Dream Breakers, Oath Takers

by Jacqueline Jayne

  Seth shook his head and slid it out of reach. “We will not nourish until after your meditation. A full stomach closes the mind.”

  “An empty stomach growls,” she retorted.

  “Good. Your spirit animal will take pity and come to you faster.” No smile. All business. Surefooted, as if he’d walked the edge of the plateau every day, he backed up without glancing down at his feet. He stopped at the farthest edge where the gray stone slab connected to nothing but blue. With the mountains high at his back and the sky dropping into the valley at his left, he appeared to grow out of the narrow ledge on which he stood. He waved her over. “Sit here with me and face the valley. You’ll feel at peace as you drift into meditation. One with Father Sky and Mother Earth.”

  “I’d prefer to feel at one with gravity.”

  As breathtaking a view as she’d ever seen, her knees felt as though they were dissolving. The ledge where Seth proceeded to sit couldn’t have been more than three feet wide. Before she could decide whether to decline or swallow the big lump of fear in her throat, Zane intervened.

  “I found on the airplane that Delphine accepted meditation better while lying flat.” He placed his wide palm on the center of her back and stroked in light circles.

  She glanced up at his profile and into the shadow of his hat’s brim where his well-defined lips curved into a reassuring smile. His serious gaze promised safety.

  “Agreed,” George said, waving his son back from the edge of the world. “The supine position works best for many. More women than men, but as I recall, Swift liked it best.”

  Swift. Somehow, the essence of a man she’d never met influenced her every action. Maybe more than the men guiding her to him.

  “Right here looks most level.” Zane pointed at the deepest section of the plateau where the horizontal stone butted against the vertical wall of the mountain. “Look good to you?”

  She nodded.

  Hand still on her back, he guided her forward. “Seth, you mind sitting against the wall near her head?”

  George’s son slipped by them. “Perfect. Upwind she’ll hear my chanting better.” He shot her a cocky grin, the first break in his solemn countenance. “Many have claimed the sound of my voice lingers with them for many weeks after their meditation, helping them to attain the same state on their own.” He squatted beside the wall. “I hope it will be the same for you.”

  An odd thing to say, but then again the entire process felt alien. She started to lower to the foot of the designated area, but George called out to her.

  “Do not sit until you create your sacred space.” He sat opposite Seth and then looked up and spoke to Zane. “Hawk with Blue Eyes, lead the ceremony, then be seated.”

  He nodded to his godfather and then turned to Delphine. “You must face the east, south, west, then north, thanking them, after which, you will thank Mother Earth and Father Sky before laying down. I will say the prayers in English, and you will simply repeat them. But mean them. From your heart, or else your spirit animal will pass you by.”

  The instructions baffled her, and she didn’t hesitate to question him. “I’ve never been a churchgoer, but I consider myself monotheistic. How do I mean them if deep down this isn’t my way?”

  “Faith in God is enough. All is one. All is connected. Whether you pray in church, in your home, or individually to all the gifts He’s created. The feelings are what matter.” He slipped a wayward lock of hair behind her ear and then took her hand. His soft eyes with delicate crinkles at the corners and his lips parted a fraction radiated kindness. Affection. Strength of character. She bet he never suffered through self-doubt. “Participating in another culture’s ceremonies isn’t hypocritical, but a step toward a universal understanding.”

  In that moment, with him standing before her, squeezing her hand and baring his spiritual soul, she realized the plummeting sensation she feared most had already begun.

  She was falling in love.

  For the first time in her life. Maybe her last. Another man like Cowboy would be damn impossible to find.

  Her heart broke a little at the same time it overflowed with intense longing. She couldn’t keep this man. He belonged to a world she desperately wanted to leave far behind.

  “I’m ready,” she said, letting go of his hand and wishing she could let go of his heart as easily.

  Zane turned her gently toward each point of the compass and said the prayers with her, instead of allowing her to parrot them back. Each sentence felt like a vow that bonded her to him and them to nature. When she’d dropped her hands after thanking Father Sky, she lowered to the stone without being told. He clasped her right hand between both of his and sat close before motioning for her to lay back.

