Free Traveller's Refuge by Anny Cook Page A

an increase in fluid from the vagina . Over time , if bonding is delayed too long the tightening becomes contractions and eventually terrible cramps , leading to convulsions and finally death . Her calm, blunt explanation captured his attention in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Her tranquil acceptance of the possible life-threatening consequences if he failed her stunned him to silence as he groped for something to say. He couldn’t think of anything to say. Her explanation was so beyond what he had expected that his mind froze.
    Then in the way that men latch onto something familiar, he demanded, You mean your pussy gets wet ?
    Very , she answered with restrained brevity.
    So the short version is that once you begin this schalzina, you get aroused and need to be fucked . She wasn’t surprised by his crude but succinct summation. She had brothers, didn’t she?
    Is there more ?
    How to explain bonding? Or the schela ? Mhital ? She took a deep breath and rubbed her forehead in frustration. What fate decided that she should be bonded with an out-valley man? There is more , she admitted reluctantly.
    Uh - huh . I would have bet my paycheck on that . Okay , I have to go now . We ’ ll talk about this again when I ’ m in a more secure situation . Count on it , Wrenna . You have that long to figure out how to explain what ’ s going on . And then to her profound relief, he was gone.

Chapter Six
     
    Trav padded soundlessly down the narrow alley behind the old rowhouses built back in the 1800s. Noting the extensive renovations and improvements, he shook his head in amazement. Urban renewal could be a wonderful thing if the emphasis was on improvement and not starting over from scratch. Thank God the rain had finally stopped. He counted buildings in the long row until he reached eleven. It would never do to break into the wrong house. Fifteen minutes before, he’d conducted an interesting conversation with Paullie the Weasel. Time was of the essence if he was going to get everything done before Paullie reported and Free came roaring after him.
    He disabled the alarm, picked the lock and was inside the silent, dark hallway under five minutes. Not bothering to explore, he went straight to the office, booted up the computer and set to work. A short time later, he had downloaded everything he needed to a series of flash drives which he carefully stashed in the zipper pocket on his coat. Next he sent an e-mail to his cousin, Runner, with an attachment containing all the information Dancer had left him on the CD. Then with a few more clicks, he wiped the computer hard drive clean. Collecting his belongings, he went to the hidden door that connected with the neighboring building, pressed the latch and entered the pantry.
    He stood in the dark, listening intently. Loud snores. Muffled whimpers. Now that just wasn’t a good sign. It sounded like Bish had company. He stashed his stuff in the living room and ghosted up the stairs to the bedroom. The moon broke through the cloud cover, illuminating the bedroom through the partially opened blinds.
    Bish was sprawled naked across the bed, taking up more than his fair share of the wide mattress and snoring loud enough to vibrate the windows. Trav shook his head in disapproval. The woman lying next to Bishop was rigid with rage. Her arms were stretched out overhead, firmly restrained by what appeared to be a necktie wrapped around her wrists and fastened to one of the uprights on his antique iron bedstead. Her ankles were tied in a similar fashion to the footboard. Another tie was serving as a gag. Hmmm. Now what ?
    He slipped the prepared syringe from his pocket, approached the bed and slipped the needle in Bishop’s leg just above the ankle. He worked so quickly that he was done by the time Bish jackknifed up to grapple with him. A well aimed snap to the jaw and Bish folded. Trav caught him before he rolled off the bed and settled him back in his place before he went around the bed and