“And my mountain.”
“Mount Taylor?” The coyote dipped his snout. “Why?”
“Because he could.”
I wanted to argue, but that did kind of sound like Sawyer.
“I’ve been told the Navajo don’t trust the coyote.”
Sani opened his mouth in a doggy grin. “What’s your point?”
“Why would you become one?”
“Unlike Sawyer, some of us have little choice over what we become. I dreamed of the coyote when I was a boy. I embraced the form of my spirit animal and the magic it brought to me.”
“Black magic,” I said.
“We take what we are given.”
“Oh, I’m sure you took it,” I said, and I knew exactly how. I couldn’t throw stones. I’d murdered for my magic, too.
“How did you end up on Inyan Kara?” I asked.
“I was banished from the Dinetah, from the Glittering World, from the home I loved and the mountain where I was born. I had to go somewhere, and this place called to me.”
“I hear it’s magic, too. For the Sioux.”
“Magic is magic.”
Not really, but I decided to let that pass.
“Weren’t the Sioux annoyed?” They certainly hadn’t taken kindly to the whites wandering all over these hills.
“A bit. But they had bigger problems than a trespassing Navajo. By the time they were free to deal with me, I was as much a part of the legend of Inyan Kara as they were.”
“How many years have you been a coyote?”
“More years than I was ever a man.”
“Ruthie said you couldn’t leave Inyan Kara.”
“Ruthie is often right.” He tilted his nose into a bright beam of sunlight that reached through the trees, then huffed. “It doesn’t matter.” He shook his coat, giving the impression of a deep shiver. “Coyotes are skittish, and I’ve been one so long people make me nervous.”
“What about me?”
His eyes, so dark a brown they nearly blended into his silky black fur, met mine. “We both know you aren’t a person.”
“No? What am I?”
“I would guess, since Ruthie has spoken to you, that you are the present leader of the light, and considering that tattoo on your neck, I’d say you are also a skinwalker.”
As well as a dhampir, a vampire, a psychic, and a phoenix, but I figured he knew enough, so I shrugged. “How is it that you can talk?”
Question with a question worked both ways.
“Sawyer cast a spell, placed a curse.”
“He made you a talking coyote? Why?”
“I was an outcast. I was never to fit in anywhere, with anyone or anything. I could not become human without my soul, but I wasn’t a coyote, either. Not if I could talk.”
Wow. Some curse.
“What did you do?” I asked.
“I trusted. I taught Sawyer all that I knew, and he used that knowledge against me.”
There had to be more to it than that. But what if there wasn’t? What if Sawyer had learned all he could from the Old One then taken his home and his soul and banished him to Inyan Kara just because he could? Sawyer had done a lot of things that were borderline. His right-and-wrong radar was not exactly spot-on. I blamed his mother.
On the other hand—
“Who did you kill?” I whispered.
Sani lifted his lip and showed me his teeth again. “We do not ask such things.”
“Maybe you don’t.”
“Ask what you like. I will not answer.”
I decided it didn’t matter what Sani had done or even who he’d killed. I still had to do what I’d come here to do—raise Sawyer, get answers to my questions, then deal with the results. I could worry about the truth later. Or, since Sawyer was dead, not at all.
“I told him one day he’d need my help,” Sani murmured. “And the only way he’d get it would be to give me back myself.”
I held up the fetish again. “This is payment.”
“Now you need only tell me for what.”
“I want you to raise Sawyer’s ghost.”
“You can raise him yourself. All you must do is kill someone you love.”
“Already did.”
His eyes became shrewd. “Ruthie or Sawyer?”
Before I could point out that we didn’t ask such things, my mouth got the better of me and I snapped, “I’d never hurt Ruthie.”
The coyote’s mouth opened, a grin of sorts. “I’m beginning to like you for something other than your very nice breasts. Tell me more.”
“No,” I said shortly. One thing I would not discuss was Sawyer and how I’d killed him.