  Instantly, the rock beneath her permeated every pressure point from the back of her head to the back of her heels with a chill worse than snow on bare feet. The high-elevation wind whisked over her, howling low in her ears and targeting her exposed face and hands.

  From her position, she could sense only the presence of the mountain in the peripheral of her right eye and Zane on her left. Otherwise, nothing but sky, an endless expanse of bridesmaid-blue. A beautiful color, but unnerving in the relentless sameness. Her head swam as if she had a fever, and she groaned along with the wind, throbbing from an undefinable place.

  “What is it?” Zane leaned over her.

  “I feel like I’m sliding off the face of the slope.”

  “You’re not, and won’t. I’ve got you.” Zane held up their joined hands. “Close your eyes and concentrate on sound. The fact you feel like you’re falling means your mind is opening.”

  He glanced up to her left, and Seth began a low drone, the chant not much different than the whispers of the wind. With her eyes closed, his voice floated inside of her and swirled—a warmth that combated the cold seeping in from below.

  Her breathing slowed and deepened. Her muscles relented against the rock. Though awake, she hovered in that ambiguous state where sleep threatened consciousness. The sensation of swaying and sliding stayed with her, but she trusted Zane’s steady grip even when she stopped feeling the pressure of his fingers.

  “Seeker of the truth,” George quietly commanded. “Do you wish to see with your universal mind?”

  “Yes,” she whispered and felt his fingers rest on her forehead.

  He mumbled unmusical words of another language, a contradiction to the pretty chant Seth continued to sing.

  Behind her eyes, shadows and colors danced like they always did when she tried to nap, and then to her amazement, a hazy vision grew with intensity.

  “I see something,” she whispered.

  George hushed her and continued his talking while he massaged her temples and the top of her head.

  Delphine focused until the haze cleared.

  In her mind’s eye, she stood on the ledge where Seth wanted her to sit, the wind kicking up around her so fast she swayed on her weak knees. Afraid of falling, she turned toward the vertical sheet of rock and leaned away from the edge until her hand touched a sturdy granite surface. Her feet refused to move, but from that position, she looked back into the depth of the plateau.

  Seth chanted and rocked while George mumbled over her still body. Zane sat with his back to her, shoulders hunched forward.

  What the hell?

  The scene couldn’t be in actual time, could it? Imagination on overdrive, she must have created the tableau from the facts she knew.

  Yet it felt so real.

  Curious more than afraid, she called out. “Cowboy.”

  Zane turned his head enough for her to see his profile. Was that recognition? Like he’d actually heard her voice?

  Not possible.

  He returned his attention to her supine body.

  Obviously, her imagination.

  Whispers floated on the air around her, unintelligible words she strained to understand.

  Panic rose into her throat and her heart raced.

  A deer cl
ambered up the steep path to the plateau and trotted toward her, stopping twenty feet away. Her racing heart halted and slid up to the base of her throat.

  Son of a gun. She’d done it. Her spirit animal arrived.

  Without spoken words, she thanked the deer for coming and beckoned the animal forward. When the deer receded and looked back down the path, Delphine inched along the rock face, hoping that approaching didn’t break the code of behavior. She wanted with all her heart to make the connection. To evolve to the next level.

  Before advancing five feet, she stopped cold in her tracks.

  A wolf leaped onto the plateau. Grayish-brown with a ribbon of dark hair streaking from the top of his head down the spine, he clenched a ball of fur between his fangs. His eyes seared into her with a feral intensity, and then he dropped his prize.

  Uninjured, the long-eared rabbit bristled and shook before hopping out of the wolf’s reach and morphing in color from soft brown to winter white.

  Confused, her thoughts raced along with an infusion of adrenaline in her blood. If not the deer, then who? Why didn’t she connect to her spirit animal? Why didn’t the meditation work any better than the online quiz?

