strongly.
“I don’t care,” I told it. “I need the sleep!” I shook my head and sighed -- I’m talking to a fucking piece of jewelry! Yeah, a piece of jewelry given to me by dwarves, a piece of jewelry that could turn into a sword, a whip, an axe, is at least centuries older than me, but still, I’m talking to the thing?
Ah, but that’s not the point -- the point is, is it listening?
“Did you hear me? I need the sleep! Knock it off, or you go into the sack! Got it?”
The tingling stopped.
“That’s better! I’ll take that as agreement! No surprises -- if I have to get up during the night because of you, it’s the sack!”
I could feel it grumbling. “Hey, Joe is my friend, too, but when I feed him chorizo, I kick his furry ass out the door. I need the sleep -- live with it.” I left the sack hanging half out of the storage pocket, turned out the light, and flopped back.
The damn thing let me sleep! I woke up rested and feeling near human again. Maria noticed, even Marty noticed. I had a better day, and got another good night’s sleep.
Friday morning and I’m feeling great! Two good nights of sleep!
Walking the job site with Marty, all the solar panels were up, and a crew was finishing the wood cladding around the steel supports; more than decorative -- during the summer that steel would get hot!
He mentioned the place would be pretty much ready to move into in another week; they still had finish trim to do, but the major stuff was done.
Hmmm... Full moon coming up Sunday week... I told him Carol would be coming out next Friday to spend the weekend, going back late Monday, so if the bedrooms and the kitchen were ready to go, that would be great. But if not, we had the trailer, and it worked fine.
He smiled and told me he’d let me know if they could do it.
Not a problem, I told him -- the trailer works.
We had a good day in the clinic -- busy, with happy, healthy animals, and the people weren’t too bad, either.
Walking through the new place with Marty after dinner. Wood floors looked great, and Marty said they were going to get a finish coat Monday. Laundry area was good. Kitchen was very pretty. I liked the resized and moved windows. All the windows, even the ones in the clinic, were super efficient. Still needed toe kicks and trim. More room for the table and chairs, even with more cabinets added. Nice pantry, built in fridge/freezer. The bedroom suites were very nice, each bigger than the larger one had been before, each with a real closet, and a real bathroom! Looking around the big room... Hmmm -- the TV looked bigger, and it was mounted into the wall. Speaker things in the ceiling, too, and a bundle of wires poking out of a sort of closet in one wall.
New front door, too. The outside looked like it had been there a long time -- nice. And they’d left the benches on the porch.
I took a seat, leaning back. One of my favorite places to sit, watching the desert go from day to night. Porch swing, something like that would be good. But for now, a bench worked fine.
Had a glass in my hand, ice and tequila, my latest experiment. Took a bottle of good tequila someone had given me and adulterated it with mucho fairy dust. Nice to sip, slowly.
Watching the day shift leave and the night shift arrive across the desert floor. Winged hunters circling, looking for tasty morsels. Too early for the coyotes to be singing (or for Joe to be singing, for that matter). In another few months, you’d be able to see the desert floor sigh as the daytime heat left. Someone yipping; a prairie dog. Guess Joe missed a few... Don’t know what he has against them.
Dark, my glass empty, the wind shifting to the usual night pattern. Beautiful night sky!
But it’s Friday, I’m tired, and I don’t have to get up early in the morning! Pushed myself up and turned toward the door.
She was standing in the doorway, illuminated by a night light from the kitchen.
I felt at my right wrist, and sensed ... amusement.
My succubus friend, voluptuous in a simple robe, smiled and said, “I’m told you need comforting...”
“Yes,” I agreed, stepping closer, taking her in with all my senses.
She took me back to what had been my bedroom -- and there was a bed in it! Soon we were in that bed, and oh she was comforting, making love gently yet intensely, holding me afterwards, rocking me to sleep in her arms to the beating of her heart.
Standing on that dream plane again, relaxed. Guess I’d rested enough...
A dwarf before me, an old dwarf, wearing quite the outfit, tooled leather?
I felt for my guardian around my right wrist -- not there! As I took a breath, I understood. I bowed to him, as I’d seen the dwarf bow to Mistress Tana. “Thank you,” I told him.
He smiled and returned the bow. “Sit, please -- let us talk.”
We sat cross-legged on that featureless plane.
After a bit, he told me, “We must continue -- you have so much to learn.”
I nodded. “I understand. But does it always have to be the same? Are there other things we could mix in? Switch among different subjects, different arts?”
He sat, nodding slowly, contemplating. “Ja, ja...”
After some contemplation, he looked to me again, smiling. “Ja, we could... And after, much more you could study on your own.”
I’ll never learn... “Well?” I asked after another period of silence.
He nodded and started to stand. “No, remain seated please,” he told me. “Relax -- all the work I will do. In my eyes look; let it happen,” he said, reaching out to hold my head.
Just like with Bin, I thought, taking a breath, letting it out, and letting go.
Bastard -- he rammed it into me, pounded it into me. I couldn’t pull away, even though it hurt so much. It felt like my head was going to explode, my teeth were on fire, and it went on and on and on...
Until it stopped, and I woke up in bed, my head throbbing, on the verge of throwing up.
I made it to the bathroom, and luckily the toilet lid was up as I cut loose with the first round.
My succubus friend was behind me, pulling my hair back, holding me.
I cursed him -- wishing for his toenails to turn black and fall off. Then his fingernails. Improvising, I added his dick, and then his balls should wither and fall off, one at a time, his voice getting so high that only dogs could hear him, and even they wouldn’t listen. I cursed him in between rounds of presenting my last few meals to the porcelain God.
And only then I wondered if the damn toilet was hooked up... I leaned on the flush lever, and it flushed. Guess it’s hooked up!
Leaning over the can, panting, cursing... She held me. “Water?” I asked.
One hand holding my hair back, she reached to the sink. It turned on! She handed me the glass I’d had earlier, now full of water. I rinsed my mouth a couple of times, then swallowed some.
More water, more rinsing, more swallowing, more cursing.
“With them, too?” she asked.
That’s when I realized -- I had been cursing him in the dwarf’s tongue! Damn! He’d given me their language, in one shot. I put my head down on my hands, laughing a little. I liked Bin’s way better...
I felt the presence on my right wrist again. I opened my eyes, and in his tongue, thanked him.
I rinsed and swallowed again. “Please hold me,” I managed to whisper. I felt cold and shaky.
We went back to bed. I went back to her arms. She comforted me and rocked me back to sleep.
