Wilderwood Ch. 12

We don't say much when we get back to Lauren's place.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Got to sleep."

"Yeah."

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

We're all talked out. Emma goes into her room and closes the door behind her. I walk along the hallway and pick another bedroom at random, and I'm asleep by the time I've finished kicking my sneakers off.

The next day doesn't get off to a great start. I wake up late and after a very long shower and a change of clothes I go do to get some breakfast/lunch and find Emma doing the same. Lauren is there too, and from the wary looks she gives us both I guess my sister has given her some idea of what went on last night. She watches Emma and I exchange idle breakfast chat like any other brother and sister might -- really like any other -- but soon makes an excuse to be somewhere else and leaves us to it. She even picks up Magic and takes him with her, like we wouldn't feel comfortable talking with him in the room either. Seeing how judgemental that cat can look I'm not entirely sure she's wrong about that.

Not that it makes much difference. We talk around last night, warily because neither of us are in a hurry to return to that subject even though we know we have to, until eventually Emma stands up and says, "Let's go for a ride."

"Sure."

I get a text from Zack while my sister is getting ready, asking me why I'm not in Pop! today. Oh yeah, it's Monday. I make a vague excuse and point out that we're both going to quit this week anyway, seeing as it was only ever a summer job and we're starting college soon, but I say I'll be in tomorrow.

Emma comes back as I'm finishing up with that. She's in a black tee and shiny black leggings, with two belts and her chunky heeled boots, and her black leather jacket. No choker today, but then the one she was wearing she threw off a bridge last night so... yeah. She's also carrying a small backpack, but given the size of it I assume she's not planning on leaving town.

"I know a good place to talk," she says, and I follow her outside to her bike. She slings the backpack on the back and then we go.

* * * * *

Emma takes the bike down Hamilton Hill and back into Wilderwood. It's obvious she has a destination in mind and we cross through the town fairly quickly and come onto the back road that runs all the way along the southern edge of Wilderwood Forest. The Styx, Emma called it that time, the first day after we got together. The river that divides the real world from the other world.

At first I think we're heading toward Conway, since this road eventually links up to the highway that leads out there, but we turn right, not left, and then I wonder if we're going to go around the north side of Trinity Cross and take the same road we took last night, which isn't a comfortable thought.

We don't though, stopping just short of the oldest part of town -- close enough that we can see the sloped rooftops through the trees and above them the tall, grey stone spire of the church that gives the district its name. Emma takes her helmet off and I do the same, and she nods to our left. "Do you know what that is?" she asks.

There's a side road to our left, leading into the forest. Actually it's probably a bit of a stretch to call it a road, since it's more of a broad dirt track, just wide enough for a car maybe, but so overhung with the branches of the trees on either side it's hard to see, even in the early afternoon light.

I shake my head. "No, not really."

"Rey showed it to me a while ago. It leads down into the valley. I guess it's one of the old bootlegger routes that Richard Wilderwood used. Rey says there are roads down there like this one that go all the way up to the state line."

"Rey goes down there?"

Emma nods. "She and some of the other girls."

"Really?"

"Uh huh."

Wow. So they really do hold witchy rituals in the Wilderwood. Cool. I guess that's one thing Trowley was right about. Actually from the way our great-uncle was talking last night it sounds like he gets more right than we know, which is a weird thought in itself.

Emma turns her head and gives me a quick smile. "It's kind of a rough ride in places, so hold on tight."

Any wariness I feel at the thought of going into the valley is forgotten as I move my hands a little more around my sister's slender waist, feeling the studs on her belts and the tight, black vinyl stretched over her hips. She leans back against me slightly as she turns her bike onto the path, and we take the old road into the forest, along a winding path that leads us down into the valley. Into the Wilderwood.

At least as much as we can go into a place that isn't really a place at all. On Google Maps it's all just Wilderwood Forest, at least until it reaches the state line at which point it becomes another forest with another name. When people around here say the Wilderwood they're usually referring to the valley that runs most of the length of the forest from the state line south to Conroy, then turns west all the way along to the hills where the Newley Institute is located and where it reaches its narrowest and deepest point before broadening out again until it's no longer a valley at all by the time it reaches the Lake Mill.