Sani emitted a disappointed sigh. “If you sacrificed someone you love, you’re a sorcerer and a shape-shifter, a true skinwalker. You can raise a ghost.”
“I tried. Couldn’t do it.”
“Odd,” Sani murmured.
“I’ve never raised anyone by myself before. I thought you could watch. Tell me if I’m doing something wrong.”
Sani cast me a quick glance. “You know that sometimes a boost of power is needed.”
I flinched. “Yes.”
“You’re willing to do whatever’s necessary to speak with him?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“You do love him.”
“If I didn’t I wouldn’t be what I am.”
“All right.” The coyote headed for the trees. “Come along.”
We climbed to the top of Inyan Kara. I was tempted several times to shift into a phoenix and meet him there, but it hardly seemed fair to let the old man-coyote clamber up alone.
At the apex lay a plateau. Rocky here, with dry brittle grass there, the only thing beautiful about the place was the view.
Devil’s Tower and Bear Butte loomed nearby, and the plains seemed to stretch on forever—brilliant green and dusty gold giving way to neon blue dotted with white. I was mesmerized.
“Do you have something that belonged to him?” Sani asked.
“Damn.”
“I thought you’d done this before.”
“I have.” Last time I’d used Sawyer’s toothbrush. When the spell didn’t work, I think I might have tossed it into the desert.
“Didn’t he ever give you anything, girl? Or was your love completely one-sided?”
More than likely it had been. Sawyer didn’t love. Not anymore. But he had given me something.
I lifted the turquoise from my neck. Then I laid the stone on the ground and drew a circle around it. Sani nodded his approval. “You never know where the dead have been, what they’ve done, who they’ve seen, or what they might have been offered.”
The circle would contain them. We couldn’t raise ghosts and let them wander through the earth like Jacob Marley.
“Now bring the storm,” Sani ordered.
“What if I need help? What if I don’t have enough power to do this alone?”
“I’ll help.” Desire flickered in his eyes.
I clenched my hands and forced myself not to run. Sex boosted my power, and if I needed more juice, Sani was eager to help. I didn’t like it, but I’d asked for it, and I couldn’t complain. I’d known that there’d come a day I’d have to do someone I did not want to do. Apparently that day was today.
Power surged through me along with frustration. I hated being forced to do anything. Fury sparked, and I went with it, throwing my hand toward the sky. The single bright white cloud opened and poured down rain. As the rain fell, the cloud turned from white, to gray, to black.
“Use both hands,” Sani ordered.
I shot the other up to match the first, and the wind whirled in, kicking around dust and dry grass, tugging clouds over the distant horizon and drawing them toward us at high speed. The sun became shadowed, and the mountain beneath our feet stirred.
“Thunder!” the Old One cried, and the earth shook.
I was soaked to the skin, my hair plastered to my head; Sani’s fur dripped. Within t
he circle, mud welled over my turquoise necklace, bubbling as if the rain were hot as lava.
Sani curled around my legs, rubbing his wet, musty coat against my pants; his muzzle nuzzled my thighs. I fought a shudder of disgust.
“Now the lightning,” he whispered, his breath so hot against my crotch I thought steam might rise from my wet jeans.
I reached for the lightning, felt it crackle then die.
“Again,” Sani shouted.
I closed my eyes, imagined the bolts tearing from the sky, slamming into the ground; the fire would blaze and then die, the smoke would create a curtain, and when it disappeared Sawyer would be here.
I inched my fingers higher, reaching with all the power I had for a single, solitary flare.
Zzztt!
The smell of spent fireworks fell with the rain but no lightning came. I lowered my arms, opened my eyes, and admitted the truth. “I can’t.”
Sani growled and sank his teeth into my hand.
Pain erupted, so deep I fell to my knees. “What. The. Fuck?”