I woke on the floor, with my pillow and the comforter from the trailer. My watch and clothes were on the floor nearby. Almost eight -- I slept in! “Damn!” I said to nobody in particular. Checked the bathroom and made more traditional use of the toilet. Yeah, the room needed some trim still, and the shower didn’t have a shower head installed, but the rest looked functional, at least to me.
Got dressed and headed back to the trailer. Fixed myself a breakfast burrito with scrambled eggs, bacon, cheese, onion, salsa. Cleaned up the trailer some, got my laundry, and loaded it into the old washer, which was nicely set up in an enclosure off the back porch.
“Oh damn!” I said out loud. Something I’d missed, a minor detail... I looked in the bathroom -- yeah, it had towel bars, and a holder for the toilet paper.
Standing in the bedroom, I pulled out my cell phone and gave Cindy a call -- voicemail. “Cindy, this is Doctor Bob -- I’ve got some questions if you have the time. Please give me a call. Thanks!”
She called, bless her, about ten minutes later.
“Cindy, what do I do about furniture? I mean basic stuff for the bedrooms -- beds, nightstands, that kind of stuff. Can you help?”
She laughed. “You don’t remember? We went over it with Carol! The bedding gets delivered Wednesday, and the nightstands and other cabinets are custom. Would you like to meet me later this morning to see them? They’re being done by Wes and John -- they did the rest of the cabinets and prep work on the old siding. You should come by!”
Okay, I had errands to run anyway -- I could drop by the gunsmith and pick up my silver deer slugs for the shotgun. Didn’t mention that to Cindy, but I agreed to meet her in about an hour and a half. She gave me the address.
Hank, the gunsmith I work with, is a local character. He showed me the pictures he wanted to put on his website. Miguel, his apprentice, had decorated my slugs after casting them. One had a very nice cross on it. One had the lines you’d see in a scope sight. Another cross, and another with the outline of a hand, middle finger extended. Engraved around the side of at least one slug was a very nice script, “Vaya con Dios.” “I like it,” I told him.
“What is it about you and silver, Doc?” Hank asked; he’d done a lot of silver ammo for me.
I shook my head. “Some things you just want to be sure they stay dead, Hank.”
He shook his head. “These should do it...”
“Yep, and please thank Miguel for me -- I appreciate the sentiment.”
Pulling up to the woodworking shop, I recognized the name, and one of the trucks -- they’d picked up the old lumber and the salvaged boards, reworking them for cabinets, floors, and siding. Got out of my truck and walked up to their gate.
I was greeted by a mixed-breed hunting dog on the other side of the chain link; he barked and bayed at me, but his tail was going.
“Hello, beast!” I greeted him. He looked to be in fine shape.
“Dawg!” hollered a voice from the shop.
The beast grumbled and backed up a few steps, not taking his eyes off me, his tail still going.
“Hey Doc! Cindy’s not here yet -- come on in,” John told me, coming out of the shop. He was the son; Wes, his dad, had taken over the business from his dad. They’ve been in the area for a while.
John let me in. I shook his hand, and with my other hand greeted the dog. The three of us walked back through the office into the shop, where Wes was.
I congratulated Wes and John on the great job they’d done refinishing the old lumber, and how good it looked. Wes was glad I’d saved it; it was great to work with, and very hard to find.
They showed me the stuff for the bedrooms; each bedroom got a pair of nightstands and a short chest with a mirror on it, as well as a matching headboard for the bed.. There were more shelves and drawers built into each closet.
“Guys, I’m a country vet. These look so clean, so simple, that there’s got to be a whole lot more to it. Giving me something like this is like giving him prime rib,” I pointed to the dog, who was leaning up against Wes.
They laughed, and admitted that they thought the stuff was damn fine, and they were going to have pictures taken before things got too lived in...
I was talking to John about one of the nightstands when the dog took off barking to the front gate. Cindy had arrived; Wes let her in.
Cindy heaped praise on them. She had a better vocabulary for it; I don’t know about “beautiful,” but they were quite nice.
We walked over to the finishing shed where they were working on some other pieces. Very pretty! The bedroom stuff would be delivered Wednesday.
I stopped by Chavez Market and picked up food for the week, then headed back.
Pulling off the hard road up to the gate, I had a feeling... I parked the Jeep and got out, walking up. I felt something, and the friend on my wrist oh so quickly became a sword that I slashed through something like a skein or web, appearing as I cut through it and vanishing with a flash. Then something that looked like a javie came at me from the left, but when I sliced through it, the pieces fell to the ground and sort of evaporated as smoky grey goo. Any more?
I didn’t sense anything; neither did my friend, who changed back to a bracelet. As I got back in the Jeep I told it, “Thank you for teaching me.” I felt satisfaction. Guess I’d learned something.
But that didn’t mean I had to like it... But who do I gripe to? Picked up my cell phone -- I had a phone number for Moira; did it work?
It rang when I called it. And after a few rings, she answered!
“Good morning!” she greeted me in her tongue.
I explained that I’d been greeted at the edge of the property when I’d returned. I started to explain what had happened, but she stopped me and said she’d send someone out right away -- and that I’d done the right thing.
A few minutes later, I’m wearing my 40 with a full magazine of silver, there’s a knock on the trailer door.
Two dwarves, Albert and Klaus! I greeted them in their own tongue as I invited them into the trailer, quickly closing the door behind them.
Master Albert gave me quite the look. We sat and spoke of what had transpired. When he asked what I had cut, the friend at my wrist provided me more answers, which I gave the dwarves.
I was concerned about having them go outside in the middle of the day, but there were some things that needed to be done now; they went to do them.
Bob called; he wanted to drop by with a couple of guys to install and check out some gear.
I told them to come on over, only having second thoughts when I hung up the phone.
No problems, except that the subcontractor’s dog wouldn’t come out of his van. Sat in the back shivering. Smart beast! I called to Joe, but didn’t get a reply.
The little closet with the wires hanging out of it got populated with gear. I now had a weather station, with gear on the roof, recording wind, temperature, humidity, rain (what’s that?), the works. And, Bob explained to me, it sent that data to a website he maintained. TV, satellite, internet, all hooked up and going. He even left me a set of laminated cards explaining how to do things.
They took off after about two hours; I think the dog was happy to be leaving.
I headed to the trailer to get some cold Gatorade. Joe was on his stool.
“Hey, where you been?” I asked him, going to the fridge.
“Is it happening, again?” he asked, sounding agitated.
“What, Joe?”
He shook a bit. “Those things give me the creeps!”
“What things?” I asked.
“Ask them,” he said, cocking his head outside.
I got my hat and went out, deciding to walk the fence line.
