A Siege of Herons

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

A Siege of Herons ISBN 9781419910357 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. A Siege of Herons Copyright © 2007 Sahara Kelly Edited by Briana St. James. Cover art by Philip Fuller. Electronic book Publication: June 2007 This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 443103502. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

Content Advisory: S – ENSUOUS E – ROTIC X – TREME Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (Erotic), and X (X-treme). The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. This story has been rated E–rotic. S-ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination. E-rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. E-rated titles might contain material that some readers find objectionable—in other words, almost anything goes, sexually. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry in terms of both sexual language and descriptiveness in these works of literature. X-treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Stories designated with the letter X tend to contain difficult or controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.

A SIEGE OF HERONS

Sahara Kelly

Dedication This story is respectfully dedicated to our planet and those who work full-time to protect it. While not an active environmentalist, I do believe we need to take better care of our “home”. There aren’t many others on the market at the moment… My affectionate gratitude to my family and friends, as always, and to my everpresent and patient muse who delivers inspiration as necessary, either by a simple conversation or a well-placed verbal boot up the butt. You always know what I need, Partner. Thanks for delivering it!

Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Academy Awards: Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences Corp. Hilton Hotels: Hilton Hospitality, Inc. iPod: Apple Computer, Inc. M16: Colt Defense, LLC Starbucks: Starbucks U.S. Brands, LLC Zipcar: Zipcar, Inc. Corporation

Author’s Note Once again the title of this tale comes from an archaic compound noun describing a group of birds. Herons are interesting critters, ranging from the common white egret seen all over the place in Florida, to the great blue herons I’ve seen living a quiet life here in New England conservation lands. They are big, make no mistake about it! The Seneca tribe to which my characters refer was divided into clans named after creatures of the world in which they lived. And yes, one clan was indeed the “Heron” clan. Unlike their western counterparts, the Seneca people were agrarian, farming and cultivating the land rather than roaming it freely. Research for this story not only fired my imagination but taught me a lot about Native American lore. One of the many benefits to being a writer is constantly learning new things about new times and new people. Yep, I love my job.

Sahara Kelly

Prologue

Washington DC, Present Day Ned Harper awoke in the bedroom of his small suite to find himself bathed in sweat and with an erection that hurt. It was another of those damn dreams, another session in some strange forest with a woman who was slowly, inexorably, driving him insane. He passed a shaky hand over his face as he tried to recall the details, find something—anything—that would clue him in as to why he should all of a sudden be experiencing incredibly erotic dreams about a time and place he’d never known. He knew the earth was soft beneath them and that she had amazing legs. He knew he lusted for her, desired her, needed to fuck her until they were both exhausted. The need still rattled him all the way to his back teeth. It was that overwhelmingly intense. He knew he sank himself into her—shit, his cock might still be shining from the juices he’d slid through doing that very thing. They’d rolled together, this time around, ending up with her straddling him, riding him with a body that was toned, womanly and firm, breasts bouncing, hair flying all over the place—Jesus Christ. He was losing his frickin’ mind. Because at the end of all this wonderfully erotic shit that had erupted into his sleeping hours, the woman came, orgasming on a shriek of fulfillment. Seconds before he followed her—she changed. Her body sort of shimmered like an odd movie special effect or something. The lines of her abdomen blurred, her hair kind of shifted around her head and her face— Ned shuddered right down to his soul. At the very end of his dream, milliseconds before he woke up, he found himself buried balls-deep in a goddamned heron. 6

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His shout of surprise pulled him from the vision every time, leaving him confused, sort of awake and with a serious case of morning arousal. It was getting to be a fucking pain in the ass. Ned sighed, rolled out of the mussed bed and took himself off to the bathroom, knowing that yet again, for the third morning in a row, he was gonna have to have a date with his hand. Something this sharply intense wasn’t going to go away by itself. He really wished the dreams would, though. He had no objection to the occasional fantasy. Nightmares were acceptable, since they were all part of the human brain. But this? This was outside anything he could have imagined, no matter how drunk he happened to be at the time. And he absolutely did not fuck birds. Just the thought made him queasy. So where the hell was all this coming from? Did he have something going on in his head that needed therapy? Some repressed urges to punish his pet parakeet who’d gone and passed peacefully away when he was nine? Just how sick was all this, anyway? Dr. Ned Harper, environmental biologist and practical man of science, sighed deeply as he grasped his cock in the elegant shower of the Capitol Hilton. Dreams suck.

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Chapter One She was Onandowaga, fleet of foot like the creatures that flitted through the forests and the brush on the sides of the steep hills. Onandowaga, People of the Mountain. What the white man would call Seneca. The fast pace she maintained was a comfort, her moccasins scarcely pausing on an occasional gnarled root or washed-out portion of the path. Thorny tendrils grabbed at her leather breeches and her short skirt, but nothing could slow her down. The longhouses of her village were far below her now, as were the fields of beans and squash tended so lovingly by her fellow Seneca women. At the moment, there were men to help with the chores—but that would change if some idiot decided that war was an option. Then heads would be shaved, leaving only a plume of hair to signify the passage of man into warrior. And Seneca men would die. Her heart thudded more rapidly than her pace would have caused at the mere thought of losing a certain man. Nohnohsot. The soul that called to her soul. The body that sang the song her heart knew intimately. The only one she had ever—would ever—love. Named for his people, Nohnohsot was a member of the Heron clan, taller and stronger than the bird from which they took their name, yet with the same aloof and regal air. Only she knew that beneath the calm gaze lay a heart and a body that could blaze with passion. She too was Heron. Gandewitha. Morning star—named by her mother as a brilliant star had risen at the moment of her birth.

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She’d tried to live up to the name, an honorable Seneca woman, following the rules, working hard…until… A branch slapped her painfully across one arm and she paused for breath, letting her lungs fill with the softly scented summer air. It would not be long now, no time at all, until she was with him again. Energy pulsed through her belly into her thighs and once again she ran, eating up the distance between them with long strides, eager to see him, touch him, love him… And there he was. Naked, muscled, the dark stylized symbol of the heron marking him from shoulder to waist. His arms were out, ready to clasp her close. His hand reached to grab her braid as she tore off her clothes and went to him, their flesh melding with a heat that surpassed the temperature of the air around them. He laughed softly as he tumbled with her to the grass, spread her thighs wide and plunged into her waiting cunt. He was always thus, claiming her as a warrior claimed his prize, knowing she wouldn’t have it any other way. They grappled and strained at each other, desperate to feel, to love, to fuck with all that they were. “Nohnohsot—” She cried out his name as the first shudders of her peak rippled through her.

And woke up bathed in sweat as her cell phone rang on the bedside table.

***** Gaia Jackson groaned as she reached for the annoyingly cheerful tune blaring about three inches away from her pillow and flipped the cell phone open. “Yeah?” “Gaia? Wake up.” “‘M awake.” “No, you’re not. Wake up.” 9

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The excited and alert voice of her friend Maxie penetrated the sleepy fog in Gaia’s ears and she opened her eyes, staring blearily at the draperies drawn over her window. “What time’s it?” She yawned, a jaw-cracking gape that did nothing to increase her awareness. Gaia wasn’t good at mornings. “It’s past seven already, sleepyhead.” Maxie chuckled. “You’d be up in half an hour anyway.” “That’s an eternity.” Gaia blinked. “You okay?” “Yeah, that’s why I’m calling. I’m more than okay. I’m dancing on air. I’m thrilled, excited, over the moon—” “Look, if you just got laid or something, I really don’t wanna know at this hour.” Maxie laughed. “Nope. Better.” “There’s something better?” Gaia rubbed her free hand over her face and pushed her hair back out of the way. “Yeah. The permit. It came through. I got it. Just got the email now. We got it, Gaia.” “Uh, good.” The fog was lifting a little, but not much. “Which permit was that again?” There was a gusty sigh. “Go have your coffee. I should’ve known not to call you before coffee.” “Mmm. Yeah, you probably should have.” Gaia stretched. “I’ll call you back in a few.” “Okay, bye.” The call ended with a click and Gaia hauled her ass out of the nice, warm, comforting rumple that was her bed. It was the absolute pits, the moment of the day she hated more than anything. But once out of her embryonic cocoon, her wits soon started functioning. A shower and half a pot of coffee later, she was back on the phone to Maxie. “Okay. So the permit came through. We’re set for our protest?” 10

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“Yes, but we can’t call it a protest, of course.” Maxie huffed. “Not allowable. It’s a permit for a rally.” “Jesus. We’re not long-distance bike racers or fighting against cancer, for Chrissake.” “I know. Gotta play the game, though.” There was a shuffling sound as Maxie thumbed through papers on her end of the phone conversation. “Here we go. It’s been approved as a rally in support of environmental awareness.” “Well, that works.” Gaia stared absently out the window at another sunny Washington day. “Anything else?” “Yep. We can hang banners, although there’s a size limitation, we’re allowed one tent or canopy-like structure and we’re responsible for the cleanup afterward.” “Fair enough.” Gaia nodded to herself. “The security detail will be assigned by the Park Service dudes, there’ll be some sort of Red Cross EMT system in place in case anybody faints or something…” “Good to know.” Gaia wrinkled her nose. “Once the actual, real and unedited number of endangered species gets out there, it wouldn’t surprise me if a few people did faint.” “Agreed.” Maxie sounded thoughtful. “And nobody in Park seems to have made the connection with the bill going to the House. I guess the timing only matters to us.” For the first time that morning, Gaia’s lips curled into a smile. “It’ll matter to the media when we start planting those whispers.” A giggle answered her. “Oh yeah.” Maxie would be smiling too. “It’s gonna be toward the east end of the Mall, I think. They’ll peg out the site for us. Let’s pray for good weather.” “Amen.” Gaia glanced at the clock. “Gotta scoot, Max. The Metro’s gonna be crammed full.”

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“‘K. I’ll talk to you later. Wanna do lunch?” “Can’t. Got a project to wrap up and a set of presentation slides to get to the boss before three today.” “Ouch. Okay—keep in touch.” Gaia was still smiling as she left her New Hampshire Avenue apartment and made her way toward the Foggy Bottom Metro station. The sun shone brilliantly, the traffic hummed past her as her long legs ate up the blocks—it was going to be a good day. Even the throngs of people jostling to catch their morning commute couldn’t dim her enthusiasm and when she rode the escalator up back into the sunshine at the Smithsonian stop, she nearly laughed aloud. The trees were just showing a few signs of autumn, the sky was blue and all was right with Gaia’s world. She loved DC, the buildings, the wide swaths of green cutting between them, the elegant architecture that marked this portion of the nation’s capital. She could breathe in this town, no matter how busy it got with tourists, politicians, diplomats, students—all the associated people who made Washington what it was. Gaia strode down Independence Avenue to her office, tucked away in the National Resources Conservation Service building, her heels making a nice ring on the sidewalk. Lord knew she didn’t need heels, being close to six foot tall in her bare feet. But she figured what the hell. God had blessed her with long legs—she might as well show them off. Her weird name had come from her mother, who apparently had a sixties flashback when it came to christening her only daughter. Gaia’s long black hair and high cheekbones were a heritage from a distant ancestor. She hadn’t fought any of it, but simply accepted who she was. A modern-day crusader on behalf of the Earth upon which she walked. And, once again, she smiled. Her Native American ancestors had blessed her, giving her not only the strong-hair genes, but a passion for all things living. A respect for the land, the air, the creatures that shared their existence alongside human beings. 12

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Gaia would stop and watch the sparrows, the pigeons, the squirrels as they busily buried things and dug them up again. She’d admire the sunlight shining through the many fountains splashing around the District. She even found herself fascinated by the few rats she’d seen doing their rat-thing in Lafayette Park one day. Life was so precious, no matter what shape it came in. It amazed her that others were blind to it, unseeing and uncaring of all the other residents sharing the planet. Pushing open the doors to her building, she waved to the security guard and got a wave and a wink back as she slipped her ID card into the reader and was green-lighted through into the recesses of the NRCS. Her working day was about to begin, another chance to make a difference in her world. Yep, Gaia Jackson was where she wanted to be—needed to be. Her research helped conservation efforts in a variety of places around the world and every moment she spent doing it meant something important might possibly happen in someplace she’d never heard of. She couldn’t ask for more. Except, perhaps, a nice sunny day for their “rally”. And some bored journalists who might find it interesting to hear about a certain omnibus budget bill that looked like it might sneak onto the House floor a little too quietly…

***** Quite a few female eyes turned appreciatively to the figure of Dr. Ned Harper as he relaxed in the morning sunshine on a bench in McPherson Square with his cup of coffee. Mostly he ignored the appraisals, knowing there’d be other men in other places getting the same treatment. A few years ago, he might have responded. He was younger then, his hair long and braided, emphasizing his darkly handsome good looks and strong features. Now the hair was cut and styled and the urge to pick up a woman for a hot date no longer a pressing requirement.

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He simply enjoyed the sunshine and the bustle of the city around him. Washington was nice when seen like this—from a tourist’s perspective. He’d been here before, since a couple of his buddies had gone to George Washington University and he’d done the quick trip down from Boston to spend time with them on the occasional semester break. But the hours had mostly been spent drinking vast amounts of beer and eating up a storm, not to mention a few quick and exciting rolls in the high-profile hay of DC with willing coeds. Unfortunately, most of ‘em seemed to come from the Midwest rather than some exotically titled mansion on Embassy Row. He’d headed back to New England with their phone numbers, more than one hangover and the realization he’d never actually seen the White House. Yep, college life had been cool, no doubt about it. He’d graduated with a degree, gone on to get his doctorate and was now trying to pay the price. Ned winced and took another sip of his coffee. It was that frickin’ price that had resulted in his being here, in McPherson Square, sipping coffee. After completing his thesis and getting his doctorate, he’d figured all would be sunshine and flowers, with job offers pouring out the faucets. Wrong. He’d struggled from one consulting job to another, trying to find a niche for himself in the field of his choice—environmental biology. But the booming employment opportunities had promptly dried up as soon as he’d graduated and he found himself in a financial mess, barely able to keep up his apartment just outside Boston, and when his stupid car had a seizure… The offer from the logging company had been both a boon and a headache. Ned Harper could never have envisioned himself presenting a report that favored old wood destruction. Ned stared across the green grass of the square, looking inward rather than at the traffic. The tiny consulting firm he worked for had been supportive, all things considered. It wasn’t every day a pretty hefty contract offer ended up in their mailbox,

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nor every day that a substantial check in the five-figure range accompanied it as a retainer. They’d accepted the job and Ned had known immediately it would fall on his shoulders. Evaluate and report on the effect of logging activities in the Pacific Northwest in relation to the continued survival of the marbled murrelet, with particular attention to the minimal impact of the proposed development project under the management of Greenwood Resources, Inc., copy attached. So he’d said yes. Gone to California, done his job, figured out what the hell a “marbled murrelet” was—pretty unimpressive bird, all things considered—and had ended up here, in Washington DC, with a thick file of information he would be presenting to various committees, subcommittees and grand poobahs over the next few days. He was happy to be here, happy he had a new car and no bills looming on his horizon. He wasn’t happy with the niggling feeling he’d sold out somewhere along the line, even though his research was accurate and nothing he’d found pointed to the imminent demise of the few remaining murrelets, endangered though they certainly were. Greenwood Resources was a massive company and certainly couldn’t boast environmentally clean hands. But when it came to the murrelet, Ned honestly couldn’t find a negative position. G.R. Inc. wanted wood—old growth wood. The murrelet, dim bulb of the bird world that it was, nested in old growth wood. Even though it was a sea bird. Talk about confused. However, it nested in areas well away from Greenwood’s proposed development. He should’ve been happy about it, but he wasn’t. But most of all, he wasn’t happy about the dreams plaguing him. He’d been tucked up in a nice suite at the Hilton for three nights and each night he’d had the same damn dream. It was freaky.

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Woodlands, wild and untouched, rich with trees and plants that seemed familiar to him. Air that smelled fresh, green and tangy, touched with floral fragrances that teased his nostrils. Then there was her. A woman—the same woman each time—her image seared into his brain by the incredible realism of his dream. She had the longest legs imaginable, hair damn near down to her ass… He fidgeted, tamping down the bolt of lust that shot immediately to his cock just at the thought of her. His Native American maiden. His lover. His dream woman—his goddamned erotic nightmare. She ran to him, or had done so for the last two nights, eagerness written all over her beautiful face. They’d collided in a breathtaking crash of flesh against flesh, all over each other without words. He’d fucked her with abundant pleasure and enormous joy, emotions overloading his brain every bit as much as they overloaded his cock. He’d known her, this incredible beauty of his—she’d been as familiar to him as his own face. Her body was a perfect match for his, her thighs holding him in a vise grip as she cried out and welcomed him into her blazing hot cunt. He’d awoken seconds before coming, each morning finding himself with a hard-on to end all hard-ons. This jerking off in the bathroom of a deluxe hotel had to fucking stop. The bird thing…well, that just defied all his attempts to understand it. He had no desire to become intimately acquainted with anything possessing feathers. No kinky fetishes—Ned Harper was pretty much a straight arrow when it came to sex. He was totally at a loss to understand why his dream mate would turn into some kind of distorted heron in the milliseconds before her orgasm. But she had. She did. The image lingered even as he eased himself in the shower, a fuzz of grey and white feathers, a long beak where a nose should’ve been…if it’d been a marbled murrelet he might have been able to rationalize it. 16

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But nope. She turned into a heron. No two ways about it. Ned sighed and finished his coffee. He had half an hour before his first appointment, just enough time to catch the Metro and haul his ass over to the Department of Agriculture building. Tossing his empty cup into a nearby trashcan, he headed toward 18th Street and the large “M” sign denoting a subway stop. From there he would ride to the Smithsonian station and walk the rest of the way. Piece of cake. His briefcase hung comfortably on his shoulder, the folders inside containing concisely written assessments on the current state of the logging industry, the pros and cons of future plans—and, of course, a detailed discussion of the marbled murrelet and its issues. Why a seabird had to go nest inland, in old growth trees to boot, Ned had no frickin’ clue. He was, at heart, a dedicated biologist and figured the bird deserved to be eccentric if it wanted to. But sometimes he had to wonder if some species were just too dumb to survive. The marbled murrelet was waddling perilously near to that mental line of his. Although humans were one hundred percent responsible for some pretty drastic ravaging of the planet’s resources, every now and again Ned asked himself where and when common sense and respect for nature should begin negotiations. Sure, he’d like to see all species of creature thriving. But that did include his fellow man. Ideally, the people working in the hallowed halls of government—many in the buildings surrounding him—should be able to rationally implement policies that allowed for both sensible development and ecological stability. He snorted as he reached for his Metro ticket and slid it into the appropriate slot. Hoping for that was most likely as fleeting a dream as his Native American woman. And just as unreal.

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Chapter Two “So, that’s the deal, Charlie.” Gaia stared out of her window absently as she cradled her cell phone against her ear. “This omnibus budget bill is gonna have one or two items in it that might sneak past the Hearings without much public attention. We don’t want that to happen.” On the other end of the line, there was silence for a moment or two. “Hmm.” Charlie was thinking, Gaia knew. She’d gone on a couple of dates with him some time ago and they’d remained friends, even though they’d both known romance wasn’t in their future. “You think it might be of interest to the fifth estate?” She let a quick smile cross her lips as she considered the implications of her question. Charlie was a junior reporter for the Washington Post, a position every journalist wanted, and when they got it the only thing necessary for instant success was a story similar to the Watergate scandal of the seventies. This wasn’t quite that big, but still… “Lemme look into it. Talk to a few people.” He sounded thoughtful. “There’s a few environmental pieces in the pipeline—no pun intended.” Gaia chuckled. The whole Alaska pipeline thing was always a hot-button issue when it came to matters like appropriations, bills before the House or Senate and front page headlines. Sadly, her environmental concerns didn’t merit such attention. “You say this rally is tomorrow morning?” “Yep. On the Mall. You can’t miss us. We’ll be doing all the usual stuff, handing out informative pamphlets, signing people up for our newsletter, a few games for the kids, costumes, music, that sort of thing.” She paused. “Some good photo ops, I would guess.” 18

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“Yeah. Sunshine, autumn, the environment, people working for the Earth…” Charlie’s voice tailed off. Gaia could imagine him writing the prelude to the piece in his head. “I wouldn’t bother you with this ordinarily, Charlie. But this time, it’s important. Big business is gonna win one when it comes to this bill and there’s nothing you or I can do about it. Once it gets to this stage—well, I don’t need to tell you how the system works. You know.” Charlie did know. Most everybody with a closer-than-average knowledge of the political system knew. If budget bills weren’t slid smoothly past all the checks and balances within the governmental system, they wound up bundled into an “omnibus” bill. Most of it was worthwhile and fully deserving of smooth passage through the process, but it was also a chance to stick in a couple of less-than-popular measures. The media would trumpet the successful passage of the budget, mentioning the high profile and immediate consequences. They wouldn’t have the time to devote a sound bite to a minor item concerning the lumber industry. The closer it got to November, the more the pressure built in Congress. Recess began just before Thanksgiving and there was a sense of urgency developing along with the need to settle the budget for the new year. Nobody wanted to come back for more votes if they could avoid it. It took a week or so from final passage to the desk in the Oval Office and even that was pushing the limits of the process. “You know how important everybody considers the bill to increase funding for port security.” Charlie grunted. “Hell, yeah.” “So? Need I say more? The omnibus budget will pass on the strength of that item alone and everybody’s gonna pose for photos when it’s signed.” Gaia sighed. “They’ll know there’s other things in there, but they’ll pass it anyway. Make a big noise about the good stuff and maybe the bad stuff will go away.”