We don't go all the way down to the floor of the valley, stopping on a small, flat ridge of grass about halfway down that overlooks the river below. Seen in daylight, with the sun filtering through their branches, the trees don't look nearly so strange even though some have grown over however long it's been into strange shapes. They close in all around us, but it's less like we're beng surrounded and more like we're being guarded.

And it's quiet. It must be some trick of the acoustics of the sides of the valley but there's no noise from the road up above and behind us, or from the highway out of sight off to the east. There's an old, disused railroad bridge visible further to the west, but other than for the two of us and Emma's bike that's the only trace of a world beyond the Wilderwood.

Yeah, I guess it is a good place to talk.

Emma pulls up in the shade of the trees and I get off the bike and stretch my legs. I'm more rested than I was yesterday but still it's been a hell of a weekend and I'm still a little stiff. Emma stays sitting on her bike, though turned around and leaning back against the handlebars.

"Last night," she begins, wasting no time now, "I really believed it."

"He wanted us to believe it."

Emma nods. "I suppose I've spent so long not wanting to look for an explanation I was ready to accept the first one I was given."

"I guess so," I say, and leave it at that. I don't want my sister to relive last night. Not now. Not ever.

Emma shrugs. "All the same, do you ever think about how this happened?"

I shake my head. "No, not so much."

"I didn't either. I told myself it was just like I said the other day. That we were such good friends when we were younger why wouldn't this happen between us now?"

I nod, but don't say anything, waiting for her to finish the thought as we continue walking.

"It happens all the time, right? So why not to us? Except we're brother and sister and it's not supposed to happen to us, is it?"

"It did though."

"It did," Emma say softly, "and I can't tell myself it's wrong because it does feel so right. I've never felt like this with anyone else, Jamie."

"Because I'm your brother." It comes out harsher than I intend but my sister continues before I can take it back, lifting her head again and meeting my gaze.

"No, because you're you."

"Do you really mean that?" I ask, and the hurt in her eyes immediately makes me regret doing so. She means it. "Sorry."

"No. I said a lot last night..."

I shrug, still not wanting to go there again. "So why question what we've got?" I ask, to shift away from that. "Why don't we just go with it like we have been and see what happens?"

"You're starting college in a week, Jamie."

I'm not seeing a connection. "So?"

"College. Frat parties and beer pong." Emma rolls her eyes. "Right?"

"And?"

"So don't you want to experience ll that with a girlfriend you can actually be seen with in public?"

"Emma, we're in public all the time."

"Not like that."

"I don't need that."

Emma throws her hands up. "How do you know? You've never had that!"

Ouch. I mean she's not wrong but...

"I'm your first girlfriend, Jamie How do you know I'm what you want when you don't know who else is out there?"

I start to laugh.

Emma slides back on the saddle, leaning against the handlebars. "What's so funny?"

I walk over and hop onto the back of the bike, kicking my legs idly on either side of it as I face my sister.

"You sound like Dad."

"Huh?"

"Telling me to get out more and meet girls."

Emma scowls. "I'm serious!"

I let my smile drop before my big sister gets annoyed with me. "I know."

"I'm just saying," she continues, "you've got options." Emma sits forward again, resting her hands on her thighs. "I mean it's not like I'm the only girl out there who could be your bad girl in black leather."

I can't help but think that if my sister is really trying to convince me of that she probably shouldn't be doing it while sitting on her motorcycle and running her hands over her high gloss, black vinyl leggings.

"Emma, I didn't fall for you because of your new look..."

"Liar," my sister says, but there's a hint of a smile on her lips as she says it.

"Okay, so I did," I admit, "but it's not like you weren't getting your kink on too, Sis." I pause, not sure if I want to say the next part out loud. "The difference is you don't have other options, because I'm your only brother."

Emma looks down. "It's not about that, Jamie. It's not just that you're my brother. Not now. It's that you're you."

I lean forward and let my hands rest on my sister's thighs, just below where her own hands are.