I was thirsty, yet I wanted my hands free. I carried the bottle in my left, my right free to grab the Glock or to swing my friend. I clipped the bottle to my belt and kept walking.
The dwarves had been here; the area had the feel of fresh magic, that’s the best way to put it.
And I met up with the dwarves near my shooting range.
“This is good,” Master Albert, said. “You should meet them.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Whistle, loud please,” he requested.
That I could do. Fingers to my mouth, I let loose a good one.
And around me, up out of the scrub, out of the ground, came half a dozen... I wasn’t sure what they were, but I felt they were friendly -- to me at least. Not only friendly, but protective and damned territorial! I could feel them -- and more around the area, and each one had that same protective, territorial feel to it; protective, territorial, and itching for a fight.
“Welcome,” I told them in the dwarves’ tongue. “I wish you good hunting.”
One of them close to me hissed and stamped its front feet -- wait, it only had front feet!
Master Albert smiled and explained. These were from Northern Africa, a climate like mine, Moroccan relatives of the Alpine Tatzelwurm. These were around forty centimeters long, with only two legs, reptilian with catlike faces, short spines along the back. Very proud, very nasty!
I bent down to take a look at one. Scales, catlike eyes, and it stamped its feet (sharp looking claws), opened its mouth wide (lots of sharp teeth -- venomous like a Gila?), and gave a surprisingly loud, shrill ululating cry, which was immediately picked up by its friends in the area.
“What will they do to the men and animals working here, and to the people and animals coming for medical help?” I asked.
Albert nodded and smiled more. “Those they will not harm -- they will not be seen. They will be seen only by us, and by those who will very quickly wish they had not seen them.”
“Joe is safe?” I asked specifically.
He nodded. “El Brujo they will protect as well. We have strengthened the wards. It was a very clumsy attempt made earlier that you found. We have informed ... others and they are discussing the issue to insure it does not happen again.”
I bent down to look at my new guests again. Yes, these were magical creatures. The friend on my wrist was pleased that they were here.
Master Albert told me, “Already they like this area -- I have told them to leave El Brujo’s cousins alone, and hunt prairie dogs and other small animals.”
I looked to the one in front of me. “That should make Joe happier.”
Another ran up from the side and up my leg! It stopped on my bent knee, looking out at the world, opened its mouth, and told the world to watch out! Its friends answered!
I held my left hand in front of it, cautiously. It scrambled to my hand, its tail wrapping around my forearm loosely. I brought it up to my face for a better look. Glad I was wearing sunglasses; didn’t know if they spit or not. Dentition and jaws looked more like a Gila, a chewer, than a snake, a fanger.
“You are a very handsome beast,” I told it quietly. It opened its mouth more, moving its head side to side and hissing with pride and attitude. Sparkly eyes. Again, the feeling that it was a magical creature. Arboreal adaptation on the feet and claws -- definitely a climber, and the claws looked strong enough to do damage.
Slowly and deliberately it lowered its mouth to my index finger, closing its teeth on a fold of skin, tugging a bit, then releasing. It looked at me again, then jumped down and scooted off.
The dwarves had taken off as well. I stood up, took a drink from my bottle, and continued walking the fence.
Having met them, I could reach out and feel them. Already, they liked it here.
Walking by the front gate, there were quite a few in that area. I couldn’t see them, but I knew they were there.
I sat on the porch, putting my feet up. I was smiling -- I felt better!
Joe hopped up and joined me on the bench.
“Good news, Joe -- they’ve been told it’s open season on prairie dawg.”
“That should help,” he agreed.
“Hey, you still need to watch my back -- they’re not very good at conversation.”
“Gracias, hijo,” he said, and hopped off and into the brush.
We had dinner around dusk; enchiladas with green sauce, fruit salad, and cold beer. I was joined by Albert and Klaus. They liked the enchiladas, and the beer. They had strengthened the protection around my abode. The clinic presented challenges to them, since it must be open to others. The protection around the house, the trailer, and especially the barn were now stronger. They had done an interesting kind of gate along the road leading to the main road.
I thanked them for their hard work and their care.
We had one more thing to do -- and in the old barn we must do it!
Okay -- we cleaned up the dinner dishes and walked to the old barn.
Inside, Klaus took out a parchment and started drawing on the floor.
This time I knew better! I backed off, and when Albert looked at me (a nasty look), I plugged my ears!
Loud, and bright! The report shook my chest, and sprinkled down dust from the rafters above us.
Remaining at the spot was a leather-bound book, perhaps three inches thick and a foot or more on a side. Looked old.
“For you to study,” Albert told me.
I picked it up and opened it. Dense, hand-written pages.
I thanked them. Albert said they would leave me to my work.
I went to my office and sat at the desk, opening the book once more.
The text -- it glowed as I read it. And as I read it, I changed. I learned and I changed. When reading such a book, once you’ve started, you do not stop until you get to the end of a lesson.
That first one took me two and a half hours. When I finished, I closed the book and put my head down on the desk. I was sweating. My eyes burned, and my mind burned.
I felt her arrive. I felt her before she arrived, my senses expanded from what I’d read, feeling her open the way into the larger space. And from that, I also sensed that my office was protected.
I lifted my head as Mistress Tana walked in. I stood and greeted her formally, with new respect.
She bowed and smiled. She sat in the chair in front of the desk; when I sat down, my legs wobbled.
We discussed the day’s events. I could speak about them with more understanding now. At least I was starting to know how little I knew! I did have a better feeling for the limits and the balance among the different players. I had a better feeling for my own strengths and weaknesses. She gave me a phone number so I could reach her -- seems like everyone but me has an iPhone...
All in all, I felt safer. Then I started laughing.
“What is it?” asked Mistress Tana.
“A lesson I should have learned many years ago,” I told her, shaking my head. “That others may not be evaluating the game using the same values, the same rules, as you -- they may not even be playing the same game.”
Tana nodded. “Very true.”
I felt ... a query, from the Portal. Without moving I opened it, allowing Moira and Bin to join us.
When they entered the office, I rose and hugged both of them. Bin felt and smelled delicious; I knew she was pregnant.
The Yeti sat on the futon; I pulled up another guest chair. I missed the little table Elna had destroyed. That got me to chuckling.
In response to Moira’s question, I explained. “Tana and I were just talking -- about the fundamental mistake of assuming someone else is playing the same game, let alone using the same rules and values as you are. For example -- now that Bin is pregnant, yes, I can tell, I’m quite comfortable, as are you, Mother, in asking who is next. Yet if I was to ask Elna the same question, make the same offer -- if I understand, that would be an incredible threat to her, and to Fanise! To have another male Yeti, outside of their family? Let alone one with the probability of such ... talent? You are looking for diversity, for strength, where they would seem to be trying so hard to maintain control, to maintain their edge. If my analysis is correct, which is another discussion on its own...”
