Edge: Killer's Breed

"Less than that," Hedges corrected as he folded his fist around the pin and lashed his arm forward and down. A half inch of the needle-like point protruded from the heel of his hand. This sank into the flesh of the man's face just below his eye and slashed a bloody path down the cheek to the corner of his mouth.

"You beast!" the woman screamed as the man put a hand to his torn cheek and looked in horror at his blood-soaked fingers.

"You stuck me," he gasped. He had been drinking brandy from a snifter and smoking a large cigar. As he continued to sit, held thereby the horror of what had happened to him, Hedges lifted the glass and threw its contents into his face.

"Help to stop infection," he said softly.

The man roared all the alcohol seared into the wound, and started to come up out of the seat. Hedges dropped the pin and curled his forefinger inside the wide open lips. He jerked his hand and the flesh tore an inch along the line inscribed by the pin. The lower section of the wound flapped open. The man screamed and crumpled to the floor as his hands nursed the lacerated flesh.

"Now folks can see you've got a big mouth," Hedges muttered as he turned and found Jeannie staring at him with wide eyed shock. The woman in the booth began to wail and Hedges leaned over to the ashtray, picked up the smoking cigar and crushed it down between her ample breasts. Her wails became a shriek of pain.

"Let's go, Miss Fisher," he said, "It's too noisy in here."

The girl was like an automaton as she allowed herself to be ushered ahead of Hedges between the tables and the pale-faced patrons who sat at them.  

"That was vicious," she whispered as they emerged into the warm Washington night.

"He did the talking and she thought it was funny," he said softly. "They had to pay for it."

"But so cruelly?"

He sighed. "Would you have cared what 1 did to that drunken soldier back in Parkersburg?"

"That was different," she protested.

"Because your honor was at stake?"

She flushed and the deep color added to her prettiness. "If you want to put it like that," she said softly, dropping her gaze.

"That loudmouth was questioning my honor," Hedges told her and began to walk away from the front of the saloon, heading back towards Pennsylvania Avenue. 

She ran to catch up to him and they walked apart for a few yards. Then her hand found his arm again. Their silence lengthened and was emphasized by the bustle in the street around them.

"Where are we going?" she asked suddenly.

"Hotel."

"It's early," she protested.

"It's overdue," he answered.

"I heard about it and I've seen it. About time I tried it."

She halted abruptly and her grip on his arm pulled him up short. Her green eyes flashed angrily as he looked into them. "If you mean what I think you mean, Captain, you've come to the wrong girl."

"You came to me, Miss Fisher," he pointed out.

"I hardly know you."

"Don't see what that's got to do with it."

"A girl likes to be courted," Jeannie said, her tone softening, and a coy smile turning up the corners of her I slightly pouted mouth.

Hedges bent forward suddenly, swept her into his arms and crushed his lips against hers. The kiss lasted several long moments and the passing crowds laughed at the couple. But neither of them were aware of any existence except their own as they pressed against each other.

"There's not much time for courting in a war," Hedges said as he eased his embrace and looked steadily into her eyes which showed an expression he had never seen there before. "Figure that takes care of it. Can we get on with the humping now?"

"Captain!" the girl exclaimed.

"Yes, Miss Fisher?" he asked evenly.

"That is no way for a gentleman to talk."

"All officers ain't gentlemen, Miss Fisher."

She fluttered her long eyelashes and found something of intense interest in the area of his chest. "I haven't ever ... before," she whispered.

He began to walk towards the hotel and she fell in beside him. "But you thought about it?" he asked.

"Yes," she caught her breath. "What it would be like when I was married."

"I'm not the marrying kind, Miss Fisher."

"I know you're not, Captain." Her tone spoke volumes of regret. It was awkward and unsuccessful at first in the small bedroom on the first floor of the hotel. Their naked bodies, her's soft and yielding, his hard and demanding, became bathed with sweat as they attempted, to attain congress. Each time she cried, aloud her pain he withdrew from her, desperately wanting release from the ache of desire but afraid to hurt her.

She would not look up at him and pressed the side of her head hard into the pillow, shutting her eyes tight as she spread her legs and arms wide in submission.

"You gotta help me, Miss Fisher," he gasped.

Her hands reached for him and the gentle touch of her fingers was almost painful in the jolt of pleasure it sent through him. The hardness of her erect nipples pressed through the hair of his chest as he lowered his weight on to her and the squeal of pain that burst from her lips became a sigh as he pierced into her.