Lunatic Fringe (26 page)

Instead, she stared into her lover’s
eyes. She would trust Archer. She would love her. She seemed to
have little choice. They locked gazes, learning to trust one
another by looking as hard as they could. Then Archer leaned in and
pressed her mouth against Lexie’s. Their moist noses touched,
sharing breath.

As the sky moved from violet to deep
blue, Lexie drifted off into a deep and cozy sleep. She dreamt of
running, mouth open wide, with Archer at her side. It felt like
freedom. It felt like love.

Chapter 14

Lexie awoke naked, a beam of sunlight
beating down on the side of her face. Her back was slick with
sweat, as though she’d been wearing fur coat. She rolled onto her
stomach and shook with surprise, startling Archer and sending her
yipping to her paws. Lexie likewise jumped to her feet and teetered
naked at the edge of the wooden platform, a hundred feet above the
forest floor. Archer had leapt in the opposite direction, her tail
fluffed out like a dust brush, the tree’s branches throwing her
into shadow. They looked at one another a moment as Lexie regained
her balance.

Though Lexie had returned to her normal
shape, there was no denying the previous night’s events; Archer’s
still-fuzzy face confirmed as much. The daylight brought out the
subtleties in Archer’s fur. She looked all wolf, save for the
unsettling humanity in her black-rimmed eyes. It created a
cognitive dissonance in Lexie. Like the memory of a dream that
persists after waking, Archer stood before her as a disconcerting
intrusion of the extraordinary into the mundane. She knew that
Archer was this creature, but comparing their two bodies, now so at
odds with one another, it seemed impossible. Yet, the Archer Lexie
knew lived in those eyes. Lexie found her in the nuances of her
irises, her pupils, the shape and color.

Recognizing her lover in the beast made
Lexie aware of her own nakedness. She wrapped her arms around her
body in modesty, even as she felt silly for doing so. Lexie’s skin
was unmarred from the previous night’s attack, as though in
shedding her wolf hide, she likewise shed her injuries.

Archer cocked her head like a dog
trying to understand a command. She swung her head to the right,
stretching from the tip of her tail to her ears. Leaning back on
her haunches, she inhaled and retracted her muzzle into her face.
Her claws followed suit, along with her tail, ears, and curved
spine. In a fleeting moment, Archer returned to her human form, the
transition itself occupying the dream-time territory of visions,
tip-of-the-tongue moments, and not-quite-remembered dreams. Though
Lexie was certain she saw the whole thing, it eluded recollection.
If asked to testify as to what she saw, she would be unable to do
so. It was as though the wolf was a glamour and the spell had worn
off, the time between the two forms lost.

Archer squatted naked on the lambskin,
fingertips pressed to the platform before her as though she was
preparing to leap. She wore her bare skin as comfortably as she had
her wolf hide. Anticipation filled the air, Lexie’s naked body
waking with a flush of tingles, pining all over again for Archer’s
touch.

Archer could have been reading Lexie’s
mind; a knowing smirk crept across her lips. Lexie tensed, staring
at Archer’s stunning body: her olive-brown skin, her smooth stomach
with just a hint of definition, each muscle in her torso taut. Her
limbs were long and lean, as if the only softness on her body was
that which defined her sex. Lexie’s eyes traced the path from
Archer’s clavicle, sunk deep in shadow, down the line between her
breasts, to her navel and below. Short brown hairs delineated the
path down the most vulnerable part of her belly. Lexie’s gaze
followed these downy whiskers to where the hair amassed in a soft
thicket. It wasn’t curly and tangled like Lexie’s, but straight and
silky, laying cross-hatched like the fine fibers on the closed
mouth of a Venus flytrap.

Lexie’s desire for Archer dripped down
her inner thigh, mingling with the sweat of a night pressed against
a great furry beast. Her scent flooded the treehouse, signaling a
singular need that would usurp all the yet unasked questions that
still squirmed at the back of Lexie’s brain. Right now, though, she
had other things on her mind.

Lexie spread her arms, offering herself
to Archer. The scattered sunlight cast brilliant blotches of light
on her pale skin. Archer did not move a muscle, eyes traveling
Lexie’s form as Lexie’s had over hers.

