Ghost Stalker

by Jenna Kernan

  He’d rather face his own death than give a woman his heart. At least there was a limit to how much suffering one could experience while dying. Not so with the pain of love.

  He groaned again and closed his eyes, knowing it was not over.

  There in the night, he trembled with need for her, straining his control to stay in his narrow single bed. How had she stirred this reaction? He had never ached for a woman as he ached for this one. He’d always chosen when and who, keeping the power for himself and making the engagements brief. He had never faced anything like this gnawing hunger.

  Was it because she was not a woman, or at least, not only a woman? She was a Spirit Child and that was something with which he had no experience.

  Perhaps she had this effect on all men. It would explain why she wore such armor against invasion. But, oh, once he found the chink and crawled inside, she was all fire and heat.

  He had three broken bones and the Great Mystery only knew how many stitches, and yet the throbbing that caused the most discomfort was well south of his ribs. He wanted her again—and not just in a dream. What would he do if she didn’t accept him again?

  He groaned.

  Nick reached for the pills she had left, seeking a few hours respite from his healing body and spinning mind. They were bitter, but it was not very long before his skin began to tingle and his eyelids sagged. The pain was still there, but disconnected somehow, as if it belonged to someone else.

  “If I’m lucky, she’ll come visiting again.”

  He slipped into a heavy sleep and did not rouse when a large black raven landed upon his windowsill. In a moment it had torn the screen away and slipped into his room.

  It hopped onto the bed and strode up to his pillow, examining the line of stitches that punctured his skin. Then with loving care, it began to preen the hair that had fallen over his face. As it worked, it made a rolling caw, low in its throat, as if humming or scolding the sleeping man.

  Jessie should have asked her neighbor to carry Nick to the upstairs bedrooms so he would be that much farther away. But she’d shut the heat off up there and the bedrooms were unfurnished, plus the distance from the bathroom and kitchen would have made caring for him more difficult. Just once she wished she hadn’t done the practical thing, because now he lay only steps from where she slept. She briefly considered moving upstairs herself, but rejected the notion. She would not let a wolf drive her from her bedroom.

  Jessie lay beneath her coverlet, resting fitfully, unable to escape from her thoughts.

  Of all the dreams she had entered, never had she been remembered. Not one of her patients ever even knew she was watching. None spoke to her unless she engaged them in conversation and no one ever touched her. She had never experienced anything like this.

  Her breech of ethics galled her and she could offer no defense. What she had done was wrong—so wrong.

  She had never been tempted to kiss a man in a dream, had never felt that exulting freedom that comes from anonymity. She had wanted him and she had acted on impulse.

  And she had been caught.

  She deserved every bit of his outrage. And now things were a hundred times worse. There would be no denying her attraction to him, not when he knew the truth. Since he had first spoken to her, she had felt the unnatural hum of desire vibrating inside her, but she’d fought it. She didn’t want to be attracted to a wolf.

  Great Mystery, if her mother ever learned of this…. Jessie trembled, pulling the blanket up around her neck but gained no comfort. She glanced out the window and groaned.

  Outside the world was black. The clock beside her bed told her it was the middle of the night, yet she could not sleep.

  Her mind lay divided. Part of her wanted to sneak away and never have to face him again. Another part recalled her promise and wondered if he needed her. Did he need the bedpan or more water? Round and round her mind raced.

  Perhaps she’d just hire someone to care for him, or bring him to the hospital. There was no danger he would transform now. He could heal there, safely, away from her.

  But he wasn’t safe from her there. She could still visit him anywhere he went. How long could she resist his allure?

  Why didn’t he have someone he could call, some family member or friend? She had never met anyone who was so absolutely alone. But then she recalled why. Her people had killed his father.

  She had promised him. She groaned and covered her head with the pillow, then tossed it away and resigned herself to check on her patient. She kicked viciously at the bedcovers and retrieved her robe.

  The night-light in the kitchen cast a yellowish glow and provided enough light for her to reach her study. There she found her pace slowed. Maybe she shouldn’t. He was a light sleeper and she might awaken him.

  Coward.

  If he didn’t wake up, could she resist the need to visit him again?

  She paused before the door as she recalled her promise to do her best for him.

  Jessie stiffened her spine and entered the study, but paused as she realized what she was wearing.

  She glanced down at her mismatched yellow-and-green fuzzy socks, her tattered lavender cotton nightgown and her very large men’s red flannel robe, which she’d taken when her father announced his intention to throw it out.

  It certainly wasn’t something she’d like to have him see her in. The very fact that she even cared what he thought of her outfit, that she had for one instant considered changing into something he might find appealing, sickened her. It showed that she had no control.

  Well, she would beat this thing. She was a Spirit Child. It meant stifling her animal impulses and acting only after considerable thought.

  Like you did earlier?

  She balled her hands into fists, hating that little voice. Jessie clasped the doorknob and turned it very gently, cracked the door and peered inside.

  The desk lamp cast enough illumination for her to see Nick, his head turned to the side, his chest uncovered and his breathing shallow. She took a step inside and registered motion near the wall.

