GLITTER GULCH

Chapter 3: The Bluebird of Happiness PART B

"You’ve hardly eaten anythin’. Aren’t you hungry?" Rowan said as he shoved the last of the potato into his mouth. Anubis shook his head and took another sip of his wine, holding the cold glass to his cheek. Shit! I’ve eaten everythin’ on my plate and some of his and talkin’ this entire time! He has got to be bored outta his skull. We’ve nearly drunk all the wine, too. No wonder I feel drowsy. That was the first thing I’ve eaten all day and that wine is somethin’ else.

Rowan glanced at Anubis. He didn’t seem to be affected by the wine. Matter of fact, he’s been listenin’ to everythin’ I’ve been babblin’ about. His gray eyes never seemed to leave Rowan. It was comforting in a way. Sage never listens ta me. He tells me I talk too much. But this guy isn’t Sage. He has the same "Don’t bother me" attitude, but there’s somethin’ different about him. Hmmm. Wonder what it would be like ta run my fingers through his long, wine-colored hair. Intoxicatin’, just like the wine.

Anubis raised a neatly trimmed eyebrow. "Are you all right?"

Rowan blinked. He’d been staring. "Uh, yeah. The wine’s getting’ ta me a little, I guess." I can feel the warmth of his body. He’s so close. I could move my hand just a centimeter and touch his thigh. Those legs. Even through the jeans, I can tell they’re well muscled. What would it feel like ta run my hand up and down his inner thigh? My fingers slidin’ over his body, strokin’ him. I wonder what his mouth tastes like. Those soft full lips touchin’ mine. I have ta find out. I wanna know.

Before Rowan could stop himself, he leaned forward and brushed Anubis’ lips with his own, planting a light but lingering kiss -- his tongue lightly grazing the soft lips. Silk. Wine. Exquisite…Not responding! Oh, shit. His eyes flew open. The other’s gray eyes were staring in surprise. Shit!

Rowan straightened and pulled back. "I’m so…"

Long delicate fingers touching the spot Rowan had kissed.

"…sorry. I shouldn’t…"

Hands reaching out and grabbing his face.

"…have done…"

Long delicate hands pulling him…

"…that. I…"

Gray eyes closing.

"…didn’t mean ta…"

::Fuck. He’s gonna hit me.:: Rowan scrunched his eyes closed. Lips pressed against his own. What?! His arms felt like lead weights until Anubis’ tongue pushed its way between his lips and plundered his mouth. Wine and cinnamon, that’s what he tastes like. He put his hand on Anubis’ chest, trying to push him away to catch his breath. But Anubis’ hand snaked its way behind his head and tangling itself in his blue locks, crushed Rowan’s mouth into his.

A fire was spreading through his body and he wanted more. He tried to edge closer to Anubis but the angle was just too awkward. He winced when the redhead tried to pull him closer.

"I can’t…Um…Maybe…"

"Stand up," Anubis growled.

Rowan’s body obeyed. The bartender swung one long, jean-clad leg over the bench.

"Now sit, facing me."

"That’s still too far…I…" ::I want to be close.::

Anubis leaned forward, firmly grabbing hold of Rowan’s ass, and pulled him forward. "Put your legs over mine."

Rowan did as he was told and Anubis pulled him in tight. He was straddling Anubis’ legs, his legs spread out to either side of the redhead’s hips. The heat of Anubis’ rigid sex burned through his jeans. Anubis had one hand in the small of his back and the other behind his head — each pulling him closer. The bartender leaned forward and began tonguing his neck — sending pleasure shivers up his spine. He buried his face in the silken, burgundy hair that smelled like ginger. He moaned as Anubis’ kisses traveled up to his ear, and he reached down and rubbed/stroked Anubis through his jeans. Anubis moaned and pushed his pelvis into his hand. Rowan began furiously trying to unbutton Anubis’ pants. He doesn’t wear anything underneath… He grasped Anubis’ sex and began to pull at it gently.