They couldn’t have slept longer than
four hours; the birds were still singing their early, hungry calls.
Yet, Lexie felt renewed. She wanted nothing more than to tackle
Archer, to pin her and wrap her legs around her waist.

In a great leap like the one she
executed up the cliffside the day before, Lexie traversed the
distance to the center of the platform, landing smoothly on the
fleece and wrapping herself around Archer. She pressed her soaking
groin against Archer’s abdomen; the tensing of Archer’s muscles
sent waves of desire through her body. Lexie crammed her mouth
against Archer’s. Their tongues wrestled and tumbled. Archer sat
up, and Lexie locked her ankles behind Archer’s back. She ground
herself against Archer, releasing a satisfying moan. Archer kissed
and sucked greedily all over her skin. Lexie caught her breath, and
with it her scent: balsam and honey. Archer’s own scent filled the
air like a cedar bonfire, all musk and smoke. Their pheromones
tangoed through the treehouse, the chemistry of their bodies
creating a new scent and taste of their combined sex.

Archer’s eyes rolled back in her head,
and she whimpered like a puppy. She leapt to her feet and carried
Lexie, still wrapped around her, to the cedar trunk. The rough bark
felt delicious against Lexie’s back. Lexie grabbed the branch above
her head, leaning back into the trunk with her legs still locked
around Archer. Archer worked her right hand into Lexie, open and
eager, enveloping her four fingers and easing her hand in farther,
past her knuckles, up to her thumb. Her hand retreated then
reentered.

“
Ah!” Lexie screamed aloud,
the shock and joy forcing the cry out in a ribbon of blissful
sound. Archer pressed further, the moisture of Lexie’s body bathing
her hand and wrist, easing her entrance. Her thumb slipped in up to
her final knuckle. Lexie’s eyes squeezed shut, her mouth wide open,
her toes curled against Archer’s back. Lexie’s muscles stretched
and clenched, tugging at Archer’s hand, eager for whatever she
could offer.

Archer whispered, “Yes?” Lexie replied
with a fervent nod, her chest heaving as she panted with each press
of Archer’s hand. With a shared, low moan, Archer’s hand slipped
completely into Lexie. Her fingertips grazed her cervix, which
dropped in concert with the contractions of Lexie’s muscles. Lexie
felt Archer tease her fingers, exploring her
inner-landscape.

Archer curled her fingers into a fist;
Lexie moaned at the hard knot pressing against every nerve inside
her. She dug her nails into Archer’s back, grasping at her flesh,
her toes and fingers curling as she urged Archer on. Archer pulled
and pushed, thrusting a cry out of Lexie’s throat with each pulse.
Lexie’s grip shook the branch above her head as she rode Archer’s
fist. She controlled the depth and rhythm, eagerly rocking her body
onto Archer’s wrist. Archer rested her head on Lexie’s shoulder
with a groan of her own. Archer’s body within Lexie’s felt like
home or heaven or both. If Archer could push the rest of her body
inside of her, Lexie would invite her to curl up and stay
forever.

Archer’s tears dampened the skin of
Lexie’s shoulder. “Yes, Lexie, yes,” she whispered. Lexie’s
animalistic wails and grunts echoed through the forest. Her muscles
clenched in bands, squeezing Archer’s hand like a coiled snake.
Breath drove out of Archer’s nostrils in bellows, cooling Lexie’s
flushed and sweat-slicked skin. The bowstrings of her tendons
strained within her neck and a vein emerged like the river below
them.

Lexie opened her mouth in a cry,
soundless this time, as her muscles released around Archer’s hand.
A space, a vacuum, surrounded Archer’s fist as Lexie’s muscles
expanded. Lexie squealed a tiny high-pitched sigh that turned into
a clattering, orgasmic scream as her muscles tensed again and
flushed a great torrent of fluid about Archer’s hand, dripping down
her wrist to her elbow. Lexie’s cervix, a slick button of flesh
that seized with each stroke, pushed down against Archer’s hand as
if trying to eject it completely. Her muscles contracted in a
cascading rhythm like a sound wave, squeezing and
releasing.

