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“So, it’s a death trap,” Riva concluded. “Sounds fun.”
“There are pockets leading to dead ends,” Charlie announced. “Choose your sleeping spot and we take turns as usual. I will take first watch.”
Daria opened her mouth.
“Me, too,” Sona piped in before Daria could volunteer.
An argument brewed about who was taking the nearest pocket, Oscar sleeping alone versus Diego, and Riva lying right in the center of the space because she didn’t want to share with anyone. Daria let them get to their claimed spots, then rested her hand against the wall. She followed the curves that formed a non-perfect circle, interrupted by the pockets and nothing else. When the first snore floated in the air, she retraced her steps until she found the biggest pocket leading to a tunnel, which was what Oscar had deemed the entrance. The emptiness roused her curiosity, wondering if the two watchers were hiding somewhere undetected. Then she heard voices, faint and hushed.
“It’s so peaceful here. I don’t think anything’s coming at us tonight.”
Sona’s voice sounded peaceful, too, with a touch of smokiness.
“I don’t think so, either. But it always pays to be cautious.”
“Yes. Mr. Bennett?”
“Hmm?”
“Have you ever thought about sleeping with someone while on a mission?”
Silence.
“I have.”
Daria’s stomach plummeted. She had heard it a dozen times: women throwing themselves at Charlie, from the innocent ones with their early crushes to the more mature ones who got straight to the point. But he had always kept it light and private, discreet in everything he did with his time.
“That’s refreshing.”
“Is it?” Curiosity shone in his voice. “And why do you think this is a mission?”
“Well, we are trying to get out of this mystical mountain alive. That makes it a mission.”
“I see.”
“And all right.” There was a pause, then a long, languid sigh. “You asked once what would sustain me, so I am going to be honest. Sex sustains me. You are an adult who didn’t shift during the recent full moon, and I’m sure your hormones are raging, too. We are both adults. I think all we need is a secluded spot to ourselves, and we can get rid of all this tension. You can fuck me however you like tonight.”
There were more words, but the voice had lowered further into murmurs blending with the cave. She backed a step, then another, reining her focus towards not making a sound even while panic bloomed out—that they would discover her, that she would die from mortification. But the worst thing of all was hearing Charlie’s answer, even when it was practically laid out in stone.
Sona was a worldly, sophisticated woman even without sophisticated clothes, and no dumb man would turn her down. But Daria didn’t have to hear about every sordid detail, not when every exchange and encouragement pierced a dagger in her heart. When she got out of the tunnel, she searched for the farthest pocket, crawled in, and closed her eyes, willing sleep to come fast.
Forget about them. There’s a goal ahead, and it’s close. You will have what you want the most.
Why was there a gaping hole in her chest?
Forget it. Just forget it. Just—
“You forgot your backpack.”
Her eyes snapped open. She heard movement in the pocket as the bag was placed somewhere above her head before a long body stretched itself in the space beside her. While the pocket was bigger than the tent, the size difference wasn’t much, and she could hear every exhalation that came from him. She could smell him, too, that natural, earthy scent that flourished when he was stripped of all the others.
It felt very important not to breathe him in and lose himself in it, so she stayed very still.
“I don’t need it,” she said, then tried again when her voice sounded short. “Thank you, but it’s all right.”
“Well, it’s here.”
A heavy sigh came from him, and she could almost feel him decompressing. But she still felt the wired restlessness in his body, proliferating the air with tension.