  A raven sat on the bedpost of the headboard, its sharp beak no longer tucked beneath its wing as it turned its head and fixed two bead-black eyes on her.

  A bird in the house—the worst of all omens.

  Jessie staggered backward, striking the door with her back and slamming it closed. Nick did not even stir. That frightened Jessie even more than the raven.

  Had it killed him?

  She flicked on the overhead light and then rushed forward to strike it, but the raven opened its wings and lifted into the air, landing on the back of her comfortable chair.

  Jessie continued toward Nick, stroking his cheek and assuring herself that he was alive. She gazed down at the black stitches, knowing he would bear the scars the rest of his life. That, too, was her fault, for she had allowed a large-animal vet to stitch him instead of a plastic surgeon.

  Jessie stood between Nick and the raven. Why was it here?

  “It’s just a bird,” she whispered to herself.

  She glanced about the room for a weapon and then spotted the torn screen. This was past bizarre—a raven flying at night and breaking into a house. She lifted a glass paperweight from her desk and hefted it like a hand grenade. It was then that she noticed the familiar brown aura glowing about the bird and something more. There was a gold glow circling its head, like a wreath. It was the mark of a spiritual creature. She had never seen this color outside of a Niyanoka.

  “Son of a bitch,” she muttered and lowered her weapon. She replaced the glass orb on the desktop, keeping her eyes on the Inanoka. “I know you’re a Skinwalker.” She glanced at her patient. “Just like Nick.”

  There was a flurry of feathers as the bird grew into a woman—a beautiful woman with dark flowing hair and eyes nearly black. She was tall and lithe and lovely. She could be a cover model for native beauty, wrapped in a cloak of glossy feathers.

  An instant later she stood in a fashionable dress with
fitted sleeves and a modest neckline. An outer corset constructed of crisscrossing ribbons hugged her slim torso, which made the free-flowing skirt appear even more feminine. High-laced boots clung to her calves. Her hair was swept up in a sculptural bun that would have taken an ordinary woman hours to achieve. She wore no makeup and needed none. The Skinwalker was stunning.

  Jessie felt a roaring fire of jealousy consume her.

  The woman arched a brow as she surveyed Jessie’s outfit with slow disdain. “I didn’t know the circus was in town. But then, Niyanoka never did have any fashion sense.”

  Jessie felt the sting of the insult. Her odd combination of night clothing was made more evident by the flawless attire the Skinwalker wore.

  The woman was a knockout, making Jessie feel as though she had just crawled out from under a rock.

  “How do you know what I am?” asked Jessie.

  “A Dream Walker, you mean? Typical for a Spirit Child to think they are the only creatures who can read auras.”

  This insult stung even more because it was true. She had been taught just that and Jessie could not quite keep her mouth from gaping open as she learned otherwise. It took a moment to compose herself.

  “Why are you here?” she managed, keeping between Nick and this stranger.

  “I picked up that Nick was in distress. I’ve been following him ever since.”

  Jessie thought of the Whirlwind. “I didn’t hear a storm.”

  “I don’t like the Thunderbirds. We had words. And the journey is a nightmare on my feathers.” She lifted her arms as if to show Jessie. “So, I fly solo. It takes longer, but the experience is unparalleled.”

  Jessie recalled that ravens were the only creature that could fly to the Spirit World. That alone made this woman a powerful spiritual creature, but to be able to fly…

  The Skinwalker strode past her and sat on the bed, beside Nick. Jessie had an irrational impulse to shove her to the floor. Instead, she stayed close.

  What was the relationship between these two?

  The Skinwalker stroked his bruised cheek. “Look what they’ve done to you.”

  She glared at Jessie. The look alone was enough to cause Jessie to step back. The woman had a savageness only thinly veiled by her high-end wardrobe.

  “Did you do this?”

  “I found him on my property, terribly injured. I got him help.”

  Bess pointed to the sloppy stitches. “You call this help? You should be horsewhipped.” She was on her feet, stalking Jessie as if she meant to do the job. “Why you? Why didn’t he go to the Healer or to me? Are you one of his women?”

  Jessie caught her breath, taken aback by the barrage of questions. Just how many women did he have?

  “I never met him before.”

  “This makes no sense. I will take him.” The woman returned to Nick’s side.

  Jessie took a step after her and then stopped herself from the appearance of resentment. Damned if she’d let this mortician’s feather duster take Nick from her.

  She quickly reined in her gut reaction and impulse for a quick refusal as she recognized that this solved her problem. Nicholas would be taken care of, she would have fulfilled her promise and she would not have to keep him in her home. Temptation would be removed.

  Niyanoka thought with their minds, not their instincts, and this was the logical course.

  She breathed deeply, surprised at the continued disquiet rumbling through her like distant thunder. Where was the relief that should be hers? She could not admit to this woman that she wanted him here and so took refuge in her logic.

  “But they brought him to me,” said Jessie.

  The woman’s graceful brows descended low over her dark eyes. “Who?”

  “The Thunderbirds. He said he asked them to bring him to a healer and they brought him here.”

