Wild Cards

by Katalina Leon

  “Technically no. There are no laws against what I did, only guidelines.”

  “May I ask what you did?”

  “What I did was stupid and I will never repeat it. I don’t want to tell you because…” He fell quiet, stroking his hand against his sideburns. “Because you’ll think I’m a jerk and want nothing to do with me.”

  “I won’t think you’re a jerk. Besides, Roy partnered us together. We should be honest with each other.”

  A waitress in a tiki-print blouse led them to a small table and set down two menus.

  They sat. After the waitress walked away, Kai clasped his hands on the table and looked directly at her. “I care what you think. To be honest, I’ve had my eye on you for a while.”

  Her throat went dry. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I couldn’t ask you out. My stuff is too complicated. You seemed special, different. Of course I had no idea you were an empath and fire elemental. I never met one before. I guess that explains why….”

  “Why, what?”

  He appeared a bit flustered and shook his head. “Never mind.”

  A breathless moment passed. “I’ve been looking at you too.”

  “Seriously?” A big smile swept the gloom from his face. “Until yesterday, you gave me little encouragement.”

  “I can’t help it. I’m shy.” And inexperienced? Only a very strong man would do, and have to make the first move? What other awkward admissions could she make? She picked up the menu and looked. “What’s good here?”

  He surveyed the menu. “Do you like pork?”

  “Yes.”

  “I know what I’m getting. Palusami.”

  She giggled. “I have no idea what that is.”

  “It’s delicious. My favorite dish when I was a kid. My mother made it every Sunday.”

  She rearranged her side of the table by scooting a bottle of soy sauce and a dispenser of napkins aside. “Do you get along well with your mother?”

  “I love her, though I know I wasn’t a delight for a single mother to raise. She was a maid and always worked at least two jobs. Poor woman was exhausted. We followed the tourist industry from island resorts in American Samoa to Vanuatu and then Hawaii. By my mid-teens, I sort of took advantage of my unsupervised freedom and ran wild.”

  “No father?”

  A wary shrug betrayed his discomfort with the topic. “He’s one of the gods of the sea, a grandson of Tangaroa. Dude’s on an ego trip and definitely out of the picture. I’m not sure my mother ever had a chance to tell him about me. She won’t talk about it, and it wouldn’t matter if she did. I’m just another bastard among many. No love lost there. From what I hear, he’s pretty volatile and likes goading giant squid and sperm whales to go to war, stirring up cyclones or sinking some poor schmuck’s fishing boat.”

  “If you don’t have contact with your father, who banished you to Vegas?”

  Kai’s mouth sank into one of those serious frowns that drag the corners of the eyes into the drama. “My uncles on the Oceanic Council. They did it for my own good. Or so I’m told.”

  “So you have uncles but no father?”

  “In my circle, an uncle is just as important. An uncle is a real or chosen family member who sticks around. I was a hotheaded fifteen-year-old when I met my uncles by accident at a surfing contest on the big island. They watched me take a long, glorious ride on a monster wave, nodded, and said, ‘He’s got to be one of us.’ I’ll be damned, it turned out I was.”

  “Was it a relief to know you belonged to another group?”

  “Hell yeah. I always knew I was different. I just didn’t know how different. In temperament, I take after my mother. Most days, I feel more human than anything else, but I have this other side too.”

  Adara toyed with the chain of her necklace. “I know exactly what I am and I still don’t know where I belong.”

  He huffed. “I hear you. It’s not easy.”

  “Do you ever wish you could just have the human experience, pure and simple, and find out what everyone is raving about?”

  Sadness flickered in his gaze. “I never think about it. It doesn’t even seem possible.”

  The waitress returned. “Have you had a chance to read the menu? What can I get you?”

  Adara hadn’t even looked and floundered to make a decision.

  He tapped the tabletop. “How’s the Palusami?”

  “Which one?” She beamed. “We have steamed Ahi, corned beef, and Spam.”

  Joy flooded his face. “Spam, please.”

  Adara pushed the menu away. “Spam? As in mystery meat that has to be freed from its tin prison with a key?”