"Oh, god," Anubis breathed. "Rowan…"

Rowan was overcome with desire at the rasped sound of his name. He wanted to feel him in his mouth. He wanted to taste his release. He pushed back on Anubis’ chest, but the redhead grabbed his ass with both hands and held him firmly where he was. "But…"

"No. Not like that. I want you." Rowan’s face reddened and he felt as if he would suffocate in this warm embrace. "I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you," Anubis whispered in his ear. His heart leapt into his throat. "I wanted to feel your body against mine. Run my fingers through your blue mane and taste your lips." A tongue brushed against his neck and large, calloused hands began kneading his buttocks. "I long to know what if feels like to be inside you and to feel every inch of you inside of me. I want to suck you until you come in my mouth and feel the liquid heat run down my throat." Anubis was purring now, his words vibrating against Rowan’s throat.

Rowan reached up and began tearing at the front of Anubis’ shirt. A few of the buttons popped off. He wanted to see and feel the muscles of his chest. The bartender was nibbling on his neck, sending shivers down his back. He realized — a little shocked — that his necktie had been removed and the top buttons of his shirt had been undone without his knowing.

He ran his hands over the tight tanned muscles. Anubis finished unbuttoning his shirt, and Rowan moaned when their skin touched. The heat from their bodies was already making him sweat — his hair sticking to his forehead and a slight sheen was forming on Anubis’ skin. Questing lips found his and he once again tasted wine and cinnamon. He could feel Anubis’ sex rubbing him through his trousers, and he wanted to shed the rest of his own clothes. He reached down and grabbed Anubis again — lightly pumping. The redhead’s kisses became more urgent, and he groaned into Rowan’s mouth, inciting him.

"I want you. I have to have you…" Anubis was holding his head and looking directly in his eyes. He’s so beautiful. Rowan’s eyes misted. He bit his lip and nodded. The bartender leaned forward and kissed his lips tenderly and almost reverently, then he reached down and begun to fumble with the buttons on Rowan’s pants. He held his breath, wanting to taste Anubis’ mouth again. He felt the buttons give and Anubis pushed his trousers down around his hips. The redhead reached between them and grabbed Rowan’s sex, freeing it from his pants. He moaned and pushed into Anubis’ hand. The bartender let go and pulled him in tight. Their stomachs touching — their sexes touching. He could feel the hard warm muscles of Anubis’ abdomen and the pleasure of it almost made him lose it. He bit his lip and wrapped his arms around Anubis. The hug only lasted for a few seconds before Anubis muttered, "Stand up."

Rowan didn’t want to leave the warmth of Anubis’ body and slowly complied. As he did so, he saw the bartender pull a small tin from his pocket and flip it open. The contents looked like saddle wax. Anubis put a small amount on one finger — snapping the lid back and putting the box on the table. He pushed Rowan’s pants down further enough to allow him entry. He took his finger and slid it between Rowan’s legs. Rowan tried to relax when he felt the pressure and then penetration — one finger gently probing and then two. He pushed back slightly. He looked into Anubis’ slitted, gray eyes — full of desire and promise — as he was pulled closer.

"But my pants…Ugnh…" Pants? What pants? He felt Anubis’ hot wet mouth close over him. He gasped and clenched his teeth, his hands digging into Anubis’ shoulders. His body quivered. Anubis’ fingers working in time with his mouth. He lapped at the jewel of moisture on the tip and expertly swallowed all of Rowan’s sex. Rowan moaned. More…

"Please," he begged, "Will you…Unhhh…" Anubis began to hum — pushing his fingers in farther. Rowan’s legs wilted, his hands holding onto Anubis for support. He melted into the redhead’s mouth and his body began matching the rhythm. Rowan held onto Anubis’ shoulders and rocked — pushing back against Anubis’ fingers. Rowan’s vision began to blur with the pure sensation of the gentle rocking — Anubis moving in farther with every thrust. Rowan moaned and…

"Um…Pardon me."