All agreed my analysis was most likely correct. We kicked that around for a while.
So who did we have to thank for the afternoon’s diversion at the gate? Fanise, Elna, and company? A different Yeti faction? I looked to Moira and then up at the ceiling as I posed that one. Family, friends, colleagues of the demons we’d bumped off? Or someone random, just checking to see how good the new kid on the block was?
Tana seemed to think it was the latter. Moira agreed; at least that it didn’t involve Yeti. Tana added that she’d informed Sophira earlier, and Sophira had gone to have a chat with some others... Shortly after she’d returned, they started hearing from other groups, including ones she had not contacted, giving assurances they had not been involved! Many were all for leaving us alone!
“And how many know about my friend?” I asked, holding up my right wrist.
Not that many, was the guess. Moira and Bin both were of the opinion that Fanise didn’t know -- Elna wouldn’t tell her. They had kept it quiet. Tana thought that only a few of them knew. A few of the dwarves, no telling how many.
Tana laughed, her head going back. When Moira asked, Tana explained she’d almost committed just the sin we’d discussed -- evaluating the behaviour of others in our terms. There are very few who would challenge the Legend on my wrist, but far more who would be willing to try and steal it from me.
What has to happen, I asked, for that to occur?
First and foremost, Tana told me, I had to voluntarily remove it. She didn’t know of any other way.
“But that doesn’t mean there aren’t any,” I suggested, ever the optimist.
With that, Moira stood up. So did Tana, and finally Bin, who was smiling quite a bit more.
I hugged Tana. “Thank you, Mistress, and please thank Mistress Sophira as well.”
Moira held me close. “I want to curl up with you, be held and protected,” I whispered to her, burying my head in her soft fur.
She chuckled and rocked me. “Eventually,” she whispered.
“That leaves you,” I looked to Bin, taking her hand.
She nodded. “I thought I would stay, until morning?”
“Please,” I whispered. Then stronger, “I’ll go open the portal in the trailer for you.”
She nodded, almost a bow. “Thank you.”
Tana had vanished already. I secured the book, putting it in the desk and sealing it with a spell, and walked with Moira and Bin back to the Portal. With another hug, we saw Moira off.
I hugged Bin and walked back to the trailer. It was going to be a good night -- I could hear Joe singing in the distance.
In the trailer, I opened the small Portal for Bin.
Silly me -- I should have undressed first! But the small size of the trailer came to my aid -- I pushed her back to the bed, and as she fell on it laughing, I hopped back into the tiny bathroom, closing the door. I managed to get undressed (dropping my clothes in the shower) and use the toilet. I moved the bracelet to around my left ankle, less likely to get tangled there. Then it was into bed, into Bin.
She’d opened the top vent and some of the windows; a comfortable temperature for me was too warm for her. That meant she had to keep me warm, which worked out well for both of us! On top of her, trying to bury myself in her, thrusting as she held me to a nipple, pulling me into her, shaking in ecstasy under me, pulling me closer and sending me over he edge, filling her and barely able to hold on.
She rolled atop me to keep me warm. Holding me, filling me, serenading me with the music of her beating heart, filling me from her breasts.
I woke once in the dark to her stuffing a cushion underneath me, all the better to ride me with. Holding on, making it last as long as I could, filling her and drifting off again, still surrounded by her.
Waking again, but on that featureless plain, sword at the ready with Bin unconscious behind me. Swinging, defending us, defending her, against the things that attacked -- things like the devil javie we’d sent back a long time ago. But they kept coming, and I saw a swarm of them approaching... I couldn’t defend us against all those! Standing over her, realizing that, screaming...
But what I could do -- the tip of the sword against the ground, I turned, drawing a line of fire as I spoke, drawing and casting as I circled once, twice, thrice! Then closer to us, repeating, circling once, twice, thrice!
The first of the swarm closed on us -- the first two hit the outer circles, and deflected, aflame! Wherever they touched the outer circles, a wall of flame flared, and they fell back in flames. As the swarm increased, flaming demons ran into their own, spreading the flames among them! The flames consumed them, leaving nothing.
A group pulled back, and I saw a huge monster charging directly at me, its red glowing eyes almost level with mine! I stood in front of Bin, taking a breath, holding my sword. The monster lowered its head, screaming as it charged. At the last moment, I lowered my sword and did something, extending it out past the outer circles, extending it into a flaming lance.
The beast impaled itself on my lance. I stood my ground, pushing and twisting, its cries changing. I pulled up and twisted the blade, using both hands, the flaming, searing tip of my lance slicing through its head and coming out by one ear. I raised the blade and brought it down with as much force as I could, feeling it hit, turning my wrists to dig it in deeper, then pulling back and thrusting forwards, moving from my hips, putting my whole body into it.
Waking up in her arms again, holding her, burying my head between her breasts and filling myself with her scent, trying to be here, not there. She held me, rocking gently, taking us both to passion and once again to sleep.
Half awake in the early morning, making love again, such strong feelings, such intensity, yet so free-flowing at the same time. So good, so intense, her riding me as she held me to her. A fleeting glimpse -- I know, I understand -- conditioning me, overwhelming me with pleasure, training me to need them all the more. But I’m long past that -- how could I need them more than I do already?
Leaving thoughts behind, letting our bodies do what’s needed, collapsing together afterwards.
But afterwards, still wrapped up in her, Bin explained it to me. A quirk? A curse? Just the way Yeti are put together? Once they become pregnant, once they are aware they are pregnant, they have to have sex with the father, again, within a period of a few weeks. Simple -- have to. Because if they don’t, they’ll miscarry. They’ll lose the baby.
But... I tried to pull away from her nipple to ask a question, but she held me where I was, pulling me closer. “Shhh -- later,” she whispered, holding me close, rocking me, rocking more on top of me, filling me more with her milk, filling me more with fire, squeezing me and rocking me until I filled her once more and we drifted off together.
Eventually we got up. I made sure the drapes were closed and fixed us breakfast. Bin liked cold Gatorade as well.
Doing eggs and bacon on the stove, I turned to her. She smiled, filling me with warmth.
“I don’t understand -- all you had to do with Elna then, was keep us apart for a few weeks?”
The pained look that filled her face -- “We couldn’t do that!” she cried. “That is the one thing we could not do!”