  He nodded. “It’s fatty as hell, and browns to a crisp with enough salt in it to swell an elephant’s ankles, but I love it.”

  It sounded risky. “That’s what you’re ordering?”

  “Yes, and barbeque pork ribs.”

  She loved the happiness beaming on his face. “Well then, I’ll have that too.”

  The waitress smiled. “It comes with pineapple rice and fried yams.”

  “Perfect.” Kai grinned like a kid.

  “Anything to drink?”

  Adara raised her hand. “Iced tea.”

  “Coke.”

  The waitress walked away.

  Adara watched her go. “I hope I’m not sorry.”

  “You won’t be.”

  The warmth of Kai’s expression made her want to keep smiling until her face ached. Seated across from him, it was almost as if they were on a casual date instead of preparing to discuss the gruesome details of multiple homicides. She allowed herself to be drawn into the dark luster of Kai’s gaze. Part of her wondered if elementals opposite in every way could work as a couple.

  He gazed back at her in contented silence.

  The shopping bag at her side was a glaring reminder they were still on the clock. She reached inside and removed the grimoire. “Before our food arrives, I’m going to take a peek at this doorstop of antiquity.”

  “That’s what your father handed you?” He squinted at the title. “Daemonium venator liber. What does that mean?”

  “Roughly, it translates into, Demon Hunter’s Handbook. It belonged to my grandfather. Think Edwardian-era demon stalking for idiots, 101. Don’t worry, it’s written in English. It’s basic spells and protective incantations—that sort of stuff. The book covers a little of everything, including a section on skinwalkers. I’m hoping to spot something useful.”

  She opened the grimoire. The musty scent of ancient vellum made her nose tingle. “I’ll put this away when the meal arrives.” Turning the pages with care, she stopped at a section marked with a delicately carved piece of fragrant rosewood.

  The chapter heading read “Rancorous Witches, Shape-Shifters and Mimics,” and featured an illustration of a hideous, barely-recognizable-as-human creature wrapped in a wolf’s pelt, with the animal’s snarling head still attached.

  Kai rose from his seat and switched to her side of the booth. He slid across the vinyl upholstery until his solid thigh touched hers. Settling his weight, he leaned over the book. “Gross. This is not what I’d call dinner table reading.”

  “My father used to read this stuff to me as bedtime stories.”

  “It’s a wonder you ever slept. Can I read along with you? I’ve never seen a book like this before.”

  “Sure.” It surprised her how comfortable she was with Kai. The best part was he seemed to accept her at face value, which was something totally new to her. Lacking the ability to scan his mind was turning out to be a bonus. She found herself watching his body language more carefully. The crook in his smile or slight tilt of his head when he looked at her with his eyes shimmering told her all she needed to know. Every clue he offered screamed interest.

  Kai leaned closer, his elbow pressed against her arm. “The legend of the skinwalkers originates with the Navajo. It is said that skinwalkers will break into houses and attack the people inside. They often
bang on the walls, rap on the windows, or climb onto rooftops to stomp. Sometimes, a strange, animal-like figure can be seen standing outside the window, peering inside with a threatening gaze…” He paused. “Your dad actually read this stuff to you at bedtime?”

  “He’s a devil, what can I say?” She laughed. “It was meant to be educational and he was right. Here we are making use of the info.”

  “Yes, we are.” His voice rumbled with the same deep tones as a well-tuned engine. Listening to him put her at ease. How great would it be to have him whisper something extra sweet or nasty hot between the sheets? “Skinwalkers are said to be fast, agile, and impossible to catch. Attempts to shoot or kill one are seldom successful.” He looked up. “Just a thought, but I wonder if skinwalkers can evade security cameras. Maybe that’s why we don’t have any footage of someone leaving the crime scenes.”

  “Maybe. It’s worth considering.” With effort, she turned away from him and skimmed the page. Having Kai so near made her want to unbutton his shirt and run her hands across his broad chest, and she was afraid those thoughts showed on her face.

  He brushed his nose against her hair and sniffed. “I can still smell the Fae perfume. I like it.”

