smiled. Her teeth were very white, and very sharp. And not so little any more.
Slowly, tantalizingly, she lowered herself down on him and took his length inside her. He felt the heat radiate through his body.
'Good?' she said, her breath moist on his face.
He could not answer.
She began to ride slowly up and down on him, pausing at the top just before he would have slipped out, then sinking gradually to swallow him up again.
Malcolm closed his eyes, giving himself to the sensations of his body. Sitting on him, riding him, Lupe stepped up the rhythm and the vigour of their joinings until her buttocks smacked his upper thighs with a report like a pistol shot.
His climax came a second before hers. She dropped down on him, her arms wrapped about his neck, nails digging furrows in his back. They cried out together and rolled back and forth over the king-size bed until his seed was spent. Then they continued to cling to each other like drowning children as their breathing slowly returned to normal. Lupe was the first to speak. 'I told you you'd never had a woman like me.'
'Mmmm,' was all Malcolm could manage.
'It gets better.'
'I don't believe it.'
'Oh, yes. When you really know about yourself, and about what we are, there are ways to make it much better.'
Malcolm opened his eyes. He rolled to one side and pushed the woman away. 'You said you'd take me where Derak went with Holly.'
'Did I say that?' Lupe's eyes danced with mischief. 'I don't know why you're so anxious to see Derak.'
'We have to settle something.'
'You're not thinking of challenging him?'
'Why not?'
'Because you are just a pup. Derak has been a leader of his people for a long time. You're lucky he has let you come this far on your own.'
'Let me?'
'Of course he has. He could have taken you many times over the past year.'
'Then why didn't he?'
'You don't know?'
'I'm asking.'
'Because he is your father.'
Malcolm sat up and stared at her. Derak, his father? The knowledge hit him like a fist. Malcolm knew him as a leader, a teacher, one to be respected. And perhaps feared. But a father? How was it possible? He felt closer to Holly, to Jones, to Bateman Styles than he did to the quiet-spoken man with the deep green eyes.
'Don't start thinking that makes you too special,' Lupe went on. 'Derak was father to half the children in the village of Drago. Of course, many of them did not survive the fire. Maybe that is why he is so patient with you.'
'And my mother?' he said.
'She died in the fire. You must not think of her. It is not important, as you will learn.'
He swung his feet off the bed and began putting on his clothes. 'Take me to Derak now,' he said.
Lupe reached over and slid a hand between his bare buttocks. 'So soon? We've just got started.'
He stood up, moving back out of her reach. 'You're wrong, we're finished. Let's go.'
'You mean you had your fun and now you're through?' she said petulantly. 'What about me?'
He glared at her. 'You promised.'
She patted the damp sheet beside her. 'Come back. Once more, then I will take you to Derak and your lady friend.'
He cinched the belt buckle tight and crossed to the door. 'If you won't help me, I'll find them myself.'
'Go ahead, if you think you can,' Lupe taunted him from the bed. 'But it will be much nicer in here with me.'
'The hell with you.'
He went out and slammed the door. The night surrounded him. He looked at the lonely cars crouching like abandoned beasts in the painted spaces. The lights were out now in all the rooms, except the one where Lupe waited. Malcolm felt terribly alone.
He walked back past the motel units to where the land sloped up into the foothills. Up there somewhere was Derak, and he had Holly with him. But where? How to find them in all that expanse of dark, rolling country? The boy's doubts made the night even colder.
The he heard it. The howling.
Unmistakeably, it was a call to him. Malcolm closed his eyes. He sniffed the air. Small, invisible changes happened inside his body, and the night was not so cold any more.
When he opened his eyes, their green colour had deepened. He started confidently up into the hills.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Gavin Ramsay sat staring at the little digital clock on his desk in La Reina County sheriffs office. He caught himself counting the seconds as they ticked by, and angrily turned the face of the clock away from him.
All right, so Holly Lang did not call last night. That didn't mean anything. There were a hundred reasons she might not have telephoned him. Yeah, he told himself grimly, and about fifty of them were bad news.
The new, slimmed-down version of Deputy Roy Nevins came into the office. His leather gleamed, his uniform was freshly pressed. He was shaved, trimmed, and looked maybe ten years younger than he had a year ago. Gavin marvelled at the varying effect exposure to violence had on different people.
'Any action, Roy?' he asked.
'Not to speak of. Somebody used the deer-crossing sign for target practice again. I collared a speeder from LA trying out his new Porsche. Had to break up a couple of guys who had pulled off the road to do some smooching.'
'Couple of guys?'
'I should have mentioned that they were from San Francisco.'
'Oh, well.'
Nevins sat down to type out his report in two-finger machine-gun style. Ramsay sighed and turned the clock back around to face him. The hell with this. He was worried, and there was no use pretending he wasn't. He picked up the phone and direct-dialed the number of the Silverdale Motel.
The female voice that answered had a pleasant, foreign sounding lilt.
'Is there a Dr Hollanda Lang registered there?' he asked.
'Yes, sir. She in Room 12. I ring for you.'
He listened while the line buzzed five times in his ear.
'Sorry sir, she not answer.'
'This is Sheriff Gavin Ramsay of La Reina County. I'd like you to take a look in Dr Lang's room to see if she's all right.'
'Is something wrong with lady?' The woman's voice rose several tones.
'There's no reason to think so,' he said soothingly, 'but I'd appreciate it if you would take a look.'
'Yes, yes, I look. You want I call you back?'
'I'll hold on,' Ramsay said.
There was a clunk as the receiver was set down on the other end. Ramsay counted seconds on the clock for five minutes. Roy Nevins had stopped hammering the typewriter and was watching him.
'Hello, Sheriff?' The sudden return of the voice in his ear startled him for a moment.
'Yes.'
'I look in room. Nobody there. Lady's clothes put away all neat. Car outside. Maybe she walk down the road