The coyote’s snout appeared in front of me, and he breathed in deeply, as if trying to catch a whiff of . . . my pain? Then he licked my wet face and cocked his head. “No tears?”
“I never . . . cry,” I managed. Except when Sawyer died. Fat lot of good that crying had done me. I’d learned long ago that tears were a sign of weakness, and the weak did not survive.
My uninjured hand crept toward the silver knife at my belt. Sani latched on to it before my fingers got anywhere near.
“Dammit!” The wounds would heal quickly. But they still hurt enough to make me gasp, even when he released me.
“My power, little girl, lies in pain.” His breath cascaded over my face; I caught the scent of my own blood and my demon howled. “You want to bring that lightning, give me some agony.”
I gritted my teeth. “No.”
“You said you’d do whatever was necessary.”
“I thought you meant sex.”
He laughed. “You’d rather have sex than cry?”
“Who wouldn’t?”
His laughter died. “I’m not Sawyer.”
Sawyer got a power boost from sex—like me. That had seemed kind of sick. Until I met this guy.
His power lay in pain, which might be the reason, or at least one of them, that Sawyer had banished him. The old coyote was lucky Sawyer hadn’t killed him. Of course, if he had, I’d be shit out of luck right now. How many true skinwalkers were trolling this earth? I didn’t think very many.
“Fine,” I muttered, and screamed as if the pain in my hands wasn’t fading by the second.
“Very good,” he whispered, his voice breathless. He was enjoying this far too much. “Now try for that lightning again.”
I stretched for the sky with one hand; Sani chewed on the other. I shrieked, and the lightning burst from the still-streaming clouds, slamming into the ground so close to us my scalp tingled.
The mountain trembled. Ozone sizzled. Smoke billowed from the black mark in the earth, and when it cleared—
The turquoise still lay alone in the circle.
CHAPTER 21
Sani released my hand, and before I could stop myself I twitched my wrist. The coyote flew several feet and smacked into a tree.
“Whoops,” I said.
He got to his feet and shook his head, stumbling sideways a bit. “Don’t do that again.”
“I thought you liked pain.”
“Not my own.”
The rain stopped; the clouds blew away on a heated wind. The thunder moved off to the east with the remnants of the lightning.
“Where the hell’s Sawyer?” I demanded.
The coyote crossed to the turquoise, albeit a little unsteadily. “That should have worked.”
“It didn’t.”
He lifted his head. “You’re sure he’s dead?”
“Yes.” I frowned.
And no.
“You don’t sound sure.” His dark eyes narrowed. “What happened?”
“He disappeared.”
“Into thin air?”
“Maybe.” I hadn’t actually seen him go poof.
Sani cursed, using words I didn’t know. “He’s alive.”
My heart leaped at the words, even though I knew they weren’t true. “He can’t be.”
“Why not?”
I clapped my hands and thunder answered, flicked my hand and a nearby tree toppled over with a resounding crack. “That’s why not.”
“Of course,” he murmured. “You gained your magic through his death. If he weren’t truly dead, you wouldn’t have it.”
He sounded relieved. I wondered what Sani had done to Sawyer while he’d been teaching him. If that, perhaps, as well as Sani’s command of black magic, was why Sawyer had cursed him.
“If he were in the afterworld,” Sani continued, “the land to the north and beneath the earth, he would be compelled to stand in the circle and answer the questions of the one who raised him.”
“But he wasn’t, so what does that mean?”
The coyote collapsed onto the ground with a huff then laid his chin on his paws. I scooped up the turquoise and flipped the chain over my head.
Sani raised his snout. “Have you dreamed of him?” I started. “You have!”
“So? I loved him. I killed him. You think I wouldn’t dream of him?”
“What kind of dreams?” I looked away, but not before Sani saw the truth. “Sex dreams.”
I shrugged. “It’s Sawyer.”
“That’s how he’s doing it.” The coyote was on his feet, hair bristling.
“Doing what?”