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She was well aware this wasn’t news to Charlie, but sometimes she got frustrated at the way the Government worked. Yes, port security was very important these days and, yes, she wanted it increased as did most politicians in DC, regardless of party affiliation. So she accepted—wryly—the knowledge that this bill would pass, even though smaller details, like rulings in favor of environmentally unfriendly industries, would get lost in the depths of such a bill. And without even a mention. Gaia wasn’t about to let that happen. “Ag and Fish has been holding hearings. There’ve been a couple of House Subcommittees convened. Experts—and I use that word loosely—have been bought and paid for. Information in favor of old-wood logging has probably dazzled half the Representatives on the Hill by now. Or at least anybody on a Committee with a say-so on this thing.” “Like I said, lemme look into it.” Charlie’s voice told Gaia all she needed to know. “You’re a doll.” Once again, she chuckled. “If all else fails, you might meet a real sweetheart, Charlie, and have yourself a hot weekend. There’ll be plenty of females attending.” “Yeah. Right. Some chick with armpit hair and no makeup who’ll try to tell me I need to ditch my deodorant and switch to all-natural briefs.” “Charlie! You jerk.” Gaia couldn’t help laughing. “We’re not all like that, ya know.” Charlie snickered. “I know. But with my luck? Other than you, babe, I’m not exactly batting a thousand when it comes to good-looking women with a cause.” “Remind me to introduce you to Maxie.” “Oh Jeez.” Charlie’s response was more of a groan. “Do not—I repeat—do not set me up, okay?” “Hey. Would I do that to you?” “Yes.”

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Gaia sighed loudly and dramatically. “You know me too well.” She grinned. “But I’m still gonna introduce you to Maxie. She’s a whirlwind—she’s got this rally up and running. You should talk to her for no other reason than she’s got every single fact at her fingertips, much more so than I have.” “Urgh. A lecture? No thanks.” “You might be surprised.” Gaia knew that if Charlie thought this was a bad idea, he’d never meet Maxie. Hooking the two of them up would provide a little private fun tomorrow, if she could manage to do it in between educating the throng on the looming threat to their world. “Okay, then. I’ll be there. I think I can pull a photog from the pool too. Babes and the environment should be a lure. I might even throw in coffee and bagels if the first two don’t work.” “Charlie, you are a pearl beyond price.” “Yeah, but you still aren’t gonna fuck me, are you?” “Nope. Been there, thought about it, decided not to.” This time, the gusty sigh came from Charlie. “You’re a cruelly beautiful woman, Gaia Jackson. I must have a wide streak of sadism for loving you so desperately.” “You smooth talking charmer, you.” Gaia stood and stretched. “See you tomorrow.” “Bye.” Gaia snapped her phone shut, checking to see if it needed charging. One more thing to do before she hit her pillow for an early night. Tomorrow would be a long day and she wanted to be at her best if she was going to sway tourists and fellow Washingtonians around to her way of thinking. Protect and preserve the Earth and all living creatures. Remember that humans are co-residents, not rulers of the planet on which they live. Show respect for fellow denizens, coexist in harmony, not strife.

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She undressed quietly, taking care of her nighttime routine automatically while her mind wandered elsewhere—and elsewhen. The Iroquois dream catcher over her bed was a comforting presence, a reminder that perhaps tonight she’d visit the land of her forebears, the forests of the northeastern part of this country where she had lived many lifetimes ago. She’d had the dreams for as long as she could remember. Her mother had simply acknowledged them, telling Gaia they were a part of who she was and to learn from them. Her ancestry was full of tales, spirits moving through time and space, protecting, encouraging—her mother had even approved the tiny bird tattoo Gaia had desperately wanted for her sixteenth birthday. It was a simple stylized heron on the inside of her right ankle and although it had hurt like a son of a bitch for an hour or so, Gaia knew it belonged there. All these things were part of Gaia and she accepted them without question. She’d learned to also accept them privately, since the one time she’d told anybody else about her dreams, she’d gotten some real weird looks and, for a while, her seventh grade teacher seemed to pay special attention to her behavior. Of course, back then, they’d been simple dreams of a life as a Seneca girl. It wasn’t until Gaia started developing an interest in boys that her nights had changed, becoming more and more involved with one particular figure, one strong and handsome warrior. Now he dominated her sleeping hours, arriving unannounced, arousing her passions to their limits and, she acknowledged, providing a benchmark for her realtime relationships. None of which, up to this point, had come close to the desire she shared with Nohnohsot. She shrugged to herself as she turned off the light, made sure her alarm was set and then drew back her drapes for a last look outside. The night was clear and she leaned over to take a quick peek at the dome of the Capitol, lit softly in a creamy yellow glow

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by the lights surrounding it. She could barely see it from her window, but the tiny glimpse was enough to reassure her that the world was where it ought to be. After 9-11, when everybody’s lives had shifted so terribly, there was something comforting about seeing this symbol of her country, gleaming against the dark sky. It was her bulwark, her measure of security in an insecure existence. It represented order and continuity, even though Gaia had plenty of disagreements with those who worked beneath it. She drew the drapes shut once more and tumbled thankfully into her bed, snuggling the covers up under her chin and pulling her hair free of her shoulders. She was looking forward to the next day. Gaia enjoyed people, talking to them, sharing laughter and sunshine with them—hearing their tales and playing with their children. Not unlike the simple life in a village of Seneca Indians so long ago—

“Hush, my love.” His long dark hair brushed her body as he slid himself down to her parted thighs. “Hush, I would taste you. Devour you…” Her braid caught behind her neck and she moved to loosen it as Nohnohsot settled himself between her legs. The heat of their passion flooded her naked limbs and she trembled as his breath fluttered like butterfly wings against her soaked pussy. Tiny blades of grass tickled her spine, the scent of evening mingled with the scent of her arousal and Gandewitha lay back with a shivering sigh of pleasure as her lover delicately teased her sensitive folds with the very tip of his tongue. “Oh…” It was a sound from her heart, somewhere between a moan and the soft cry of a night bird. She loved this, loved everything he did to her, but especially this. As if his tongue were guided by her own needs, it found the perfect places to delve and to stroke, bringing a flood of her juices to his lips.

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He made little noises as he lapped and licked, murmurs of delight, slick whispers that told her how he savored her taste. They added to her excitement, building on her own passions, driving them higher and higher. He could make her come this way so easily, his touch unerringly accurate, like a hawk swooping down from the sky to lift a tiny creature from the earth without a moment’s hesitation. His hands slid to her buttocks, kneading them as he pushed his face even closer to her, his shoulders forcing her thighs to spread wide, offering all that she was for his delectation. She wanted his cock inside her, but didn’t want him to stop this exquisite torture. He knew how to keep her trembling on the very brink of madness, how to keep her from tumbling over until he was ready to let her go. Strong fingers squeezed and stroked her ass, pulling the cheeks apart, daringly caressing the delicate muscles between them. When one finger slid to the very entrance and ringed it, pushing against it and finally penetrating, Gandewitha cried aloud with the sensation. “I shall come, I shall fly, Nohnohsot. Sweet God of all things—” “Not yet, my morning star.” His mouth left her, cool air brushing the hot flesh, a sense of loss swamping her and keeping her arousal from exploding. Nohnohsot’s strength was unparalleled and his lusts matched only by Gandewitha’s own needs. Together they moved, Nohnohsot’s finger still penetrating her dark secret places. With one arm, he lifted her, muscles ridged and hard as they took her weight, sliding her upward. He held her against him as he rearranged himself into a kneeling position and moved her thighs either side of his hips. As if by magic, she was astride his lap, clasped to his chest, body to body, skin to skin.

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His cock was hot and thrusting, already throbbing at the entrance to her cunt. She rubbed her pussy along the length, feeling her wetness soak him, watching his eyes with their lowered lids as she moved. A flush mounted his cheeks as he gripped her more tightly and pushed—strongly— finally filling her cunt with his cock. Their bodies grazed each other as she sank all the way down, her clit rubbing against the flesh at the base of his cock. All the while, he kept his finger tucked inside her, intensifying every single step of this dance. “Your breast. Give me your breast. I hunger to suckle you.” The words were harshly muttered, even as Nohnohsot’s mouth opened with need. Seated on his lap, it was easy for Gandewitha to slide a hand between them and raise a breast to his waiting lips. Every inch of her was alive to his touch, nerves singing the song that nature had designed just for lovers. He sucked her, tonguing her taut nipple, pulling strongly on her as a babe would suck life from its mother. And he moved with her—within her—stroking her inside and out, using his strength to claim her, possess her and take her with him on the ride to ecstasy. His teeth sank gently into the skin of her breast, tugging the nipple, stretching her to the point of pain. Combined with their movements and the feel of his finger against so many screaming nerve endings, Gandewitha surrendered. The flame of her climax rose within her, a flood of fire deafening her to everything but the sound of her heartbeat as it thundered toward orgasm. The river swirled past them unnoticed, tossing spray into the moonlit darkness like jewels against the soft black pelt of a bear. She arched her neck backward, caught in the tension rippling through her as the first spasms hit—her mouth fell open and she cried out, screaming her passion into the night. Wave after wave rose within her cunt, billowing out to encompass her entire body. 25

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Nohnohsot was with her, clamping his arm around her like a band of stone, shuddering as his own orgasm claimed him. Gandewitha could feel the hot spurts of his seed erupting in her cunt, doing nothing to douse the fire, but fueling it to even greater heights. His groan and his gasp against her nipple forced her onward, two bodies moving as one, two souls sharing the most uniquely magical experience that life could offer. Her soaking passages gripped him, milking his seed, pulling it deep into the caverns of her womb where she knew it belonged. Her ass spasmed around his finger, hard, rhythmic contractions echoing the release she rode to such incredible heights. Stars burst around them, lights filled Gandewitha’s brain and she simply let go, following where her body led, following Nohnohsot’s movements blindly, wanting nothing more than for this moment to never end. It was always thus. Unsurpassed passion between two lovers made for each other. Each time was as the first time, yet better than the time before. And as she finally spiraled downward, the eruption fading, the muscles relaxing, Gandewitha knew the truth yet again. There would be no one in her life—ever—like Nohnohsot. Her soul mate for eternity. She breathed rapidly, dragging breath back into lungs starved for air and leaned into him, resting her damp forehead against his. They were both silent for a few moments, content to touch, to relax, to enjoy this warm aftermath of their passion. Then she lifted her head and touched his cheek gently with her palm. “I love you…”

***** Ned Harper swore he could feel the touch of her hand on his cheek as she spoke those three little words in his dream. “I love you.” 26

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Dazed and extremely aroused, he awoke fighting with his covers, trying to grasp where the hell he was and where the hell the woman he’d just fucked had gone to. In his dream, he’d come. In reality, he hadn’t and he was hurting—badly. So badly his body shook with the need to explode into…her. Stumbling from the bed, Ned shuffled the few steps to the elegantly appointed hotel bathroom, turned on the shower and stepped underneath, gasping at the initial douche of cold water. It did nothing to calm his heat. His head was full of images, dusky skin, laughing eyes, a passion the likes of which damn near blew his mind. He could still feel her, smell her, taste her spicy sweetness in his mouth. Under the pounding stream of his shower, Ned Harper reached for himself like a horny teenager and gripped his painfully hard cock in one water-slicked hand, leaning against the wall with the other. He closed his eyes and his grasp became her cunt, welcoming and tight, the warmth of her body encasing him as he began to stroke. His maiden, his Native American dream woman. Just a look and he was hard, a brush of her breasts and he was ready to explode. He wanted her with every fiber of his being—and in his mind he took her, strongly and fast, his hand mimicking the snug grip of her cunt, massaging him with a savage urge to take him with her as she came. It didn’t take much of this to send Ned over the edge. He groaned long and loud as he finally orgasmed, spurts shooting from his cock to mingle with the rush of water cascading over him. Jesus H. Christ. Breathless, he rode the wave with her still fixed in his mind. She was so real, so…so…everything he desired. His body contorted with pleasure, the aftermath almost painful as his muscles finally began to uncoil and release the pent-up tension that had racked him and driven him to this absurdity.

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Slowly, panting, Ned regained his equilibrium, still stunned by the dream and the woman who had damn near possessed him to the point of madness. At least she’d stayed human this time around. Was he losing his frickin’ mind? What was it about this damn place that had set his sleeping brain onto a course that led straight to her? He snorted at his own fanciful absurdity and reached for the soap. He had no idea what time it was, but he was in the shower, so what the hell. Might as well use it. At last, clean and smelling of something flowery, Ned wrapped the white hotel robe around himself and went back into the bedroom of his suite. Outside, it was still dark and the clock next to the bed digitally informed him it was barely five am. He sighed. Now what? Television? Coffee? Email? All of the above? None of the above? He wandered to the little sitting area and noticed the newspaper still on the table from Friday morning. Snapping on the table lamp, he slumped into the chair and picked it up. Perhaps something was going on today he could check out. The weekend was free, he had no meetings scheduled until Monday and would be flying back to Boston on Tuesday. Idly he thumbed the pages, wanting coffee but figuring it was just too damn early to waste the one packet of grounds allotted him by the hotel gods. He made a mental list of things he wanted to do…the Smithsonian, definitely. The National Gallery. That ought to kill a day, at least. He could, if he left now, make it into a tour of the White House. Nah. From what he’d heard, he could get a better look at the darn place at their website. It was nice looking at it from the outside, but he wasn’t about to spend hours in line with a gazillion tourists snapping endless photos and battling with their digital cameras to get that “perfect” shot. He’d had enough of the U.S. Government over the past few days to last him quite a while. This weekend would be for him to explore some of the other interests in the nation’s capital. 28

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Yawning, he tossed the paper onto the low table and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. The Smithsonian would be his first stop, definitely. Ned stretched out his legs, crossed them at the ankles and rested them next to the paper. If the weather was good, maybe a stroll through the Mall, those wonderful architectural monuments…the fountains…the reflecting pool… Sexually sated, clean and wrapped in soft Egyptian cotton, Ned Harper sank back into his interrupted rest.

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Chapter Three “You must be kidding.” Gaia stared at Maxie. “Look, I know it’s kinda out there. But it was all they had.” “Really?” “Honest.” Maxie thrust the costume at Gaia. “It’ll fit you fine and with your legs…” Her voice trailed off suggestively. Gaia grimaced. “Yeah.” Dangling from one of Maxie’s hands was a pair of yellow tights. “I’m gonna look just super in those, aren’t I? Highly paid models wear them all the time. Not.” “Well, actually I’m thinkin’ that the rest of you is going to be so damn eye-catching nobody’ll notice them.” Gaia sighed and reached for the feathered bird costume, turning it this way and that, trying to figure out which bits went where. “Didn’t they have a designer swan or something? Like the one that woman wore to the Academy Awards? You know, where the head was over the shoulder. At least I would have looked semi-human.” “The point is to not look human, sweetie. The point is to look like a bird.” Maxie nodded encouragingly. “And this’ll do it, for sure. You’ll have people coming up to you for photographs and stuff and then you can educate them about the endangered species.” Gaia straightened out the bits and pieces. “This one isn’t even endangered. It’s a heron, for God’s sake.” Maxie snorted. “You think anybody’s gonna make an issue of it? Besides—” She had the nerve to giggle. “I think it is endangered. I reckon it’ll be the only six-foot one with legs like a movie star on the Mall today.”

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“Someday I will pay you back for this. It won’t be pretty.” Gaia bravely stepped behind a curtained off part of the small staff tent and began to struggle into the thing. “You’re a doll. I knew you’d come around.” Maxie passed the tights over the partition. “Don’t forget these.” Gaia groaned. “Gonna look great with sneakers, huh?” “The Heron Aerobic Genus.” “You have neither soul nor mercy.” There was silence inside the tent for several minutes, interrupted only by the huffing sounds coming from Gaia as she fought to get her legs and arms into the right holes. It was a cleverly made costume, no doubt about it, but a pain in the ass to get straight. Finally—and even wearing the long yellow tights—she emerged, holding her head in her hands. Metaphorically speaking. “So. Whaddya think? Have I got my tail feathers in a twist?” She grinned at Maxie, too excited about the day ahead to worry much about the fact she was dressed like a rather large bird and showing more leg than a turkey on Thanksgiving. “Damn, woman. If I had legs like that, you’d have to fight me for those feathers.” Maxie gazed enviously at Gaia’s thighs. “Only you could make those tights look sexy.” “Yeah, well sexy isn’t the word that comes to mind when you look at the rest of me. I’m starting to feel rather sympathetic toward our feathered friends.” She turned and nearly knocked over a pile of flyers. “Shit. You’d better help me get this stupid head bit into place, then point me out of here before I bring the house down around us.” “You’ll be outside. Lots of room and nothing to knock over.” Maxie lifted the tubular headpiece, avoided taking her own eye out with the long beak and settled it onto Gaia’s head. “Unless I accidentally coldcock a couple of kids.”

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“With feathers? I doubt it.” Maxie arranged the appropriate parts over Gaia’s eyes and mouth. “Can you breathe okay?” “Would it matter if I said no?” “Quit bitchin’, babe. When your picture graces the cover of the Post on Sunday, you’ll thank me.” “It itches.” Gaia whined dramatically. “So scratch.” “Can’t. My hands, in case you didn’t notice, are strapped beneath these wings. The itch I mentioned is inside the costume where I can’t reach it.” “Wriggle then. Tough it out, Gaia. Do it for the birds.” “This whole costume thing is for the birds, if you ask me.” She waddled awkwardly to the opening of the tent and tentatively stuck her beak through, which allowed her face, just below it, to see outside. “Hey.” Her cry of outrage did nothing but bring another giggle to Maxie’s throat. “Hey. There’s people out here in really nice costumes.” Gaia was irate. “Look. There’s a cool swan over there. And an owl. And a frickin’ eagle, goddammit…” “Now, now.” Maxie’s voice was soothing. “You got here a bit late, that’s all. And they grabbed the ones that fit them. You’re far too skinny for the owl one. The eagle one is meant for a man, if you know what I’m sayin’.” Gaia pouted. “Excuses.” She turned, catching her beak on the tent and yanking her headpiece sideways. “Fuck.” “Gaia, get the hell out of here. Go.” Maxie shooed her forward. “Do your thing. There’s more at stake here than your itches and your ego.” Indignantly, Gaia straightened her feathers, yanked her beak back where it was supposed to be and stalked out of the tent. Maxie was gonna get hers. But good.

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However, Gaia’s cheerful nature reasserted itself very rapidly when she became the focus of attention for several awestruck four-year-olds. Not to mention getting more than a few appreciative glances at her legs, yellow tights notwithstanding, from the roving eyes of male passersby. She chatted and passed out flyers in the sunshine, discussing the importance of learning about birds and all the creatures who shared the Earth. She willingly posed for photographs with all the aplomb of a costumed character at a theme park. She waxed eloquent about the destruction of the rain forest and even held a couple of teenagers spellbound as she simply and calmly explained why this was so crucial to everyone’s life. Even theirs. They paid her the ultimate compliment—they turned off their portable music, removed their earbuds and listened as she told them about the chemistry of the air they were breathing and how the tiniest of changes could affect them. Yep, all things considered, it was turning out to be a good day. Even for itchy herons.

***** Ned was enjoying a good day too. He’d whiled away several very happy hours roving the halls of the Smithsonian Institution, battling other tourists ogling the Hope diamond in the jewelry section or whatever it was called, then wandering to the National Gallery and simply letting his feet go where they wanted. He lost himself in the Impressionists, marveled at the Renaissance complexities and generally did all the things a nonartist did in places like this—sat and stared. The thoughtful designers had arranged tasteful seating at the apex of corridors and rooms, so Ned could rest for a bit and be face to face with a larger-than-life portrait of Napoleon Bonaparte watching over him.