Shaking her head, sighing, then making a chortling snort, still shaking her head. “But as you said, playing a different game, using different rules -- they didn’t understand that! It’s something they can do! To their own, to family! Elna thought we would!” She shook her head again. “We didn’t understand -- that was something we could not do, or even contemplate! So much so that we had a hard time understanding what she was going through. It wasn’t until she started confessing so much to Moira that we understood -- we understood what she thought was happening, and was going to happen! That we were going to keep her away from you! And even after we told her, we promised that we would bring you together again...” She sighed. “That’s why we brought her here on short notice. She was getting so frantic. She was so certain we would keep you apart until we had extracted, I don’t know what, from her...”
I nodded. “That’s why she responded so strongly to my friend,” I shook my right wrist. Wait, when had I moved it back to my wrist?
Bin smiled broadly, nodding. “Yes -- to suddenly see proof that you are an adept, and then the way you spoke to her! You turned her world around!”
Looking at the bracelet on my wrist as I turned -- a ray of sunlight through a window striking it, flashing in my eyes momentarily. I saw -- more than saw, I was there -- sitting in a great hall, Val on one side of me, Elna on the other, knowing Moira, Val, and Bin were nearby, looking out at so many, then standing up to...
I picked up the spatula and turned the eggs. Breakfast was about ready.
“What was Elna’s end-game? How would she see this resolved?” I asked. “Do we know with any certainty?”
Bin sighed. “As head of a dynasty, ruling over all?”
Hmpf... “Somehow I can’t quite see her ringing the closing bell on the New York Stock Exchange...”
“What does that mean?” Bin asked.
I smiled. “Indeed -- what does it mean to the world out there?” I pointed outside with the spatula.
“Not a lot,” she admitted with a nod.
“Not related at all,” I suggested. “So that’s where the solution must come from...”
“What?” she asked again.
“Breakfast -- then back to the old barn.”
We had breakfast. I cleaned up the dishes, with Bin drying.
Standing there, turning and brushing against her soft fur, moving closer and sinking into her soft, dense fur, her arms going around me, supporting me...
“I don’t know what I like more,” I whispered, looking into her eyes.”
“Tell me,” she whispered back.
“Sitting up, sliding into you, with someone sitting behind me, pulling me in...”
Our foreheads were touching.
“Or being on my back on top of someone with you on top of me...”
I was hard, pressing into her. I could feel her nipples pressing into me.
“Or being on my back with a cushion under me, you riding me, looking into your eyes and being so lost, so lost in you, until you smother me to a breast again...”
She went through the Portal; I dressed quickly and walked to the old barn, to the bed. I learned about her favorites as well.
I bid her farewell at the Portal. I visited the loo, got a bottle of fortified Gatorade, and went to my office.
I collected The Book and went back to the trailer to read. Three hours for the next section.
Three hours, then to the shower to wash off the sweat, to stand under the water, eyes closed, while the world shook around me.
Nah, the world was the same when I got out of the shower.
Early afternoon -- I dressed and put on my hat, walking the property.
Patrol awareness -- being attentive to anything, everything, and more. I could feel my Moroccan friends. I could feel their pride, the simple joy of basking in the sun, and the eagerness for someone or something to pick a fight with them...
Sitting on the porch later, smelling the late spring air, listening to the wind, the occasional vehicle out on the road.
“What’s new, Joe?” I asked when he hopped up on to the porch.
“Sus amigos -- nobody going to bother us!” he replied.
I laughed. “Not more than once,” I agreed.
“Could they take out the two we dealt with?” I nodded to the parking area where we’d taken on the pseudo-Judy and her pseudo-cat.
Joe scratched with a back paw. “The small one, si -- the big one? Probalemente. Not sure I want to watch. They call El Viejo, si, easy.”
“I think I’ll sleep better,” I mused.
“Quieter?” Joe needled.
“You’ve been singing pretty well recently, mi tio...”
Joe made a rude noise and hopped off into the brush.
Carol coming out this Friday -- seven weeks since I started the remodeling - rebuilding madness. Open Clinic Sunday night. Two weeks later, she’s done for the year and moves here for the summer.
“What the hell am I getting into?” I asked. “What the hell am I getting her into?”
When I didn’t get any answers, I gave a loud whistle. Three of my new friends appeared from out of the scrub and scrambled on to the porch. They can move damn fast when they want! One scrambled up onto the porch railing, the other two onto the bench with me, one continuing up onto the back rail of the bench.
The one on the railing looked out at the world, opened its mouth, and gave a, “Bring it on!” cry. Its mates joined in, and then more out in the brush.
“Damn, I like your attitude,” I told them, smiling.
I had a simple dinner, read one more section of The Book, showered again, and collapsed in bed.
On that plain again, but this time it was Carol I was protecting! I started to cry out, but I knew -- whether I liked it or not, she was involved. Anyone connected with me, or even nearby was involved.
My first move -- protect her. I turned my friend into a whip and circled it under her, picking her up so she was floating a meter or so off of the surface. Going around her unconscious form once, twice, thrice -- she would be safe, for the time being. Then myself, like skipping rope, jumping up and whipping it around me thrice.
Damn, they were out there -- malevolently glowing eyes, so many in the featureless gray. Some moving sideways, some moving closer. A group approached, and I cast fire, hellfire, which scattered the survivors.
A larger one approached, opening its demon mouth and screaming, launching something at me, an attack. I deflected it with a wave of my right hand. A group advanced on my right; I cast fire at another group on the left. Damn, too many!
I raised Carol above my head, stepping under her and swinging about, casting fire with my sword. That caused confusion, as flaming demons ran into other groups of demons, setting them afire and spreading the fun.
Idea! Raising my right hand, I cast out among them, confusion. A group of smaller ones attacked the big one, who roared and turned on his smaller cousins. I cast again, to the smaller ones, defend! More of the smaller ones attacked the big one, who eventually ran off!
Another big one approaching -- flickering between dark gray and the tan - gray-white of the desert? I felt a difference -- it wasn’t approaching on its own, it was being driven, being ridden?
A noise -- a shrill cry -- that was the answer! Fingers to my lips, I let out a loud whistle! Again!
They appeared from out of the ground, glowing and each adding its own shrill cry as my friends joined in the melee.
But what could they do to a beast so much larger? They could pile on, attaching themselves to any flap of hide, anyplace their jaws could get a purchase, their claws digging in. Soon the beast’s head was covered with them, and its flanks. As it spun around howling, there had to be half a dozen attached to its testicles! That had to hurt! And they didn’t just latch on -- they latched on and thrashed, their claws digging and tearing as well. Their shrill cries got louder and louder...