"It's not about this either," I say, and I mean it. The tight vinyl is smooth and cool under my palms, but it's the touch of her fingertips against mine that I'll remember. "You're what I want, Sis, because you're you," I pause before adding, "and because you're my sister."

My sister lifts her head again and I meet the gaze of her amazing green eyes.

"We've got so much to lose if we don't end this, Jamie," she says quietly.

"Maybe," I say, "but we won't lose each other."

We kiss, and it's like it's the first time, or maybe how the first time should have been. Hesitant, wary, watchful. Emma keeps her eyes open and on mine right up until the moment when our lips meet, and then she closes her eyes and moans so softly I don't so much hear it as feel it.

Emma's lips part and so do mine and she slides forward on the smooth saddle of her bike, raising her legs and wrapping them around my waist as I put my arms around her leather-clad back and pull her close against me. Whatever need my sister feels for me is exactly mirrored by my need for her and we press together, tongues intertwined as we draw breath from one another.

Breaking the kiss and leaning back, Emma shrugs out of her leather jacket and arches her back as her black t-shirt and bra follows her jacket. Raindrops that make it through the foliage of the trees overhead fall on her bare skin and I chase them down her neck and shoulders and over her tits with my tongue, following the paths they make on my sister's body, which is soft and smooth and warm.

Every time my tongue brushes against her piercings Emma gives a reflexive little shudder, and when I take one of the fine steel rings between my teeth and let my tongue run over her hard nipples she whimpers my name and clutches at my back, pulling herself against me even more. I chase another raindrop down between her tits and then follow another drop to the other ring, my hands up now and cupping my sister's firm, perky tits.

Emma gives a low groan and drops her legs from around my waist, turning on the saddle of her bike to stretch out along it. She clutches onto the handlebars and pushes her hips up and I let my hands roam over the glossy curves of her upturned ass, stroking and squeezing and using a light pull on the belts that hang loosely around her hips to pull her back against me.

"I want you in me, little brother," Emma says in a low, eager voice as I peel her shiny, black vinyl leggings down and unbuckle my belt. I stretch over her, one hand reaching up to grasp the back of her neck as I ease into her, finding her slick and wet and so ready for me. Another light tug on her belts has my sister pushing back against me, and she moans softly as I sink my length into her and oh fuck it feels so good.

I chase the raindrops that fall on my sister's bare back, following the trails they make as she arches under me and when the movement of my hips pushes me over her I kiss her neck, her shoulders. Emma turns her head and offers up her lips to mine and the words we exchange are few and hazy. They say nothing. They say everything that needs to be said.

We go so slowly we're almost still, just the slightest movements drawing gasps from one another. We let it build until neither of us can hold back any longer and we have to let it out in a sudden burst of hard, deep thrusts against one another that has me panting and soaked with sweat as much as rain and makes Emma cum hard as she is pushed against the leather saddle of her bike. She stretches out under me, turning her head again to moan into my mouth through her climax, clenching on me intensely, and then we both slow again and let our bodies repeat those slow, slow movements, over and over again.

I don't know how long we do this. It feels like forever but then there's no time down here in the Wilderwood. No world beyond the trees. There's only us.

* * * * *

It's hardly the first time we've ended a conversation about our relationship this way, with our bodies pressed together, me panting for breath and my sister adding her own softer little gasps. Emma is even more out of it than I am, and for a while we just lie there across the bike, swapping whispers and kisses, before either of us really stir and finally climb off the bike, with my sister giggling as she pulls her t-shirt and jacket back on.

"I brought some sandwiches," she says, gesturing vaguely to the backpack on the back the bike.

It's stopped raining and now a fine mist is rising from the river below. It climbs up the slope to us and viewed through it the valley seems more even more unreal. Everything fades into vague impressions, hazy outlines of rocks and trees that seem more like a sketch of a place than somewhere real.

Emma unpacks her backpack, coming up with several paper packets of sandwiches from DeVillier's, bottles of water and soda, a thermos flask, some chocolate... I raise my eyebrows as she lays it all out.

"I thought we came down here so you could break up with me?"

My sister shrugs. "I was kind of hoping you'd talk me out of it."

I pick up one of the sandwiches and take a bite. "It looks like you figured I would."