Rowan blinked. How can he talk if he’s got my dick in his…?

"Um, Rowan? I think I’m going to be ill."

Cye?! Rowan had forgotten all about him. Rowan went cold as Cye’s body spasmed and he threw up on the floor. He was still in shock when Anubis withdrew, grabbed a spittoon and shoved it under Cye’s head before more vomit could hit the floor. Rowan wrinkled his nose at the smell. He looked at Anubis. His hair was plastered to his face and his white shirt was open. His tanned, muscled chest, sheened with sweat was heaving and his rigid member stuck out of his jeans like a compass. As if he felt Rowan’s eyes on him, he turned, smiled and winked. "Guess I shouldn’t have let him have those last few drinks."

Rowan felt empty and cold. He shivered. Anubis walked over, tucking himself back in his jeans. He sat down next to Rowan and slid an arm around his shoulder. Rowan looked helplessly over at Cye whose body was still convulsing and sighed.

"Evidently, little bird, this was not meant to happen tonight." Anubis ruffled Rowan’s hair with his hand. He bit back tears. "I’ll help you get him up to your room."

Rowan nodded dumbly and silently cursed his luck at finding this Englishman who couldn’t hold his liquor. Anubis touched him lightly under the chin and turned his face to his. "Rest assured though, Rowan Strata, it will happen." Cye retched. Anubis grimaced. "Englishman or not." Rowan cringed as more liquid vomit hit metal.

He dressed himself while Cye finished retching. He watched as Anubis tried to button his shirt. Most of the buttons were missing. "Sorry ‘bout that."

Anubis laughed. "It was time I bought a new shirt anyway." Rowan loved the sound of his laugh and the way his eyes crinkled up when he smiled. "Well, I guess it’s time to move him."

Cye’s body had finished its spasms and he lay face down on the bench. His hair was stuck to his face and drool leaked from his lips. Anubis picked up a napkin from the table and dabbed Cye’s face with it. "All right, buddy. Let’s get you to bed." Anubis gingerly picked up the Englishman, wrapping one of Cye’s arms around his neck. Rowan draped the other over his shoulders.

"Dreadfully sorry, luv. I tried not to interrupt, but I couldn’t help it." Anubis and Rowan exchanged glances over Cye’s drooping head. Rowan shrugged and they began the trek to his room.

Lady Kayura watched, fascinated, as three figures emerged from the back hallway. The saloon had closed hours ago — city ordinance — and she had sent the rest of the cleaning staff home. She had finished tallying the cash for the day and was putting away the books. She smiled when she saw Anubis. His shirt was undone and his tanned chest was a wonder to look at. Not that I’ll ever see it hovering over my body. How many times have I wished that man would prefer women to men? Too many times to count. He’s really good at what he does…Every mark I’ve sent his way, he’s managed to seduce and swindle. Most of them within a week. Well, how long will it take this time? The blue-haired man’s hair was disheveled and his shirt was buttoned wrong. She smiled. Not long at all. She sized up the Yankee. When she’d rented a room to him earlier in the day, she’d liked his lazy smile and dark blue eyes. He’d paid in full, up front. Rowan Strata. That was the name he had given her. Maybe Anubis will enjoy this one a while. I wouldn’t mind seeing him around. She eyed the bulge in his pants. "So, another late night, Anubis?"

Anubis turned to glare at her and Mr. Strata blushed. That’s promising.

"Just helping a customer up to his room, Lady Kayura."

"Wait a minute. Mr. Strata," she pointed at the Englishman, "Is he staying in your room? Because if he is that will cost you extra. Two people in a room costs more."

"I’ll be sure ta pay the extra in the mornin’ if that’s all right, ma’am." Polite as well as handsome.