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It was a tad unsettling and he moved on to the more appealing naked nymphs and satyrs of the Pre-Raphaelite painters. Not that he was a pervert or anything, but if he was going to sit and absorb artistic culture, he was enough of a guy to prefer it be naked and curvaceous while he was doing it. After a couple of hours he emerged with a greater respect for the Masters, old or not. He bypassed the gift shop, narrowly avoided a flock of schoolkids about to swarm into the place and grinned at another man who was sidestepping a six-year-old on a mission—with a rapidly melting ice-cream cone held in front of him like a jousting lance. Yep. It was just another day for Washington tourists. But it was a day of relaxed pleasure for Ned. Heading toward the open Mall, he detected the pungent scent of food in the air and detoured past a cart where he treated himself to an ice-cold soda, a bag of chips and a hot, salty pretzel. Decadent, totally nonnutritious and mouthwateringly tasty. He considered going back for another one, but fought the impulse. He’d promised himself a good dinner this evening. Best not to spoil it with a barrage of junk food. He grinned as he realized his mom would be so proud of him. A little way away across the grass he spotted a few tents and heard some music. It looked like there was a small fair or something going on—and since he was headed that way to see the World War II Memorial up close, Ned figured he might as well take a closer look. The nearer he got, the more intrigued he became. Small helium balloons in the shapes of birds and animals were glittering in the sky above the two large tents and as Ned approached, the music resolved itself into something hauntingly beautiful and probably Celtic. He wasn’t a huge fan of such stuff, preferring solid rock on his iPod when he remembered to upload something and use it. But somehow, on this day at this moment, the delicate melody seemed right. It mingled with the sunshine, danced over the heads 34

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of the crowd and settled contentedly in his ears, a peacefully delightful soundtrack to a delightful instant in time. Ned found himself smiling as he idled his way around, stopping at one or two tables where vendors were offering handmade crafts—Native American things that sort of looked like decorative embroidery hoops, jewelry gleaming with natural stones, even one stand displaying scarves and other fluffy things knitted, according to the sign, from virgin llama yarn. Refraining from asking the owner if he personally checked whether a llama was a virgin or not, Ned moved on. It was apparently an eco-friendly fair, since there were plenty of people with handfuls of flyers they handed out freely. Whether anybody wanted them or not. Ned found himself with four or five, each extolling the virtues of the planet, detailing the “actual” numbers of species that were endangered—the quotes coming from the handout, since apparently the government didn’t disclose the true magnitude of the problem. He sighed, folded the papers neatly and disposed of them in the nearest trash bin. He was all for a nice day of sun, music and a street fair. He really didn’t want to be converted by some rabid environmentalist, or forced to listen to a rant on how the decimation of the Amazon rainforest would eventually kill all life on Earth. This was information he already knew, had researched and mostly agreed with. However he’d learned that once some of these people got the urge to fix things, they could be worse than a plague of locusts. They’d demand his financial contributions, his personal participation and probably his deodorant, even though it was a solid one, not a spray that could adversely affect the ozone layer. He didn’t have the inclination or the energy to discuss the issue of his deodorant, nor did he want to argue the merits of removing certain chemical components from aerosol sprays. Been there, done that and most of the sprays these days had converted to pump action dispersal mechanisms anyway. 35

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Ned was well aware that humans were environmentally unfriendly, overall. He did his part and when given the chance encouraged others to do the same. He just wasn’t a fanatic about it, preferring to think his small involvement on a person-to-person basis would achieve much the same result as any forceful group pressure. And piss off a lot fewer of his friends. His thoughts wandered, as did his footsteps, darting this way and that without conscious effort. For once he was able to simply relax, both mentally and physically, and it was a wonderful sensation. His job left little downtime for his brain and the past few days had been stressed to the max, requiring one hundred and ten percent of his focus for damn near twenty-four hours a day. There were several costumed characters amongst the visitors—an improbably fluffy swan, a very nicely done eagle, some sort of owl he couldn’t identify and what looked like a hugely tall guy in a heron suit. No, make that a girl. Ned had yet to see a guy with thighs quite that shapely. He grinned to himself then turned away, his eye caught by the glitter of sunshine on an array of wind chimes. Now there was something he might pick up, since his mother had a weakness for them, to the eternal affectionate annoyance of his father. And it would seriously irritate their cat. Ned was allergic to the cat, disliked its attitude and the feeling was mutual. He stopped and looked over the selection, seeing several that were really quite beautifully made. Two children whooped and began to run toward him, obviously expecting him to get out of their way as they tore past. He did, stumbling a little and catching his foot on the grass at the edge of the path. He also slammed into somebody behind him—or something? Something very soft and pliable. Rocking and staggering in a fruitless effort to catch his balance, Ned fell, a flailing mixture of arms and legs—and feathers? He landed, winded, flat on his back and opened his eyes to see… 36

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His dream. His nightmare. A large grey-feathered heron was straddling him. Sitting right on top of his crotch. Ned blinked and said the first word that came into his head. “Gandewitha…” His world turned black.

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Chapter Four “He hit his head. He must’ve hit his head. He blacked out—” Gaia hopped frantically from foot to foot, her heron’s beak tossed to the ground beside the EMT who was helping the tall man to his feet. That would be the tall man she’d just fallen on top of, ending up with her intimate parts pressed—er—intimately against his. A tiny part of her brain registered the fact that this guy was packing a nice set of tools beneath his belt. The rest of her brain was worried sick he might have done himself an injury and sue her or something. If he was a lawyer she was in deep shit. “I did not hit my head.” He growled the words again as he stood, wavering a little. “Okay, buddy. So you won’t mind my confirming that, will you?” The EMT led him firmly across the grass to the open doors of the ambulance and encouraged him to sit. “I did not hit anything, honestly.” The man once more affirmed the intact state of his skull. “You must have.” Gaia interrupted him. “You blacked out. I distinctly saw your eyes roll back in your head.” He snorted rudely. “Shock. That’s all it was. I’ve never experienced assault by an avian before.” Fuck. He was a lawyer. “I did not assault you.” Gaia shot back her response indignantly. “What do you call knocking me down and sitting on me? If that’s how you say hello down here, I’m not surprised nothing ever gets done on Capitol Hill.”

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“Sir. At the risk of being impolite, would you shut up for a minute?” The EMT shone a penlight into the man’s angry eyes and checked his pupils. “It was an accident.” Gaia flapped her wings around. “Ma’am, that shut up goes for you as well.” The edge of impatience in the EMT’s voice effectively silenced Gaia. For a moment or two. She was shaking from the surprise tumble they’d both taken and the really painful whack she’d given one of her knees. Her body was still tingling with the aftereffects of having her sensitive parts crushed by other parts—very male parts. But what had hammered into her brain and sent every muscle she had into the shudders was one word. That one word he’d spoken before his eyes had rolled and he’d passed out. Gandewitha. How could he know that name? Gaia bit her tongue, trying not to pepper him with questions until the EMT declared him fit to answer them. “Is it a concussion? You think he needs an X-ray or an MRI to check for a skull fracture or something?” She couldn’t stand the awful silence. With a loud sigh, the EMT stashed the tools of his trade back in his kit. “He’s fine. I can’t even feel anything in the way of a bump.” Gaia sagged with relief. “Thank the Lord.” “I reckon you should probably keep an eye on him for an hour or so.” The EMT turned to his patient. “If you’re feeling lousy, I can run you over to GW Hospital and have the ER check you out…” “God, no. I’m fine. Really.” The man slid from the back of the ambulance and looked relieved. “If I get nauseous or start seeing double, I’ll get help, okay?” He held out his hand to the EMT. “Thanks, pal. I appreciate it and I’m sorry for the bother.” A

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stern brown gaze darted Gaia’s way. “This’ll teach me to watch where I’m going in future. You never know when you’re gonna get trampled by a six-foot bird.” Gaia’s fists clenched as she placed her hands where her hips were usually found. Of course, right now all she did was clamp on to a couple of handfuls of feathers, which probably lessened the impact of the gesture, but what the hell. “Now listen, mister—” “Ned.” “What?” “My name. It’s Ned.” “Oh.” Gaia blinked, then returned to her original train of thought. “Okay. Listen, Mr. Ned…” “Harper. Ned Harper. You might as well get it right. And you are?” Gaia swallowed as the ambulance moved away, leaving them staring at each other in the sunshine. She took a breath. “Gaia Jackson. I’m very relieved you sustained no injury. And I certainly apologize for walking behind you when you were about to fall down. Had I known, I certainly would have gotten out of your way. Unfortunately, this is an environmental support rally, not a fair for psychics.” She tried hard to keep the sarcastic edge to a minimum. “I would like to go on record as saying that at no time did I intend to cause you personal injury. That this whole thing was an accident—wait a minute…” Her voice trailed off. “Did you say Ned Harper?” He grinned. “Yes.” “As in Dr. Edward Harper?” The grin faded a little. “Uh, yeah. Why?” “You’re not a lawyer?” “Hell no.” An expression of horror crossed his face.

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Gaia stared intently at him. “Would you be the Dr. Harper who authored a very concise paper on the current state of crop rotation in various African countries and its contribution to the potential for future famine?” Ned blinked. “Holy shit.” “Aha.” Gaia looked smug. “It is you.” “You read that?” He looked absolutely astounded. “You actually read that?” “Yes.” She nodded. “It was very insightful. I think you glossed over the complications of the political situation there though.” Ned frowned. “It wasn’t a political piece.” “I know, but still…” She absently rubbed her knee. “Look, let’s find a place to sit down for a moment. You must have banged up your legs pretty hard when you landed on me.” “You mean when you fell on me.” “Whatever.” He rolled his eyes and led her to a conveniently vacant bench. Gaia allowed him to gently push her down and carefully wiggled her tail feathers so that she wouldn’t crush them too much. Her costume didn’t allow for elegant sitting positions, unfortunately, so she had to make do with a rather ungainly pose, yellow thighs spread a lot wider than she was comfortable with. She shrugged it off. Herons didn’t cross their legs much anyway. Questions still seethed through her brain, but now that the adrenaline had subsided a little, she found herself hesitant to ask the big one. She skittered around it. “So what brings you to DC?” “Business.” He seemed a little uncomfortable with the question as he sat down next to her, a respectful distance away from the sizeable wingspan she was wielding every time she gestured with a hand. “Here. You forgot this, by the way.” He’d picked up her headpiece.

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“Thanks.” She put it next to her. “It’s a relief to be out of it, actually. This thing itches like crazy.” Tenacious to the core, she returned to the topic at hand. “What kind of business, Ned?” His face fell into polite lines, revealing nothing of his inner thoughts. “My business, Gaia.” “Ouch. That puts me in my place doesn’t it?” She grinned at him shamelessly, then her eyes widened and the smile faded. “Shit. You’re here for those hearings, aren’t you?” He leaned back against the slats of the bench and said nothing, merely looking away from her out over the throng. “You picked a perfect day for this rally. Good crowd here. Lots of interest.” Biting back her questions, Gaia nodded. She was being extremely rude, she knew, prying into his business. But there was something about this Ned Harper that had resounded inside her and the fact he’d spoken a particular word—known that particular name—she felt like she knew him. Intimately. And it was loosening her tongue a lot more than was usual for her. She took a couple of breaths. “Well, we could discuss the weather, I suppose. Or the enthusiasm of the people for the environment. We might even touch on the current state of the theater scene.” She kept her tone light. “Or we could talk about the elephant sharing this bench with us.” “Huh?” He raised an eyebrow at her, head swiveling at her odd comment. “The elephant. The third party sharing this conversation.” “Er…I don’t get it…” Gaia leaned forward—cautiously. Falling flat on her face again at this moment would not be a good idea. “I’m talking about the word you spoke before you passed out.”

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“What word?” Deny everything. Ned had heard that expression before, but until now hadn’t really had the need to use it. “You know.” Gaia got an odd look on her face, a blend of curiosity and something resembling fear. “Gandewitha.” “I never said that.” “Did too.” He snorted. “I think I probably said get off me. You misheard.” “Did not.” Her posture and her tone were both adamant. “I heard exactly what you said before you fainted.” “Hey. Men don’t faint.” He glared at her. “You didn’t hit your head, so you said. But you were out of it there for a little bit. I reckon you fainted.” “Did not.” Gaia sighed. “This is getting us nowhere in a hurry.” She moved a little closer. “What tribe do you have in your heritage?” Ned chewed that one over as he stared at her. Long black hair tumbled from an untidy knot and he was willing to bet it probably brushed her ass when loose. Her eyes were darker than chocolate and just as seductive. Her genes were evident in the high cheekbones and slender body, not to mention the mouthwatering legs that went on forever… Yep, she could well have filled in for his dream maiden. She wasn’t the same woman, but the attraction was there. The sensuality was there. The sex… Ned clenched his teeth against a sharp pang of lust that hardened his cock, dragging his mind away from visions of the two of them naked and sweaty and back to the conversation. “I have no idea. My mother’s family was originally French. My father’s a Yankee through and through. I’m your all-American mutt.”

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Gaia laughed and shook her head. “And you’re lying through your teeth. One look in your mirror and you gotta know there’s a hefty dollop of some Native American tribe in your genetic makeup.” She tipped her head to one side. “Does the name Nohnohsot sound familiar?” For a millisecond or two, Ned Harper’s world dimmed, turning cool and hushed, sending shivers up his spine to raise the hairs on the back of his neck. He didn’t know the name, didn’t recognize it on a conscious level, but something in the dark recesses of his brain responded to it. He wasn’t sure he liked what was happening here. But he was intrigued by it, all the same. In typical male fashion, he said the first words that came into his mind. “Have dinner with me?” Gaia looked at him consideringly, her eyes reflecting a million emotions he couldn’t put a name to, but could see, plain as day. Everything around them, the noise of voices and music, the brilliant sunshine, even the landmarks of Washington, faded away—it was as if there was just the two of them in the whole world for that moment. Ned held his breath, scared to break whatever spell this was between them. He watched the tiny ripples course over her throat as she swallowed. “Yes.” Driven by some internal current he was helpless to withstand, Ned locked gazes with her and spoke once more, surprising both of them. “Spend the night with me?” He hadn’t meant to say it, didn’t know what had gotten into him and regretted the question as soon as it was out there. But somehow, in spite of its inappropriateness, it seemed—right. Gaia didn’t move, still as a semi-feathered statue, her brown eyes fixed on his face. Ned held his breath again for long seconds until she finally answered. “Maybe.”

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A burst of noise brought Ned back to earth and he jumped a little, almost glad that the moment had passed. “Jeez, I’m sorry. That was out of line. Way out of line.” Embarrassed beyond belief, he passed his hand across his face and looked away. She said something strange. “Not for us, Nohnohsot. Not for us.” Before he could pursue it, however, a shout distracted them both. “Hey, Gaia.” A diminutive blonde was bearing down on them, ample breasts bobbing beneath a snug tank top. She was lusciously curved, all of five foot-two or so and had a look on her face that told Ned clearly she was irritated about something. She was every man’s dream, pissed off or not. And he didn’t feel a thing. Nothing. All he could focus on was the woman in the heron costume. I must have bird flu. Or bird lust. Or something equally sick. “Did you try to fix me up with some guy named Charlie?” She glared at Gaia who grinned back. Ned stood. “Hi. I’m Ned Harper. Nice to meet you.” “Yeah. Likewise.” The blonde bombshell barely glanced at him. “Well, did you? You wretch?” Gaia stood and fluffed her feathers. Really. Ned was fascinated, not realizing that feather-fluffing could be a natural talent unrestricted to birds. Wisely, however, he refrained from making that observation. “Yes. Charlie’s a nice guy. Give him a break, okay?” She grinned. “Maxie, this is Ned Harper.” She paused. “He’s taking me to dinner.” Maxie paused at that piece of news and took a longer look at Ned. Ned looked back steadily. “Reeealllly.” There was a wealth of expression in Maxie’s single word that spoke volumes. “Yes, really.” Gaia tapped one foot. “Anything else?”

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The blonde’s eyes twinkled as she chuckled. “Nope. Not a damn thing. Except we’re nearly out of the endangered species flyers…” Ned took the hint and glanced at Gaia. “So, should I meet you here? You want me to pick you up? Or what? I have a reservation at the Prime Rib on K Street for seven tonight. I’ll make it for two, if that’s okay with you?” Gaia thought for a moment, then nodded. “Let me meet you there. I need to go change and defeather myself.” She chuckled. “No birdseed, please.” He chuckled back. “Herons eat fish.” “Riiiiiight.” “I’ll see you around seven, then.” He turned to the other woman, who was watching them both interestedly. “Nice to meet you, Maxie. Good luck with the endangered species.” “Thanks. Likewise, Ned. Enjoy your evening.” Ned nodded at them both and turned away, but not before hearing Maxie’s next words. “So give, my friend. What’s with the tall dude?” He just managed to catch Gaia’s answer. “I think he may be the man of my dreams.”

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Chapter Five Gaia was mildly irritated with herself for doing more than her fair share of clockwatching for the rest of the afternoon. The enjoyment she’d felt at being part of the rally had shattered with one look from a pair of deep brown eyes. The savage lightning strike of sexual arousal she’d experienced when she’d landed crotch-to-crotch with a stranger still stunned her. Intense and fiery, she’d wanted nothing more than to grind her pussy into his cock and come. Right there and then. In public, yet. His body felt—right—like it belonged between her thighs and always had. Once again she surreptitiously lifted a wing and took a quick glance at the watch concealed by the overlying feathers. It was nearly time to start packing things up. It wouldn’t take more than an hour or so to get home, clean up and head out for K Street. And him. Was it possible he channeled Nohnohsot or something equally weird? How else could he have known the name Gandewitha? The questions plagued her as she absently began the process of breaking down the rally stuff and after she’d misplaced yet another batch of flyers, Maxie tapped her on the shoulder. “Sweetie, we’ll get this done a lot quicker if you stop helping.” “Shit. Sorry.” Gaia winced. “My mind’s a bit scattered right now, if you wanna know the truth.” “Can’t say I blame you.” Maxie grinned naughtily. “I’ve got a date with Charlie and it’s distracting me as well. But not as much as your date, that’s for sure. Go home, babe. We can finish up here.”

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Gratefully, Gaia looked at her friend. “You’re an angel. It was a good day, Maxie. Wings notwithstanding.” “Yep. A lot of fun. Good stuff. We’ll do it again. Now go change and go home. Have a great date. Screw his brains out.” “Uhh…” Maxie giggled. “You two were striking sparks off each other, no doubt about it. It’s time you got a few of the kinks out, honey. He looks like just the guy to do it.” Gaia shrugged. “Dunno. We’ll see.” It was the best answer she could come up with, both for herself and for Maxie. All the way home, she couldn’t think of a better one. Even after she’d showered and dug something presentable out of her closet, Gaia still couldn’t figure out what the attraction was, other than Ned was an extremely hot-looking man who was interested in her. Isn’t that enough? Strangely, Gaia could answer that question without hesitation. No, it wasn’t enough. Not usually. Not for her. She’d had plenty of dates. A couple of serious affairs. But nothing had ever rocked her world like those few seconds on top of Ned Harper. As she stroked on the light coating of makeup that constituted her beauty regime, Gaia realized that, somewhere in her subconscious, she’d always sought something that might come close to her dream passions. A mysterious component within her companions that would unleash the heated desires she shared in those dreams of hers. Until now, until this oddly fractured afternoon, nothing had. Pausing by the front door to her apartment, Gaia stared at herself in the mirror over the low table where she habitually put her keys. Her hair hung loosely down her back, a wash of shadows over the white silk tunic she’d slipped on. It was comfortable, had long sleeves in case the restaurant was cool and managed to be both practical and elegant. Her black silk skirt was a favorite piece,

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always bolstering her confidence, since few people who weren’t as tall as she was could wear it well. Slim at the hips, it flared around her ankles, revealing her strappy sandals and bare feet. Gaia realized she had to look up to meet Ned’s gaze—a pleasant change for a woman her height—so she’d reached for these high-heeled sandals without hesitation. She was excited, nervous and just a little apprehensive about this whole evening. He’d made his intentions clear, bluntly and without pretense. He wanted her. And Gaia met the somber gaze of her own reflection as she acknowledged her feelings. She wanted him right back. There was a simmering sensation low in her belly and her nipples hardened at the mere thought of his fingers touching them. Desire curled deep inside her, a desire she was afraid would sharpen into desperate need by the end of this night. Gaia choked it down, forcing herself to ignore it. She was not one to leap into bed with a guy on the first date. Never had been—it wasn’t part of her character. There had to be an attraction, a slow building of sexual interest combined with other things that appealed to her. Whether Ned Harper possessed those intangible somethings remained to be seen. She reached for her colorful wrap, tossed it around her shoulders and gathered it snugly, not unlike a Native American shawl. Flames of orange and purple fluttered into deeper tones of aqua and midnight blue, splashing brilliance across her otherwise sober outfit. There. She was ready. It wouldn’t take more than ten minutes to walk over to K Street and the Prime Rib. Gaia knew the restaurant, since it was one of the renowned eateries where politicians liked to meet, greet and be photographed coming out of— although most often not with the lobbyists who could afford to foot their dinner bills.

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Wryly, Gaia smiled at herself as she closed the door behind her. This was quite an event for her. Dining amongst the elite of Washington’s power brokers. And the tourists who wanted to do the same thing. The traffic had followed its usual pattern, subsiding drastically now that the evening was approaching and she walked to the intersection of 22nd without a check, turning onto L Street, where she would head down 21st and pick up K street. The restaurant was on that block. She could’ve taken a cab, but the air was lovely and the walk gave her time to settle her emotions. This was just a date, she reminded herself as her heels clattered nicely on the sidewalk. A simple dinner with somebody who she found attractive. Liar, liar. Her conscience shook its finger at her and smirked nastily. He knows your dream name. Idly, she stood and waited for the crossing light to count down the seconds— conveniently informing pedestrians of how much time they had to get their butts across the street before being run over. When her turn arrived, she was safely across well within her allotted safety window, her long legs eating up the distance with ease. A walker by nature, Gaia had found Washington to be her nirvana in many ways—the obvious concern for the welfare of its pedestrians was one of them. She needed no car of her own, although on rare occasions she rented a Zipcar to take a trip out of town when the mood hit her. It was convenient—she paid by the hour—and she’d taken a few nice rides through Virginia last spring. For the rest of the time, there was the Metro or her own two feet. She didn’t need a date to have a fancy car, nor was she impressed if he did. Gaia wondered why the hell she was cataloging the virtues of her dates when she should be thinking about the best way to ask this one why he knew her dream name. The issue had to come up, had to be discussed, no two ways about it. It was too coincidental to be ignored.

