Action

Kat quickly scanned her surroundings and focused on the first thing that looked slightly risky and fun. "Let's do that." Kat pointed down a dark alley at a neon sign flashing Nig Club, the letters h and t were burnt out, making it look a little foreboding. It just added to her desire to go. The atmosphere around the door was menacing and definitely no place Katherine Percy would ever go. Therefore, it was the perfect place for Kat Percy to go and relieve some of her urge to be alive and unsafe.

"Are you sure? If you want to dance, we can find a more…pleasant establishment." Patrick looked uncomfortable and unsure. "Oh, I'm sure, let's go." Kat tugged playfully on Patrick's hand. "Or if you don't want to, I could go by myself. If you wanted to get home and go to bed or something, don't let me keep you up." Kat flashed him a playful smile and dropped his hand, although she fully intended to go into that club with or without him, she had no doubt he would follow her.

Patrick smiled back and grabbed her hand. "Come on, party girl. Just don't say I didn't warn you."

Kat worried briefly that her white dress was less than nightclub appropriate, but then decided not to care. She was just going to have fun. She was not going to care about what everyone else in there was thinking about her and how they were judging her. That was what a person who was looking for the proper route through life would do. She was looking for the fun route through life and she didn't give a crap what anyone else thought. Well, almost anyone. The one person she cared about was Kevin, and of course that is why she hadn't slept with Patrick, yet. Damn her new brother for keeping her from giving completely over to her new self. She would make up for it in other ways, like striding into this interesting establishment with head held high and a determination to partake in whatever it offered.

Patrick stopped in front of the heavy wooden door, turned quickly and put his hands on Kat's shoulders. "I think that this is more than a nightclub, Katherine. I'm just warning you that you might not like what you see if you go in there. It could be disturbing to your delicate sensibilities." Patrick tried to sound a bit joking, but the sentiment was serious.

If Kat had been in any kind of right mind instead of half-crazed by his tempting body, she might have heeded his warning. As it was, her nerves screamed out for satisfaction and so she wanted a distraction, whatever it happened to be. This nightclub was the closest thing that offered any kind of distraction for her.

"I'm made of stronger stuff than you think, Patrick, and not so innocent either," Kat replied with a flip of her hair and a hand playfully on her hip.

"I see." Patrick smiled wickedly at her and pulled her roughly toward him. His lips crushed down on hers with unrestrained passion.

The flame of desire she'd held constantly lit since she met him, flared to life and she was instantly engulfed in the heat of her own desire. Kat threw herself unthinkingly into the kiss. She leaned into him and snaked her tongue out of her parted lips, caressing his.

Patrick crushed her soft body to his, molding her curves to his hardness. He met her tongue with his own and they mated passionately, clinging to each other, both mindless with need.

Kat's hands stroked up and down Patrick's muscled back, maddened by the thin cotton shirt that kept her from his hot smooth skin. Her nails raked down his back in an effort to tear the offending garment from his body.

Patrick's hands slid down to Kat's buttocks and pulled her even closer against his hard body. Proof that he wanted her as much as she wanted him, Kat's body trembled with this knowledge and her knees weakened as their tongues continued their intimate mating dance. Patrick slid his hands down to her thighs and pulled her legs up around his waist.

Kat clung to his shoulders and hooked her ankles behind his back.

Patrick kissed his way across her cheek and nibbled on her ear. His hands slipped easily beneath her dress, which was hiked up to her crotch from the position she was in. His fingers found the lace edge of her panties and traced it down and around to the inside of her thigh. Kat's body arched in anticipation and she threw her head back with a groan of pleasure. Patrick slid his mouth down to her neck, lavishing the delicate skin there with gentle kisses.

"Whoa, check out them going at it like the sky is falling." Patrick kissed his way back up to Kat's ear. "Darling, I think we are being observed."

"I don't care." Kat leaned forward and nipped lightly at his neck.

"Yeah don't mind us, we will just settle in here and watch the show. It's going to be better than anything inside, not to mention free." The two men leaned against the opposite wall, settling in for the show.

Kat unhooked her ankles and slid her body down Patrick's. She smoothed her dress and held her head high. She would not let her actions shame her, but she would continue on the road to not doing it again, if that was possible. She wanted Patrick now more than ever.

"Too bad, come on, Chuck, let's get inside before Millie gets onstage." The two men hurried past and into the door.

"Shall we go?" Patrick asked, meaning someplace more private where they could continue their interaction uninterrupted.

"Yes, let's get inside. Apparently there is some kind of show about to start. I'm sure we don't want to miss it."

