The Vow (Black Arrowhead Series Book 1)

by Dannika Dark

  He’d expected me to run, and to his credit, he was right. I’d run a good distance in search of an ideal spot to lure him to me.

  Once I found the perfect clearing, stars shining, I scaled a tall tree with sturdy branches. Crow’s owl was an innocuous creature, so if he was going to kill me, the only way would be to climb after me or land on a branch and shift. Either way, I had an arrow with his name on it.

  I selected a secure bough high in the treetop. Once in position, I pushed my vocal cords to the limit. “Somebody, please help me!” Of course I didn’t need help, but those were undoubtedly the words he was listening for—words that were probably music to his ears.

  The stars glimmered through a gap in the trees. I stilled when I heard the flapping of wings and a rustle from across the way.

  Gotcha.

  I paid attention to every sound, mentally pinpointing his location and distance. When a sharp light pierced the darkness below, I held my breath and hid. Indistinct whispers came from below, but I couldn’t risk looking. They might have been with Crow, but if not, they could spook his animal. This was my only shot, so I relied on the light from below to help me scan the surrounding trees.

  There you are. Peering around the tree trunk, I spied the owl perched on the edge of a branch across the clearing. He had turned his head away to blend in with the leaves. I planted my right foot on the adjoining bough, my left shoulder pressed firmly against the trunk to steady me. With the bow in my left hand and the arrow in my right, I mentally rehearsed every step—the exact pull of the bowstring needed to clear the distance, my aim, finding balance, and how fast I could retrieve another arrow if I missed.

  The light swung toward the trees to my left. Ignoring it, I kept my attention locked on Crow’s location, though I couldn’t see exactly where he was. I remained utterly still. As my vision adjusted to the light, I centered my eyes on only one thing—that damn owl.

  A hawk flew out from his nest and startled me enough that my foot slipped.

  Stay calm.

  The light abruptly swung back to Crow, and someone shouted. My heart skipped a beat when the owl suddenly ascended from the branch. A knife spiraled through the air and clipped the tip of his wing before it disappeared into the shadows. I couldn’t discern what was happening below, nor did I care. At first I thought Crow might fall, but his owl was struggling to process the injury and make his escape.

  I stepped onto the bough facing the clearing, my left leg in front to steady my balance. With careful precision, I pulled back the bowstring and released. The arrow sliced straight through his wing—right where it connected to his breast.

  When I swung my gaze downward to assess the threat, I saw Lakota. The way he looked at me put goose bumps on my arms, and when he howled, it made my heart flutter. The person next to him aimed a flashlight in my eyes, and when I took a step back, my foot slipped.

  Panic shot through me as I fell like a stone. A branch scraped my arm, and another below snapped in two when I struck it with my back. It happened so fast. One minute I was balanced and in control, and the next, I was spinning through darkness in what must have been a forty-foot drop. If my neck broke, that was it.

  Realizing I might be falling to my death, I screamed. It didn’t sound like me. None of this was real. Branches slipped through my fingers like icicles, and I squeezed my eyes shut before slamming into the ground. The impact knocked the wind out of my lungs, but I felt no pain.

  When my eyes snapped open, I realized that Lakota had somehow caught me. We went toppling over, and he fell onto his side, taking the brunt of the impact, but he never let go.

  We looked at each other.

  “You okay?” he asked. An inexplicable light sparked in his eyes.

  “You keep saving me” was all I could say.

  The corners of his mouth hooked into a smile. “You act like that’s a bad thing.”

  Kaota’s flashlight darted to the treetops, pulling us out of the moment. Lakota sprang to his feet and turned around. Confusion swam through me when metal glinted from above. The beam of light stopped on Crow’s owl, and as he lost balance grasping for a branch, something fell from his beak. I drew in a sharp breath when I realized what I’d seen.

  “Lakota!” Before I finished saying his name, the knife made a quick descent and disappeared.

  I sat paralyzed for a moment. As Lakota slowly pivoted toward me, he collapsed onto his back.

  “No!” I scrambled to his side on my hands and knees.

  When I reached for the knife handle, Kaota seized my shoulders.