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Still trying to work that one out, Gaia reached the tasteful entrance to the Prime Rib, took a deep breath and walked inside. After a brief chat with the host, she spotted Ned at a table toward the rear and headed toward him. “Gaia, my dear.” A voice hailed her. “How lovely to see you and how lovely you look.” She was being addressed by a short, rotund little man, rising from his chair as she passed. She recognized him immediately. “Congressman, this is nice. Fancy running into you.” She leaned down and accepted the paternal hug, patting him on the shoulder. Congressman Marshall was a staunch supporter of environmental causes, a regular visitor to the NCRS and a genuinely nice guy. His wife smiled at Gaia from across an expanse of blindingly white tablecloth. “Hello, honey. You get prettier every day.” “Thanks, Heather. You’re very kind.” Gaia grinned back. She’d seen photos of their newest grandchild only a couple of days before. “How’s the littlest one doing?” “Don’t get her started.” The Congressman grimaced comically. “Join us for a drink?” Gaia shook her head. “Can’t, I’m afraid. I have an—er—engagement.” She looked over at Ned, who had noticed her and was nodding her way. She nodded back. The Congressman followed her gaze. “Hmm. Isn’t that Ned Harper?” Gaia blinked. “Yes, it is, as a matter of fact. I met him this afternoon.” “Nice lad. Very bright.” His voice was noncommittal. “You know him?” Gaia tilted her head to one side. “Well, not really.” The Congressman looked at Gaia. “Although I will say that you’re possibly fraternizing with the enemy, my dear.” “Damn.” Gaia frowned. “He testified, didn’t he?” Both of them knew exactly what she was talking about—the Budget bill hearings.

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The Congressman sighed. “I wouldn’t call it testifying. He presented a very solidly researched report to several of the Committees. But he presented it on behalf of Greenwood Resources.” “Oh.” Gaia swallowed. “Them.” “Yes. Them.” The Congressman patted her on the shoulder once more and sat down. “Mind you, he wasn’t all rapture and stupidity. He didn’t push their agenda or sing their praises. He simply reported the facts.” “The facts that Greenwood wanted presented.” Gaia wrinkled her nose. “He’s a smart man, dear. And he seems a nice one too. Just be careful, all right? A little fatherly advice from one tree-hugging hippie to another.” The Congressman chuckled at his own joke. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” Gaia forced her lips back into a smile. “You both have a lovely evening, okay?” “Bye, Gaia.” Heather waved her water glass. “Try the shrimp cocktail. It’s divine beyond belief.” Gaia moved away and headed toward the rear of the restaurant, her thoughts churning over each other, even as her eyes were dazzled by the preponderance of black, gilt and amazingly folded napkins. Ned was rising from his seat and the ever-attentive waiter pulled out the black leather chair as she neared the table. She flashed him a smile of thanks and slid into it, allowing him to push it behind her knees in that particularly unsettling way that waiters seem to possess in abundance. “Hi.” Ned’s expression was happy as he sat back down. “Glad you made it.” “May I fetch you something from the bar?” The opulent—and enormous—menu appeared in front of her as the waiter looked—attentive. Again. Gaia took a breath and nodded. “Vodka martini, please. Pass on the olives and onions.”

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“I’ll be right back.” She leaned back and took her first good look at Ned. “Oh, my.” Her gaze slid over his grey suit, his spotless white shirt and conservative tie. “You clean up nice, Dr. Harper.” And he did. His dark hair shone softly in the muted light of the restaurant even as his brown eyes glowed with some emotion she couldn’t quite put a name to. Appreciation, she hoped, perhaps seasoned with a dash of lust—or maybe that was her projecting her own state of mind right at that moment. “And you look even better without the feathers and the beak.” He grinned. “I will confess they weren’t exactly a fashion statement. And they itched too.” She grinned back, then looked around. “This is quite lovely, isn’t it?” “You haven’t been here before?” “Nope. This really isn’t a place people pop down to on a whim.” Her gaze roamed over the elegant surroundings, noting the surprisingly subtle leopard-skin pattern of the carpet that perfectly complemented the black wood wainscoting and the gilt ornamentation edging the many mirrors in the room. The designers had really hit a home run with this one. “And yet, you have friends here.” Ned nodded back the way she’d come in. “Wasn’t that a congressman you were talking to?” Gaia’s martini appeared as if by magic in front of her and the waiter promised to return when they’d had chance to peruse the leather-bound menus. She took a sip and sighed with pleasure. “Yeah, that was Congressman Marshall. The Ohio fourteenth, I think. Nice man. He’s very supportive of environmental issues.” “Ah. I thought I recognized him.” Gaia stared at Ned over the rim of her martini. She could get into it with him right now, right this minute. Begin the debate on the issues of the environment and clearly define where they both stood—which was apparently on opposite sides.

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Or she could just enjoy her evening with one hellaciously handsome man. Hmm. Decisions, decisions…

***** Ned wished he knew her well enough to read the variety of expressions that shone in her luminous eyes. She was sizing him up, maybe trying to read him, or perhaps regretting she’d accepted the invitation. He didn’t know and wasn’t happy about it. Nerves plagued him—another thing he wasn’t too happy about, since he hadn’t been nervous on a date in years. But this one was important, different in some way he couldn’t put a name to. All in all, he was unsettled, edgy and—as soon as he’d set eyes on her tall slender figure wending its way toward him—horny as a teenager. She set his sexual fuses alight just by looking at him. He knew his goose was well and truly cooked. He just didn’t know if it was going to be perfectly done or burnt to a cinder by this woman. He finished his beer. “Thanks for coming, Gaia. I wasn’t sure if you would.” Something inside her seemed to relax and she eased back in her chair. “Are you kidding? A gorgeous restaurant, the chance of a great steak, the company of a very good-looking guy—do I look that stupid?” He laughed. “No. And I’m glad to hear you want a steak. I was a bit worried you might be a vegan and thus offended by my choice of eateries.” The conversation turned to food and Ned found himself relaxing as well. They placed their orders—hers for the filet steak she declared herself pining for, along with his for the house specialty, the rib eye. Tentatively, they explored each other’s interests, likes and dislikes, finding they shared much in common even before their appetizers were finished.

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Ned caught himself watching her intently, noticing every movement of her mobile features, every glimmer of a smile that curled around her lips, or every laugh that rang out happily from her throat. He watched her hair as it slithered around her shoulders, her eyes as they met his so fearlessly, her hands as she waved them around while making a point, all in all, he was—to use a phrase from one of his mother’s romance novels—enraptured with Gaia. As if by mutual accord, they steered clear of anything controversial for a while, sticking to topics that could easily have been discussed by anybody. They swapped slices of entrees, Gaia blinking at the size of the prime rib, and he took a good-sized portion of her key lime pie to add to his own dessert choice. Finally, they leaned back over their coffee and Ned realized the piano player had selected something soft and bluesy—a nice complement to a meal that had truly been delectable. “I’d like to dance with you.” He smiled at her. “Because I’m tall?” She raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t hurt. We probably shared the same height issues growing up. I was almost permanently stooped from dating average-height women and you…well, it must have been a challenge, to say the least.” She chuckled comfortably. “It was. You’d be surprised how many shorter guys hit on me simply because when we danced a slow dance, they’d find their noses right about…”she looked down at her cleavage, “there.” “Don’t blame ‘em.” Ned followed her gaze appreciatively. Gaia put her cup carefully back onto the saucer and sighed. “Ned, this has been a fabulous meal, but I don’t think I can hold off my questions any longer.” “Questions?” “About the dreams.”

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Ned stayed silent, watching her, wondering about things over which he had no control, no point of reference. He didn’t know where to begin or even if this was a discussion they should bother having—it was too freaky, too New Age for his practical turn of mind. “Please, Ned.” She reached out and touched his arm, a fleeting brush of her fingertips, but enough to send heat through his body. “I’ve had these dreams for my entire life. They’re not something strange or stupid. They are part of who I am.” She was intense now, eyes wide and pupils dark as she stared across the table, a delicate flush of color tinting her skin to hues of peach and rose. “We need to talk about it. I need to know how you know…how you know that name. Gandewitha.” She squeezed his wrist. “That’s my name, Ned. I am Gandewitha.” Ned nodded. “Not here, though.” He beckoned the waiter, passed over his credit card, did things with slips of paper and pens and eventually led Gaia from the restaurant back out into the night. “Let’s walk.” He breathed in a lungful of air. “If we’re going to talk about this crazy stuff, might as well do it under the stars.” A spot of rain spattered on his nose. “Or not.”

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Chapter Six He hurried her down K Street from awning to awning, arriving at his hotel just before the skies opened, drenching the mostly quiet roads. Laughing and out of breath, they hurried inside, past the incredibly ornate columns and marble of the foyer and up to Ned’s luxurious little suite. “Sorry about that. I didn’t expect rain after such a great afternoon.” He closed the door behind them, shutting them into their own private world. “Not a problem. It happens.” Gaia shook out her floaty jacket and laid it out across a chair like the slightly damp wings of a brilliant butterfly, while Ned took off his coat and tie with a sigh of relief. She turned to him, her lips parted as if to speak. Ned looked at her and damn near stumbled as a bolt of heat arced between them, a high-voltage jolt of sheer lust that could easily have blown his shoes off or powered a small mid-West town for a week. “Gaia.” He murmured her name, his mouth watering for a taste of her, his body aching for the touch of her flesh. “Yeah. I know. I feel it too.” He held out his arms and she walked into them as she had in his dreams, willingly, without a moment’s hesitation. He slid a hand behind her, pulling their bodies together, his palm sliding up beneath her shirt. Ned was desperate to feel that smooth skin he knew he would find there, all heat and softness, his dream of touching her now becoming a reality. Pressing her close, his heart pounded as her curves molded themselves to his chest, a thundering heartbeat that was echoed by the pulse he could see fluttering at the base of her neck as he pushed her long hair away from her shoulders. Lowering his lips to hers, Ned kissed her, exploring her mouth, learning her taste, her warmth, her sweetness all over again. 57

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Gaia moaned a little, sighing into his embrace, reaching for him with arms that slipped around him and tightened hungrily as she thrust her tongue past his lips, dueling with him, urging him to devour her even as she devoured him back. It was their first kiss—but it was so much more. It was like coming home. Ned felt the taut buds of her nipples as they hardened against him and his cock pushed solidly into the softness of her belly. So tall and so perfect for him, Gaia moved gently, rubbing herself over him like a cat, as desperate as he for this moment. He wrenched his mouth from hers, panting as he grabbed handfuls of her silky top and tugged it upward. “Please, Gaia…” He wasn’t even sure what he was asking. “Yes, Ned, oh, yes…” She pulled free of her shirt and launched herself at his buttons, pulling the halves apart to reveal his chest. “Oh, yes…” She dipped her head and kissed him, then ran her tongue around one of his nipples, making him groan. “God, when you do that…” “It’s so good. You taste so good…” Urgently now, she pulled him free of his clothes and reached for his pants. “Wait…” Ned gripped her wrists. “Let’s do this right…” He walked her backward from the little living room into the bedroom, fumbling with the catch on her bra as he did so. By the time they reached the bed, her breasts were bare and he had his mouth on her, suckling one rosy peak, delighting in the familiar tang of her skin as he ran his tongue over her and she shivered with pleasure. “Now, sweetheart…” He found the fastening on her skirt and freed her at the very moment she unzipped his pants and pulled them apart, delving past the waistband of his underwear and cupping his ass.

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“God, I love your ass…” Gaia squeezed him, a caress that made Ned’s balls shudder as his cock burst free. They were both naked within seconds, reaching for each other once more, lips clashing this time in a fiery explosion of need. For Ned, it was a miracle. Everything he’d experienced in his dreams was coming true at the touch of this amazing woman. He was harder than steel, desperate to sink himself into her cunt and stay there for as long as he could stand it without coming. He wanted her screaming for him as she’d done in his visions, screaming his name as she came, squeezing his cock with a ferocity that drove him almost insane with lust. But first, he wanted to really taste her. To savor the moments before he claimed her, to explore the territory he knew so well. To make sure she didn’t have any feathers anywhere that might appear when she orgasmed. Just to be on the safe side. The line between reality and his fantasies was blurring rapidly as he pushed her down and spread her thighs wide apart. And there—there was the pussy he’d relished in his dream, all shiny and rosy and swollen, just screaming for him to put his mouth there. Ned’s mouth watered. He knew how she would taste. Sweet and tangy, wet with the juices his touch had coaxed from her cunt. He knew where her clit was, how it hid shyly away until his tongue urged it to emerge and allow him to lavish his skills on it. It was all so familiar to him, yet it was all so new. And it was all far beyond anything he’d ever imagined. As if somebody had delved deep into his subconscious desires…

And made Gaia’s dreams come true. The minute he’d looked at her with such heat and longing in his eyes, she’d been lost. When he’d held out his arms, she’d had no other choice but to walk into them, to

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plaster herself against his body, to kiss him with all the emotions she’d accumulated over the years of imagining exactly this moment. This man. Her man. Her warrior, Nohnohsot. The man who had haunted her sleeping mind for so long he felt like an extension of her own thoughts, her own fantasies. When the skin of his hand found her naked back, she burned with it, fired by the heat flashing between them. Willingly, she stepped backward as he urged her to the bed, cursing her clothes and his for getting in the way of her touching all of him. She wanted to lick him from head to foot, not just his chest and that sensitive nipple. He tasted like a favorite treat, a memory of flavorful sensations that lingered at the back of her tongue long after her dreams had ended. When he spread her thighs wide and thrust his face between them, she nearly shrieked aloud with the pleasure of it. It had been good between them in her subconscious wanderings. In the flesh, it was—incredible. The heat rose inside her, billowing through her veins as she fell into Ned’s lips, Ned’s mouth, Ned’s tongue…reality blurred into fantasy and there could easily have been grass beneath her spine and a night sky overhead instead of soft sheets and a hotel room ceiling. She sensed his every move, felt his hair rubbing her thighs, his hands grasping her buttocks hard in that way she adored. It was all new, but all familiar. And strange—and totally wonderful. “Jesus…” She moaned the word as she trembled on the edge of an orgasm, her legs taut around his head. “Not yet.” He pulled away. “There is more.” Opening her eyes, Gaia looked at his face, the shine from her own juices dappling his mouth, the fire of his desire coloring his cheeks with a deep flush. “I know.”

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“Shit.” He blinked. “I need a condom.” The bed shifted as he moved off it and fumbled in the pocket of his pants. “I know I put a couple in here someplace.” There was a muttered oath, the sound of foil tearing and then the bed dipped once more. “Okay. Now, my Indian maiden…” “That was quick.” She let her head fall back onto the pillow. “I’m trying not to be in a hurry. But fuck, I’m in a hurry to be inside you.” He levered himself over her and stared down into her eyes. “A real big hurry.” “Then do it, my warrior. Do it like you always do. Hard and fast.” Gaia licked her lips, as needy as he was. Her cunt was already trembling in anticipation, an empty ache growing deep within her that only his cock could ease. He nudged her then, pressing between her swollen folds, teasing her a little with the delicate pace of his penetration. “Fuck me, for Chrissake…” A rough laugh answered her words. “I will. You must be patient.” Gaia hissed as he moved forward another inch and lifted her legs to his hips, angling herself to encourage him. “I want you, you know how much I want you—” “Tell me.” Another minor thrust, another inch of her stretched in welcome. “I want your cock filling me, dammit. I want you taking me, pushing me, driving me the way you always do…” “In your dreams?” “Yessss…” Gaia sobbed out the word as Ned slid even deeper into her slick passage. “Oh God, yesssss…” He thrust hard then, slamming himself home, doing as she asked—filling her, forcing her body backward a little on the bed as he drove all the way into her. “Like that?”

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Words failed her. She could only sigh with relief and surrender to the incredible feeling of a real cock, a real length of wondrous flesh buried in her cunt. Ned stilled for a moment and Gaia slowly opened her eyes to look at him. He was taut, muscles ridged and trembling as he held his body slightly apart from hers. His eyelids were heavy with passion and his gaze fixed on her face. “One thing…” The words were soft, his voice rough as he whispered them. “What?” She wriggled, trying to get her body against as much of his as she could. “You’re not planning on turning into a bird or anything, are you?” “Huh?” “Just wanted to check.” “I hadn’t planned on it.” She clenched her inner muscles and noted with pleasure the grimace of desire that crossed Ned’s features. “I might do a little flying, though.” She released him, then tensed once more. “If you’d fucking move…” He moved. He slid out, then back inside her, slowly at first, then faster, murmuring words that would have made no sense even if she could have made them out over the thudding of her own heart. Within moments, he was pounding himself against her, his groin pushing into her clit with each stroke, his cock ramming into her cunt, his body arched and frantic to finish this sexual race. Gaia met his every move with ones of her own. Her thighs tightened around him, her ankles locking behind his spine in an attempt to hold him deep, to fill that void that had remained untouched by reality for too long. She grasped his forearms, nails digging into the muscles that bulged, refusing to let go even when he shifted and locked his fingers around her hipbones. She rode with him, a madly exquisite journey down a path neither had traveled before, but both knew intimately.

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It was the ultimate fulfillment of every fantasy, every dream she could remember. Even the tickles and tingles that heralded the beginnings of her orgasm were familiar, old friends visiting new places, remembered sensations made real. Gaia faded from the real world and drifted into one that held only her and Ned— Gandewitha and Nohnohsot—lovers for eternity. She moaned and sighed and eventually tensed into trembling rigidity as her orgasm broke and swept over her like a crashing wave beating against the rocks of the shore. She was the shore—Ned was the ocean. He followed her, a roughly choked groan of completion erupting from his throat as he plunged into her one last time and stayed there—throbbing and pulsing within her so violently she could feel every movement of his sheathed cock, every twitch, every spurt of his seed. She milked him, her own spasms matching his, a climax that shocked her with its savage battering sensations, her cunt caressing his cock, shivering around it as she lost her breath to the pleasure. Her peak seemed to last a lifetime, an eternity of floating on some plateau of soft insanity, rippling around the blend of bodies, the merging of souls. She wondered if she’d passed out. But no, there was Ned, collapsing exhaustedly onto her body and sighing hot breath around one softening nipple. Almost as an afterthought, he swiped it with his tongue in passing. “Mmmm.” Gaia shivered as his touch sent aftershocks directly to her clit. “Yeah. I second that.” She reached for his head, gently sifting the black hair through her fingers while she waited for the rest of her body to sort itself out into the correct arrangement of bits and pieces. “Am I squashing you?” His shoulders shifted.

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“Don’t move. Please don’t move. Not for a minute or so.” Her fingers tightened against his scalp, holding his head tucked into her neck. She loved this—the softly damp aftermath of passion, the scent of sex wreathing them, his cock still deep inside her although not stretching her anymore, just there, a reminder that they were joined. “Ned?” She whispered his name. “Mmm?” He nuzzled her skin. “About the dreams…” Gaia felt his chest rise and fall as he sighed. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.” She settled herself comfortably as he eased away from her body and slid from the bed. There were the usual bathroom noises, then he returned, slipping into the bed next to her and covering them both with the sheet. “Okay. The dreams.” He waited. Gaia curled into him. “I’ve had them as long as I can remember. I’m descended from the Seneca tribe and I guess it’s some sort of genetic memory. I don’t know how to put it any other way.” Ned was quiet for a moment, his fingers idly stroking her skin. “I suppose that kind of makes sense, if you’re into that sort of thing.” She blinked. “What sort of thing?” “You know, dream regression, past lives…all that stuff.” Gaia considered his words. “And you’re not into…all that stuff.” He shrugged. “Never have been. But since I got here to Washington and started dreaming—about you or your alternate ego or whatever—well, it just seems really strange, you know?” “That’s putting it mildly.” She chuckled, unwilling to take offense at his evident skepticism. “In my dreams, I am a woman of the Heron clan. And you…” She walked her fingertips over his chest, “you are a warrior of the Heron clan.” “Of course. I am the bravest—er—brave who ever lived.” 64

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“I’m serious, Ned.” He sighed. “I know, sweetheart. I don’t understand this…this…thing between us.” His words were hesitant. “I don’t understand the dreams I’ve had of a time I know nothing about. I don’t understand why the woman I fuck in them turns into a bird at the end of them either.” “What?” “Swear to God. Just as I’m about to come, my dream lover, my Indian maiden, gets all fluffy and feathery and, bingo, I’m fucking a goddamn bird.” Gaia bit her lip against her laughter. “Oh, dear.” “Yeah.” He squeezed her. “You might as well laugh, because it sounds frickin’ hysterical. It’s not so funny when you wake up with a helluva hard-on and the deepseated fear you’re turning into some sort of bestiality freak.” “You poor thing.” “And when a woman dressed as a heron ends up sitting in exactly the right spot in the middle of a Washington DC park—it’s no wonder I blacked out.” “Fainted.” “I did not faint. Men don’t faint.” “Whatever.” Gaia dismissed his whine, snuggling more deeply into his welcoming embrace. “Just for the record, you’ll note that I’m completely unfeathered at this moment. No bestiality occurred here this evening. Just incredibly wondrous…” “Yeah, wondrous.” Ned yawned. “Wondrous is the perfect word to describe it.” Gaia’s eyelids drifted closed. “We’re both herons, Ned. You’re from the heron clan too.” “Must ‘splain the bird thing.” He shifted himself, wrapping her tightly to his chest. “Could be.”