  The air stirred with the flapping of wings, and a screech cut into Seth’s insistent chant. A bird circled the threesome with his talons arched and ready for a landing before gliding to a stop at the feet of the deer.

  Poised and staring at her, the four animals seemed to freeze in place. If it wasn’t for the wind ruffling fur and feathers, she’d have believed they’d turned to stone. Would have believed they were nothing other than pictures resulting from taking the quiz twelve times over.

  The quiz. While taking it over and over, three of these four animals kept showing up.

  What had Zane told her to do? Ask the questions.

  But of which one?

  Terrified of losing the connection with the animal sent to guide her, she posed the first question the only way she deemed appropriate.

  “Are any of you my spirit animal?”

  All four heads bobbed a yes. Not definitive. Would she have to guess which one? Maybe that wouldn’t be necessary. Instead of pushing for one to step forward, she moved on to the next question.

  “What message do you have for me?”

  In unison, a mixture of voices blended together—male and female, deep and sweet. Their mouths didn’t move, but she felt their speech vibrating in her ears and chest.

  “A dangerous journey awaits you, Delphine. One that cannot be avoided no matter how long you hide. And you’ve been hiding a very long time. Your burden is great, but your strength is greater. Each of us will come to you when needed. Follow us. Follow your heart. Follow those you trust. No one else.”

  “Of course. You’ll show me how to find Wilder Swift?”

  Three of the four looked at each other as if consulting telepathically, and then the wolf moved forward. Only his voice, deep and ominous, filled her head.

  “Your journey is your own. When your journey is at an end, finding Wilder Swift is what we ask of you in return for our help.”

  “I don’t understand. Finding Wilder Swift is why I’m here. I don’t have a personal journey.”

  “Denial is dangerous, Delphine.”

  Panic kindled hot in her chest. She didn’t want to hear anymore, and clamped her hands over her ears.

  But the voices of her spirit animals didn’t rely on sound waves.

  The wolf continued, more insistent than before. “You don’t want to bear the mantle of your gift, but ignoring your visions arms your enemy. Evil has been hunting you all of your life.”

  “Stop.” Her breaths surged, hard and labored.

  “Confrontation is imminent.” The wolf moved closer still, and her heart pounded against her breastbone. “The hunter is closing in.”

  She backed up.

  “We’ll help you, but you must embrace your gift. You must connect to your—”

  Wind rushed her face, and the images of her four spirit animals blurred into a swirl of brown against the blue sky.

  Her gut twisted sensing her body tip downward. A ringing filled her ears and then her scream. Crisp and wrought with terror.

  A second later, her eyes snapped open and her body jerked upright.

  “Take it easy. Lay back, Delphine.” Zane’s voice cut through the white noise in her head. “Breathe. Slower. Breathe slower.” Fingers still entwined, he caressed her forehead with his free hand, and she closed her eyes against the bright sun.

  While he stroked her brow, her racing heart slowed incrementally as she accepted her return to reality.

  “I thought I’d fallen off the edge.” She sat up, panting as if she’d had the wind knocked out of her, and then pointed to the far point of the plateau. “Over there. It felt so real.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. But you didn’t fall and were in no danger of doing so.” He squeezed their joined hands. A reminder he’d not let go. “And your spirit animals wouldn’t let you fall either. Your deep state was interrupted by the ringing of George’s emergency phone. He brought you out as fast as he could.”

  She glanced back at George. “Yeah,” he said into the small flip phone he held to his cheek. “We’ll handle it. No roads. Seth will take the boat.” He snapped the phone shut and met her gaze with a worried stare. “Like a pig after truffles, the French bastard has rooted you out. He’ll be here in half a day.”

  “So fast. How?” she asked, shocked at the news.

  “It doesn’t matter. The point is you must be ready before he finds you, and you’re not.” George looked at Zane. “If she’s stays at the ranch, if she’s alone for even a minute, you could lose her. Your father suggested the two of you lay low. At your place.”

  “Of course. When we get back, I’ll run to town for supplies.” Zane rose to his feet and then helped her up.