"That’d be fine. You boys carry on." Anubis shot her a glance. Lady Kayura smiled and winked at him. His face flushed and he turned back to the task at hand. God, I love that man. Hope this one doesn’t turn out like that guy in Paris. I don’t want to have to go through that again. Anubis still isn’t talking to me unless he has to. I’d hate to find out what he’d do this time…God, he’s got a nice ass. She watched their forms mount the stairs and go into the room at the end. Don’t worry, Anubis. I’ve got your ass covered.

Three figures awaited their master in an ornate living room. The tall dark-haired man paced nervously back and forth, checking every so often out the curtains, his hand on his gun grip, the tin star on his chest catching the light. "I don’t like this."

"Oh, sit down. You’re annoying me," said an elegantly clad man with long lavender hair, his leg lazily draped over the arm of the couch. The sheriff glowered at the judge and continued pacing, right into the green-haired man.

"Boo."

"Sekhmet! You son of a bitch!"

"Now, Cale, you shouldn’t get so worked up."

"Shut up, Dais!"

"None of us like this arrangement, <sniff> but what can we do?" Sekhmet snapped his snuff tin closed.

"I just don’t like it. He’s been avoiding us lately and spending more time with that…that…" Cale’s words died on his lips as two others entered the room.

"That what, Cale?" A man dressed all in black glided across the floor -- a long scar running from forehead to his cheek, his left eye milky white. Cale lowered his eyes. Dais crinkled his nose and looked away.

"Perhaps, Cale, you need a little demonstration of Damon’s power." The larger man was dressed in a garish red coat with gold buttons, white pants, and high black boots. His black eyes seemed to suck in the light, stealing it from the room.

"As you wish, Ringmaster Talpa." Damon placed his hands in a triangle in front of him and began chanting softly to himself. The other three men exchanged concerned looks as the air charged around them, the smell of brimstone strong in their nostrils. Then from Damon’s fingertips came a gray mist, swirling and coalescing at Cale’s feet. Cale shifted uneasily. The mist traveled up his legs. It felt like fingertips caressing his body. It swirled around his head, obscuring his vision — just as Damon traced the outline of his scar, Cale cried out, holding his face and falling to his knees. The mist moved on — this time touching Dais. Dais cried out as searing heat shot through his eye. The mist moved toward Sekhmet. He looked at Damon and steeled himself to the embrace of the mist.

"Enough. Let him be. I think your demonstration has been sufficient."

"As you wish, Ringmaster Talpa." Damon bowed.

"That was enough. Wasn’t it, Cale?" Cale staggered to his feet, his hand clutching the left side of his face, blood running over his hand. His eyes widened in shock as he realized the scar on Damon’s face was gone.

"Yes, Mr. Talpa," he stammered.

"Good. Now don’t ever question my judgment again."

"No, Mr. Talpa."

Cale pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and held it to his face. The pain caused his eye to twitch.

"I shall be going away for awhile. In my absence, Damon will be in charge. Any questions?" Talpa gazed at the others — daring them to speak. Cale moved forward, but stopped in his tracks when Damon smiled.

He’s daring me to say something. Should I…? Damon’s eyes never left Cale. He looked at Dais and Sekhmet. Sekhmet was staring at something out the window and Dais didn’t look up. "No, Mr. Talpa."

"Good." Talpa clapped his hands together. "Damon is going to settle this land deal while I’m gone, since none of you are competent enough to do so." Cale face was turning bright red, but he kept his head down. "You will do exactly as he says, and ask no questions. Understand?"

"Yes, Mr. Talpa." Three voices in unison.

"Don’t fail me."

"There’s not a chance of that, Ringmaster Talpa." Damon bowed.

Talpa glared at the other three in the room. "There’d better not be."

Talpa turned and left the room, Damon dogging his footsteps.

Cale stood there, paralyzed. Blood ran through his fingers. He cut me. He didn’t even have a knife and he cut me.

"He’ll pay for this," Dais said in his ear. He turned toward the voice and cringed. One of Dais’ beautiful eyes had been turned milky white.

Sekhmet crept up beside Cale and looked at his face. "Yes, he will."