I woke in bed, hearing their shrill cries outside. I got up, pulling on pants and boots, grabbing a shirt and the 12-gauge, cycling out the birdshot round leaving a silver slug in the chamber. But as I headed for the door, the friend on my right wrist told me I didn’t need to go out -- all was under control. Four twenty five in the morning. After a few minutes of quiet outside, I stripped, took a leak, refilled with Gatorade, and crashed again.
I was up early, out sitting on the porch by six thirty.
As I sat on the bench, one of my guardians appeared and climbed on to the railing in front of me.
“You guys have fun earlier?” I asked it.
“Si, they did good,” Joe told me as he hopped on to the bench.
I interpreted the sound my guardian and his buddies in the scrub made as, “We kicked ass!”
“What happened -- que paso?” I asked Joe.
“Someone took a coyote and tried to ride it in, alla,” he motioned with his head, which only had nubs showing. “By the wash. Sus amigos, they had a party.”
Interesting... “I had a dream -- a beast coming in, being driven or ridden by something else.”
“Si, eso lo es.”
“I just hope they leave the crews alone and stay out of sight,” I hoped out loud.
Folks started showing a little before seven. I walked the site with Marty. Anything I wanted from inside the house, get it now, because they turn the place over to the flooring guys at nine, and anybody that goes in after that gets whipped!
I told him I was good, that Bob and crew had been out and done their magic.
Marty was happy with how things were going. They were working trim until they got thrown out, and then again when they could Tuesday afternoon. Furniture delivery Wednesday, supervised by Cindy, with the photographer showing up Thursday.
Photographer?
Marty smiled and said Cindy was convinced what they’d done was way too good for the likes of me.
I laughed and clapped him on the back, agreeing. Hope it’s good enough for Carol! That gave me an idea, though. I told him I’d see him later and went back to the trailer. Wrote myself a note to have Carol bring her camera when she came out.
Seven fifteen -- let’s check out our late visitor. Got my hat, a clip-on bottle of Gatorade, and the Glock loaded with silver.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, but when I came on it... “I am very impressed!” I said. Just on the other side of my rusty barbed-wire fence I saw not a dead coyote as I’d expected, but the damn clean skeleton of a coyote! I walked up to the fence and leaned on the post, looking at it. I gave a low whistle. Four thirty to seven thirty? Three hours and they picked it that clean? “Good job, guys!”
On cue, a bunch appeared from the brush and let me know how good they thought they were!
“You eat the fur, too?” I asked, looking around for a stick. Found one long enough and gave the bones a poke. Yeah, still some connective tissue left holding things together. “Missed a spot,” I said, noticing what looked to be some spinal tissue that had been blocked by the beast’s prior position.
But a few of them saw it and jumped to the spot.
“Share now,” I told them. Teeth, claws -- they did a very thorough job!
“Good job, guys! I appreciate it!” I thanked them.
More shrill cries... Next!
I walked back to the trailer with a big smile.
Nominal day in the clinic -- one of the locals, Jay, brought in his African Gray parrot. He’s had the bird for around twenty years, and understands that the two of them are mates. The old lady was looking worse for wear though. Mites -- I sprinkled her with fairy dust, and gave her a good dose orally. Gave him a little dropper vial so he could add some to her water for the next week. Explained to Jay that’s why he had the occasional itches as well -- he had a lot of housecleaning to do! We talked, and the bird talked with us. I told her to take good care of Jay. She made a loud rattling noise and told me, “Piss off, boy!” Jay and I laughed -- what a great bird.
Tuesday was house calls, with a checkup on those damn goats in the afternoon. But the hands had rounded them up, so we did a sample, ten goats, and they were all clean. I told them to let the rest out of the pen slowly, and if they saw any problems, cut that one out and give me a call.
Driving home along a county road -- a traffic jam out there is seeing another vehicle.
Suddenly I had the strong feeling -- Wrong -- and I stood on the brakes! I sent out an alarm shout. My right wrist was tingling. I did the quick circling thing in my head to protect myself, and things turned hazy outside? I turned on the emergency flashers, and started getting out of the Jeep. My friend and mentor on my wrist thought that was a good idea.
I almost fell as I got out! Like it was farther to the ground or something? I extended the bracelet into a whip and did the jump rope thing, circling protection around myself.
“My oh my,” I muttered. The front wheels of the jeep were about a foot off the ground, the back wheels up maybe half a foot? But the tires looked like they were carrying load, like the whole thing was on an invisible fucking ramp...
I walked to the front, still in my protective bubble. Looking ahead, the road was hazy somehow.
Instinct, training -- call it what you will -- I shot out my right hand, turning the bracelet to a lance as I shot it out to my right.
Looking to my right, I’d speared a ... if you don’t know about them, you probably sleep well at night. But as I looked, I gave my wrist a twist, and it changed. I smiled grimly. That wasn’t its native shape -- it’s native shape was no-shape, another damn shape shifter, and up to no damn good.
Suddenly it started twisting more. And I understood -- it was trying to kill itself, because someone was coming! I could feel it, too!
A wraith appeared hovering over my speared demon. I recognized it -- Tana.
The demon let out a cry as Tana enveloped it.
I peeked. No, I did more than peek, and Tana helped. Incubus, shape shifter. I took parts of it in, with Tana’s help. I took in its Name, the tricks it used, attacks and defenses, so much. Tana and I ate it. I withdrew, and observed as Tana finished the job.
The Jeep dropped to the road with a thud.
I wore a bracelet again. I touched it and gave it my thanks.
Tana stepped closer, now wearing a form more familiar to me.
“Mistress, thank you for appearing so quickly,” I thanked her.
She smiled. “You are learning,” she told me.
I sighed. “Unfortunately -- how do we protect Carol?”
Her smile disappeared. “I will see to it. She is important to the future of many.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
Her smile, her smirk, reappeared. “Drive safely.”
“I will.”
I got back into the Jeep and started it up. It felt okay.
The demon had cast what amounted to an invisible ramp in front of me. I’d have driven up it, to oh sixty feet or more off the roadbed, and off the edge. The result would have been an inexplicably fatal crash. A nice trick, as things go. Not original with this one, either.
He had been a shape-shifter, a left-hand path incubus, a very dark one. Not close to the ones we’d crossed paths with, but not entirely unrelated either. He’d decided to get rid of me. Not out of any sense of revenge or motivation from another, but just because.
Wrong decision. I imagine Tana was letting others know, who would in turn let others know. But how many more like that were out there? After eating him, the answer, I knew, was undoubtedly more than one.
How do we protect Carol, others around me? It’s that collateral damage I worry about.