  “You’re not going back to the ranch. I’ll drop you at the slip with Seth. All your belongings are being transported as we speak. By the time you reach your front porch, Maria will have stocked the kitchen. Since you haven’t been here long enough for anyone to know you’re home, it will appear you never showed up. Hopefully, that will throw them off your trail.”

  “Throw them off our trail?” Delphine shook her head. “If they could find your parents’ ranch, they can find your place.”

  The hint of a grin forced out the shadow of Zane’s dimples.

  “No, Cutoffs. Not the FBI. Not CIA. Not Interpol. Not even the Society. Only family and maybe God can find my little place in the woods.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Seth cut the engine on the cuddy cabin, and they drifted to the innocuous jut of dock mostly hidden in the shadows of the tree line. Zane stepped over the side and balanced on the fiberglass ledge until he could maneuver toward the boat’s nose. He located the rope tied to the front and then leaped over the railing onto the wooden decking where he’d someday park his own fishing boat. He turned to tie up and noticed Delphine was still curled up in the co-pilot seat.

  On her side, with a hand beneath her cheek, she was out cold, either in deep sleep, which would be healing, or something else that wasn’t. Since she hadn’t moved a muscle in nearly an hour, he’d bet on sleep.

  He couldn’t blame her for being wasted. Though short, the vision alone would be exhausting, and they’d been awake since before dawn, driving and hiking and speeding across the lake. He hadn’t told her yet that her meditation developed into more. Or how he knew the details. That discussion would happen over dinner. With wine or whiskey.

  In fact, they’d not spoken more than a few words since leaving Quentin’s Lookout and nothing at all since boarding the boat. Intelligent and suspicious, Delphine might already suspect her time in meditation turned deeper. He only hoped she wasn’t angry.

  He tied up and boarded again, preparing to carry her off the boat when Seth shook her shoulder.

  “Hey.”

  Slowly, she uncurled and turned onto her back
, the headrest forcing her face up. Though protected by a shade canopy over the seating area, bright light filtered through. She groaned and threw an arm over her sunglasses.

  “We’re here.” Zane waved Seth out of the way and approached her.

  “How long have I been out?” She rolled her shoulders and stretched her long legs until her boots hit the floor and her arms stroked the overhead canopy. Though still in her jeans, she’d stripped down to a close-fitting T-shirt. The pose looked sexy as all hell.

  “Pretty sure since you sat down.”

  She shot him a look over the top of her glasses. “Which means?”

  “About an hour and a half.”

  On her feet, she stretched again, but the canopy restricted her arms to elbow height. “Feels longer and I could use more.”

  “You’ll get more soon.”

  “Not that soon,” Seth snorted behind his back. Louder, he piped up with orders. “Disembark. I gotta get outta here.”

  Zane took Delphine by the hand and led her toward the side.

  “Has Savard landed already?” she asked, worry in her voice.

  “Nope. I gotta hot date.” Seth flapped the front of his T-shirt. “Need a shower and time to pretty up.” The wicked grin that spread over his face reminded him of Boone. For a change, it didn’t bother him.

  Zane stepped up onto the dock and shook his head. “Pretty up? Like a girl.” He leaned over and extended his hand to Delphine.

  She latched onto his forearm, and he hoisted her up onto the dock.

  “That’s not an insult, you know. Can’t be too pretty or too rich.” Seth revved the engine. “I was born one. Working on the other.”

  Zane yanked the tether free of the pole and tossed it to Seth. “Good luck with that. You’re joining Hell Runners.”

  “Doesn’t have to be my only job.” He waved while the boat slowly chugged backward. “Have fun. Being bored.”

  “Bored?” she asked.

  “He’s kidding.” But maybe not. Zane’s home away was exactly that. Away. From everything. No TV. No landline phone. Poor cell reception. Last he checked, the internet connection worked, but once he settled down out here, he didn’t check emails or news all that often. Delphine might climb the walls in frustration. Boone sure would.