“Skinwalkers possess an affinity for ghosts. Some say they have sex with the dead.”
I’d heard that before. I hadn’t liked it any better then.
“What do you say?” I asked.
“That at least one skinwalker has been having sex with the dead.”
My stomach rolled. He meant me.
“Sawyer’s power lies in sex,” he said. “To enhance his magic in the past, I’d guess you’ve helped him.”
Since that went without saying, I didn’t say.
“He’s enhanced that magic now by invading your dreams.”
“He’s dead. How can he enhance anything?”
“How many times has he come to you?”
“Three.” That I remembered.
“Has he become more real each time?”
I thought of the first visit, when I hadn’t seen him at all, only felt him, then last night when he’d been there enough to leave me a turquoise coyote.
“Yes.”
“Have you begun to see him even when you aren’t dreaming?”
To begin with, I’d only sensed him, then I could have sworn his fur brushed my legs. Later I’d touched him and then I’d caught a glimpse of him standing on my bed, caressed the warmth left behind by a body that could not be there.
“Yes,” I said.
Sani nodded. “He’s between worlds.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Only the most powerful of sorcerers could manage this much, and then only because the two of you have a connection that stretches the boundaries of earth and beyond. But he’s going to need more assistance to take that final step.”
“Assistance,” I repeated. “As in more dream sex?”
“Can’t hurt.”
Except it did. Every time I dreamed of touching Sawyer in the night, then woke up alone in the morning, it hurt. A lot.
“If I do that”—or him—“eventually I’ll bring Sawyer forth?”
“You’re going to need help.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“More than I can give.”
“But—”
“Sawyer’s stuck between worlds,” he repeated. “If he could come to you he would have.” Sani gestured at the fading circle in the dirt.
“Who can help?”
The coyote’s mouth lolled
open. “First, payment must be made.”
I glanced at him sharply. “What kind?” In my world, payment was seldom in currency I wanted to give.
“Sawyer left you that fetish for a reason, child.”
“Oh! Right.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the turquoise coyote. “Uh. Here.” I let the icon rest in my palm and extended my hand, fighting not to flinch when Sani trotted closer.
But he merely snuffled the stone into his mouth, leaving a slash of snot behind. I was such a mess already it hardly mattered. A second later, the sky filled with silver light, and a man stood before me.
Perhaps eighteen or twenty, with inky, dark hair long enough to brush the curve of his naked backside. His skin was bronze all over, his muscles long and lean from centuries of running through the trees on four paws. His face was unlined, stark bones beneath wide cheeks, his eyes as black as his hair.
“Why do they call you Old One?” I asked.
“Because I am.” I lifted a brow. “Skinwalkers don’t age.”
“Sawyer was a child once.” Or so he’d said. I wasn’t quite sure I believed him.
“But he’s been a young man for centuries. Though we’re born like humans, we grow like magic. It is in our blood.”
I thought of Faith, and I knew he was right. “And then?”
“We stop aging when the magic becomes ours.”
So murder made us more than sorcerers. Murder made us forever young, too. I could see where some might consider this a pretty good trade. Some but not me. Unfortunately I hadn’t had any choice in the matter.
“Are you going to leave the mountain now?” I asked, concerned that I’d just unleashed a very bad guy into the world, although, again, I hadn’t had much choice.
Sani stared at the turquoise wolf between his fingers, then smiled and lifted his face to the sun. He yipped, just like a coyote, and moments later a gray female appeared in the shadow of the trees. Her doey brown gaze focused on Sani, but she didn’t appear afraid.
He crossed to a large flat rock, dug a hole, laid the turquoise within and then covered it up. Passing his hand over the obviously disturbed dirt, he muttered a few words in Navajo, and the earth smoothed out as grass sprouted like springtime. There was so much I didn’t know about what I was.
“No,” Sani said.
It took me a second to remember what I’d asked. “You’re staying?”
Chaos Bites Page 15
