Stolen (Otherworld #2)(19)

I tilted my head back to look up at him and grinned. "In ways."
"Ouch. Cruel. Very cruel."
"At least I appreciate you for one thing."
"Only one thing?"
His hand moved to my breast, teasing the nipple between his fingers, then bringing his lips down for backup. I closed my eyes and groaned."Or maybe several things," I murmured. "That's one of them. Want to compile a list?"
He chuckled, the vibration tingling through my breast.
"No list, please," said a deep voice somewhere to our right. "I'll be waiting here all night. I already had to wait through round one."
I turned my head to see Jeremy walk through the trees.
"Sorry," I said.
"Don't be. But I'd like to get this cleaned up before dawn."
Clay groaned and lifted himself onto his elbows, still lying on me.
"Yes," Jeremy continued. "Terribly inconsiderate of me, expecting you to dispose of the corpses you created before you finished your reunion   romp. I apologize most sincerely. Now get off your ass, Clayton, and get to work."
Clay sighed, gave me one last kiss, and got to his feet. I stood and walked over to the body of the dead man. Yes, I was still naked, and, yes, Jeremy was standing right there, and, no, I didn't try to cover myself or anything so ridiculously prudish. Jeremy had seen me naked, had sketched me naked, had tripped over me lazing around naked. We were werewolves, remember? That meant that after we Changed, we were always naked and, most often, nowhere near our clothing. We got used to being naked and, after a while, clothed/unclothed, it was all pretty much the same.
"I don't suppose you brought our clothes?" I said. "Shouldn't matter, so long as we don't meet any early morning anglers on the way back."
"Actually, I did bring them, but considering the amount of mud and blood on both of you, I think we'd better stick to nudity for a while longer. You'll be clean soon enough."
I didn't ask what he meant by that. I dropped to my knees beside the dead man and searching for a wallet or ID. Jeremy walked back to the ditch and returned with a spade, which he tossed to Clay.
"Bury him here?" Clay asked.
"No. Dig a hole by his neck, turn him over, and drain the blood. We'll take him back to the cottage for disposal. It's about a half-mile back. I was hoping for a closer kill."
"No choice in the matter," I said. "We found him in a bog, chased him here to dry ground, then he pulled a gun. Shot Clay in the arm."
Jeremy frowned, walked over to Clay and examined the wound.
"Clean shot," he said. "Does it hurt?"
Clay lifted his arm above shoulder level. "Only if I do this."
"Then don't do that."
"Couldn't resist, could you?" I said.
Clay grinned. Jeremy's lips curved in the barest smile, then he clapped Clay on the back.
"Get to it, then. Drain the body so we can move him." 
"There's no ID," I said.
Jeremy nodded. As Clay lifted the shovel to dig, Jeremy and I jumped in at the same time, both realizing it wasn't something he should do with a bad arm. After a brief argument-I argued, Jeremy held the shovel and refused to release it-I let Jeremy dig the hole, then I tipped the body over it. Once the blood had drained, we filled in the hole with the surrounding blood-soaked leaves, then covered it with soil and took the corpse back to the cottage.
***
It was still deep night when we returned to the cabin. Jeremy and I carried two corpses to a treed strip of bank along the lake. Clay stayed back with the third, saying he had to "do something" with it. Neither Jeremy nor I asked for details. With Clay, it was better not to know.
I stood on the embankment, still naked. We'd tied thick rope around the neck and legs of each corpse and weighted them with concrete blocks from a cottage demolition up the road.
"Wow," I said to Jeremy as I lowered myself to the ground and dipped my legs into the icy water. "I get to make someone 'swim with the fishes.' This is cool. My first Mafia-style disposal. You realize what this means. If I get caught, I'm going to have to turn state's witness against all you guys. Then I'll sell my story for a million bucks. But I'll never get to enjoy it, 'cause I'll live out the rest of my miserable existence in a shanty in the Appalachians, eating muskrat stew, jumping every time I hear a noise, waiting for the day when one of you hunts me down like the traitorous bitch I am." I paused. "Hold on. Maybe this isn't so cool after all. Can't we just bury him?"
"Get in the water, Elena."
I sighed. "Being a gangster ain't what it used to be. Al Capone, where have you gone?"
Jeremy pushed me off the bank. I hit the water with a splash.
"And try to be quiet," he said.
