Chapter 8 - Deeper and Deeper
Mmmm, she was comfy. She lay with her eyes closed, buried deeply under the covers, snuggled up to something wonderfully warm. She snuggled closer to the warm bulk beside her - which moved abruptly, sliding downward and away. She opened her eyes a crack- oh, it was okay, Taura was just shifting on to her back. Taura lifted her arm as she turned, and Tara tucked her head under it, rested her cheek on the softness of bosom, grasped a handful of fluffy robe, and pressed it against her cheek. "Mmm," she said.
Taura's arm pressed against her back, and her hand moved lower to splay across Tara's ass and press her more tightly against her side. Tara rolled obediently, and her knee touched Taura's leg. The hand continued to press, and she moved her leg to drape it across Taura's thigh. She felt her robe open, and her body press against smooth firmly-muscled flesh. "Mmm," she said again.
The hand was moving now, it spread across her buttocks as big as a baseball glove, very gently squeezing and pressing. She felt her legs splay open more. A second huge hand appeared on her waist, pushed her robe away, and then slid up her body, to her breast. A large thumb ran across her nipple and she gasped, then she felt her whole breast swallowed in a firm grip, and her nipple caught between finger and thumb, which began to rub gently together. The sensation was incredible. The hand on her ass grasped and lifted her, and she was riding Taura's thigh, which rose up to meet her. She felt a long clawed finger running down the cleft between her buttocks, sliding deeper, running swiftly downward, and then burrowing down to where she was splayed against the long length of Taura's thigh. Every drop of blood in her body seemed to have settled in her pussy; she could hear her herself distantly, groaning, and rocking, her face buried in the softness of Taura's robed shoulder, her body suspended on Taura's strong limbs. The waves of feeling were so intense she was having trouble thinking, until the hand holding her breast relaxed its grip, and slid down her belly towards her legs, and the hand already there lifted her up to meet it, long, long fingers slid inside her and there was no thought left.
Tara lay sweating, breathing ragged, body trembling. Taura's right arm rested loosely across her back. As she caught her breath, she nuzzled against Taura's robe, found an opening to her skin, and planted a kiss. She could feel Taura's heart pounding, not quite as wild as her own, but faster, deeper.
"Ungh," she said. "That was... unexpected. But very, very nice."
There was no answer. Taura still lay beneath her. Has she fallen asleep? I must be giving her pins and needles at least. She slid very gently off Taura's recumbent form, and out from under her right arm, and wriggled up the bed to poke her head out from under the covers. Taura lay on her back, her head pressed firmly against the pillow, her eyes hidden in the shadow cast by her brows. Tara pulled herself further up the bed and rested her head on the pillow beside Taura. Her profile was formidable - jutting planes and angles, an outline of an upper fang. Tara reached out a hand to gently brush away the tangles of hair from Taura's forehead. Her braid was undone, and dark hair frizzed in every direction. After a couple of vain attempts to smooth it down, Tara desisted, and ran her fingers instead over the heavy brow ridge, across Taura's eyebrow. She turned and kissed Taura lightly on the cheek, "Sleep well, sweetheart."
"I'm not asleep." Taura's head turned to face her, eyes glowing, face unreadable as a Easter Island statue.
"Oh," squeaked Tara, "I thought..." With the silence, and the not-hugging and the not-kissing. "I thought you must be asleep."
She leant over and kissed Taura on the lips, a little awkwardly - the fangs tended to get in the way.
Taura didn't respond.
"Taura," said Tara gently, trying not to feel hurt, "Is something wrong?"
"No." Taura shifted in the bed. "You wanted to have sex, didn't you?"
There was something accusing about her tone. Tara felt a humiliating blush creep up her cheeks. She pulled away, and sat up in the bed, pulling her robe around her. "I - yes, I did." There were a hundred things she wanted to say, all angry. She bit them down, tried to understand what had gone wrong, started again. "Didn't you want to? I mean, I just woke up, and, and you started it." Oh God - I said 'you started it' - I can't believe I said that.