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Cocooned in Ned’s warmth, Gaia relaxed completely, letting her thoughts drift where they would. She had more questions, more things to talk to Ned about, more answers she wanted to hear. But they could wait. She was exhausted, sated and more at ease in bed with this man than she could ever remember being. She decided to simply enjoy it. Together they slipped into sleep curled into each other like puppies after a hard day’s play. And neither dreamed at all.

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Chapter Seven Although Ned had his doubts about dreams and reality when he woke several hours later, roused by the amazing twin sensations of cool air on his body and a hot mouth on his cock. Blurry with sleep, he hardened immediately, responding to the stroke of soft lips, the teasing of a vibrant tongue and the touch of two hands. “Fucking shit—” Gaia lifted her head. “Sorry. I thought you were awake.” “Don’t apologize.” Ned’s gut throbbed. “And for God’s sake, don’t stop.” Her hair brushed his skin as she pushed a lock aside. “You sure you don’t mind? I want to make you come. Like I do in my dreams.” Those were words that probably every man with a pulse had yearned to hear at one point or another in his life, dreams be damned. “I don’t mind. Really.” Okay, he squeaked his answer, but he was only human, after all, and she had his cock in her hand. And his balls. Her fingers were roaming, finding all those incredibly sensitive places so few women knew about, let alone touched. With the accuracy of a homing pigeon flying back to its roost, Gaia palmed his sac, rolling it sensuously in her cupped hand as she returned to her previous occupation of sucking him off. Thank you, God. Ned told himself he was helpless. He lied like hell, but shit, he hadn’t had a blowjob this good since—well, since one of those dreams.

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She suckled him and ran her tongue along the pulsing vein, murmuring and humming with delight as she found that touchy spot beneath the head of his cock and making him grunt. She did it again, apparently for the pleasure of hearing him grunt. He obliged, not that he could have done anything else at this point. When her questing fingers probed behind his balls and started exploring places where no woman had gone before, he did a shitload more than grunt. She matched her sucking to her investigations, finding one particular area of flesh that when pressed—this time it wasn’t a grunt. It was an honest-to-God cry of surprise and delight. Something along the lines of “oh-fucking-holy-shit-what-did-you-do-andplease-do-it-again-now…” spoken in an obscure and archaic male dialect. Which Gaia must have understood, since she did indeed do it again. Now Ned was really helpless. His fantasy maiden was doing all the things to him she must have learned at the School for Occult Indian Maidens, Erotic Dream Memory Division. He clenched his teeth hard as his spine electrified with tiny bolts of sexual energy, preparing to discharge them down through his balls and his cock and into— “Gaia—babe—I’m gonna come if you don’t stop—” “I know.” She murmured the words around his most sensitive places, squeezing and releasing the base of his cock and sucking for all she was worth seconds later. Her fingers pressed once more just behind his balls, and when she took as much of him into her mouth as she could and drew hard on him… He was done. Cooked. Forced beyond his limits to control his own body. She’d taken him to the edge and hadn’t hesitated to push him over. Rattled, befuddled with sleep and aroused past all imaginings, Ned came, erupting into her hot sweetness like a fountain that had just had its pipes cleaned. Ned’s pipes were being cleaned but good.

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He sobbed out a cry of ecstasy, not caring that it was more of a plaintive whimper than a full-bodied roar. He flooded her throat, exploding with the entire force of his libido, unrestrained by any need to do anything at all—but come. She welcomed him, urging him on with her throat and her lips and her hands, moaning as she swallowed, sucking the very dregs from his soul. He flopped, every muscle in his body sagging and devolving into its primeval amoeba-like state as he drifted about six inches off the bed in a fog of post-orgasmic bliss. “Mmm.” It was an amused whisper and it came from somewhere near his right ear. It appeared to be attached to a lot of lovely soft skin, some equally soft hair and most probably a woman connecting all the parts. Right now, he was too tired and too happy to do more than agree. “Mmm.” Not even his dreams were that good. On that delightful thought, he slid once more into sleep, vaguely hearing her soft chuckle as she tucked herself into his body. He awoke at dawn. Or what he thought might be dawn, judging from the dim light oozing between the draperies of the hotel room. Holding his breath against the awful thought that the whole night might have been one of those incredible damn dreams, he turned his head and saw her. She was there, his woman, his insane delight. Gaia was sprawled beside him in a pose that could only be described as wantonly erotic. Arms outstretched on either side of her head, her breasts were soft mounds of delectable flesh, topped with rosy hued nipples that slumbered on, peeking from between strands of her shiny black hair. Her thighs were parted, one leg slightly bent beneath the sheets. Hell. He was human. Why not? Gingerly, he drew the covers back, exposing the glorious naked length of her.

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His cock, already more awake than he was, appreciated the view. But the pussy that drew his gaze deserved more than another pounding fuck. He owed her one and was a firm believer in repaying his debts. God, was he firm. Ignoring his morning wood, he slithered quietly down the bed and positioned himself between her thighs. She had the longest legs imaginable and it was with a great deal of pleasure that Ned lifted them onto his shoulders, where they settled as if they belonged there. The scent of her filled his nostrils as he stared, her pussy a tempting lure of pink and shiny flesh topped with a neatly shaved mound of black curls. His mouth watered to taste her once again, to start his day with a meal that would revive them both. Inhaling her fragrance, he leaned in, lapping his tongue delicately around the soft tissues of her pussy, smiling at the immediate response. She sighed and moved a little, her juices already beginning to dampen his lips. He delved deeper, knowing somehow that she loved to be stroked around her clit, not on it. He teased her, flicking light touches on the reddening pussy lips, then spreading the hot liquid around with his fingers. She moaned now, half awake, muscles twitching beneath the smooth skin. “Oh, sweet Jesus…” He ignored the slight sounds, secure in the knowledge that she was responding exactly as he knew she would. Now—now was the right moment to slip a finger inside her and find the magical place he knew was just—there. “God…” That was a loud moan and one that pleased Ned enormously. He’d remembered it right, recalled the exact spot from his dreams. This was incredibly weird, but wonderful in a variety of other ways. The wonderfulness outweighed the weirdness by a factor of ten, so he paid no attention to the mystery of it all and simply kept doing what he was

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doing. Eating out the woman who’d filled his sleeping mind with her passion and her desires. His tongue flew like an exquisitely talented hummingbird, strumming the chords of her sex with accuracy and urgency. She squirmed and thrust her pussy against his face, writhing beneath his mouth, quivering and tensing around him and pressing her legs against his back as he drove her up to the stars. Ned felt her hands grip his hair and pull—he winced, but refused to be distracted. She was going to come for him, share her orgasm with him this time around. He pushed her further, his finger working deep in her cunt, his tongue finding that minute place just beneath her clit and delving into it with just the right amount of pressure— She shattered around him, the reality of her orgasm so much more vibrant and intense than he’d believed possible. Her thighs clamped his ears, her heels drummed against his spine and she cried out, her body bowed as her pussy quivered and jerked against his lips. He could feel every spasm, every contraction and release of her inner muscles, both with his mouth and his finger as she clamped down onto it, riding out the rippling climax with every particle of her body. Even as she eased, he stroked her again, gently, massaging the tiny bump in her cunt with the lightest of touches. To his amazement, she keened a sharp cry and the spasms began anew, rolling through her more slowly this time, but with an even greater intensity. He sucked and licked, as aroused and as satisfied by Gaia’s orgasms as he would have been by his own. Her juices soaked him, hot and sweet and tangy on his tongue, branding the taste of her into his brain. Ned traveled with her, letting her finally ease and soften around him as he withdrew his finger and gave her pussy one long final caress.

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He lifted his head to see a pair of deep brown eyes blinking fuzzily at him. He grinned. “Good morning.”

***** Gaia sucked air back into her oxygen-deprived lungs and made the return journey to Earth with difficulty. Waking to find herself the recipient of a massive, orally induced orgasm was something she wasn’t used to. Which was the understatement of the year. “Damn. If Starbucks could bottle that, nobody’d need a double-shot of espresso in their lattes.“ Ned grinned as he pulled himself back up beside her. “I’ll assume that means everything went okay?” “I don’t know. Everything hasn’t landed yet.” “Let me know when your flight arrives.” Gaia chuckled. “Will do.” She sighed and stretched. “This is so strange.” “Good strange or strange-strange?” She thought about that. “Definitely good strange. Better than my dreams strange. But the whole dream-reality thing is in the category of strange-strange.” She glanced at Ned, leaning his head on his hand next to her and watching her face. “Does that make any sense at all? Or am I just rambling with postcoital confusion?” “Yes and probably yes.” “Clear as mud.” She giggled, unable to stop herself. “So. These dreams we seem to share…” Ned stared at her steadily. “Some sort of leftover memories from a past life?” He shivered dramatically. “I can’t believe I said that.” Gaia nodded in agreement. “Too weird, huh?” She stretched. “I’ve had them all my life, Ned. I remember, when I was little, I drew hundreds of pictures of Native American settlements in school. It seemed quite natural.”

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“Must’ve freaked out your teachers.” “My teachers, yes. My mom, no. I told her about them over breakfast. She’s got one hundred percent pure Seneca ancestors someplace back in her past. She simply listened and told me that dreams are part of who we are. How our mind deals with stuff. She encouraged me to tell her about them—actually, I think she enjoyed them. She never mentioned having any of her own.” Gaia smiled. “Maybe she was jealous.” “Of your lover?” Gaia shook her head. “Oh no. Once the dreams got—erotic—I stopped telling her so much about them. I mean—my mom, you know?” “Yeah.” Ned wrinkled his nose. “Parent talk only goes so far.” “Finding you, hearing you speak my name…shit, Ned. That was the absolute ultimate freakiest moment of my life, I have to say.” Gaia blinked at the memory that, even now, brought goose bumps to her skin. “You think you freaked out? Imagine finding yourself with a bird sitting directly over your dick, exactly like she’d done in your most hotly sensual dreams.” Ned groaned. “So, what’s going on? Are we sharing some sort of psychic past-life experience or something?” “Don’t know.” Gaia stared absently at the ceiling. “We’ve obviously dreamed similar dreams. Perhaps there’s something in both our pasts that’s lingered in our brain cells.” “Can stuff do that?” “I have no clue. Until yesterday, I figured I was just reliving some sort of existence from long ago.” She turned her head on the pillow. “I never figured on meeting my dream lover in the flesh.” Ned looked smug. “Thank you.” “I use the term dream lover in the literal sense.” His face fell. “Oh.”

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Gaia laughed. “Okay, so you’re a dream lover in all the right ways.” “So are you.” Ned reached out and lifted a handful of her hair, letting it sift through his fingers onto her breasts. “In all the right ways.” “Mmm.” Gaia closed her eyes, feeling as contented as a cat dozing in the sunshine. “Any idea what happened to the dream us?” “Nope.” She shook her head. “I do know that I’m always desperate to reach you. Something is driving me through those forests to where we meet. Something more than a primitive urge to get laid.” Her lips curved. “Although there’s a healthy dose of that too.” She opened her eyes again. “You?” “Same thing. Although mine start when we’re naked and doing it.” Ned grinned wickedly. “It’s a guy thing.” “Must be.” Gaia crooked one eyebrow and watched his face as he spoke. “I’m…” Ned paused as if searching for words, “I’m desperate for you, Gaia. Just absolutely and completely swamped with need. I know in my dream that if I don’t get inside you, I’m going to die. Just die.” “Wow.” Gaia blinked. “It’s something I don’t ever remember feeling in real life.” He licked his lips. “Until yesterday.” Gaia nodded. “I guess fate conspired with a bunch of feathers to finally get us together, huh?” “I’ll be forever grateful to the lady. Remind me to send her a Christmas card.” He leaned over and dropped a kiss on Gaia’s nipple, making her sigh with pleasure. “Nice.” She felt warm and cherished this morning. It was so natural, lying naked next to Ned and feeling him play as he wished with her. “So, we’ve met. Our destiny has been fulfilled. What next? What happens now?” Ned blew on the tender skin he’d moistened.

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“I have no idea, Ned. No idea at all.” She sighed. “You could keep on doing that for a bit.” “Okay.” “Or we could make some coffee. I probably need a shower.” “Me too.” He sighed in his turn. “And I’m not going to push you to share it. Yet. After last night, I don’t want to hurt you, being the incredible dream lover I am.” His lips curved wickedly. Gaia rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Sure, babe. Whatever.” He yawned and stretched. “I’m sure glad it’s Sunday. Anything you’d like to do today?” She opened her eyes and turned to him. “You have nothing on your schedule?” “Nope. One more commitment tomorrow and then I have to fly home on Tuesday…” He looked regretful. Gaia stared at him, the reality of their situation finally penetrating her consciousness to replace her dreams. “I’m sorry. Truly sorry.” Her brain began to process information more effectively. “I guess you’re done with your hearings and committees and stuff, then.” “Yes.” He left it there, a word hanging between them that completed Gaia’s waking-up mechanism as effectively as a cold shower. She rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed, a rueful laugh on her lips. “Talk about sleeping with the enemy.” “Hey.” Ned’s voice had just a slight edge to it. “I’m not the enemy, Gaia.” “Of course you’re not. I was kidding. Sort of.” Gaia shook her head. “But you can’t deny that you’re the man who helped Greenwood to a large chunk of forest with your testimony, Ned. A piece of real estate that nature took thousands of years to create.” A bitter taste crept into the back of Gaia’s throat as she realized what she—what they had done.

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They had spent the night together, an unlikely pair of bedfellows. A politically supported, pro-business environmental scientist and an emotionally invested, antidevelopment environmental crusader. Talk about a match made in hell. Ned sat up in his turn. “Look, I’ll make some coffee if you want the shower.” He turned away, perching on his side of the bed while he looked for his underwear. “I’m sorry, Ned. That was uncalled for. It’s just that now the dream is over. The sex was fantastic and I’m here with you, wanting nothing more than to stay here for a millennium or two. I’m having trouble dealing with it all.” Ned looked over his shoulder at her, a quick smile crossing his features. It disappeared at her next words. “But we can’t stay, of course. That’s impractical. And I can’t help this nagging feeling at the back of my mind that, in spite of the dreams, we’re on opposite sides.” “Opposite sides of what, for Chrissake?” “Our views, our beliefs, what makes us what we are—what’s brought us here to this bed, if you want to be absolutely plain about it.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “You’re in DC to testify on behalf of people I work twenty-four/seven to rein in, Ned. I want them stopped. You’re helping them continue.” “I…” Ned paused and pulled on his briefs as he stood. “I think that’s unfair.” Gaia stood too, heedless of her nakedness. “Why, then? Why did you do it? Why did you present a report on behalf of Greenwood Resources that made old-wood logging look like the best thing since sliced bread?” He met her gaze firmly. “I needed the money.” “Jesus Christ. You sold out?” Gaia was stunned. “I did not.” His face hardened. “You may find this hard to believe, Miss Save-theRainforest, but some of us live in a real world where bills have to be paid. Where

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companies exist and offer employment to some really good people solely because said companies generate income. A bottom line that isn’t red all the time.” He moved to the window and pulled back the drapes with a quick tug, making them screech on their hooks and setting Gaia’s teeth on edge. “When this offer from Greenwood came along, my firm was on the edge of failure. There are only five of us, all solid environmental scientists with some damn fine brains amongst us. We’re an excellent source for research and information and we’re proud of what we do. There are young families depending upon regular paychecks. Small places that come to us because we don’t charge as much as our big city counterparts. We’re a tiny fish in a big pond, but we like to think we’re just as valuable as the whales.” He turned a little, staring at her coldly now. “For my own part, I had debt up to my ass. College isn’t free these days, you know. I’d taken this job because it was what I wanted, even though the paycheck didn’t match the bills. I was naïve enough to think I could make it and was prepared for a few sacrifices if it meant doing what I love. But I was on the edge too. The edge of losing my apartment, not meeting my creditors’ demands…you think it’s easy finding a job that’ll pay off a college loan and provide enough left over to live adequately? In this field?” He snorted. “Think again.” “So to pay your bills, you agreed to support Greenwood’s position in front of House Committees, knowing full well that scientific research from somebody like you would grease the wheels of this little rider—and I use the word ‘little’ advisedly here, since it’ll probably result in millions of dollars for Greenwood.” Gaia’s hands were on her hips as she faced Ned down across the rumpled bed. “Nice job, Dr. Harper. If that’s not selling out, I don’t know what is.” She grabbed her panties and struggled into them. “You’re bright enough to know exactly what would happen—what Greenwood intended to happen.” Ned’s face was a study in anger and outrage. “And you’re bright enough to know I would never present false evidence or manipulate data, no matter how much the

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company paid. That’s a fucking insult to my integrity as a scientist, for God’s sake.” He stalked stiff-legged to the small sitting room and began fumbling with the coffee pot. “I do not, nor would I ever, falsify data. The report I presented was accurate to the last detail.” The pot clattered, protesting the rough treatment it was receiving. “It might surprise you to know that Greenwood’s project in the Northwest does not jeopardize the habitat of the marbled murrelet. I will stand firm on that conclusion, since it’s based on four months of research, observation and even a couple of nights watching the flight paths of a couple of marbled murrelets.” Gaia shivered as every protective nerve in her body went on high alert. “There are only about five thousand or so of those birds left in the entire world, Ned. Little sea birds whose only error in life is choosing to nest inland in valuable old wood instead of along the shore like the rest of their fellows. And I have this horrible feeling you just gave Congress the pen to sign their death warrant.” She headed for the bathroom. “I need a shower.” Gaia closed the door behind her and leaned against it, catching her breath at the ache that had begun somewhere near the vicinity of her heart. She turned on the shower, her movements automatic, since her mind was elsewhere. How could he? How could she? What had they done? They’d followed a course dictated by their dreams and their hormones, without much consideration of how huge the gap between them really was. Gaia stepped into the stream of hot water. Rationalizing, she tried to tell herself that Ned was one of the good guys, not one of the bad guys. But he didn’t seem to understand the essential part of Gaia’s nature, her deep and overwhelming passion for the Earth. It was so much an intrinsic part of who she was. She’d lived with it all her life, this caring, nurturing need to protect her world—her environment. She worked hard at it, hoping every day that she could make a difference, make the planet a better place for those who would inherit it in the future. 78

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She didn’t want a generation of children growing up not ever knowing what it was to see a live panda, or a white tiger. She hated the thought that species were becoming extinct with increasing rapidity or that her grandchildren might never know the aweinspiring sight of a condor flying above the treetops. Would the world of a hundred years from now even contain birds? Gaia had accepted that some people called her radical in her passion for the Earth. But how could someone like Ned, a solid scientist with all the facts at his fingertips, ignore the threats looming larger each and every day? How could he sell out to a misplaced notion of the bottom line and jeopardize the precarious balance of the natural world in an attempt to pay some bills? Hadn’t there been another way? Had he even looked for it? She finished her shower with a sense of gloom replacing the glow from their loving. This wasn’t a relationship destined for any kind of success at all. They were just too far apart, too polarized in their views of what mattered most. And she refused to believe that the moisture in her eyes was anything other than steam from the shower.

***** Ned’s temper was percolating as efficiently as the coffee and becoming equally as strong. How dare she? How dare she accuse him of selling out? That was disrespectful and downright wrong. Wasn’t it? Angry at both Gaia and himself, Ned pulled on his jeans, zipping them with a harsh jerk and nearly slicing his cock off in the process. She’d managed, with unerring accuracy, to find the one area of this whole trip to DC that had bothered him. She’d taken it out like an insect from under a rock and turned it into the messy slug it was.