  “Wait! You’ll kill him.”

  That was enough to stop me in my tracks.

  He placed one hand on Lakota’s chest and aimed the light on it. “There’s a hook on the top of the knife, and it’s penetrated his chest. If you twist it the wrong way, you might slice his heart or an artery.”

  Instead of the blade being in his body to the hilt like with most stab wounds, it had fallen at an angle since he’d been standing up.

  “Slow your heart,” Kaota urged. “I’m going to do this fast, but you need to shift as soon as it comes out. Not a second later. It will hurt, so don’t lose awareness. Embrace the pain—let it guide you.”

  My hands were shaking, my chest tight, tears welling in my eyes. How could this be happening? Had I not struck the owl, would he have dropped the knife? Oh, please no… Not Lakota.

  Crow bellowed from where he’d fallen and shifted. He tried desperately to break the tip of the arrow jutting out of his chest so he could pull it out and heal.

  Kaota gave me a cursory glance. “We must hurry. Hold him down.”

  I laughed mirthlessly. “Do you really think I’m strong enough to manage that?”

  He gave me a stern look, so I anchored my hands on Lakota’s shoulder. Blood trickled from the wound but not much since the blade was still in place.

  “It should come clean out,” Kaota promised, lightly touching the handle. “I can’t see if it twisted when it went inside him. If it did, he could die instantly.”

  “Quit talking and just do it! You’re wasting time.”

  Then I realized how frightening this must be for Lakota. I leaned over his face and searched for some sign that he could hear me. His eyes were open, but he was somewhere else—in a dark place that people went when hanging on to this world by a delicate thread. Lakota must have instinctively gone catatonic, knowing that one wrong twist or deep breath could pierce his heart. He was short of breath, and his color was off.

  “Look at me,” I whispered, tears slipping down my nose.

  It felt as if the knife were in my chest. Pain glittered in his eyes, but his strength shone through. Lakota dragged his gaze to meet with mine, and a peaceful look softened his features.

  “Freckles,” he whispered.

  I couldn’t bear it. “Stay still. You’re not allowed to breathe.”

  His lips twitched.

  “You can’t die on me,” I continued. “You won’t. This isn’t how it ends. Do you hear me? The second he pulls the knife out, I want you to shift. Then shift right back. Keep doing it as many times as you can.” I cradled his head in my hands, my thumbs lightly brushing over his thick eyebrows. Never had there been a more courageous man than Lakota Cross.

  When his mouth moved silently, I bent over and put my ear against his lips.

  “You were… so beautiful,” he whispered.

  Memories flashed in my mind—Lakota’s bright smile, how fast he could run when we raced to the creek as children, the way he always looked out for his little sister, how fiercely he held me, how tender his lips were against mine, the way his face beamed whenever he saw his family. Memories scattered like ashes in the wind, resting on a final image of me in his arms, surrounded by his smell and soft words as I drifted to sleep. I’d never felt so safe and protected with anyone, not even my own family.

  I was going to lose him—right there in my arms.

  “Let’s do this so I can put the knife
in that white man,” Kaota growled. He lightly gripped the handle and whispered the dreaded countdown.

  Lakota clenched his teeth and stared at the night sky. I braced my hands on his shoulders, a quiet prayer on my lips.

  Kaota lifted his arm lightning fast, and I cringed at the terrible sound as the knife ripped out. A piece of flesh hung from the hook, and I almost screamed from the shocking sight of it. Lakota arched his back, his eyes rounding and his mouth open in a silent scream.

  “Shift!” I pleaded.

  His body swirled into Shifter magic, changing form. Normally a Shifter turned their body in such a manner that the garments fell away, but his pants were tangled around him, so I stripped them off.

  “Again,” Kaota urged, nudging him. “Lakota!”

  His wolf was unresponsive.

  Kaota held his hand over Lakota’s snout and searched his eyes. After a pregnant pause, he said quietly, “It’s too late. He’s gone.”

  I clawed the earth and swung my gaze skyward. “Don’t you dare leave this body! If you’re watching, I want you to come back to me.” Tears spilled from my eyes, and I shook his wolf.