  Her chest tightened. “I usually skip fragrance, but that might change. It was fun trying something different.”

  Kai bathed her in a sweeping gaze. “You look like a dream.”

  A bad case of bashfulness overwhelmed her. “A little hard to believe but that is so kind.”

  His eyelids fell to half-mast, making him look like a big lazy cat. “I’m telling the truth.”

  Barely able to breathe let alone speak, she mumbled a broken, “Thank you.” Having his approval meant so much, almost more than she could safely handle. Then it dawned on her—was this newfound mutual attraction real or evidence of Gisele’s necklace in action? Were the sparks shooting between them just an illusion? Tomorrow, would she wake up and discover it was over? Just in case, she’d better remain on guard and not make a fool of herself.

  With effort, her attention returned to the business at hand. “Skinwalkers use charms to instill fear and control in their victims. Such charms include human bone beads launched by blowguns, which embed themselves beneath the surface of the skin, often without leaving a mark.” The events of the day were getting jumbled in her mind. “Whoever struck Montgomery Coldburn failed at the task. Both the bullet and the bone bead most definitely left marks.”

  “Maybe the mess was deliberate? You know, to cause fear and panic?”

  “Ripping a heart out in the laundry room would do the same, don’t you think? I would say the killer has a flair for the dramatic. They want their handiwork seen.”

  The waitress headed in their direction.

  Adara remained silent as the woman delivered their drinks and slipped away. She glanced at Kai, the enraptured expression on his face making him look like he wanted to skip dinner and take her to bed. She found it hard to believe his undivided attention was directed at her. It took a moment to collect her thoughts and commence reading. “The Navajo say that if the identity of the skinwalker is known, the victim is advised to pronounce the offender’s full name three times. Within three days, that person would either get sick or die from the wrongs they had committed.” She paused. “So, it sounds like skinwalkers need to be called out and formally accused.”

  His leg pressed firmly against hers, in a moment of unmistakable intimacy.

  She tried unsuccessfully to tune it out. Glancing away from the book, she fixated on a soothing photo of tropical surf hung above their booth. “I just thought of something. When Sam brought the cleaning lady, aka La Araña, to the station, is there a chance she was fingerprinted?”

  “For a simple statement? No.”

  “Do you think we could get her fingerprints and find out her real name?”

  “Even if we get her prints, she’d have to already be in the system. I’m just curious, with so many people at this convention who could be likely skinwalkers, why focus solely on her?”

  “I don’t know. Intuition?” She continued. “‘To gain control over a victim, a number of techniques might be employed. A skinwalker may collect strands of the victim's hair, wrap it around a potsherd, and place it into a tarantula hole. Live snakes can be used as charms to incapacitate a victim.’ Oh, God, listen to this. It gets worse. ‘A powder called corpse dust, or án't'i, can be used to poison victims.’”

  The subject made her nauseous. “Yuck. ‘Corpse dust is composed of ground bones from the fingertips or back of the skull, preferably from twins. The dust is blown into the victim’s face, leaving them vulnerable to the will of the skinwalker.’”

  “Do you think the ashy stuff on Charles Coldburn was corpse dust?”

  “It’s looking like a strong possibility. As an aspiring skinwalker, Charles certainly would have recognized the nature of the attack.”

  Kai raked his hand over his sideburns. “If he didn’t, having his heart ripped out clued him in.” He pointed at the page. “It just keeps getting creepier. ‘Not every witch is a skinwalker, but every skinwalker is a witch. Skinwalkers are said to mimic the voices of family members or may imitate the cry of an infant to lure victims from the safety of their homes.’ Crying like a baby? Jesus, that’s messed up. ‘Legend claims the most accomplished skinwalkers possess the power to read human thoughts…’” He froze. “Isn’t that what you do?”

  “Yes, but I’m empath, not a skinwalker. There’s a big difference.”

  Tracing his finger above the handwritten line, he paused. “Look at this. ‘A skinwalker cannot enter a home without invitation.’” Heightened wariness entered his gaze. “What other supernatural creature does that sound like?”