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He’d needed money. He’d done what he felt was right for himself and for the company which employed him. Everybody there would go to work on Monday and get paid at the end of the month, thanks to this contract. And he had not presented any information that was false. He’d done a thorough job, researched every damn twig and tree trunk in a pretty big section of the Northwest and he’d stand by his report to the death, if necessary. Of course, Gaia—with her emotionally colored view of the environment—wouldn’t understand that. All she could see, from her narrow-minded perspective, was that Greenwood Resources were species-killers. And she’d accused him, Ned Harper, of passing them a fully loaded M16 rifle to assist them in their task. After they’d slept together. Ned poured himself a cup of coffee and winced at the harsh burn in the back of his throat as he took a sip. Hotel coffee sucked the world over. Staring from the window as the sound of Gaia taking a shower filled the suite, Ned asked himself some difficult questions. Would he have had sex with her if not for their dreams? Would he even have asked her to dinner if not for this strangely freaky undercurrent that had yanked at both of them and twisted their lusts into a Gordian knot? The answer was…maybe…maybe not. Ned was seriously attracted to Gaia and probably would have been even if she hadn’t been the heron woman featuring in a series of erotic dreams. But he might not have pursued the interest if he hadn’t had a head filled with images of some weird place where they were both hot, sweaty and naked. He certainly wouldn’t have rushed into bed with her on the first date.

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After all, he was a solid, practical scientist. Gaia was an emotional, colorful protagonist for the environment. A warrior for the world who probably didn’t use hairspray and despised those who did. Ned couldn’t see that, couldn’t see the use of screaming one’s beliefs loudly at people in an attempt to get them to understand and change course. Life didn’t work that way. He was grounded in the science, knowing that, eventually, the science would prove far more effective in convincing the world it needed to rethink its attitude about the environment. No, he and Gaia were definitely on opposite sides of the fence when it came to approach, attitude and—well, probably not passion. The sex had been—Ned couldn’t find the words. He felt his cock stir at the vivid memories of their night together. A time that had surpassed any sexual experience he’d ever had. It was the dreams. It had to be the dreams. Gaia was a woman, he was a man. Tab A fit Slot B very nicely, thank you. Sex was sex, in Ned’s opinion. There were things that would enhance the whole business and having a bunch of erotic dreams nesting in one’s brain worked damn well. But, when it all came down to the fundamentals, it was just sex. Asking whether there was, or could be, anything else between them, Ned found himself on shaky ground. There was a void there, a chasm separating their beliefs. He didn’t know if it could be bridged. She came out of the bathroom as he reached that conclusion, a sad look on her face. “I’ll pass on the coffee. Thanks, anyway.” Ned watched as she gathered her belongings. She was going to leave. “Look, Gaia…” “Don’t.” She held up a hand. “I understand. I’m sorry if I offended you, I really didn’t mean to. I’m too honest for my own good sometimes.”

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“Honesty isn’t a failing.” She turned, something dulling the glow of her brown eyes, pain perhaps—Ned wasn’t sure. “Between us, it might be. We do well together in bed, Ned. No question. This night with you has been—well, I don’t know how to describe it.” Ned found himself nodding. That was something he could agree with, wholeheartedly. “But…” she paused and lifted her purse onto her shoulder. “We both know there’s more to being with someone than sex. You and I view life differently. I can’t change who I am, how I feel, or the beliefs that make me Gaia Jackson, any more than you can change who you are. Neither of us should have to change, or even be thinking about it.” She walked to the door and put her hand on the knob. “The dreams brought us together, Ned. I don’t understand why or how, but we’ve fulfilled them. You made my dream a reality and for that I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I hope I managed to fulfill a couple of yours along the way. We probably won’t have ‘em anymore now that we’ve done…this…” She waved a hand at the bedroom and sighed. “But our dreams were all about the sex, weren’t they? They didn’t take into account the rest of life, the reality of it all.” “Look, I’m sorry…” Ned found his voice. “I hate to see you leave like this…” “Don’t be sorry.” She opened the door. “You gave me a night I’ll remember for the rest of my life. Thank you for that. And take care of yourself.” Gaia paused. “I’ll never forget you, Nohnohsot, although I doubt I’ll see you in my dreams again.” Ned’s heart thudded as she stepped into the hallway and he spoke the only two words his brain could produce. “Goodbye, Gandewitha.”

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Chapter Eight Gaia tried very hard to banish all thoughts of Ned Harper from her mind as she returned to pick up the threads of her previously semi-organized existence. It had been a wonderful, magical interlude of sexual pleasure—and that was all. Now she had to go on to new adventures, new challenges and new male love interests. Although not, she allowed herself, right at this moment. Not while the taste of Ned, the scent of Ned, the feel of Ned’s hands lingered someplace deep inside her. Not until she could fully banish these memories and bury them where they belonged—in her mental basement, filed under “good times past”. For the first couple of days, she was relatively successful too. Work was busy, tiring her out very quickly, and then there was all of Maxie’s adventures to hear about, along with the potential for a budding romance with Charlie. Skillfully, Gaia managed to gloss over her time with Ned, fending off Maxie’s questions with a skill that would have made an indicted politician weep with envy. She’d almost convinced herself by Wednesday that her weekend was completely over and done with. She knew Ned had flown back to Boston, not that she was thinking about it, of course. Then the dreams began once more. This time, they were shockingly intense, made even more so by the knowledge that Gaia’s mind could now bring to her sleeping visions. The feel of the grass beneath her knees as she wantonly thrust her ass up into the air in front of her warrior, the warmth of his body as he pressed himself against her, all these things were magnified now, mixed in with the warmth and the scent of Ned.

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The two were apparently indistinguishable to her subconscious mind. And the blend of lovers resulted in dreams of unimaginable ecstasy. The first one caught her completely by surprise.

“Gandewitha…” He called to her, a quiet voice that she heard nevertheless. Not even the wind soughing through the rain-soaked trees could have prevented her from hearing him. As if the storm prodded her spine with sharp spears, Gandewitha rushed on, desperate to reach him on this night, more desperate than she could remember. There was more behind her rapid steps than a desire to lie with him. There was fear, a simmering chunk of cold aching within her that only Nohnohsot could melt. And there he was, waiting for her, naked and aroused. The sight of him brought tears of joy to Gandewitha’s eyes and she ran into him, colliding hard against his flesh, reaching out to hold him tightly. “Nohnohsot…” She squeezed, hard, relishing the heat of his skin, the contours of his body as she flexed her fingers over his back, gasping for breath at their impact even as she tried to get even closer. “I’m here. I need you. Now.” “Yes, oh yes…” She didn’t want to step away, although he was fumbling with her clothes, trying to free her, to get her naked and where she needed to be. There was something she had to tell him and the words burst free. “I’m to be wed. The clan mother has chosen my mate. Hadentheni, a warrior from the Wolf clan. Nohnohsot. I cannot bear it…” She sobbed out the cry of agony. “I cannot be parted from you.” He stilled then, face hard and set in lines of anger. “How dare she? Did you tell her…?”

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“How could I? We are both Heron, Nohnohsot. We know this is not permitted. We must wed outside our clans. We have always known this.” She shivered in his embrace as he pushed away the last of her clothing. “If we are going to escape and be together, we must do it now.” “Ah, Gandewitha—” He held her, an embrace both fierce and tender, crushing her breasts as he pulled her body snugly into his. All thoughts fled her mind at the feel of him. “Love me. Love me now. Take me, please, Nohnohsot. Know that I shall never belong to anyone but you…” They tumbled together, limbs tangling, ending on the grass beneath them, a heated muddle of arms and legs and lips, touching, kissing, grasping at each other like starving eagles on prey. Nohnohsot’s mouth found her breasts even as Gandewitha’s hands reached for his cock, two lovers caught up in a maelstrom of need, twin desires unleashed that could only be sated by the most passionate of caresses. His fingers sought and found her pussy, stroking, delving past the wet and swollen lips to the moist passage within. It was not enough. Gandewitha moaned her pleasure, still shivering with a craving she could not name, a need she could not even begin to express. Her hands replaced his lips as Nohnohsot slithered down her body to lick and suckle. She grasped her breasts, pinching her nipples roughly, letting the delicious pain augment the movements of his tongue against that tiny seat of ecstasy he found so easily. His fingers wandered, squeezing and kneading her buttocks, then lingering between them in a place where the sensation turned her body white-hot and trembling. “Oh yes, my love. Yes. Tonight. Make me yours, every inch of me.” Eager and shaking with desire, Gandewitha scrambled to her hands and knees. “I want your cock, every part of you, inside me. Great Gods, how I need to feel you…”

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Her voice was hoarse, a gasp of lust and desire and passion that rolled around them on the wind. “I need you too. More than life, more than air…” Nohnohsot was already behind her, spreading her thighs wide and rubbing the head of his cock in her juices, slick and heated as they showered her skin with ribbons of passionate excitement. She moaned once more as she felt his hardness against her sensitive ring of muscles and relaxed, wanting to feel him take her in this new way—deeply—sending her to a realm of madness she was so desperate to lose herself within. “I would not hurt you…” Nohnohsot’s words were harsh, a rough mutter as he pressed between her buttocks. “You will not. You could not. I want you so badly, like this…please…” He eased himself past her taut opening, stretching her in a way that sent shivers of pleasure directly to her cunt. His fingers grasped her hips, squeezing her, adding even more sensations, driving her higher along the path to her peak. She groaned and dipped one hand between her legs, rubbing gently around her clit, keeping her body trembling with passionate desire as he entered her more deeply. Gandewitha barely heard his moan of joy, so involved was she in the strange intimacy of this penetration. “Gods, my love. You are tight, so tight…” He slid all the way inside her, a hard, filling weight within her ass, stroking places that burst into flame at his touch. It was almost painful, this stretching pleasure, but coupled with the caresses she gave herself, Gandewitha knew she was close to coming in a harder and more explosive way than she’d experienced before. Her senses swam, her body soared, and when Nohnohsot gently withdrew only to sink back once more, she cried out to him, to the heavens, to the storm that gathered around them. “Now, Nohnohsot. Now. I am going to fly. Be with me, my love…”

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He thrust rapidly at her command, pounding against her without a check, his balls slapping her skin and forcing her over the edge into oblivion. She screamed, a high wail of desires fulfilled, of pleasures unimagined. Her body surrendered to fiercely savage spasms of completion, grasping Nohnohsot’s cock in strange and wonderful ways, soaking her fingers with a rain of joy. She sobbed and whimpered, feeling the storm within her body rage in endless waves, shocks of magnificently brilliant orgasmic release washing over her, battering her flesh and her spirit. As they subsided, Gandewitha felt something else—a throbbing pulse, deep and strong, followed by Nohnohsot’s harsh cry as he followed her into the abyss. His cock, moving with the force of his climax, stirred her passions, making her sob with delight as he released his seed. Hot and full, he spurted endless streams, overflowing her tight places and spreading down her parted thighs to mingle with Gandewitha’s liquids in a stream of blended fulfillment. She was barely aware of the rain which had begun to dapple their skin with raindrops, so lost was she in the madness of their wild fucking. When it increased to a steady downpour, Nohnohsot eased himself from her and they both collapsed, letting the skies cleanse them and cool their flesh. Gandewitha shivered at the emptiness she felt with his cock no longer part of her body. “I love you so much. Little words for such a mighty passion.” “I cannot begin to even find the words, my life. Without you, I am not even a drop of rain in the lake that touches the clouds.” He gathered her close. “Let us leave. Tonight. Now, while it rains and there will be little chance of our leaving tracks behind.” She gripped his arms, unwilling to face a future without Nohnohsot in it.

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Instead of agreeing, Nohnohsot held her tight. “I have news as well.” He sounded—agonized. Like the words were coming from a throat that did not wish them to pass. “What?” She lifted her head from his shoulder to stare at him, brushing at the rain spattering them as they lay beneath a few branches offering little protection from the storm. He swallowed and reached past her for his clothing, grabbing his hunting knife and leaning back once more. “Nohnohsot?” Gandewitha frowned at him, shivers of apprehension chilling her more than the weather. He lifted the knife and hacked off a long piece of his hair. “Here, my love. Keep this safe.” “Oh no…” Gandewitha’s hand went to her mouth. She knew what the gesture meant. “Tomorrow, we leave for the north. Tomorrow, I shall wear my hair as a Seneca warrior. I cannot part from you without pain, but you know I must go.” He offered her the dark slick of black silk, a part of him she was loath to accept since it would mean… “You go to fight the Huron.” She whispered the words, blindly letting the agony flow through her. “Why, Nohnohsot? Why must men fight? Why must they die?” “It is our duty to our nation, precious one. We both have a duty. Our feelings have to take second place.” He stared at her, a steady gaze from his heart—a request that she understand his nature, his place in his tribe, his honor. She took the lock of hair, words choking in her throat. Already she could see him with his head shaved, only a tall tuft of hair marking him as the Seneca warrior he was. All she could do was breathe a silent cry of grief that tore at her soul…

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And was echoed in Gaia’s throat as she wrenched herself from her pillows, a scream of sorrow erupting from her lungs to mingle with the tears that had already soaked her cheeks. She simply could not deal with this, not this pain, not on this level. Not alone. Slipping from the bed, Gaia went to her laptop and pulled up her email screen. Quickly, she typed in an address—one she’d just happened to come across yesterday, strictly by chance, of course—for one Ned Harper. Her message was short and concise. “The dreams are back. Different now. I don’t know how to cope with them.” With a click, it was gone, winging its way through cyberspace to its intended recipient. Whether he’d answer or not, she had no clue, but she felt better after sending it. When she came home that night, the response was waiting. “I know. I’m having them again too. Please come up to Boston if you can get away. I may know someone who can help us.”

***** For Ned, the dreams had begun as soon as his flight touched down at Logan Airport. Actually, a little before then, since the shuttle from Reagan National had been delayed on the tarmac as always—probably due to somebody coughing in Outer Mongolia—and Ned had dozed off in his first-class seat before the flight attendant had even had a chance to offer him the beverage of his choice. So his forty-five minute flight had been more like an hour and a half, during which he’d lapsed into a sleep that was far from refreshing. Blurred visions danced through his airborne brain, visions of battles and warriors and heads bare but for a center tuft that stood erect like the crest of a cockatiel.

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He shuddered awake as the final approach chimes sounded, lifting a hand to his head to make sure nobody had given him an unauthorized haircut on the flight. Even though his hair was intact, his heart wasn’t. That night he dreamed again, this time of Gandewitha and her sleekly supple body. She seemed desperate for him, a need tinged with a fear he could not name. The sex was passionate and hot, driving a sleeping Ned into a state of painful hardness and waking him with what he now came to expect as his post-nightmare stiffy. Angry that he was still having these experiences, Ned tried the glass-of-milkbefore-bed thing. Followed by the healthy-shot-of-scotch-before-bed thing. Neither worked. On the night he took Gandewitha up the ass in the rain, surprising himself with the incredibly pleasurable sensations—since he wasn’t into that sort of activity—he realized the dreams weren’t going to go away, no matter what he dosed himself with before he went to bed. In fact, they were getting worse. Or stronger. Or more intense. Or whatever… Their effects were noticed. “You look like shit.” Irene Louis raised an eyebrow at him over the top of her reading glasses. “Thanks, Irene. I needed that.” He shuffled through his messages and his mail in front of her desk. Irene was a retired librarian who enjoyed being the receptionist-voicemail-staff assistant-meddle in everybody’s business person in a small office. She ran the place with an iron fist, tolerated fools poorly and baked the best chocolate chip cookies this side of heaven. She was an invaluable asset, which was why Ned couldn’t bring himself to brush her comment aside.

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“What’s the matter, sweetie? Woman trouble?” Irene got that look on her face that said he wasn’t going to get away without unburdening his soul to her. He sighed and sat in the chair in front of her desk. Many a visitor had likened it to the corporate equivalent of a psychiatrist’s couch—Irene was that good at getting people to spill their guts. “I’m not sleeping well.” Ned rubbed his hands over his face. “No kidding. The large carryon bags under your eyes give that away.” Irene continued to look at him. “What’s on your mind, pal?” “Dreams.” He mumbled the word, fearing he’d sound like an even greater idiot than he probably was for having the damn things in the first place. “Bad dreams? Good dreams? Standing-naked-on-top-of-the-Prudential-Center dreams?” “They’re…” Christ. How did he describe them without going into lurid detail? Which would probably enchant Irene, but embarrass the crap out of Ned. “They’re very intense dreams about a time long ago. And yeah, before you ask, there’s a woman in ‘em.” “Aha.” Irene grinned. “Now you’re talking.” “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m not telling you the details.” “Spoilsport.” She pushed her glasses up onto the bridge of her nose. “They’re enough to wreck your nights, though, right?” “You have no idea.” Ned sighed. “I started having them in DC, figured I’d gotten rid of them, but they came back.” “What time?” “About ten a.m. on the flight back.” “No, idiot. What time period are you dreaming about?” Irene wrinkled her nose. “Uhh…” Ned thought for a moment. “It’s all Native American stuff. Forests, lakes, mountains—I’m told it’s the Seneca tribe.” 91

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“Told? By whom?” Irene pounced on that like a cat on a half-drunk and oblivious mouse. Ned surrendered. Within moments the whole story had sort of come out of his mouth, minus the more intimate parts. “You’re leaving a lot out.” Irene looked at him accusingly. “Bet your booties I am. I don’t get my cookies off shocking nice old ladies.” “Who you callin’ old, asshole?” “Jesus, Irene.” Ned couldn’t help the laugh. “Quit with the potty mouth, will ya? You’re shocking me.” “Yeah, right.” She snorted. “Okay. So you met the woman of your dreams in the flesh, so to speak, in DC. You two did the deed and figured you’d both got it out of your system, right?” Ned nodded. “Yeah. That about sums it up.” “But you haven’t. Didn’t. Whatever.” She waved her hand, summarily dismissing any thought of being grammatically correct at this point. “Seems not.” Ned rested his chin on his hand and stared at nothing in particular. “Read this.” Irene passed a book across her desk with a snap and Ned glanced at the cover. Dreams and Dream Wanderers. The author was somebody named Corvo. He read the blurb beneath. Do you dream? Are your dreams troubling, or disturbing in any way? Do you dream in colors? Remember sounds or tastes or smells? Are you having trouble sleeping? If you answered yes to any of these questions, perhaps we can help answer some of your concerns. He pushed it back. “Can’t stand that New Age crap.” “Hey. Don’t sass me. This is one helluva book. Dr. Corvo and his wife have done some incredibly fine research on dreams. He’s got a nice writing style and mentions

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some things that come close to what you’ve told me. What can it hurt?” She tipped her head, daring him to turn her down. She was right. What could it hurt? “Okay. I’ll give it a try. But if it tells me to contemplate my navel, drink herbal tea or chant beneath a full moon, you are so going to hear about it.” He fixed her with his most threatening glare. “You will owe me cookies. A double batch.” He paused. “With nuts.” Irene looked smug. “Philistine. Just read the frickin’ thing. You’ll be surprised.” After the dreams Ned had experienced, he had to wonder about that statement. “I don’t know there’s much left that can surprise me, honey.” But he took the book, anyway. He started it that very lunchtime on a bench in Harvard Square, hoping to drive back the lingering visions of Gandewitha. He finished it late in the afternoon when an appointment cancelled on him, leaving him a couple of hours free. And when he got home to find Gaia’s email waiting for him, he knew it was a sign. The two of them simply had to go see this Dr. Jake Corvo. If anybody could straighten out this tangle of messed up memories, it was him. Now all he needed was an appointment. And Gaia.

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Chapter Nine Gaia saw Ned the minute she walked through the arrival doors into Logan airport itself. Her flight was forty minutes late, of course—somebody’s camel had given birth in the Middle East and disrupted the entire Northeast corridor air traffic control system— but his smile of welcome made all her frustrations vanish in a poof of happiness. “It’s so good to see you.” His hug enveloped her and washed away any doubts she’d had about this trip. “I’m glad you could make it.” She leaned back in his arms, looking at him. “Me too.” He released her then, memories of their parting obviously descending on him just as they did on her. “I’m sorry, Gaia.” “I’m sorry…” They laughed awkwardly, caught with the same sentiment on their lips at the same moment. Ned took her bag. “Come on. We have an appointment with a guy in town. I think he might be able to answer some of our questions about the dreams.” Ned glanced at her as they walked out the doors to the parking garage. “Are you up for this?” She nodded, pulling her jacket tightly around her against the sharp winds of Boston in the late fall. “Yes. Most definitely yes. The dreams are worse than ever, stronger than ever. You?” “Yeah. I haven’t slept well since…well, since the night we…” He stumbled over his words, masking his embarrassment by fiddling with the locks on his car. “I’m tired, irritable and going quietly nuts. At this point, I’m ready to try anything.” “So let’s do it.” Gaia looked around her as they drove away. “Haven’t been up here in ages. Things have changed a lot.”