Emma ponders her own choice of sandwich for a moment. "Not totally," she says quietly. "I mean I did tell you I didn't love you last night."

"Yeah, that kind of sucked." I shrug. "Honestly, Emma, I was way too worried about you to even think about that."

My sister gives me a very soft smile. "I don't deserve you."

"You totally do, and I'm not going anywhere." I grab a soda. "Eat your lunch."

Emma smiles and unwraps her sandwich. "Also," she says between bites, "this isn't going to do your chances of being the heir to the Wilderwood fortune any good."

I give another shrug. "I'm okay with that." I think for a moment then add, "Anyway, I don't think he'll give up on me just yet. He might not like our relationship but he hates the other branches of the family."

Emma smiles. "So we're the lesser of two evils."

"Last of the line, Sis. If he wants another generation of Wilderwoods I'm all he's got." I pause and look over at my sister. "We're all he's got."

Emma gives me a thoughtful look. "Huh."

"You've thought about it, haven't you?" I ask her.

"Kind of."

"Emma, if it's what you want..."

My sister smiles. "If it's what we want, and I'm in no rush to make that decision, Jamie."

"You're not?"

Emma's dark eyebrows go down as she studies me, and then she grins. "You've been talking to Lauren, haven't you?"

"Well, yeah."

"It was just girl talk." She grins. "You know, sharing fantasies. I guess I must have been really convincing."

"So... you don't want kids?"

"I think our lives are complicated enough as it is, little brother."

I smile back.

My sister reaches up and rubs her neck. "Have you seen the collar I was wearing last night?"

I gesture vaguely downward in the direction of the river. "I guess it's over there somewhere, couple of miles downstream."

"Oh. Right."

"I don't think Lauren will miss it. She's definitely got others."

Emma smirks. "Enough to collar and leash the entire Coven."

I laugh. "So are you ever going to tell me what actually goes on when you all get together?"

"No," my sister says with an even wider smirk.

"Didn't think so."

"Anyway," she adds, "it's nothing you wouldn't approve of."

"You guys just sit around in your pajamas playing Pictionary, don't you?"

Emma laughs. "Oh, for sure," and the way she says it has me even more convinced that they must get up to some really wild shit.

"Anyway," my sister adds, standing up and strolling over to me, then dropping down next to me,"if you can't put a ring on my finger you can at least put a collar around my neck." She looks up at my wary expression and grins. "It's just fun, Jamie. Serious fun. Like anything else we do together."

"Yeah, but from what you said even Lauren thinks you got too deep into that."

I say it cautiously, still not really wanting to delve into that part of last night again, but Emma just nods and pushes herself closer to me. "I wasn't sure of myself back then. It was hard enough to admit that I wanted my brother to fuck me without also dealing with the idea that I wanted him to spank me too."

"Yeah, I guess that would be a lot to process."

"It's something I still want to explore, Jamie. Sometimes. And I want to do it with someone I can trust, and who I feel safe with." She nudges up, under my arm with her head resting against my shoulder like she does so often. "And I've always felt safe with my brother."

* * * * *

That should be it really. It's not like we really know much more about our family history now than we did when we started looking into it -- even parts of what we were told last night aren't much more than informed guesses -- but we do know a lot more about each other, and if we don't have a definite answer as to how we ended up together I guess that makes us no different from a lot of other couples.

There's still a few other things to deal with though, over the next few days.

The Gazette's coverage of the launch event -- the real coverage that was written after Friday night -- is less dramatic than I'd expected. It calls the night 'lively' and 'surprising' but doesn't single out Dad as the cause of any of it. I guess the Wilderwoods still only get written about by name when we want to be. There's an editorial elsewhere in Monday's edition that suggests there's now some doubts hanging over the project, but implies that's due to Peter Warren and others from outside the town. A couple of Dad's business partners give guardedly optimistic quotes, but there's no quotes from Dad himself.

Penny Knight's society page isn't quite so subtle. She writes that Dad will be taking a step back from the project to deal with personal matters. So even if the Magic of Wilderwood development goes ahead he's been kicked off the team. Score one for Uncle Nathan.