Taura rolled onto her back again, breaking eye contact. "Yes, and so, we had sex. And nothing's wrong."
Tara drew a deep breath. Yet again, something was going on here that she didn't understand. And I'm tired - I'm tired of always being somewhere, doing something I don't understand. I don't understand why we just did that, and now she's angry at me. And it's not fair. She felt tears prick under her eyelids, and squeezed her eyes shut to stop them. She opened her mouth, "Well, we didn't really have sex, as such, did we? You just, you know..." She stopped, angry at herself for not being able to be more explicit. She drew a deep breath. I can say this, "You just gave me a hand job, basically."
Taura drew a deep, ragged breath. "Not good enough for you?" Her face turned cold and angry, "I can go down on you if you want - it you're not afraid I'll bite something off." She threw back the covers and got abruptly to her feet, sliding off her bathrobe, magnificently naked, seeming to fill all the space in the tiny room. "I'm having another shower," she said.
"No, you're not!"
Taura turned, her hand on the doorknob, her brows drawn formidably together.
Tara trembled slightly. Wow, that came out louder than I intended. "You are not leaving until we can sort this out a bit more," she said firmly.
"Stop me," said Taura, and she marched out of the door, and slammed it behind her.
…………
Tara sat in the bed, robe clutched at her throat, her stomach churning. She wanted to leave, now, and be as far away from Taura as possible. Only if I did run, where would I go? I'm trapped here, chained to Taura by her summoning. And if I lose her, will I disappear? The terror of that thought caught in her throat. She beat it down. So, I can stay here, take whatever Taura dishes out, or run off down the street like an idiot, or... she drew a deep breath... or, I can make her talk to me, explain what the hell is going on - with her, and, and with everything. God, I really, really don't want to do this.
But she got up, pulled the front of her robe together and belted it firmly, then walked out into the main room and over to the bathroom door. She hesitated, listening to the hiss of water the other side of the door, then hit the keypad firmly. The door drew back, and the shower turned itself abruptly off. Taura looked around, startled, and then ostentatiously turned her back again. "Go away," she said, the muscles in her back tensed, "I'm showering."
"No you aren't," said Tara. "The water won't come on unless I shut the door again."
Taura swung back to her, her fangs showing in a ferocious snarl. "I can make you shut the door."
Tara stood her ground, despite an almost overwhelming desire to run. "And I can burn a hole in it if it you do. I don't know what this morning was about," she said, hoping her voice didn't tremble, "but I think you owe me an explanation about a lot of things. That included."
Taura took two angry steps towards her, soapy water running in streaks down her breasts and belly. Her shoulders were rigid with tension, and her hands were clenching and unclenching unconsciously. This close, her height, and sheer bulk was overwhelmingly intimidating. The ancient part of Tara's brain was screaming at her to run, run now! But I'm dead already, she thought stubbornly, she can't kill me. And I need to know stuff. Taura's huge hands closed around her shoulders, and she jumped.
Taura's head tilted on one side, "You're in my shower. Uninvited. I think I'm entitled to move you." Her hands tightened, and lifted Tara slightly off her feet.
Tara shook her head stubbornly - it felt like a bag of sand, bobbing on her shoulders. Her teeth were beginning to chatter. "You summoned me," she said, "now you deal with it. In your shower, and out of it."
Taura stared down at her, the muscles in her arms bunching and trembling. Tara felt nails digging into her. Taura growled - a deep terrifying noise from deep in her throat, then she abruptly released Tara's shoulders, turned away, and slumped to the ground, her back against the bathroom wall, her head in her hands. "What do you want me to do?" she said.
Tara was gasping, adrenaline pumping through her. "I want you to finish your shower, she said. "And then I want you to talk to me. Because you really, really need to tell me exactly what is going on. I can't help you otherwise." She bent forward, and tilted Taura's huge chin very gently upward, and looked into her eyes - she was slowly getting accustomed to that hypnotic glow, it only made her jump a fraction this time.