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The conversation turned general, Ned showing her the latest developments in Boston’s Big Dig project, cursing the tunnel traffic and finally finding a convenient parking space near the hotel where he told her they were meeting their dream counselor. “This sounds a bit farfetched, Ned, I have to admit. Especially for someone as practical as you.” Gaia stood beside the car, ignoring the bustle of traffic around her. Ned said nothing for a few moments, making Gaia realize that what she’d said could sound like an insult. Or possibly something mildly offensive, given their last words to each other in Washington. “Look, don’t take that the wrong way, okay?” He chuckled. “I’m not. You’re right. I am practical. Can’t help it. But right now, I’m stuck in an improbable situation with no ready answers in sight. I’m desperate, Gaia.” He gazed at her across the car. “Truly desperate. That’s how strong the dreams are now.” She nodded. “I know.” “So let’s go see if we can do something about them.” Ned led her into the hotel and, after checking with the front desk, she found herself in the elevator heading for the suite assigned to Dr. Jake Corvo. “It’s a wonderful book, Gaia. You’d love it. The guy has a great turn of phrase, puts stuff simply and mostly nontechnically and makes a lot of sense. When I talked to him, he sounded really normal, you know?” “You’re chattering.” Gaia grinned as the floors ticked away. “I’m nervous.” Ned shrugged. “Stupid, but there it is.” Obeying an impulse, Gaia slipped her hand into Ned’s. “Not stupid at all. Kinda cute.” He looked at her, his eyes all heat and passion. “Be careful.” His fingers squeezed hers. “You’re not out of my system. I don’t know if you ever will be. I’m keeping a tight

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rein on a whole bunch of stuff here, but if you go poking at it, I won’t be responsible for what pops out.” A quick rejoinder sprang immediately to Gaia’s lips, but the doors slid apart and she had to bite down on the comment about things that popped out. Damn. It was funny too. Jake Corvo welcomed them with a warm smile and a handshake. He wore jeans and a dark sweater and looked, as Ned had said, quite normal. “C’mon in. Sorry about the routine hotel stuff, but there wasn’t another option, I’m afraid.” He waved at the obligatory overstuffed—and probably uncomfortable—couch. “Coffee?” There was a pot on a tray, along with several cups and saucers. Thankfully from room service, not the idiotic little creosote maker provided for the early morning convenience of unwary guests. “That would be great, thanks.” Gaia sighed with pleasure as the rich brew warmed her body. “It’s cold up here.” Ned sat down next to her, refusing the coffee. “Thanks for seeing us on such short notice, Dr. Corvo.” “Call me Jake.” His eyes were oddly dark and penetrating, realized Gaia. He was sizing them up even as they exchanged social pleasantries. She felt herself mesmerized for a minute or two as his gaze lingered on her face. “So tell me, Gaia. Tell me about your dreams. I’ve already had a brief rundown from Ned on the phone, but he couldn’t fill in some of the blanks. That needs to come from you.” Within moments, she was laying her soul bare. Damn, this man was good. She spilled her guts, telling Jake about the earliest dreams she could remember, how they’d changed and what was happening in them now. With just a few simple questions, Jake had pulled almost her entire life out from the recesses of her mind.

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“You were to marry another warrior?” Ned looked stunned as she reached the end of her recital. “Apparently so.” Gaia shivered a little. “That’s what Gandewitha said in my dream, anyway.” She blinked. “And you were going to war.” Jake steepled his fingers together and looked at them both soberly. “Well, if I may make a few preliminary observations here…” Both Gaia and Ned leaned forward. “Please do.” It was a cry from Gaia’s heart. Anything would help, any insight, any suggestion—she was ready. “It’s not hard to see that you both have a Native American heritage in your ancestral history.” Jake waved a hand casually at them. “That’s not new to either of you, I’m sure. So it’s not hard to guess where the dreams may have originated when it comes to your past memories.” “Past memories?” Ned looked skeptical. “There are definitely such things as past memories, Ned,” Jake answered quietly. “Our pasts don’t begin at conception, I’ve learned. Our genetic heritage can contain more than hair color or height. We inherit those factors from our parents and grandparents. Why is it so improbable that we inherit genetic memories as well?” “Uh…” Ned’s expression wasn’t exactly accepting of this notion. “Bear with me for a bit.” Jake continued his evaluation. “These inherited memories lodge themselves deep within our subconscious, much like a dislike of oranges or a craving for chocolate, to use a food analogy. We don’t know why we have them—we just do. They’re part and parcel of who we are, an integral part of our personality. Most of the time, they’re simply tiny eccentricities that go unnoticed or can be easily explained.” “Most of the time?” Gaia picked up on the few words that seemed to jump out at her.

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Jake smiled. “Yes. Most of the time. There are the one or two rare occasions…” “You mean like us?” Ned swallowed. “There are others like us?” Jake lifted one eyebrow. “Would you believe my wife and me?” “Really?” Gaia’s jaw dropped. “You two had dreams like this?” Jake chuckled. “You have no idea, honey. And I couldn’t explain it if I tried. Ours were different, of course. Everybody who has them has them differently, if that makes sense. Not long ago, I met an author who was having them. She’s sorted it all out now, thank heavens.” “An author?” “Sorry. Privileged information.” Jake’s response made Gaia pout, but she respected his professionalism. “Of course. I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just sort of comforting to know we’re not the only psychic weirdo’s out there.” “You’re not.” Jake grinned and shifted in his chair. “Far from it. But you are certainly sharing an intensity that makes me think you two have a shared history together.” Ned frowned as Gaia bit her lower lip and considered the implications. Silence fell for a few moments. “Look.” Jake crossed his legs. “If there are such things as genetic memories, then they may well vary in strength. The stronger the emotion, the stronger the memory. And, in my humble opinion, the strongest human emotion there is—is love.” “Oh.” Gaia felt the color rise in her cheeks. “So that would mean that Ned and I…” “Shared something very unique and passionate in your pasts? Yes. I believe so.” “Something that has traveled through time to catch up with us now? That seems real out there, if you’ll pardon the expression, Jake.” Ned was looking as confused as Gaia felt.

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Jake thought carefully before replying. “Let’s put it this way. If love is as powerful an emotion as I believe it is, then there is a-a—rightness to it, if you will. A pattern of events destined to take place between two souls fated to meet. Most of the time what is supposed to happen, happens. Two lovers find each other and things run according to plan. But sometimes…” He paused for a second or two, his eyes on Gaia and Jake. Through some well-developed sensitivity of her own, Gaia knew he wasn’t actually observing them, though. He was looking inward at something only he could see. “Sometimes the plan gets derailed for one reason or another. That’s when the memories become unfinished memories. When the need to complete their mission forces them to make their presence known. In dreams.” Ned seemed a little bewildered. “But how does this help us get a good night’s sleep? How does it stop the god-awful ache I feel when I wake up…” Gaia flashed him a quick glance. “You too, huh?” He met her gaze. “Yes. Worse now. Worse since…” Gaia blushed, the heat setting her cheeks on fire. “Yes, well, we needn’t go into that now.” Jake grinned wickedly. “Look, it seems that coincidence, happenstance, the Fickle Finger of Fate or whatever, has brought you two together. You’re attracted to each other on a variety of levels.” The grin became an outright smile. “I don’t have to have a Ph.D. in psychology to see that. It’s there.” Ned swallowed. “Okay. And?” “And now it’s time to put an end to the dreams by understanding them. By allowing them to run their course and tell you what’s buried in both your brains.” He stood. “Ordinarily, I’d invite you to my home. My wife and I like to spend some time with our guests, talking with them, getting to know them and their visions. But I understand you’re here only for a short time, Gaia.” She nodded. “I flew in from DC just a few hours ago.” She was a little surprised. “It seems like a lifetime ago, when I think about it.” 99

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“Here.” Jake offered them a small bottle. “This is a liqueur Renny makes.” Ned took it cautiously. “Hmm. I’m not big on those sweet after-dinner drinks.” “All I’m asking—suggesting, actually—is that you two go to dinner. Relax. Have some wine or whatever. Mellow out with each other. Then find someplace quiet and share this. It’s only a few herbs distilled in an alcohol base. Nothing illegal, so my wife assures me. But we’ve found that this particular combination not only enhances relaxation, it dilutes various chemicals within the brain that, for want of a better expression, block the dream memories.” “So this will set us free?” Gaia’s mouth quirked. “Sort of like really good dope back in the sixties? Or so my mother tells me?” Jake looked a little self-conscious. “I wouldn’t know, of course, being a properly brought up psychiatrist. But, in essence, yes.” Gaia grinned in her turn. “Okay. I believe you.” “Thanks.” He huffed an exaggerated sigh of relief. “College days aside, this stuff really does help. It’s not a cure-all, but if it will get you further into your dreams, you’ll be in a better position to understand them and deal with them.” Gaia rose from her seat, as did Ned. She reached for her purse only to pause as Jake added one more comment. “Do either of you have a particular affinity for birds, by any chance?” Silence fell for a moment or two after that odd question. Then Gaia spoke. “I have a little heron tattoo. I know my ancestors were of the Heron clan. It seemed right. I’ve always loved them.” Ned’s gulp was audible. “Funny you should say that.” He reached inside his shirt and pulled out a small charm—what Native Americans called a “fetish”. It was shaped like a heron. “My grandmother gave me this when I turned twenty-one. I found it when I got home and—I—er—” He glanced at Jake. “Why?”

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“Just a theory I’m working on.” Jake shrugged. “Probably not important here, but good to know.” He moved to his briefcase. “I’m going to give you a couple of phone numbers and my address at home…” While he rummaged, Ned leaned close to Gaia. “Where is your tattoo?” “On my ankle. You didn’t see it?” She whispered back. “I was kinda busy in other places, babe.” His grin was pure sinfulness and Gaia couldn’t help chuckling back at him. “Yeah. I suppose I can understand that.” “Here you are.” Jake passed over some cards and a leaflet or two. “So go eat dinner and get comfortable. There is one thing I recommend here…try to keep your hands off each other, okay?” “Huh?” Gaia blinked. “Sex.” Jake said the word without flinching. “Don’t have it. Not ‘til after you’ve tried this stuff.” “Uh…” Ned blushed this time. “Okay. If you say so.” “I do.” Jake continued without pause. “Sex exhausts the mind and the body. It messes with your brain chemistry along with other things. Do the relaxation-dream link first. Then…feel free to boink your brains out.” “Sheesh.” Gaia tried to look shocked. “Hey.” Ned grinned. “Now we have a genuine prescription from our doctor, honey. Get drunk and have sex. I can live with that. A helluva lot better than antibiotics and take two aspirin…” “Out.” Gaia shoved at Ned’s shoulders. “You’re embarrassing me.” Jake looked at her speculatively. “My wife would love you. And she’d have given me hell for what I said just now. But I don’t retract it. Please try what I’ve recommended, let me know how it works and if you’re still having the dreams, or problems with them, call me?”

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The obligatory thanks and parting sentiments were uttered and Gaia found herself back in the elevator with Ned, astounded that over two hours had flown by in the fascinating company of Dr. Jake Corvo. They were silent, as if by mutual consent, until they reached Ned’s car. His chin tilted up toward her as he unlocked her door. “So, what do you think?” She gazed back at him, so tall and handsome, truly the warrior of her dreams in so many ways. Her body tingled at his closeness, her heart pounded fiercely in her chest and she knew he was leaving their course of action up to her. She could ask him to head back to the airport, where she could grab the next shuttle home to DC and never see him again. Or… Gaia took a breath and smiled. “Dinner sounds good.”

***** They drove out of the city as the light was fading, heading back to Cambridge. Ned knew just where to go for dinner—his favorite little nook where they could feast on the best Italian food in the world. Gaia seemed enthusiastic, surprisingly so to his mind, commenting on Boston, the Charles River and enjoying the drive. Ned enjoyed it too, seeing his home through her eyes. He parked near his apartment and turned off the engine. “Dinner first? Or do you want to go inside and freshen up?” She grinned. “I’m fresh. I’m also hungry. Let’s eat, drink and be whatever. Once we get inside, we have work to do.” He grinned back. “Gotcha.” Gina’s was Ned’s favorite eating place, off the beaten path but offering the freshest and tastiest food around, to his mind anyway. Gina herself welcomed them, hugging Ned, fussing around them and tucking them finally into a little booth, promising them pizza as soon as it came out of the oven.

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“Just the way you like, Ned.” She beamed, her accent strong and betraying her European origins. “Loaded with everything and extra cheese, yes?” Gaia giggled. “You might want to hold the onions.” “Oh ho.” Gina chuckled. “Like that, is it?” “Maybe.” Gaia laughed. “But I’m not a big fan of onions. And if there’s any anchovies, move them to his side please?” Ned settled himself on the bench. “No anchovies. I won’t go that far.” “Thank God.” Gaia leaned back. “This is nice, Ned.” He glanced around. “Yeah, I like it. The pizza’s fabulous, I can always get a table, even on Saturday nights, and Gina’s a sweetheart.” Gaia looked across the table at him. “I’m glad I came.” “So am I.” He gazed steadily back at her. “Dreams aside, Gaia, I’m real glad you’re here. I missed you.” “It’s only been a few days.” “Seems like longer.” Gaia’s heart twisted as she watched him. This man had touched her in ways she’d not expected. And he was right, it wasn’t just the dreams that had bound them together. The arrival of Gina with their pizza and drinks interrupted her train of thought and the fragrance alone had her mouth watering before it was even cut. “God, that smells fabulous.” A party of students entered, noisy, boisterous and filling the small restaurant with enough noise to make intimate conversation an impossibility. Gaia started on her pizza with mixed feelings. She’d like to have pursued that idea, the notion that Ned was somebody very special to her in the here and now, not just as a dream image of a warrior long ago.

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But it wasn’t to be. They smiled and shrugged as the noise level increased tenfold and Gaia simply relaxed into the meal, matching Ned beer for beer and relishing the thick Italian sausage littering the overloaded pizza between them. Finally, when they both declared themselves stuffed to the adenoids, Gaia stretched and put the last spoonful of her tiramisu back on the dish. “Can’t do it. I’m absolutely replete. Which is the fancy way of saying I ate too much.” Ned looked relaxed too. “This was fun.” “It was. And to think it was the doctor’s orders. I wonder what he’d prescribe for the flu.” “The mind boggles.” Ned took care of the check, left a tip and kissed Gina on the cheek as they gathered their belongings. The cold air smacked Gaia in the face as they stepped out of the fragrant warmth onto the Cambridge street. “Whoa. It gets damn nippy up here early, doesn’t it?” “Wimp.” Ned put his arm around her and hugged her close. “We’ll be home in a few. I’ll light the fire.” “You have a fireplace?” Gaia’s neck swiveled at that piece of news. “A real one? Not one of those gas things?” Ned looked smug. “Yep.” “Decadent capitalist.” She tucked herself against him. “I can’t wait to see it.” Ned stopped by his car before they turned to his front door. “Wait a minute, I have to get that bottle of whatever Jake gave us.” Gaia paused, breathing in the chilly air, listening to the low murmur of sounds around her. Traffic hooted a few blocks away, soft music could be heard from one of the neat houses on the street—she tried to capture the moment like a mental snapshot. As if she could hold time in her mind. “Here we are.” Ned emerged from his car with the bottle. “You ready for this?”

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“As ready as I’ll ever be.” The meal had been wonderful, the beers had slipped down her throat like nectar—yep, she was ready. “I need to pee first, though. For some reason, I don’t drink beers, I merely rent them for an hour or two.” Ned’s laugh preceded her into his apartment, an amazingly neat first floor residence, rich with old Victorian woodwork and interesting nooks and crannies. Plus the promised fireplace. “Oh, this is nice, Ned.” Gaia put her jacket and bag down on a small table and wandered around, touching the carved molding and ending up in front of the mantelpiece. “Beautiful. I can understand why you picked it.” Ned nodded. “I couldn’t resist it. The bathroom’s down the hall to the left.” “Thanks.” Gaia headed that way, eager to get going with the rest of the evening’s “entertainment”. When she returned, Ned had—as promised—started a fire. The glow was charming, reflecting off the polished surfaces. Gaia smiled. “You’re neat.” “I have to be.” He shrugged. “I learned in college I’d never find a damn thing if I didn’t get myself some sort of organization.” He led her to a large overstuffed chair facing the fireplace. “Here. Sit. I’ll pour us a shot of that magic elixir.” “Okay.” She settled herself into the cushions, feeling them snuggle around her in welcome. “Where are you going to sit?” Ned returned with two small glasses, half full of a reddish liquid. “Right where I’m most comfortable.” He passed her a glass and sat on the floor in front of her chair. “Move your legs a little.” He leaned back, his shoulders resting between her parted knees, his head tilting to find a comfortable spot on her thigh. “Nice.” She sighed with pleasure as they both stared into the flames and sipped their drinks. “This is good stuff…” And it was. A warm glow was already spreading from Gaia’s belly through her body, making her limbs heavy and her head a little fuzzy. Or maybe it was the weight

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of Ned’s head, pressing into her leg. She didn’t know and, right now, she didn’t particularly care. Whatever it was, she felt—wonderful. Ned’s hand slipped beneath her calf and he lifted her knee to rest over his shoulder. “Better.” His hands removed her shoe and rubbed her foot gently. “Oh shit, Ned. That is…” She struggled for words. “Sublime!” Gaia closed her eyes as the sensual massage turned her to a useless lump of jelly. “My specialty.” His lips brushed her skin and she felt something tingle. She jumped a little. “What was that?” “What?” “Something—touched me.” Ned was quiet for a moment. “It must have been my charm.” He shifted position a tiny bit. “Like this?” The tingle came again and Gaia realized he was holding his fetish necklace against her tattooed ankle. “Well, if that isn’t just the freakiest thing…” The sensation was one of sheer pleasure, a slow burn that traveled up her leg to her most personal and private places, making her want to squirm and pull his head to her pussy. She finished her drink and put the glass down beside them, even as Ned did the same thing and rested his head more comfortably, nuzzling and stroking her until her senses swam. “Mmm…” It was a sigh of utter contentment. She wanted to purr, but was just too tired right at this moment… The weight of Ned’s head grew heavier and his hands eased their stroking. The room was silent but for the soft crackle of the fire and the sound of rain outside, a

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steady patter of droplets that had obligingly waited for them to get inside before starting to fall. It was cozy, wonderful, blissful—Gaia’s mind ran out of adjectives to describe it. She simply let it go and fell into it without a qualm.

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Chapter Ten There was something different in the air of the forest. Nohnohsot could almost smell the tension, the fear—the eagerness with which he and his fellow warriors crept silently through the undergrowth, nearing their quarry. His head was shaved, smooth but for the erect strip that marked him as Seneca. Their longtime foes, the Huron, would be expecting an attack, but possibly not this early, not when dawn had barely broken. It was hard to tell even that, since thick clouds had obscured the sunrise and the mutterings of a storm threatened bad weather on this day. It would be bad for the Huron. Nohnohsot was nothing if not confident in his fighting skills. He’d been tried and tested, as had his fellow warriors. They would be triumphant. They would return as victors. Then he could face the issue of Gandewitha’s betrothal. Their parting had been bittersweet, their loving extraordinary. He couldn’t imagine himself with another woman, any more than he could imagine her body invaded by another man. If they had to flee, they would. He knew they would both willingly do whatever they had to in order to stay together forever. There was wild land to the west and the north—trading posts to the south. Plenty of places where two people could blend and disappear if necessary. A chirrup from a distance jerked him from his thoughts and he dropped silently to a crouch, hand on his bow. It was the signal to stop, to wait—hidden—for their enemy to appear.

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This was a good place to conceal themselves, thick brush surrounding one of the few paths across these hills. The Huron were brave, but preferred the comfort of using cleared tracks rather than risking the wilderness of an unfamiliar forest. They would be silent, though. In this half-light, all the Seneca would need their sharp eyes and their even sharper hearing to detect the approach of their foes. Leaves brushed Nohnohsot’s naked shoulders, but he ignored them. He was silent as a rock, knowing that the slightest sound could mean the difference between success and failure. Failure meant only one thing. Death. His knife nestled against his spine and his bow was at the ready, arrows sharp and as eager to find their target as he was to shoot them. His throat moved on a quiet swallow. The waiting was the worst. There would be a volley of arrows flying freely once the enemy was within sight, then fierce combat, brave to brave, warrior against warrior, Seneca against Huron. Blood would be spilled and spirits would rise to walk with their ancestors. It was the way of their world and they accepted it. But now, Nohnohsot wished that perhaps such things could end. That he could live with Gandewitha in a time of peace, raising their children together and finally becoming spirits in the heavens, side by side, resting for eternity in each other’s arms. Another bird called, softly, from a distance. Nohnohsot’s dream of peace evaporated rapidly as he recognized the sound. The Huron were on the move. He couldn’t know that a short distance behind the Seneca warriors another figure was moving. As silent as they, this slender body wove through the brush, fingers grasping a bow and heart pounding beneath breasts bound tightly with strips of fabric and leather. Nohnohsot would not have believed such a thing possible—and yet perhaps he would not have been surprised to see this figure. 109

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Gandewitha had no intention of allowing him to see her at all. She simply could not stand waiting behind for his return or for news of his death. It would have been an unbearable torture. Shortly after the braves left their settlement, she had crept from her house, as stealthy as any Seneca brave. She was a fine shot with her bow and taller than many a man. So what if the women were expected to stay by the fires, raising the children, running the tribe? That was acceptable for many, but not this Seneca woman. Not Gandewitha. Her hair bundled tightly around her head and her betraying breasts confined beneath their bindings, she had followed her lover skillfully and quietly, always staying far enough behind to avoid detection, yet within range of anything that might occur. She too, heard the call that signaled danger approaching and dropped to her knees on the soft bed of pine needles beneath a large tree. Motionless, she waited, ears alert for the slightest sound. And there it was. Lifting her head like a fox sensing its prey, Gandewitha caught the unmistakable whoosh of arrows flying free, the grunts and thuds as they met their target and, within seconds, the war cries of both Seneca and Huron. The need for stealth behind her, Gandewitha hurried forward, cautiously but determinedly, knowing the battle was underway. Why the Huron and the Seneca were perpetual enemies was a question for another time, another place. It just was, a fact of life they accepted and dealt with as necessary. Right at this moment, all Gandewitha could think of was Nohnohsot, in the thick of the fight. She picked her way toward the sounds, realizing that they were now engaged in a full-out fight. Arrows worked from a distance, but once the element of surprise was lost, it became a trial of strength and skill.