  The shifter rose with a suddenness that sent Jessie into retreat. “They brought him to you?”

  The shock and incredulity made her words sharp, an accusation.

  Jessie nodded.

  The woman lowered her dark brows as she studied Jessie. “Then he must stay here.”

  Nagi had gathered thirty ghosts on the earth and began sorting who would go for judgment and who he would keep to fight in his army. A soul here or there would not be missed.

  He felt the buzz of an approaching ghost, which was unusual as most fled when they sensed him. He turned and recognized one of his early enlistees.

  “Lord, a raven visits the wounded wolf.”

  A raven? He knew her. His earlier guards had told him of a wolf and raven who visited the bear.

  “Follow the raven.”

  “Yes, Lord.”

  “And don’t lose her, if you value your soul.”

  The ghost bowed.

  “Have you dealt with the Dream Walker?”

  “Soon Lord, she will be gone.”

  Nagi rippled with satisfaction.

  "Go and follow the raven. Report back when the wolf is alone."

  Chapter 12

  “But why?” Jessie could not keep the panic from her voice.

  “The Thunderbirds can see the future. So there must be more to you than your tragic sense of fashion,” said Bess.

  Jessie’s upset was momentarily overshadowed by her extreme dislike for this shifter. “This is a ranch. My clothing is practical, not…artifice.” She pointed at the woman’s stylish dress.

  She fixed her dark eyes on Jessie and again Jessie felt herself being judged. At last a slight smile curled her lips. Jessie thought it made her look more dangerous.

  “So you love animals?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you are a Dream Walker?”

  Jessie inclined her head.

  “And you have already fallen in love with our Nicholas here.”

  Jessie hesitated in her rush to deny the accusation as she felt the shadow of doubt, followed by the fear, that a hasty denial would be an admission of guilt.

  “Ah,” said the woman, seating herself in the reading chair. “I see. Well, you’re not alone. Women all over the world fall in love with him. It is as common as rain in New York.”

  Jessie mustered her emotions and then her denial. “Don’t be silly. He’s an Inanoka.”

  The shifter’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, I see. Forbidden fruit. How delicious. I’m Bess, by the way.”

  “Jessie Healy.”

  “A pleasure.” She crossed her ankles and drew back her long legs. The heels on her boots looked deadly as daggers. “And please don’t be jealous. Nick and I have been on and off for decades. Like comfort food.” Bess smiled, seeming to enjoy watching her words strike Jessie. “Don’t look so shocked. Nick will sleep with any female who lets him. He’s a wolf, after all.”

  Bess released her from the scrutiny of her watchful gaze and turned her attention back to Nick. Jessie felt her face heat at the look of longing the woman cast him. It was so obvious she loved Nick. Jessie resisted the urge to lift the paperweight again. She was taken aback by this new, dangerous impulse and came up short. Niyanoka did not act without thought and certainly not in anger.

  Bess scrutinized her and her lips twitched. “Ah, yes, he has that effect on people. I see he still has the old magic. Managed it even without his pretty face. Impressive.”

  Jessie pressed her lips together, refusing to confirm or deny the woman’s suspicions. She did not like the feeling of being just one in a string of this Skinwalker’s conquests.

  “So what will you do about it?”

  “About what?” Jessie chose not to deny her jumbled emotions but instead to lay her cards on the table. “Look, I agreed to care for him as best I could. Even if I were attracted, I cannot have anything to do with him. My family would absolutely disown me if they knew I even had one under my roof.”

  “Two,” corrected Bess.

  “Exactly.”

  “So you won’t fight for him?”

  “Fight?” She shook her head. “No. There is no future
for us.”

  Bess rose. “Well, that is true, if you are not willing to fight for him. It’s what alpha females do, you know? The wolves always have an alpha. She is the only one that mates. She fights the others to earn her position and, with it, the exclusive right to the alpha male.” She moved to Nick’s side and stroked his neck.

  Jessie balled her hands into fists and resisted the urge to plant one of them into the shifter’s gut.

  Bess drew her hand back from Nick’s collar and stared at Jessie, challenging her with her glittering black eyes. “Any female who won’t fight even her own pack for the right to take him, well, she doesn’t stand a chance.” Bess rose from the bed, her smile triumphant. “So don’t worry, little Spirit Child. He won’t disturb the neat order of your little world for long. He’ll leave you by and by.”

  Jessie hated the smug satisfaction in the woman’s expression. But her malevolence dissolved against the realization that her words were true. When Nick left her, he would not be back.

  “Ah, well,” said Bess. “You’ll get over him. And if not, at least your secret will be safe with me. I’ll never tell.”

  Bess strode from the room, leaving Jessie to hurry after her. “Where are you going?”

  “To Sebastian, I think. He will want to know.” Bess swept past her and did not pause until she was on the front porch. Only then did Jessie see that the sky was a deep midnight blue. The stars had disappeared as the world spun from night to morning.

  Bess faced Jessie. “I feel sorry for you, Niyanoka. But you lack the courage to take what you want.”

  Jessie did not know what to say to this.