  Kaota placed his hand over my back. “I was there the day my brother was born. And if I had been there the day of his death, I would have sung to him. Do not let the dead see your pain. If you care for Lakota, let his spirit go in peace.” He somberly rose to his feet with the knife in hand and stalked toward Crow, who was struggling with the arrow.

  I circled around Lakota and put my hands on his chest, horrified by the absence of breath. Though I’d never done compressions on anyone, let alone a wolf, I couldn’t accept his death and refused to give up without a fight. He was too young, too strong, and had his whole life ahead of him. I imagined the immeasurable grief his mother would experience the moment she found out that her only son had been struck down. All the years his adoptive parents spent loving and nurturing him, reading him to sleep and making him into a man. And for what? So he could die before he’d had a chance to live?

  I placed my hands on his side and began compressions. After twenty, I cupped my hands around his snout and blew through his nostrils. Some of it escaped, but I went back to compressions.

  “Don’t you do this to me,” I said, my voice broken. “Don’t you do this to your family. They need you.”

  I cupped my hands around his snout again and blew out another breath. When he didn’t respond, I rested my cheek next to his, my lip quivering. “I need you, Lakota. I’ve always needed you.”

  On the fifth compression, he gurgled and coughed.

  I frantically rubbed his face when I saw a flicker of life in his eyes. “Shift, Lakota! Do you hear me? Shift!”

  His eyelids fluttered. Unlike the last time, his body morphed very slowly until it took the shape of a beautiful, wounded man. Blood covered his chest, so I used his shirt to carefully wipe it away and examine the wound. It was still fleshy and raw, and there was no way to tell about internal damage. The flashlight beside me shone on my bloodstained hands.

  “Please, Lakota. Shift again. I know it’s hard, but you can’t give up.”

  Each time a Shifter used his magic to heal, it made him weaker. It was the body’s way of storing energy. I slapped his cheeks and pulled his gaze to mine. When he changed back to wolf form, his fur was too dense and concealed the wound. But he was alive, and that meant he had a fighting chance.

  My body trembled like an autumn leaf clinging to a tree. I placed a kiss on his head, my hand tracing his silken fur. He was a magnificent creature—strong and muscular, large ears, dark lines around his eyes, and a silver coat to be envied.

  “Don’t kill Crow,” I growled at Kaota. “We need him alive for answers.”

  “Wasn’t planning on it.”

  Another scream poured out of Crow.

  “Did that hurt?” Kaota asked mockingly.

  Relief came over me when a Councilman appeared from the shadows.

  “What’s going on here?” It was Jack, the hefty one with the pasty complexion. Beads of sweat were on his brow, and his cheeks were red, as if someone had slapped him.

  “Thank God. How did you find us?”

  “Saw the light. Heard the commotion.”

  “Tak’s not the killer.” I rose to my feet and pointed at Crow. “That’s the man you’re looking for.”

  Jack’s gaze darted between Lakota’s wolf and Kaota as he assessed the scene. “On what evidence?”

  “My kidnapping and attempted murder?” I offered. “Crow killed all those women. Not the tribe.”

  He wiped the sweat from his upper lip. “What proof do you have?”

  “What substantial proof do you have that Tak did it? A few arrowheads? A satchel and a knife? Anyone could have planted that evidence, and you know it. Crow planned to hunt me down, and he tried to kill Lakota. Look inside the trunk of his car, and you’ll find clothes that belonged to the victims. There’s proof all inside his house that he’s been trespassing on tribal land and stealing weapons. You can take him in on those charges if nothing else.”

  Jack rubbed his chin slowly. “Anything else?”

  I blinked as I sat there topless, my hands covered in blood, scratches on my arms, with Lakota half-alive while Kaota guarded our prisoner.

  Jack shifted his stance. “Fine. Bring him in.”

  “You motherfucker!” Crow spat. He had gashes on his thighs from Kaota’s punishment. “We had a deal.”

  Confused, I turned my head slowly to Jack, then back to Crow. When I saw the looks they exchanged, it dawned on me that they were in it together.

