1606010611-When-a-Good-Angel-Falls-Kougar.doc (15 page)

“Why?” she challenged. “Because I find you irresistible, but still think we shouldn’t be sexual with each other?”

“No. Because, my woman, you won’t deny what is true. I won’t allow it.”

She heard his words as his law because that’s how he spoke them. As a sacred law not to be crossed. “You would really spank me?” She felt ethereal, a sense of disbelief possessing her.

“Extreme carnal persuasion, another advanced course. Required for those of us on mission in the Earth realm.”

“You’re making that up.”

Volcano slowly shook his head ‘no’. He glowed, a dark rich gold. His gaze hungered for her, a hunger beyond a human man’s appetite for a woman, as she knew it.

Sedona shifted on her rear, as if he’d already promised to spank her. “Abuse of the elderly,” she muttered, defiant. “Unless it’s a sexual thing.
Whatever. I can’t even think properly around you!” She glared.

He held out a chip to her. “Peace offering.”

His voice, his gaze was potent and rich. How did you say ‘no’ to a cherub this handsome, this compelling, this utterly magical? Sedona tasted the chip he gently placed before her lips. Shocked, pleasured, her gaze flew to his, flew into his. Roses, she tasted pink radiant roses. More than that, she felt his heart for her. Radiant red hot. For her.

She also knew to her soul, he meant what he’d spoken. He would spank her if she refused how she ‘felt’ about him, and denied it. Refused him. He was a ‘big’ enough cherub to do it—his size, his physical strength. She swallowed, her eyes remaining in his. A carnal cherub was definitely carnal,
and willing to spank ‘his woman’.

Perversely she wondered when? How she had suddenly become his? And she wondered why she wasn’t
fighting
him harder. No man had dared spank her.

“Sedona,” he murmured, his voice so rich in timbre, in meaning, she shivered. “Come to bed with me. Sleep with me.”

“Bathroom,” she murmured, then escaped him, temporarily. Slipping out of the nook, she realized she would probably never escape him, except by divine decree. She shivered intensely inside, frightened, wildly frightened. And wildly excited.

And wildly confused. But when wasn’t she confused? It had become a lifestyle.

“A few hours,” she stated as she emerged into the bedroom. Her naked cherub held open the covers. She gulped, paused, then forced herself to walk toward him. Closing her eyes, she let the robe slide from her. She opened her eyes only to climb in beside him.

“It’s too confusing,” she whispered. He gathered her close against him
and just held her, held her comfortably, strongly.

“The human fear of rejection versus the human fear of captivity,” he deeply murmured near her ear.

“Yes, it hurts,” she whispered. “You must know.” She squeezed the words out. “My heart is shut down. Closed against men.”

“I know,” he comforted.

“I really do think you’re too young, I’m too old.”

Blatantly he slid his hand over her bottom, and rubbed, reminded her. “Sleep, my angel woman.”

Even as he encouraged her into deep restful slumber, his frequency to hers, Volcano wanted her to know she belonged to him.

“Bad carnal cherub,” she murmured, drifting away. “No spanking, no touching. No bad Special Agent dreams.”

He couldn’t promise her no vision dreams. It was the decision of her own soul, and of the Divine Consortium. He could promise her a deserved spanking. He could promise her more ‘touching’ of her soft heavenly rump. That was how he slumbered, one hand gripping her bottom cheek, one arm holding her, his essence protecting her while he communed with the One.

* * * *

The cloud mattress was so soft, so peaceful Sedona felt happy, a happiness she hadn’t experienced in forever. Then she became aware of his hand, the cherub’s hand possessing her behind. And aware of how he’d felt inside her, the fierce wicked ecstasy of him.

She woke up, sweating, hot, his face above hers. His eyes gleamed for her. Silvery storms of passion.

“We need to leave,” he murmured tenderly. Freed her.

Automatically she rolled out of bed, headed for the bathroom. Her heart almost pounded, her blood quickened. Her thoughts flooded. She shoved them away as she switched on the light. She didn’t see any point in thinking now. Action was required, mere doing.

Sedona nearly screamed. She did scream internally. By what she could see of her body, looking downward, she was another ten years younger. On pure impulse, she looked in the mirror. She almost didn’t recognize herself. Stunned to absolute stillness, she simply stared.

“Okay, then,” she finally murmured, and splashed water on her face. Her emotions raged. She ignored them. Seeing her cycle clothes, she put them on. The riot of feelings was too much to deal with now. Walking toward the front room, she noticed everything looked as it had been when they arrived. Besides, she had no clue where to begin, if she did express herself.

“Erased?” she asked. He waited next to the cycle, their helmets in hand.

“But not forgotten.” He handed her the helmet.

“Too bad,” she sassed, her emotions raw, near explosive.

Volcano smacked her bottom, then gripped her hair. He forced her mouth to his, kissing her hard and swift.

“Angel woman,” he caressed with his tone, his eyes.

Sedona melted. When he let her go, she merely put on the helmet, swung behind him.

“Tight,” he seductive reminded, joy lighting his voice.

For spite Sedona wrapped her arms around his waist, and squeezed as hard as she could.

“Tight enough, babe,” he chuckled. She saw a wavering of what she’d call frequency open the cabin door.

They shot outside, and zoomed into the forest. It was such a whizzing blur, Sedona shut her eyes and just hung onto him.
The Cherub Who Made Love to Me, Like the Spy Who Made Love To Me. It could be a book, if I had a publisher, and time to write—actually, I think it was the Spy Who Loved Me.

I will make love to you.
He crooned inside her mind, and made her all tingly, all super hot and wildly wanting. She stopped herself, since her grip on him loosened.

Stop it! You’ll make me fall off.

I’ll save you, little lady.

Was that a Lone Ranger imitation?

