A towel d****d over the driving seat, along with a wash bag and his clean hands, said he had washed recently, probably in the café toilets, his day`s...work over. A faint whiff of soap and deodorant, most welcome as he climbed onto the bunk, laying out, his hand outstretched inviting her to him. She grinned, kicking her shoes off into the footwell, and clambering over the awkward seat into his arms. She kissed him lightly, pulling up her skirt as she straddled him in the narrow single bunk, Big,. The school bus shifted into gear and took off down the dirt road.At least Carlos knew one of the priests. The priestess was Theresa Cortez, the high priestess' aunt.The priest was Scandinavian. He had been seen around town for a few months. He had pale skin, light blond, almost white, hair, a medium athletic build, and emotionless gray eyes.Both were armed, with a pistol on each hip.The Swede opened the back door. "Get in, please."Carlos' pulse quickened, taking a step back.Theresa stepped in.. More

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