Archer’s own body trembled and shook,
and she moaned as Lexie’s orgasm sparked her own. Lexie surrendered
to the bliss of tension and release, the boundaries of her body
dissolving, the space between herself and the world drawing thin.
Lexie couldn’t tell the difference between her body and Archer’s.
All was the same temperature, the same depth, the same size. Their
feet were made of the same wood as the planks beneath them, the
tree trunk supporting Lexie’s back was made of her own spine. Her
hair was the cedar needles that grazed her head; her breath was the
breeze that shuddered through it all. Her tongue was Archer’s lower
lip, her sex was Archer’s hand.

Time passed. The boundaries between
objects and moments reformed in Lexie’s universe. Energy washed
across Lexie’s skin, awakening her pores, beating with her heart,
sighing with her lungs. The air flooded into her pores like water
into tide pools, swirling, carrying all sorts of organisms and
energies, creating microcosms within her body. She felt fragile and
defenseless, open and exhilarated. Her eyes swelled with tears, a
fear creeping along her skin of what might crawl into her body and
create a dwelling amongst her veins.

A tear rolled down her cheek, to
Archer’s forehead, still nestled in the space between her shoulder
and neck. Archer pulled her head away to see the tears staining
Lexie’s face.

More tears flowed following the trail
blazed by the first. With her free hand, Archer wiped them from
Lexie’s cheeks. “Take a deep breath and exhale.”

Lexie obliged, inhaling to the bottoms
of her lungs. On the exhale, Archer withdrew her hand. Lexie’s
knees buckled and she slipped, caught in Archer’s arms. Archer
pressed kisses to her temple.

Now, it was Archer’s turn to cry. Her
eyes burned as she said, “I’m sorry.” The apology came in a low
growl of guilt.

Lexie’s eyes fluttered open and she
offered a tearstained, flushed-lipped smile.

“
Why?”

“
I hurt you.” Archer’s
forehead creased with regret.

Lexie sniffed in her tears and wiped
away Archer’s. “No, you didn’t. That was . . .” Unable to find the
right word, she pressed her mouth to Archer’s, the kiss hot and
salty with both their tears.

Archer carried Lexie back to the fleece
that was becoming their sensation of home. They lay down together,
alert but needing a respite. Lexie fought against her hunger, the
dull reminder of yet another primal need. She wondered why their
bodies signaled mortality in all the dullest of ways, these
ineffable rolling discomforts, rather than prickly fierce pains
that one might assume would signal the actual urgency of hunger,
thirst, or lack of rest. She was uncomfortable admitting her
increased attraction to ideas of meat and smoke, salt and fire. She
focused on the warmth of Archer’s body at her back, redirecting her
hunger for food into a hunger for answers.

“
What was that, last
night?” Lexie asked.

“
Which part?” Archer
replied with a gentle chuckle.

Lexie couldn’t help but smile in
return, the mixture of anguish and ecstasy still roiling in her
veins.

“
Who were you
before?”

“
This,” replied Archer,
stroking Lexie’s cheek with the backs of her fingers. “I’ve always
been this way.”

“
So, we’re
different.”

Archer nodded.

Lexie’s eyes focused on the horizon,
the sunlight filtering through the leaves. Her mind struggling to
right itself as it tumbled over every fleeting question. She
struggled to form at least one into coherence.

“
Archer?”

“
Yes?”

“
I’m starving.”

Chapter 15

The rat was freaking the hell out. Its
terrified squeals shattered Lexie’s eardrums as she struggled to
get the needle of anesthetic into its haunch so it would stop
squirming and fall asleep. Her lab partner, Kal, a skinny,
feral-looking raw vegan, refused to play a part in any of this
first vivisection of biology lab. Instead, he expounded his food
philosophies to Lexie as she sucked the blood out of the scrape
wounds inflicted by the rat’s tiny claws.

“
Veganism is food
activism,” he explained, “not just a dietary choice. Not
like
vegetarianism
.”

“
I tried to be a vegetarian
in high school,” Lexie chuckled. “I almost lasted a whole week
before my dad made bacon for breakfast and I threw in the towel for
good.”

Kal grimaced. “Pigs are smarter than
Labradors, you know.”

Tastier
too
, Lexie thought.