Driven By Instinct

7 - Unknown

They had traveled until nightfall, passing through the thinnest possible point of the woods east of Landon. They made it out just as night fell, and Constantine decided to make camp on the fringes of the woodlands. A creek nearby rushed and burbled between some large, weathered boulders. Vica informed him that she intended to bathe.

"Do what you want," he said. "I'm doing the same."

Vica sat back down by the fire. "You go first."

He grinned but said nothing more and left with a cotton towel. As she waited, she glanced from the fire to his fuzzy silhouette rising out of the water, just beyond the range of the flickering light. She felt the pressure of his presence on her mind even now, but she found herself wondering if this was her opportunity to escape. He was close by, but he was naked and distracted. Maybe if she made a break for it in the opposite direction, got far enough to access her magic before he caught her -?

Her pulse raced, and her thighs tightened as she braced herself to bolt up and dash away. In that instant, however, she saw Constantine's hazy shape hip-deep in the creek stop moving. She, too, stilled, and with bright eyes watched as he turned around to face her. She saw the familiar feral gleam of his eyes as he observed her and ground her teeth in frustration. It wasn't her imagination, was it? He was somehow reading her mind. She'd caught hints of it several times in their unfortunate time together, but this was possibly the most blatant demonstration.

Vica saw him place a hand against the boulder next to him as he stared at her, and she could almost feel him smiling. Not until she let out the breath she had been holding did Constantine move again, as if he had known the instant she had decided upon reluctant surrender. He did know, she thought, gnashing her teeth further as she picked up and threw a twig into the fire. Maybe when he was sleeping? She hastily dashed the thought away in case Constantine could hear it and thought of dung and rotting meats instead. Take that, she thought bitterly, and thought of hairy bums for good measure.

In her vexation, she didn't see or hear Constantine tutting at her in disappointment. He would not have been opposed to chasing her down in nothing but his wet hair, he thought. He instantly regretted visibly responding to the spike of her magic. If he had feigned ignorance, he might have found himself with an armful of Vica by now, limbs tangling as he bore her down to the forest floor. Even being immersed in the cold creek water couldn't dissuade his c**k from twitching to attention, and he looked down almost mournfully. It would be a criminal waste of his imagination if he didn't make use of it, he thought, and made his decision. He glanced back over his shoulder, watching her huddled shape as she vigorously poked the fire with a stick. He saw her push the sleeve of her cloak back - likely to prevent sparks from burning holes in the fabric - and dug his tongue into the inside of his cheek at the sight of her slender arm.

He lowered one hand into the burbling creek water, continuing to watch her. He thought again of chasing her down and holding her arms behind her back. Of pressing his face into her shoulder as he pulled her body into his, how she would writhe in his hold. The first rumblings of a groan inched up his throat, but he continued, undeterred by the thought that she could turn any second now and see him. If anything, the thought thrilled him and sent an electric wave of pleasure straight to his c**k.

It wasn't necessary now that she was clothed in winter garb, but he decided anyway that she would be sleeping on him again tonight. He was looking forward to what she had to say about that, he thought with relish as he finished himself off with a hard stroke. He almost lost his footing on the creek bed, and for a moment couldn't tell the difference between the spots in his vision and the hovering fireflies.

Vica had thrown more branches and twigs into the fire and was still poking it fiercely when Constantine emerged from his bath. The flames crackled and threw sparks just as she looked up - and then before the sparks had managed to land in the dirt, she was looking away again with a stricken expression. She continued to nurse the campfire even as Constantine passed by, feigning ignorance of his nakedness. His cotton towel was draped over his head like a headdress, concealing absolutely nothing below the shoulders. When she heard him rummaging in his belongings, she reached down to grab her washcloth, towel, and lye soap and beat a hasty retreat.

She was crouched with nearly her whole body under the water so she could wash her hair when she felt Constantine's presence loom over her. Her eyes shot open and she froze with her hands full of soapy hair, still as stone.

"I'll need this," he said, and he grinned as he reached up to remove his washcloth from on top of the boulder. "Have a nice bath, Vica. Don't be too long." He held his clothes in his hands as he moved off, still blithely bare in the moonlight.

Vica remained motionless for several seconds after he disappeared, and then resumed scrubbing her hair with considerable more violence. "Die," she whispered under her breath. "Die, die, die."

Fifteen feet away by the fire, Constantine glanced up and raised his eyebrows at her small silhouette. So much rage hidden in such a little body, he thought. He shook his head.

She didn't linger too long once she had finished washing, justifiably suspicious that Constantine would wander over while she was still putting on her clothes. She was damper than she was accustomed to as a result, and cool moisture made what should have been a loose tunic cling to her skin in rumples. The fire was still roaring when she returned, thankfully. She turned her back to it and brushed out her wet tangles with her fingers, droplets of water sprinkling away with each stroke. A little longer and she would be ready for bed. Her feet were aching again. The sooner she got off of them, the better.

She was spreading out her bedroll on her knees and admiring its quality when Constantine called her name. "What," she snapped, not looking at him. She began crawling onto the canvas.

"Bring that over here."

Vica looked up. "I'm not cold," she said. "I'm still in my cloak."

"Keep it up, and we'll share the same bedroll. Hurry up."

Vica hung her head and screwed her eyes shut, willing her tongue to stay itself. It took her a few seconds to finish shelving the scathing comments waiting between her teeth. "On my way," she said tightly. She furled her bedroll again as slowly as she dared and rose with a grimace. She stood next to Constantine's bedroll a moment later, where he was already lying down with one arm thrown over his eyes.

"Closer."

Vica cursed him violently in her thoughts as she shifted the canvas over until it was touching his. Just as she moved to lie down on her side with her back to Constantine, however, he dropped his arm so that it lay across the head of her bedroll. "Excuse me," she said after a moment, twisted at the hips as she stared down at his extended forearm.

"Sure," he said. His arm remained where it was.

Pointless. Vica began scooting down so that she had enough room to lay her head without touching his arm, but his other hand suddenly grasped her shoulder and stilled her movements. She looked back at him with a barely concealed glower.

"Don't. It's this, or I sleep on top of you tonight. Your choice."

Vica scowled at his ultimatum. "Can you stop doing this? Constantine? Remember when you said you would make this easy for me?"

"I said as long as you make it easy for me," he reminded her smoothly. "When you stop thinking about running, I'll consider it."

Without another word, Vica turned back around and lay down on her side. Instead of placing her head on his forearm, she let it rest above his wrist so that his skin was only barely brushing the curve of her neck and shoulder. She shifted until she was comfortable and then proceeded to pretend to fall asleep.

Constantine watched her through half-lidded eyes. She was unhappy, he knew, but what could she do about it? He smiled and let his head roll back to face the night sky. She'd been a delight today. He'd reward her with a reprieve.

He closed his eyes and settled into a light sleep.