"I didn't-"
He threw the man down to me, dunking me underwater with the weight. When I resurfaced, Jeremy was gone. I swam into the middle of the lake, dragging the weighted corpse behind me. Then I dove to check the depth. It was at least fifty feet. This guy wouldn't surface any time soon. To be sure, I snagged him in a tangle of some underwater plants. Then I returned for the second body.
Clay still wasn't back when I got to the shore. Jeremy passed me corpse number two, and I swam back out to repeat the procedure, dropping this one a hundred feet farther west, in hopes that if one surfaced, the other wouldn't also be found. Sometimes it scared me that I even thought of such considerations. I had too much experience with these things. Way too much.
As I resurfaced after dumping the body, arms grabbed me around the waist and jettisoned me out of the lake. Coming down I hit the water with a tidal-wave splash. I grabbed Clay by the neck and dragged him under, holding him there for a second-maybe longer-before releasing him.
"Did Jeremy tell you the part about being quiet?" I hissed as he came up for air.
He grinned. "I am being quiet. You're the one splashing around."
I lunged for him. He grabbed me, pulled me against him and kissed me. His lips were ice-cold, his breath steaming hot. I kissed him deeper, wrapping my arms and legs around him, then ducking him under the water again.
"I did miss you," I said as he surfaced.
He tilted his head and knocked his open palm against one ear. "Sorry, darling. Water in the ears, I think. I coulda sworn you admitted that you missed me."
I pulled a face, then turned and started to swim, heading for shore. Clay caught my leg and hauled me back.
"I missed you, too," he said, pulling me upright against him. He traced his fingers up my inner thigh. "We should be getting in. Think we can trick Jeremy if we come to shore farther down?""For a few minutes."
"Long enough?"
"Long enough for now."
He grinned. "Good. Wanna race?"
"What's the prize?"
"Winner's choice."
I lunged forward. He grabbed my ankle again, yanked me back, then took off ahead.
***
By the time we got to the cabin, Jeremy already had the Explorer packed. We wouldn't stay at the cottage any longer, for obvious reasons. Before leaving, Jeremy disinfected Clay's wound and my burned arms, then dressed both. Then we left to find a place for the night. While we'd been disposing of the bodies, Jeremy had called Ruth and, without mentioning our guests, discovered the group was convening again in the morning. Someone had told these men where to find us. Only five other people knew we were in Vermont. All five of them would be at the meeting in a few hours. So would we.
CONFRONTATION

The meeting was due to start at eight. We got up at seven but were still late. An hour wasn't enough time for three people in our tiny motel room to shower, shave (no, being a werewolf doesn't give me extraneous hair; the guys shaved, not me), dress, leave, grab takeout, eat, and drive to Sparta. To save time, Clay and I even shared a shower, which for some reason didn't manage to save any time at all. Go figure.
Before we'd dumped the bodies, Jeremy had emptied their pockets. Even if we weren't curious about their identity, it was standard operating procedure to destroy the ID before dumping a body. Like I said, we had way too much experience with this stuff. As with the guy I'd checked, one of the other two didn't have any wallet, ID, or cash on him. The third guy had two twenties and a driver's license in his rear pocket. Emergency cash and a license in case he was pulled over. Bare minimum. These guys had known what they were doing. Jeremy had checked the driver's license and proclaimed it a fake. An impressive fake, but a fake. Jeremy would know. He manufactured all our phony ID, something else we had far too much experience with.
***
We arrived at the Legion Hall at nine-thirty. All four cars were in the lot. Again the witches used a spell to lock the door, but this time we didn't knock. Clay tore the door off the hinges and we walked inside. As I entered the room, Ruth stopped talking. Everyone looked up.
"Where have you been?" Ruth asked.
I grinned, baring my teeth. "Hunting."
"Wanna see what we caught?" Clay asked from behind me.
He strode to the table and tossed a garbage bag on it. Cassandra was the only one who looked at him, wondering who he was. Everybody else stared at the bag. No one moved to take it. Then Cassandra reached forward, lifted one side of the bag, and looked in. After a second, she let the plastic fall from her hand and sat back in her chair. Her eyes moved from Clay to me and back to Clay, face blank, no shock, no disgust, nothing. Paige peeled back the plastic and recoiled fast. 
The third man's head lay on its side, eyes wide and dull. Paige jumped to her feet and tried to yank the plastic back over it. The head rolled with the sudden movement. She bit off a scream.