Wolf Angel by Mark Hobson (best e reader for manga .TXT) 📕

as she spoke. “Also, if the branch snaps up too high it will pull the head right off the creature like last time. Once it bleeds into the carcass it becomes inedible. Unless you like to eat your meat raw,” she joked, with a sly smile at Wenzel.

He grinned back. “I don’t think their stomachs would cope, especially the young boy. He might pretend to be tough, but he is a city boy and used to hearty home-cooked food.”

Hirsch listened, her eyes flicking back to the youngest of their little group. She wiped her forehead with her hand, leaving a smear of dirt on her skin. “He wants to fuck me,” she told him simply.

Wenzel was thrown for a moment, not used to bawdy bar-room language from a woman.

“But most men do, so it will not be a problem. Our training is our priority, and our mission to come. There can be no distractions.” She stood up, her body so close to him that it brushed slightly against his. “If it starts to be a difficulty, I will let him. And then we continue as before.”

Hirsch turned to move away, and Wenzel licked his lips which were suddenly as dry as sandpaper.

She turned back again. “Tonight, I share your dugout Wenzel.” Then she marched off through the trees.

They reached their campsite about one hour later, after they had set their snares and one more deadfall trap, hoping to eat rabbit or squirrel in the morning. For their evening meal they would have to make do with canned meat heated above a fire, and some biscuits.

They had chosen a site on the south-facing side of a heavily wooded slope, close to where a small brook flowed. It consisted of three underground dugouts, two for sleeping two people each, and the third to stockpile supplies of food and weapons. Similar arms caches were placed throughout the local countryside, their location marked on their map which they would hand in once they returned to Hulchrath.

The dugouts were constructed so as not to destroy the trees around them and thus give away their location. Once closed for the night or for longer periods, they would be virtually impossible to spot from above ground, their wooden entrances covered as they were with undergrowth and leaf-mould to camouflage them. The way in and out was an opening about two feet across which went straight down several feet before opening out into a horizontal space roughly 8 to 10 feet long and wide enough for two people to sleep and move about in reasonable comfort. Each had a wooden floor plus a drainage ditch on the downward side, and the walls and roof were reinforced with timber, making them snug and mostly soundproof.

They ate their supper quietly, sharing a few words in hushed tones. Wenzel sat across the small fire from his two male colleagues, while Hirsch boiled up a small Gerry can of water to make coffee. Once it was done she handed it around. He noticed Morgenschweiss still darting the odd glimpse at her when he thought she wasn’t looking, but the small exchange of glances she shared with Wenzel told him she was fully aware of the boy’s interest. This perturbed him. In spite of her earlier insistence that she would not allow this to become an issue, Wenzel could foresee problems ahead. It was something he would need to keep an eye on, and if necessary make it clear to the boy why it might potentially be required to drop him from the unit.

After a short time Wenzel decided it was time to turn in. They had one more day to go with the usual dawn start, and then they were to make their way back. The other two shuffled off. Hirsch poured water onto the fire and kicked and smoothed away any traces, then covered it over with leaves. She followed him over to their dugout, squirmed down into the entrance, and Wenzel follow suit.

The inside was already lit with a small oil lamp. They both settled down in their positions side by side, their bodies pushed up against each other, and without any words closed their eyes and waited for sleep.

Somewhere outside, in the distance, Wenzel heard the distinctive howl of a wolf. The sound made his skin crawl, but when he looked over at Hirsch he saw her eyes wide and glistening in the light from the lamp, a sheen of perspiration on her upper lip. He closed his eyes once more and tried to sleep.

“Damn it,” Hirsch suddenly said. Wenzel turned to gaze at her once again, to see she was sitting up and already looking at him. She stared long and hard, her brow furrowed in thought. Then, to his amazement, she commenced to undress, removing her coverall and kicking it down towards the end of the dugout. And she removed her underclothes, Wenzel seeing her hard nipples and her blonde plaits coiled down over her stomach, and the pink flush between her legs which she opened wide for him.

Eyes burning into him like icy diamonds.

“Come,” she told him.

◆◆◆

They made it back to Schloss Hulchrath on time the following evening, the castle and grounds mostly in darkness except for a few lights burning in the highest windows. Sepp and the boy made straight for the kitchens where a hot meal awaited them, but Wenzel and Fraulein Hirsch were both summoned to Obergruppenfuhrer Prutzmann’s office on the top floor.

As they ascended the narrow staircase Wenzel reflected again on last night’s events. The animal ferocity of their coupling – Wenzel would not describe it as love-making, for it was quick and wild and savage – had left him physically spent and mentally confused. Once they were both finished, she had pushed him away, telling him simply to sleep, and no further words were exchanged on the subject, not last night or this morning. Hirsch had simply carried on as though nothing had happened. But throughout the day Wenzel had pondered