Catherine Coulter - The Edge

I remembered Cal saying that she never wanted to go anywhere near the cemetery, that the trees were growing inward, pushing so close that the roots probably had split through the coffins. I'd thought she was nuts then. Now I was hearing things, and terrifying myself. Jesus, I was losing it.

I walked to the cliff and stood looking out over the flat, black water. It went forever, well beyond those distant low dark clouds that tricked the eye, making it appear that the water simply disappeared into them. Looking north and south, I could make out the coastline- primeval mists, driftwood strewn over and sprawled out in piles on the beach. Black rocks rose out of the water like misshapen sentinels, groups of them hovering, just below me, the water scaling them, then crashing back, gushing white foam.

Again and again, never stopping, never changing. I thought about what it would be like to be here every day of my life and wondered if my soul would be calmed, or if I'd go mad.

I turned to go back, pausing a moment to get my bearings. Seagull Cottage sat at the very end of a narrow, rutted dirt road, winding south and west toward the cliff, just to this small cottage. I couldn't see the half-mile back to the road this one split off from. There were no car headlights that 1 could see even in the distance. I walked to the back of the cottage, checked the windows, and looked south to the wild barren hills that rose and fell as far as I could see. Anyone could hike to the cottage over those soulless hills. I didn't like it. I wondered if we weren't the biggest fools in Oregon, staying here right in Tarcher's face. I was putting my life on the line, but more important, putting Laura in danger as well. I shook my head. I wasn't going to back down and I couldn't imagine Laura backing away now either.

I looked at the cottage. All the windows were secure, covered with patterned cotton curtains, faded from many years in the sun. There was nothing else I could do.

My head had started aching again. No wonder. My body felt like it had been hit by a wrecking ball. I was so tired I could barely stand. But I also felt jumpy.

When I walked into the small bedroom, Laura was standing in a long nightgown by the side of the bed, looking at me.

"Hi," she said, her voice deep and rich, making that small word sound sexy as hell. I was at her side in just under four steps. She moved against me, raised her face, and kissed my mouth.

In an instant my fatigue was gone. I'd known this woman for a matter of days and I wanted her more than any woman I'd ever met in my life. There were no more lies between us, I thought, not a single one.

My hands were all over her, in her hair, stroking and rubbing that thick smooth hair on my face even as I kissed her, and down her back, cupping her tightly against me.

"This is crazy right now," I said, and smiled at her beautiful face, now flushed with color. She was breathing fast, as excited as I was.

"Crazy is as crazy does," she said, bit my ear, hooked her leg behind mine, and knocked me onto my back on the bed. She fell on top of me, kissing me, yanking on my hair to get more of me. I was kissing her and laughing at the same time. I was roaring with power.

I had my clothes off in just under a minute and her nightgown over her head and tossed to the far corner of the small bedroom in another two seconds flat. "I don't believe this," I said, looking at her, wanting all of her at once, not knowing where to start. She laughed as she kissed me and then her hands were all over me.

We were laughing and moaning together when I came into her and she arched up sharply, biting and licking my neck, nipping me with little kisses. I forced myself to stop. "I've got to get a grip here," I said, "I just want to feel you around me. God, Laura, I've wanted to make love with you from the moment I saw you talking to that teenage boy in the library."

"I wanted you over the chicken satay," she said and tightened her arms around my back. "Yes, hold still, Mac, and let me feel you. I hadn't imagined this tonight, I really hadn't, I-" She climaxed. I watched the pleasure take her, felt her tightening around me and knew I couldn't hold on much longer. Wonderful thing was, it didn't matter. In a frenzy, I joined her.

"It's the two of us now, Laura."

"That's more than fine by me," she said. "I'm really glad you came to the library, even if you don't know a thing about Latvian drug wars."

At ten minutes after one o'clock in the morning, we were both awake again, still not going slow and easy but frenetic and urgent. There wasn't any laughter this time, just the darkness surrounding us, Laura's lovely flesh, and the lovely groans coming from her mouth. Afterward I came up on my elbows and touched my forehead to hers. "It's all over for me, Laura."

"Yes, I can feel that it is."

The damned woman had the gall to laugh.

"That isn't what I meant."

"I know." She kissed my chin, bit my earlobe, and polished it by chopping my elbows so that I fell on top of her again. She wrapped her arms tightly around my back and held me close. "It was over for me, Mac, when you walked into the reference section and made me laugh with the first thing out of your mouth. The truth is, for me, this is a rather incredible thing."

"Yes, for me as well. I just wish we could have met in a more normal way. Getting poisoned and shot at during the courting period tends to make a guy look over his shoulder a whole lot, and it wasn't even your dad."

"I forced it on you. Every time I think of all the lies I told you-had to tell you-it makes me furious and sad.

Promise me that you've forgiven me."

"Since I'm lying naked on top of you and you've kissed me just about everywhere, I guess I'll have to.

But no more lies or evasions, Laura, ever. Okay?"

"I promise. Now you make me a promise, Mac. Promise me that everything's going to turn out okay."

"I can promise you that we're going to survive this, Laura. But how can it ultimately end well if Jilly's involved?"

She kissed me again in answer, and we fell asleep, her warm breath against my neck.

I had incredible dreams.

There were werewolves prowling around outside the cottage, but they weren't trying to peer in.

I came awake suddenly to the sound of loud banging on wood, and a voice calling out.

My brain woke up in high gear. I pulled on old cotton sweats, grabbed my SIG off the nightstand, and eased out of bed. Laura was still asleep, sprawled on her back. She was naked and my hands were on her before I could stop myself. I covered her quickly.

Daylight hadn't made it through the curtained windows. It was dull gray and cold in the small living room, the fire in the grate long cold. Where was Grubster?

Someone banged on the door again. "Open up. Come on, Mac, open the bloody door."

I recognized that irritated, sweet voice. I jerked the chair away from under the doorknob, turned the lock, and pulled open the door. Standing on the small porch was Special Agent Lacy Savich, known as Sherlock by everyone except her parents. Early-morning sunlight backlighted her. With all that red hair, she looked like a Titian painting come to life.

She was on me in an instant, hugging me tight. "Hi, Mac," she said, drawing back, giving me a big smile.

"My angel," I said, grabbing her up in my arms, and swinging her around. "I hadn't expected you this soon. What did you do, immediately hop a plane?"

She kissed my ear. "Yes, we took the red-eye." Then she said over my shoulder, "Hello, who are you?"

I let Sherlock slowly back down on her feet. We turned together to see Laura, in her sweats, her hair tangled around her flushed face, Grubster curling around her bare feet.

"So soon, Mac?"

"This is Sherlock, Laura. I got her through her final physical exam at the Academy. She would have failed miserably if I hadn't been there."