  “Vampire,” they said in unison.

  She thumbed ahead. The next page was embellished with an illustration of a wizened figure covered in animal fur, clutching a bloody heart. “Uh-oh. Look at that.” The caption read, “Sometimes, the heart of a powerful rival can be offered to a dark entity in exchange for greater power.”

  She quickly turned the page to read more, but the section on skinwalkers came to an abrupt end. A new topic was mentioned—Dryads.

  “That’s all?” She skipped back. “Damn. We need more to go on than this.”

  The waitress arrived, balancing a platter on her raised palm. “Ready for a treat?” Two heaping plates were set on the table. Steaming mounds of rice with flecks of red pepper and chunks of pineapple added a festive appearance. The golden-orange yams were fried crispy on the edges, and the palusami looked like tiny gifts wrapped in emerald green leaves. “I’ll check back.” She left.

  Adara slipped the book into the bag and looked at her plate. “Almost too pretty to eat.”

  “You’ll want to eat them.” He picked one up. “I know we’re in a restaurant and it looks rude, but no one’s looking. At home, I eat these with my hands.”

  She picked one up too. “If you can do it, so can I.” The first bite was messy but delicious. The taro leaves were heavy-bodied, like a steamed kale. The center was filled with grilled spam and a creamy sauce made of coconut milk that dripped everywhere. “Yum.”

  The look in his eyes made it clear the meal had transported him to Heaven. “Use a piece of yam to mop up the sauce.”

  Between bites, she managed to ask, “You really miss home, don’t you?”

  “Bad.” He nodded. “I need to be near water. Living in Vegas these past months has driven that point home. I didn’t realize until I moved away from the ocean just how important it was to me.”

  “So, whenever you’re finished doing whatever it is that you’re doing here, you plan to leave?”

  “The day the Oceanic Council says I’m finished, I’m out of here! I’m moving someplace with a coastline. For a while, I lived in San Buena, California. Loved it. They have a big enchantment community there, and an Indian casino. I might go back.”

  Clearly, he was eager to leave. A sense of falling rocked
her. “I’ve always lived in the desert.”

  He daubed a napkin to his lips. “I want to ask you something.”

  “Ask.”

  “It’s sort of personal.”

  Hoping to sound brave, she laughed. “Ask me anyway.”

  “Are you seeing anybody?”

  “That’s easy to answer. No.”

  “Just ‘no’?”

  She’d had a couple boyfriends in the past, and even a casual lover or two, but never a real relationship that got off the ground. “No one at present.”

  That sexy crooked smile of his made an encore. “Why not?”

  “Real trust comes hard when I know the day will come when my parents are introduced. Any sane man would flee. Or worse, the moment of honesty when I’m forced to reveal that I do indeed already know exactly what they’re thinking and understand why they’ve decided to break things off. I’ve already gone through that. Soulscanning is not for the faint of heart.”

  “Sounds brutal.”

  “No one enjoys having their mental privacy invaded. Plus, you saw my parents. They’re totally in love, but it’s a roller-coaster ride. What would be normal for me? Who knows?”

  His mouth tensed. “I get it. I’m in the same boat.”

  The emotional pain associated with being an empath had virtually banned her from Cupid’s playground. “Being different is complicated, isn’t it?”

  “That’s my story too.” He bit into the palusami. “What the hell. Lately, I’m starting to see what I might have been doing wrong.”

  She sipped her iced tea, surprised by how thirsty she was. “Being the weird mix that I am makes me a poor fit with most humans. What do I tell them, that I’m a classic Greek, Celtic, semi-divine-whatchamacallit? It just doesn’t seem to work out.”

  He grazed a fingertip across the crystal heart nestled against her throat. “I’m only half human. Your odds would be 50 percent better with me.”

  Being so close to Kai was like sitting on the wing of a jet waiting to take off; excited and scared didn’t begin to describe it. “Why did you touch the necklace?”

  A shy smile lifted one side of his beautiful mouth. “I was watching your breath rise and fall and I just couldn’t resist.”