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Nohnohsot was strong and skilful. But would it be enough? As she cleared a patch of bushes, Gandewitha gasped at the sight before her. There were many, many Huron, more than she guessed the Seneca had expected. Several Huron bodies lay behind the fight, arrows marking their passage from this world to the next. There were grunts and cries and the solid thud of flesh against flesh, punctuated by the groans as knives sank past the delicate skin into sinew and beyond. Blood was flowing, the fight was fierce, and yet she was struck by the silence in which these two mortal enemies engaged each other. Notching an arrow into her bow, Gandewitha stepped forward and loosed it at a target—a Huron hurrying to assist a fellow barely holding his own against a Seneca brave. She barely had chance to see him fall before another Huron came from the forest, and another—they were everywhere it seemed. Shooting at whatever Huron she could fix in her sights, Gandewitha moved toward the battle, stopping only when her quiver was empty. She reached for her knife, knowing that she now stood beside Nohnohsot. He was grappling with a large brave, teeth bared in a grimace of anger and bloodlust. A quick thrust of his knife finished the fight and he turned with a wild grin only to stop dead as he saw her. “Gandewitha…” Her disguise had not fooled him for a moment, but right now there was no time to explain. “Not now, my love. Look to your left…” She spun and slashed at a bare chest, ripping it open and making the man fall back onto the ground with a harsh cry. “Get behind me.” His words were angry and sharp. “No. I fight beside you.” Her retort was equally sharp, although more breathless as she kicked and struggled against a Huron who seemed impervious to her blade. His

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balls were still vulnerable, however. With unerring accuracy, Gandewitha brought her knee up between his legs and doubled him over. From that point, it was a matter of a quick downward thrust to end his mortal life. She glanced at Nohnohsot. He was finishing off another warrior, yet there were still so many Huron. Gandewitha’s eyes sought another target, then stilled as she saw a Huron deep in the forest raise his bow. He aimed directly at Nohnohsot. Struggling with his foe, Nohnohsot’s back was turned—a sheer and gleaming expanse of flesh that a skilled Huron brave could not miss. “Nooooo…” The scream tore from Gandewitha’s throat as she ran to Nohnohsot, knocking him aside and free of his opponent. He fell, tumbling with knife upraised, sinking the final blow in the Huron as they both toppled to the ground. Gandewitha’s heart leapt for joy as she realized Nohnohsot was unharmed. Then an odd sensation began to creep over her limbs, slowing her down, draining her strength and her vitality. “Gandewitha…oh Gandewitha…what have you done?” Nohnohsot’s voice seemed to come from a long way away and she turned stiffly to look at his face beneath her on the ground. As her head lowered, she noticed something strange. The end of a Huron arrow was sticking from her body, just beneath her breast. “Oh gods…” She dropped to her knees and the world darkened around her. Strong arms enfolded her, but she could no longer see faces or much of anything. Raindrops pattered down and she thought she heard the rumble of thunder. Or perhaps it was Nohnohsot’s heart as he held her close. 112

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“Gandewitha, my love, my only…don’t leave me. Gandewitha, please…why did you…somebody help me…” Nohnohsot’s voice trembled in her ear and she reached blindly out to touch his body once more. “You are safe. It’s all that matters.” “I do not wish to be safe without you. I cannot live without you.” He sobbed the words even as the thunder broke free, a savage ripping peal that whipped around them, drowning the sounds of the battle. “I love you. My soul will be with you forever…” With difficulty, Gandewitha opened her eyes and focused on the only thing that mattered to her, the only thing that had ever mattered to her in her entire life— Nohnohsot. Tears were falling freely down his cheeks and she let herself drown in the love she saw within the moist brown depths of his gaze. She parted her lips on a smile…then his face faded from her sight…all became dark and turbulent… And Gaia jerked to wakefulness, a sob of pain and agony choking her throat.

***** Ned stirred at the sound of Gaia crying, pulling his head back from the dream with difficulty, almost amazed to find himself sitting on his own apartment floor and with a full head of hair instead of a punk-rocker’s crest. “Holy fucking shit.” He breathed the words as he moved, uncramping his legs and reaching for Gaia, picking her up bodily and sitting back down in the chair with her on his lap. “Gaia. You okay? Gaia?” He pushed her hair away from her face and stroked her cheek, hating the whimpers and sobs that tore at her body. “Baby, come on. Come back to me, honey…it’s okay…”

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He muttered words that made no sense, babbling, trying to comfort her even as his own grief ripped chunks from his heart and the adrenaline rush of a Seneca warrior in battle seeped from his muscles. He’d been there. He’d seen it all, fought as savagely as any brave, knowing all the things that Seneca fighters knew. The feel of his bow, his knife—all familiar to him now. Ned trembled as the realization washed over him like a wave of memories. Up to now his dreams had been erotic, but vague in the details other than Gandewitha. As of this moment, Ned knew better. In however long they’d been asleep, a different life had unfolded within his mind, a life he’d lived—or one of his ancestors had lived—rich with sensations, smells, experiences and the curse of battle. He was shaken to his core and could only hold Gaia tightly against him, wondering if her dreams had been like this all along. “Gaia, sweetheart. It’s okay. We’re back. We’re here, together.” He kissed her head, her nose, hugged her close—tried to ease her shivering with the heat of his chest. The fire had died down, but damned if he was going to let go of her to put another log on it. Not until she was recovered. She moved a little, burying even closer to him, gripping his shirt with her hands. “Ned?” “Yes, baby. I’m here. Holding you tight. It’s over. We’re awake now.” His hand reached out for his favorite blanket and he wrapped it around them both, tucking them into a rapidly warming cocoon of comfort. “It’s okay.” He wondered at his words. Was it okay? Would it ever be okay again? “Oh God…” She clutched at him and burst into tears, weeping as if her heart would break. Her grief tore at Ned and his own tears overflowed. Together they held each other and cried, sharing the overwhelming emotions of a time long ago—of lovers long since departed from the face of the Earth.

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Eventually the storm eased, leaving them both limp and sniffly. “I need a tissue.” Gaia wiped a hand across her face. “Me too.” Ned struggled awkwardly with the confining blanket and a lapful of teary woman as he extended one arm and grabbed a convenient box, pulling it back up and passing it to Gaia. “I like that you have tissues handy.” She took two and blew her nose. “Organized.” “Allergies. Buddy of mine has a cat. Whenever he comes to visit, I sneeze for two days straight afterward.” Ned wiped the tears off her cheeks. “How ya doing, sweetheart?” She sucked in a shuddering breath, reminding Ned of a child recovering from a bout of weeping. He hugged her close. “I’ll make it. I think.” She rested her head against him. “That was rough, Ned.” “Jesus, tell me about it. You try taking on a herd of Huron or whatever they’re called.” His words surprised a choke of laughter from her. “You’re alive. That’s all that matters.” Her hand crept up to cradle his cheek. “You’re alive. You’re real. You’re here.” She brushed away the last of his tears. Ned leaned into her palm. “Yes. We’re both alive. We’re both here.” He touched her face, turning it toward him. “We’re both very real, Gaia.” Slowly, he lowered his lips to hers, desperate to taste her, to reassure them both that they were, in fact, alive—sitting in a quiet Cambridge apartment, not creeping through a forest full of danger. “Ned—” She breathed his name against his mouth before opening hers and welcoming him inside. He moaned, a definite sound of need and desire, a full-throated moan that surprised him. He couldn’t ever recall moaning quite like that before.

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But, then again, he had just watched the woman he loved fade to nothing in his arms while standing practically naked in a rainstorm amongst a bunch of Native American warriors carving each other into filets. The past was all well and good, but right now, Ned was happy to keep it where it was. In the past. He had Gaia in the here and now. And he wanted her, more than words or dreams could ever describe. She kissed him hungrily, her hands freeing themselves from his embrace and reaching around his neck to pull him close. Their tongues clashed and caressed, then clashed once more, dueling with each other as their bodies shifted and moved in a struggle to close whatever little distance still lay between them. “Gaia…” He couldn’t seem to stop saying her name, breathing it into her mouth, whispering it against her skin, drinking in her shivers as his hands wandered all over her body, touching her heat, reassuring himself she was there—alive. “Yes.” She gripped his shirt and fumbled with his buttons, slipping her hands inside to his chest and running them over his skin, strumming his nipples with her thumbs. “Oh, yes.” “Are you sure?” He held her wrists for a second, stilling her, staring deeply into her shadowed eyes. She looked back at him, need and desire lighting the dark brown irises. Then she smiled. “Doctor’s orders.” It was all Ned needed to break the leash on his hunger for her. He ripped off his own shirt, then tugged at hers, pulling it away rapidly and tossing her bra onto the floor after it. “Yes.” He cupped one breast, weighing it, teasing her nipple now, making it harden with each stroke of his thumb. “Yes. Here. And now. Right this minute.”

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“I can’t wait, Ned…” Gaia lifted herself and pushed down her skirt and panties, stripping herself eagerly, sitting astride him as her busy hands threw clothing everywhere and began undressing him too. He sucked in air as she tore his zipper downward, barely avoiding snagging his cock. “Easy, babe. I need that…” “Then hurry up, goddammit…” Ned raised his hips and struggled from his jeans and briefs, Gaia holding herself above him, watching him, reaching for his hard length seconds after it sprang free of his clothing. He groaned as she stroked him. “Shit, that’s so good.” His feet kicked the clothes away, leaving them exactly where they both wanted to be. Naked and wrapped around each other. Gaia leaned in, rubbing herself over his skin, sighing as their bodies touched so intimately. Her pussy pressed down onto his cock and she gently stroked him, a slow waltz of her hips along his sensitive arousal, moistening him as her juices began to flow in response to his caresses. He suckled one breast, teasing the nipple, biting gently down on it and smiling around the soft swell as she gasped. “Mmm.” He hummed, feeling the vibrations of the sound travel through Gaia. “Fuck me, Ned. I want you inside me so bad right now…I can’t begin to find the words…” Her hips ground against him as he positioned himself beneath her pussy and reached for his cock. “Take me, then, I’m here. I want to be inside you, fucking you, I don’t want it ever to end…” He lifted the head to her swollen flesh, wet and heated and parting as he arched his back a little and pushed his hips upward. She sank slowly down, embracing his cock with little whimpers of need, enveloping all of him in a boiling slick of silken fire, not stopping until her body was nested snugly against his. 117

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He held her there, hands on her hips, just savoring this brief instant of bliss. “There you are. Around me. Holding me inside you. Alive…” His voice trembled as a flash of her dying blinked through his brain. “Yes. Here we are, Ned. Together. Joined by more than just this…” She clenched her inner muscles and he grunted. “Like that, huh?” “Honey, you have no idea…” “Oh, I do. I really do.” She began to move, gently at first and Ned let her, releasing his grip on her hips as he encouraged her to ride him. She was all passion and lust and woman, her scent rich and fragrant, her body parting and melding with his in a rhythm that seemed so natural, so perfect, it took Ned’s breath away. He touched her, finding her clit with one hand as he steadied her with the other. He strummed her slick skin, keeping her moving while he played, listening to her gurgles of pleasure and choking mutters of arousal. They were counterpoints to the sounds their bodies made as they met, parted and met once more. It was a fucking made even more intense by their earlier experiences. A mating of two souls who had been cruelly torn apart, only to find each other once more—to love once more, to claim each other’s bodies in the way that only they could know. Ned’s soul soared as his balls tightened. He was alive—Gaia was alive—his legs may have been close to cramping and his spine was getting bruised by the spring in the back of his old recliner, but they were alive. He was getting to love this woman once more, fuck her once more, again and again maybe, as many times as he could persuade her to let him claim her. Her breath was quickening, her head falling back as her body tensed around his cock and beneath his hands. “Ned, please…”

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He was right there with her. He knew exactly what those two little words meant. He thrust upward urgently, pulling her down to meet him and catching her clit with his thumb as they crashed into each other. She screamed, a shuddering howl of passion unleashed, at the exact moment he exploded into her, his balls thudding painfully as they emptied themselves down his cock and into Gaia’s cunt. He thrust again, needing to bury himself in so much more than just her sex. He wanted his mark on her heart—on her soul. She clamped around him, her orgasm ripping through her and into his cock, matching his own intense responses with taut ripples of her own. Whimpering, Gaia clutched at his shoulders to hold herself up, fingers digging into him as she rode the crest of her release into calmer waters. He watched her face as his own orgasm began to ease, amazed at how the tension in her expression relaxed into the soft aftermath of their loving. Her body sagged and, within a moment or two, Ned found himself once more cradling the warm and willing body of his Seneca lover, Gandewitha. His Gaia. His woman. His heart. “Hello.” She lifted her head and gazed sleepily at him. “Hello yourself.” He grinned. “You okay?” She sighed. “Bit of a cramp in one knee, but overall, I’d say this was the best prescription for anything that’s ever ailed me.” She yawned. “Remind me to send a thank-you note to the Doctor.” He chuckled, tucking the fluffy throw around them once more. “I will.” A thought occurred to him, freezing his hands in their tracks. “Um, honey? Poor time to bring this up, but I didn’t use protection.” Gaia barely stirred. “I know. I loved feeling you—all of you—inside me like that. Skin to skin.”

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Ned gulped, a bolt of lust shooting through him and doing its best to wake up his cock once more. It had been amazing, no doubt about it. “But…” He paused, unwilling to destroy what was obviously a “moment” she was enjoying. A tiny giggle shook her shoulders. “I’m not worried. I’m protected against pregnancy, Ned. But thank you for your concern, even though it is a bit late.” They sat together quietly then, sharing soft touches and the occasional brush of lips, the aftermath of so much more than their loving washing over them in all its ripe and rich colors like the blanket that covered them. “Gaia.” Ned broke the silence. “Mmm?” “You loved me enough to die for me long ago.” He swallowed. “Can you love me enough to live with me now?” She turned, her eyes wide as she watched him speak. “Can you get past what I do and understand what I feel for you? Is it too much to ask?” He touched her cheek, her hair, gentle caresses he hoped would tell her more than his words. “Can you accept me as I am and be with me? Not just for this moment—but for as long as we have?” Her expression was somber as she touched him back. “Can you accept me? Understand my life, my way of thinking?” He smiled then, a weight lifting from his soul. “Sweetheart, your passion for life and living things makes you what you are. Makes you the woman I loved long ago and the woman I love now. I wouldn’t want to change you, just understand you better.” “Me too.” She eased against his shoulder, looking at him thoughtfully. “And I guess we’re really not that far apart on our viewpoints when it comes down to the fundamentals, are we?” “No, we aren’t.” Ned nodded his agreement.

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“How are we going to manage?” He grinned. “Who’s being practical now?” “Well, there’s a lot to think about here if we’re going to make this work—” “Do you love me?” “Yes. I love you.” Ned lifted a finger and laid it gently across Gaia’s lips. “Then we will make this work. We’ll find a way. Love always does.”

Gaia Jackson lifted her face and accepted the promise of their future, delivered by means of a kiss from her lover, Dr. Ned Harper. Somewhere back in the mists of time, knots unkinked themselves and a little bit of the Universe heaved a sigh of relief. Love would indeed find a way. It always does.

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Epilogue

Although that’s really the end of the story for Ned and Gaia… There are always a few loose ends that need to be tied up. Yes, Ned and Gaia made it work. For the first year, they commuted regularly up and down from Boston to Washington, racking up frequent flyer miles that they used for long weekends and holidays in warm places when they both could get away. The Logan-Reagan shuttle managed to land on schedule at least twice during that period, shocking them both into stunned silence for at least five minutes. They talked for hours on the phone and saw each other a lot more frequently than they’d anticipated when going into the relationship. The sex was, as always in these stories, magnificent. After all, they’d had a couple of lifetimes to learn about each other’s preferences and get it right. Eventually, Ned’s work came to the attention of a highly regarded research institute in Virginia and he accepted their offer to come and work for them, regretting only the fact that he had to leave Gina’s place and find them a new Italian restaurant. Gina wasn’t willing to deliver quite that far. He and Gaia married not long afterward and were happy to have Dr. Jake Corvo and his wife Renny attend the little ceremony. Renny, who was close to eight months pregnant, announced that this would be her last public function. Henceforth, she was going to go hide in a cave someplace, lest she shoot the next person to tell her she was glowing, when in fact she was fat, uncomfortable and had lost her ankles several months before. Jake just grinned.

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And we shall give Jake and Renny the last words, since their story began this whole eventful train of events… “Birds, huh?” “It’s a theory. Just a theory.” Jake was rubbing his wife’s ankles as she breathed rhythmically. “Okay. Tell me about it.” “Now?” Jake blinked. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on finding your happy place or something?” “Fuck you, Jake Corvo.” Renny’s lips peeled from her teeth in a grimace as another contraction contorted her belly. “We did already. That’s what got us to this point in the first place.” “Jaaaaaake…” “Okay, okay.” He glanced at the clock, trying to remember when the last one hit her. Shit, this delivery stuff was damned hard on everybody. “Birds.” He dragged his last functioning brain cell back on track, letting the others run around with their mouths open, screaming loudly. “The key to these folks and their dreams seems to lie in birds or with birds. For us, it was the ravens. For Marianne, a nightingale. And now Gaia, Ned and the Heron clan.” “Your point?” Renny tried to sound interested through clenched teeth. “Don’t really know that I have one, yet, but it’s more than a coincidence. Perhaps there’s some resonance in a bird that can contain some memory, some electromagnetic disturbance that only occurs during passion to which the avian brain is receptive.” “That is the most farfetched thing I think I’ve ever heard you say.” She bit back a cry. “Easy, sweetheart. Just relax.” Renny’s gaze carved him up one side and down the other. “Okay. The most farfetched thing you’ve ever said—until you said that.”

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He sighed. “I love you.” His wife summoned up a little answering smile. “I love you too.” She winced again. “But we are not naming this kid Raven. Okay?” Jake Corvo smiled and touched the little alabaster charm that matched the one his wife wore around her neck. They were symbols of a soul-deep passion that had traveled in strange and wonderful ways to arrive here—now—moments before a new life would enter the world. He wondered if there were other people out there struggling with dreams. Most probably. Perhaps a few might find him, let him help them as he’d helped Ned and Gaia, and before them Marianne Donovan. He enjoyed it, feeling it was part of his duty to pay back the debt he owed somebody-up-there for uniting him with Renny, the other half of his soul. But his meditation on the subject was short lived, since a few minutes later, amidst all the usual pandemonium surrounding such an event, a new voice made itself heard, a brand new pair of lungs filled with the first breaths of life—and Jake Corvo was stunned to find himself holding his son in his arms. He stared into sleepily blinking blue eyes and his heart flowered strangely, a blend of confusion, pain and an emotion that was too rich, too new to grasp fully, but would become fatherhood. Yes, the Universe pretty much had things under control. Love will always find a way.

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About the Author Sahara Kelly was transplanted from old England to New England where she now lives with her husband and teenage son. Making the transition from her historical regency novels to Romantica™ has been surprisingly easy, and now Sahara can’t imagine writing anything else. She is dedicated to the premise that everybody should have fantasies.

Sahara welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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Also by Sahara Kelly A Kink In Her Tails A Watch of Nightingales All Night Video: For Research Purposes Only All Night Video: At Cross Purposes An Unkindness of Ravens Anasazi Lassie Beating Level Nine By Shadows Bound Detour, written with S.L. Carpenter Ellora’s Cavemen: Dreams of the Oasis II anthology Flame of Shadows Game Over Georgie and Her Dragon The Glass Stripper Guardians of Time 1: Alana’s Magic Lamp Guardians of Time 2: Finding The Zero-G Spot The Gypsy Lovers Hansell and Gretty Haunting Love Alley, written with S.L. Carpenter The Knights Elemental Lyndhurst and Lydia Madam Charlie Magnus Ravynne and Mistress Swann Mesmerized Mystic Visions Partners In Passion 1: Justin and Eleanor, written with S.L. Carpenter Partners In Passion 2: No Limits, written with S.L. Carpenter Partners In Passion 3: Pure Sin, written with S.L. Carpenter Persephone’s Wings Peta And The Wolfe Scars of the Lash

Scars of the Soul Shadows of Thérese Sizzle The Sun God’s Woman Tales of the Beau Monde 1: Lying With Louisa Tales of the Beau Monde 2: Miss Beatrice’s Bottom Tales of the Beau Monde 3: Lying With Louisa Tales of the Beau Monde 4: Pleasuring Miss Poppy Wingin’ It

Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

www.ellorascave.com