When I got home, Marty was just packing up. He made me take off my boots (I put them in the pan on the back porch to disinfect) and we walked in wearing socks. He asked about the pan, and I explained it to him. He nodded and told me they’d make an enclosure for the pan, one with a metal lining and a drain, so I didn’t bleach out the decking.
“Hey, wondered when I was going to get shower heads,” I mentioned, pointing to the shower heads that hadn’t been there the day before.
He laughed. “Just smuggled into the country,” he told me.
“Really?”
He nodded. “From the UAE by an airline pilot friend of Bob’s -- these are not low-flow shower heads, my friend! You can’t buy these anywhere in North America or most of the E.U.”
I smiled. I had my own well and water tanks. That stuff had been redone as part of the remodel, with larger tanks installed, super insulated, along with the solar hot water system. “Damn! Something else to thank him for! When I was over there,” I told him, “I was supposed to have a month of R and R, but instead got sent to the Emirates to study camel -- the place I stayed had a shower that was amazing, putting out so much water... And after six months without a shower, man did I go for that!”
Marty nodded. “They’re popular around here; it’s a local secret.”
“I’ll just enjoy it!”
Wednesday was furniture day -- they put pads on the floors to move things in, and little pads underneath the furniture. Cindy supervised, and we all got a tour at the end of the day. Very nice! But they didn’t want me on the floors any more than absolutely necessary, no shoes, no boots. Okay, I’ll move in Friday? That was fine.
Should have made house calls Thursday. Damn photographer showed up. Oh, a nice enough gal, but she followed me around, taking pictures of me as well as of the house and the furniture.
I talked to Carol -- she was itching to see the place. She’d gotten my note, and would bring her camera and lenses.
Cindy and Marty were there when I got off the phone. We bet on when Carol would show. I put twenty bucks on three thirty Friday afternoon. Cindy bet on six, and Marty picked five. I told them they were gonna lose!
Carol drove up at three thirty seven on Friday afternoon. Don’t think she was expecting applause and a welcome committee. She rushed to the house to use the loo -- take off your boots!
She was all smiles when she came out, though -- smiles and hugs for Marty, Bob, Cindy, and me. Maria joined us -- nobody else scheduled for the afternoon.
Carol thought the place looked beautiful. Cindy gave us the grand tour (we had to take off our boots still). It did look damn nice. She took pride in pointing out that most of the furniture and cabinets were made from lumber reclaimed from the site.
We put on our boots again so Marty and Bob could give us a tour of their stuff -- the solar systems, electric and hot water, the insulation job, so many details. I hadn’t noticed until he explained how they’d worked over the South wall of my office in the clinic. It had a big window in it, and when the trailer wasn’t there, it gave me a great view. I knew they replaced the window. That wall was now four inches thicker, and they’d extended the walkway cover around the back of the building and put what had been two of our four spare solar panels up on the cover to shade the window, making it fit in with the rest of the site. Nice job, guys! I still had the view, and wouldn’t bake!
Maria was so happy with covered parking, and could tell that the clinic would be much more even in terms of temperature. I think she liked having separate and clearly marked spots for clinic staff. Carol and I would park our rigs around back in a separate covered area.
Bob wanted to show off his stuff, so we took off our boots and went into the living room again.
Big screen TV built into a wall. LCD, LED, he says it’s both -- looks good to me.
He pushed buttons and brought up a bunch of screens that showed what the solar systems were doing -- saving money, that’s what! The added insulation on the Clinic helped a lot as well. They’d buried a lot of pipe down sixteen or more feet, and circulated fluid through that -- it stayed below sixty degrees F or thereabouts, fifty six currently, and used that to pre-cool the air, for both the clinic and the house. They could also use solar-heated fluid to heat the air, and give us a lot of hot water. He figured we could keep both buildings cooler in the summer and warmer in the winter at no cost.
Then he gave the remote to Cindy. She smiled at me and told me I probably wasn’t going to like it, but I’d have to put up with it for a few minutes.
She went through a slide show from what the photographer had done.
Started with one of the last pictures she’d taken -- me sitting on the porch. She called it a sepia tint; not color, but not black and white, either. I guess I’m a good looking cuss. Wiry, big moustache, no nonsense.
Good pictures of the house and the furniture.
Then some of me with a client, the Booth’s dog. Another sepia toned thing, with me nose-to-nose talking to the dog. And I’m smiling.
“He only smiles when he’s with the animals,” Maria tossed in.
“You should see him when he’s around Chester!” Carol said.
“I think Chester is his hero,” Maria offered with a smirk.
Everyone laughed, even me. “Chester is a hero to a lot of us,” I told them.
The girls showed up around five, and a pitcher of margaritas appeared. Then one of the sisters who does catering at Chavez showed up, and we had a nice spread around the picnic table. We’d have a real party in another two weeks, when Carol was here for the summer, and to celebrate completing the project. I started to grumble but Cindy put a hand on my arm and told me I’d have a good time. Did I have anyone I’d like to invite?
Carol told us she needed to push things back two weeks -- she could polish off at least one more section of her boards, and get some other things done. No problem; the party would get rescheduled.
After dinner I worked with the girls getting me moved out of the trailer and back into the house. I insisted on moving some things -- guns, ammo, the little box from the Yeti. But we got me moved out. Bob said they’d pick up the trailer Monday. No hurry, I told them. Talked to Marty about a rack or something for the shotgun, inside my bedroom door, or maybe in the hallway. Maybe a pistol holster on the back of one of the nightstands?
With everyone gone but Carol and me, standing in my socks in the kitchen, “That new?” I asked, pointing to a coffee maker on the counter.
Carol smiled and nodded. “Yup, I got it last week. It’s even got a timer, so coffee will be ready when I get up. What’s the schedule tomorrow?”
I smiled. “We’ve got a research project. I’d like to start around nine. How does that sound?”
She nodded. “Fine. Sleep in later Sunday?”
“Oh yeah -- Sunday night gonna be a long one.”
“Got any more for me to read?” she asked.
“I can get al-Faz if you’d like,” I offered.
“I’d like that.”
“Fill up your sprayers, too?”
“Oh yeah -- ran dry last week.”
“Let’s wander to the barn then.”
We talked about school. She had three finals coming up, and wasn’t worried about any of them. She was really looking forward to being out here for the summer, and wondering how she was going to make it through her last semester. I suggested she focus on her boards. Yeah, she was aware of those... But they were victims for a new program, letting folks stagger parts of their boards, so she’d done one of four sections already, aced it, and would do more sections in another few weeks, leaving only one or two sections remaining. The background checks and other crap for here and Texas were underway with no issues. Her remaining issues were residence requirements, and she was arguing she’d already met those.
