He stood at the foot of the stairs waiting as I made my rounds, locking doors and turning off lights. When I reached the stairs, he reached out for my wrist and pulled me against him, my back grazing his torso. He pushed my hair away from the right side of my neck and began to kiss it and his hands began to run up and down my sides, “Danny,” I said just as one hand grabbed a breast and another slid down the front of my jeans. Instinctively, I backed up against him and I could feel his hard cock against my ass. I felt his fingers in the places they were the night before and tried not to react, but he was good. Gentle but intentional, he knew how to get a reaction out of me. A spasm shook my body and I reached out and wrapped my hands around the handrail. I looked around the storeroom and spotted an old seat from a boat that was out of commission. Breaking away from his grasp, I pushed him to the seat and he sat down, low to the ground. I pushed his legs apart and knelt in between them. No matter what, he would ensure the shaman never touched her again. A melee of shouting jarred him awake. Certain the disruption was significant, the Light-Eye broke his own rule and left her alone, rushing outside. He discovered his people pressed together in a tight mass, crying out in confusion, their voices growing louder and louder. His heart pounding as a streak of energy rushed through his body, Jakal pushed through the noisy crowd, fighting to uncover that which he already knew lay ahead. Flanked by Belak and Dosat, the Spiritwalker stood with arms pulled behind his back, his eyes wide and darting with alarm at the upheaval surrounding him. His body was filthy, covered with dirt, scratches and streaks of dried sweat. His lopsided face, wrapped with blood-stained strips of leather, swelled hideously. The Light-Eye scarcely noticed his condition. Overcome by rage, he acted on instinct, and before anyone knew what was happening, his hand wrapped around the shaman’s throat..
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