That’s right, ma’am. I won’t be riding off into the sunset this time.

You won’t be riding me if that’s what yer a wantin’. Not that kind of gal. Bordello south side of town.

We’ll get hitched. Mrs. Lone Ranger.

Only if you let me ride Silver.

Lady Godiva nude. I’ll ride behind you. Sedona, right hand pocket, there’s an energy weapon. Just aim, think strike.

Curious, her adrenaline rising, she slid her hand in his jacket pocket. It felt like a slim case.

How do I hold onto you and shoot?

Shielding will hold you up when we need it.

Not now?

Energy conservation. The gauntlet is forming against us. Shoot everything that comes at us. No matter what it looks like. Or who it looks like. Do you understand?

Yes. What are we shooting?

Hive mind entities, a form of soldier that can shift to any ordered shape,
like a hologram creation. Only they aren’t holographic.

Like the silver molten bad guy in Terminator II?

Different composition. Think of it as shadow energy that becomes real.
There are always dark edges around them,

My eyesight isn’t twenty
-twenty. Even if I am physically younger.

You noticed

Ha. Ha. Funny, cherub.

I’ll amplify your vision. We’ll hit the highway soon. Get ready to shoot. They’re waiting for us. Shielding up.

Sedona felt a strong force build around her, and hold her securely. The black top highway came into view. Volcano angled the cycle so they raced next to it. As the wheels descended, they glided over, then set down smoothly.

As if they appeared out of nowhere, shadow humanoid forms charged at them, more soaring than running.

Sedona aimed.
Strike
. Poof! One was gone. Hordes ran toward them. Gulping down her fear, she aimed at the closest shadowy movement, thought ‘strike’. Over and over, she destroyed the three dimensional forms racing at them. Part of her felt amazed. Part of her wondered what happened if they were surrounded. What did the shadow things do?

Strike! Strike! Strike!
she ordered. One ‘poofed’ into the next one, the next one. It became a relentless rhythm of destruction. She knew Volcano fired on the other side by his body’s position and movement.

The bear charged toward her. Towering on its hind legs, fangs bared. Fright chilled her for an instant before she aimed, destroyed. Watching the ‘poof!’ felt like an endorphin high, probably some chemical high. More monstrous bears charged. Eagle shapes swooped. She hated destroying them. But she aimed, then watched them dissolve. Puff away into the ash gray sky.

It was all in the split second ‘poof! Then she knew they weren’t the real animal. Even so, as the wolves charged her, her beloved wolves, she aimed. Destroyed, one by one, looking for the dark edges first. Knowing as they disappeared they weren’t really her beloved spirit wolves. No matter her surging emotion.

Suddenly they raced upwards along the winding highway. Hideously forming creatures covered the morning silvered sky ahead of them, as if they’d escaped out of someone’s tormenting nightmare. Disfigured, gruesome satanic creatures streaked toward them. So horrifying, Sedona felt herself freeze up, even though she ferociously wanted to fight.

Pretend Buffy.
Volcano encouraged his woman.

That’s it. What would Buffy do?
Sedona took aim. “Slay!” she shouted. The first roiling-faced demon shattered to nothingness.
Slay!
she
repeated over and over, electrifying herself
.
Something in her celebrated as she’d never celebrated each time one of the distorted uglies ‘poofed’. Died.

Slay! Slay the evil.
She chanted, aiming constantly, blasting the fiendish monstrosities, some of them voracious sharp-fang giants with eyes like black holes, who wanted to gobble her up, like a tasty rare morsel. Some of them horned slimy devils with blood-red eyes, who wanted to suck up her soul. Just another drop added to their pool of evil.

Yes! My inner Buffy!
she celebrated.

Inner Buffy, dragons dead ahead
, Volcano joked and warned.

No! Do I have to slay the dragons?

Winged leviathans of sinister force, they twisted from shadow, writhed across the sky, oily black sinuous, deadly. Some with heads sleek and vile, others with mammoth heads. Glistening mountainous bumps and spikes framed eyes that mesmerized or stunned.

Sedona aimed, thought death by explosion. Oily fragments sprayed outward. Constantly. Black rained downward. Vanishing. Still the day-brightened sky squirmed with coiling appearing dragons. They lunged savage attacks, their striking eyes inflicting helplessness. As if they battled mere mortals. Until a shining colossal disc appeared. What was once considered a typical UFO.

In awe, Sedona watched the disc’s beams suck up the dragons.

Reptoid friends,
Volcano explained.
Enemies on the road side. Watch out. Shoot.

Hitchhikers?!

Shoot! Dark edges.

Poof! The youngish male with the backpack, his thumb out. Poof! Two college coed-types, fashionable plaid jackets, cute stocking caps. Sedona cringed inside. Poof! The homeless-looking waif. Poof! A couple that appeared to be hardened rebels. Sedona hated destroying them. It went against her very soul.

Shoot!
Volcano ordered, firing at people on the other side of the highway.

Sedona hesitated, everything in her recoiling.

Dave BearFeather hailed her.
Dark edges, dark edges
, she chanted to herself, straining to see them. But it wasn’t the edges, he shimmered like sun on asphalt for a split second. She destroyed. He poofed away, so much scattered wind.

She breathed in, saw nothing ahead of them. Glancing behind, she saw nothing but highway. Around them the sparse mountain forest turned to high desert terrain. At some point, they had gradually traveled downward. The air smelled less crisp, heavier with ash scorch and dry dust.

Tanks ahead,
Volcano warned.

Shadow tanks?

Real tanks. UN tanks.

What? Are we target practice?

Fear tactic,
Volcano joked.

Good tactic. I’m afraid. Unless you have an escape route. Or unless this weapon works on tanks, my inner Buffy has gone AWOL.