One night, Riley made his journey to the old cemetery and could feel the chill of the night seeping into his bones. “What a night to be out,” he muttered. “I have a feeling about tonight that I can’t shake.” Riley smiled, realizing he was talking, but only the empty cemetery and lonely tombstones could hear him.

He kept looking at an old tombstone a few feet from where he stood. The granite slab acted almost like it was beckoning him. He walked over and leaned down, brushing aside the leaves piled on top. The thick marble slab looked as if it had been there forever. The cut and style of the stone had to date back to the nineteenth century. The tombstone read, Wild Bart Jamison, from out west in Colorado.

Riley decided this gravesite might be an interesting plot to place his recorder on and let the microphone try to pick up any message that may be coming through. Something urged him to do this.

The marker stated that Bart Jamison died in 1850. After his death, the family brought the old prospector back east to be buried in the family plot. A small inscription at the bottom of the marble stone stated that Bart had discovered gold in Colorado right after the California gold rush of 1849. Near the inscription was a carved out picture of a cowboy astride a horse.

“Wow, this looks like a good find,” he stated, his voice carrying across the lonely cemetery on the stiff breeze now sending chills through his bones.

Riley felt excitement stir in him as he placed his recorder on the old gravestone and turned it on. Just maybe he would be lucky tonight and find out a little about this Bart Jamison. He wondered if the man had really struck it rich or died a pauper and his relatives had to bury him in New York City.

Suddenly, Riley saw a light flashing across the deserted cemetery. He didn’t bother removing his equipment from the marker as he hunched down behind the tall gravestone. The light made another pass right near his hiding place.

 

The man in the suit smiled and walked towards Ricky and Kristy. When he was less than three feet away, he asked, “A friend of yours?”

“Not our friend,” Ricky blurted.

“Hey, that’s not nice,” Frank laughed.

The man in the suit backed up and shouted, “Is he anyone’s friend here?”

The audience murmured.

Someone called out, “I don’t think he has any friends.”

The crowd laughed.

The man in the suit ambled over to Frank. “Looks like you’re alone,” he said.

“I got Connie here,” Frank laughed.

“Are you desperate, Connie?” the man in the suit chuckled.

“Listen, asshole,” Frank sneered. “Getting insulted wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Oh, really?” the man in the suit snapped. “What about the actors you insulted?”

“That’s different,” Frank said.

“Is it?” The man in the suit put his hand in his pocket, pulled out a revolver and smashed Frank on the side of the head.

Frank screamed in pain and fell to his knees.

“Hey,” Connie shouted. She dropped to Frank’s side and tried to help him up.

“Come here, honey,” the man in the suit growled. He grabbed Connie’s arm and dragged her away from Frank. When she was in a dark part of the scenery, he appeared to punch her in the stomach. She began to moan and cry. The man in the suit returned to Frank. He hit him in the head with the gun again and pulled him to the center of the scene.

The man in the suit shouted, “What should I do with this asshole?”

“Kill him!” someone replied.

“Kill him!” Ricky yelled.

Soon the audience was chanting, “Kill him! Kill him!”

“See?” Ricky laughed. “I told you he was part of the act.”

“If you insist!” the man in the suit laughed. He aimed his gun at Frank’s head and pulled the trigger twice. The entire scene lit up with each blast from the gun while loud explosions rang in the audience’s ear.

The man in the suit faced the audience and yelled, “What about the bitch?”

“Let her go,” Kristy cried.

“Nah, kill her, too,” someone else shouted.

Again, the audience was again chanting, “Kill her! Kill her!”

“If you insist,” the man in the suit mumbled. He aimed his pistol at the sobbing woman and pulled the trigger twice, again assaulting the audience with harsh bright lights and loud explosions.

“What a fucking hoot!” Ricky laughed.

“That was the first part of this stupid show that I enjoyed,” Kristy giggled.



* * * *



Twenty minutes later Kristy had her head buried in Ricky’s lap. She was trying to gain her composure while Ricky talked with a uniformed policeman. “Don’t you get it?” he said. “We thought it was part of the show. I mean, we probably would have helped, especially the lady, but…”


He wilted under the dismissive stare of the cop, and his voice trailed off. “Don’t you get it?” he mumbled.

 

Back in England after the Great War, Archie Douglas meets a young lady whose beauty takes his breath away. But Cicily Broadbent, student of Egyptology, has sworn never to marry. She believes that Nekhbet the White Vulture, virgin mother goddess of ancient Egypt, can grant women children without man’s touch. Determined to win her hand, Archie awaits the day when she grows out of this experiment with paganism. But when Cicily succeeds in re-awakening the goddess, Archie has more to worry about than just losing Cicily.