  A gun muzzle pressed against my temple. Jack gripped my left arm so I couldn’t move or knock the gun away. “Crow, why can’t you just keep your mouth shut?”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Sorry, but you’re just a casualty of war,” he replied.

  “There is no war. Why would you murder all those innocent girls? And Koi?”

  “I didn’t kill anyone,” he snarled. “Crow’s the killer.”

  “But you hired him. Why would you target all those women?”

  “My family made a pact with the tribe centuries ago that entitles me to this land if they’re evicted.”

  Kaota rose to his feet, the blade still in his hand. “I know of that contract. We made it as a show of trust when we needed your protection from the humans that were trying to exterminate us. It wasn’t a trade; it was meant to prove we weren’t a threat.”

  Jack’s family must have had power and influence at a time when human settlers were slaughtering Natives and forcing them off their land. Some Shifters found ways to hold on to their rightful territories, often bartering with Vampires to either charm or slay those who were targeting them.

  “You killed those girls,” I began, “just so you could pin it on the tribe and get their land?”

  “I didn’t kill anyone.” He pressed the gun harder against my temple. “The girls were his idea.”

  “But you authorized it! You’re a Councilman. What do you need with all this land?”

  The more information he revealed, the more trouble I knew I was in. But I needed to keep him talking to buy us time.

  “I’ve lived here for seventy years, and nothing’s changed. I serve on the Council, but do you think I have decent property? Land for my animal to roam? Room for a family? Their land is worth a fortune.”

  “Ah, so you just want to make a fast buck at the expense of all these lives. Didn’t you swear some kind of oath?”

  He tightened his grip on my arm. “These people are nothing but rapists and liars. They lured you out here to have their way before killing you. I got here during the struggle, but it was too late.”

  Jack wasn’t talking to me anymore; he was rehearsing. Was he bold enough to pull the trigger? Maybe he didn’t possess the courage or the audacity to kill. Kaota still had his knife, but a bullet was faster than a blade.

  “I’m just a girl,” I said in a small voice, hoping it would be enough
to tug at his conscience.

  He suddenly pointed his gun at Crow and fired.

  I stood paralyzed as the gun continued going off—shots so loud that my ears were ringing. Kaota and Crow fell to the ground. When the tip of the muzzle pressed against my cheek, I wrenched my arm and cried out. My entire life flashed before my eyes, and I realized how short a life it had been.

  Lakota’s wolf sprang to life. He moved so fast that he blurred, his jaws locking around Jack’s arm and forcing the gun away from my head. It went off as I ducked forward and stumbled to safety.

  Jack flailed, Lakota’s wolf astride him and thrashing violently. The gun was nowhere in sight. Jack used his arm to protect his head and neck, but Lakota was ripping it to shreds. When Jack didn’t shift, it revealed that his animal couldn’t stand up to a wolf.

  No mercy. Lakota was going for the kill.

  I crawled over to Kaota and gaped at the gory scene. Fragments of Crow’s skull were visible where the bullet had raced through his brain and killed him instantly. He’d taken another bullet in the neck and one in the chest.

  Kaota had bullet holes in his throat and shoulder. I reached around and felt an exit wound on his nape. He was gurgling in an attempt to breathe, but the fact that he hadn’t shifted led me to believe that the bullet in his shoulder had found no escape.

  When I felt a bump on his back, I knew what had to be done. “Roll over,” I ordered, pushing his arm.

  Kaota rolled onto his side, clutching his throat and choking on his own blood. I found his knife on the ground and sliced over the lump, hoping the bullet would magically pop out. Unfortunately, it didn’t.

  “This is going to hurt,” I warned him. At first I squeezed his skin, but nothing happened. Then I buckled down and did what needed to be done. Unable to see very well, I used my finger since I didn’t want to stick the blade back in there and cut him worse.

  He gave a raspy moan, and I dug fast to get it over with. Once I felt the metal lodged inside him, I quickly dug it out.

  “Hurry and shift!” I squeezed his shoulder and scurried backward so his wolf wouldn’t attack me. Kaota shifted and swung his head around.