Taura straightened up, and wiped her arm over her eyes and mouth, avoiding her still sore nose - looking just for a moment like a cute little kid. Then the hand moved away, and her dramatic features sprung back into prominence again.
"Nobody can help," she said miserably. "They've done real good already. But they've hit a full stop now. I thought for a long time I was probably going to die around thirty, thirty five, of old age. But Super Soldiers just aren't built to last." She took a deep breath, "The soft tissue in my body is breaking down. The walls of all the vessels and organs are getting weaker, and my metabolism is crazy, even with all the drugs. It's going to go critical very soon." She sniffed a little more. "I've been riding my luck for more than a decade, anyway - none of my clones lasted past sixteen. But Miles got me medical therapy and stuff, and I made it all the way to twenty-six." She looked away again. "He thinks he can fix it again, but he can't. So I did the ceremony with Duvitiski and asked for guidance."
Tara stared at her in shock, Twenty-six? No one should have to die when they were twenty-six. She sat down beside Taura, regardless of the wet floor. "This is why you did the ceremony to call on your spirit ancestor," she said suddenly, "because you knew you were dying?" She put her arm around Taura's shoulders, "Oh sweetheart, I think you really ran out of luck. I'm not being any use to you. I'm just running around, clutching at your coat tails." And every step I take it seems I get more lost.
"No!" said Taura, "It's my fault, dragging you into the middle of this stupid dogfight I've gotten myself into. You shouldn't drag a civilian into a war. I just didn't really think about what a Guardian Spirit would be like - except," she burst out, "I didn't expect a real person!"
Tara stood up again and began to pace in the tiny space. "No, you were expecting your spirit ancestor to be smart, weren't you? You know, all kinda Tao and Karmic - there to help you prepare for death and all? But I'm no smarter than the next person." She paused, "And when, when I died, I certainly wasn't ready for it - and I don't seem to remember anything at all about being dead - no getting all enlightened, and at one with the universe or whatever." She stopped and looked at Taura again, "I don't know how I got here," she said, "or what's going to happen to me, or even how I can help you with what you have to face. But I'll try, if you'd like that." She drew a deep breath, "and now, you need to rinse off, and get dressed, and then you can tell me about the dogfight, and we'll take it from there."
"You're right, about all of it..." said Taura. Her arms dangled loosely in her lap, her hair clung about her face
"Thanks," said Tara.
"...except for what you said before, about me being out of luck - that's wrong, I think I am lucky. "When I asked for an ancestor spirit, I was lucky to get you." Then a tentative little smile lit her face, "Just think, I could have ended up sharing a room with a ghost pony or something!"
Tara laughed despite herself, "Cimarron, Spirit of the Wind!" she said. "That would have been way more dramatic." Taura was grinning back at her, although she couldn't possibly know what that meant. Maybe that therapist chick had a point, thought Tara. Maybe joking about stuff is the only way to get through it sometimes. "I'm flattered you think you're lucky," she went on, as cheerfully as she could, "but so far I think it's you doing all the helping. And," she said gently, "I seem to have screwed up on the... personal front. I was looking at you because you're so beautiful, but I didn't think I was entitled or anything."
Taura's eyes flickered sideways, and away. "I'm sorry," she said, "I shouldn't have... but most often people act like I should be grateful if they want me. And then they're scared I'll hurt them - bite them or crush them to death or something. Not Miles," her face became distant, "but he's gone, and anyway, he was a kind of freak himself." She rose to her feet, arms clutched about her, and shivered a little.
"You're not a freak, and you're not a monster," said Tara firmly. "Let's be very clear on that." She smiled, "And now, I'm going to try and figure out how to make coffee in this place. If I haven't figured it out by the time you finish your shower, you get to make breakfast."