We walked through Open Clinic setup -- everything was set. All we needed to do was pull things out and wait for chaos. I got al-Faz for her, and raided my supply of fairy dust; I needed to make more Gatorade as well.
Back in the house, after a little bit in the kitchen, we headed off to bed.
The room was too good for me; the trailer suited me pretty damn well. I’d have to check the slats in the bed frame, if I expect to be entertaining visitors, and I certainly hoped I would!
But the bed was comfy, the place quiet, and I soon fell asleep.
What a damn fine shower! I liked the shower head! Talking to Carol over breakfast, she liked her room too. What did we need for the research project? Camera, flashes, macro stuff. I had some scales we could put in the pictures for reference. Notebooks, pens, the usual. We each had two clip-on bottles of Gatorade, with plenty of fairy dust. Carol really wanted to take some of that back to help her through finals. Didn’t have a problem with that.
Just because, I grabbed the Glock with a magazine of silver.
We walked down to my little range area. We’d do some shooting tomorrow if she wanted; I’d skipped the previous weekend so I should put in the time. She wanted to do that; she’d spent some time at an indoor range by the school, working with one of their instructors.
I sat on the ground and motioned for Carol to do the same. “Eye protection, first,” I told her, switching from my sunglasses to yellow shooting glasses. “Now, a really loud whistle.”
She cut loose with a good one. Nothing.
Okay, maybe we have to be formally introduced. I nodded and gave it a try.
After a few seconds, I saw one peeking out from under some brush. “Hey, she’s family -- you need to protect her, too,” I told them. “Come on out!”
Three scurried to me, and at least three more scurried to Carol.
“Tatzelwurm!” she said excitedly.
I let one climb on my hand, and held it up. “You are a very handsome beast!” I told it. I put it on Carol’s shoulder and told them, “She’s family -- protect her, too!”
The one on her shoulder looked out at the world, opened its mouth, and let the world know... The others joined in, and when I looked around, we had a dozen or more around us.
“Where did you find out about them?” I had to ask.
She had one in her hand and was looking at it. “What a good looking beastie!” she praised it. “I’ve been looking all over the net -- there’s a Swiss site about them, if you can read German.”
I nodded. “As I understand it, these aren’t Alpine -- they’re from Morocco, cousins from an area more like this in terms of climate.”
“They’re beautiful!” she said, smiling. The one in her hand opened its mouth and swung its head side to side, hissing, agreeing with her, I think. “How did they get here?”
“The dwarves did it; they’re guarding the place, and us.”
“Will you protect me, too?” she asked the one in her hand. It immediately turned to face the world and gave its answer, joined by those around us, and more in the distance. Carol giggled. “Thank you!” she told it.
It turned and ran up her arm, around the back of her neck, and to her shoulder.
“So far, I’ve found them to be possessive, territorial, and they’ve got an attitude...”
“Yeah; I can’t quite see these guys sitting around wearing feathered Alpine hats, drinking beer,” she suggested.
“More like guarding mountain passes and helping intruders find the quickest way to Hell, right guys?” I asked them.
That got the reply we expected!
“Now let’s see if we can get a picture of one,” I suggested quietly.
She nodded. “Try for one in your hand to get an idea of scale?” she said as she pulled her camera case around.
“Sounds good. Might get out the sprayer, too, in case someone objects.”
“The claws look nasty. Are the teeth that sharp? Got enough of them!”
“I’m pretty sure they stripped a coyote clean to the bone in three hours.”
“No shit!”
“We can head over there later.”
“You rock, guys!” she told our friends. They agreed.
She put a flash and a different lens on her camera, a Nikon. I held one up on my hand. “This is just for our friends, so we can take better care of you,” I explained. Don’t know if they were listening, or cared, but I usually talk to my patients and explain what I’m doing anyway.
Carol got one picture, then another. “Great -- going for a close-up on the head.” Another flash.
“Who’s a fierce beastie?” I asked it.
I think they understand things like that -- it opened its mouth wide and did the hissing routine for us. Carol got some pics. “That’s great! Such a handsome beast!” she praised it.
She got close-ups of the legs and claws, upper view of the head, side view with spines, and some close-ups of the belly, looking at scale patterns, and the transition region from body to tail. I held a millimeter scale in some of the shots.
I got out my electronic scale and flipped my hat over on to it, zeroing it. I picked up one of our friends and put it in the hat. It looked around, but we got a weight, and a picture. I guess they figured we wanted them in the hat -- suddenly we had about a dozen in the hat! We laughed as they climbed over each other, and Carol took pictures. One of them opened its mouth and hissed, and its buddies followed suit. “I hope you got a picture of that!” I told Carol. “Oh yeah!” she replied.
They scattered out of the hat. One turned and bit on the brim, thrashing its body, pulling the hat off the scale. It let go of the hat, hissed in victory, then scurried into the brush again. I picked up the hat. “Look,” I pointed to the spot where it had bitten down, almost completely through the brim. “Wonder if Tilley warrantees their hats for these guys...”
“Nasty teeth!” Carol agreed.
We packed up our gear. “I’d like to see if any are grooved,” I tossed out.
“Venomous?” she queried.
“Might be. Want to see their other work?”
“Sure! How many are there?”
I shook my head. “No clue -- thirty at least? Fifty? I get the feeling they’re trouble that travels in packs.”
“Oh yeah -- and a lot of attitude in a small package!”
We walked to where the wash crossed the property line. Not surprisingly, other scavengers in the area had gone after parts of the skeleton; the skull was missing, as was a foreleg. Some of the ribs were loose.
“They did that in a few hours?”
“Best I can tell. Don’t know what they did with the fur. Damn good job though.”
“Wow, I’ll say! I’d guess they’re carnivores?”
“I’d say that’s their bias, with those teeth.”
Carol’s laptop was back at the house, so we went there and set up on the kitchen table to work up a preliminary writeup. The pictures were amazing! She gave me abuse for not having a laptop, particularly since I now had really fast wireless. Okay, I’ll think about it.
We had an early dinner, and walked the inner fence around sunset, sitting on the porch as the evening came on.
Glancing over at Carol as we sat on the porch, she was looking out at the scrub, and the look she had on her face, the smile...
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I asked quietly.
“It certainly is,” she agreed.
I stood up. “I’m flicking it in early, and sleeping in late -- tomorrow’s gonna be a long one!”
She stood up as well. “Oh yeah. I wonder what we’re going to see this time?”
I shook my head and chuckled as I walked back into the house.
END of Part 10
Rev 2011/10/12
On to Part 11!
Open Clinic 10
By silli_artie@hotmail.com
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/artie/www