Ansel folded his arms over his chest, as though protecting himself from me and my rage. “Laura and I knew that Young wanted the pot for another client. We dug around until we found out who. Young has acquired things for Pericles McKinnon in the past, and the more I learned about Pericles, the more worried I became. I decided it was important that Pericles didn’t get his hands on this pot, and Laura agreed. So we decided to give Young a replica.”
“Who made it?” Mick asked. “Who could you trust for that?”
“Laura did.” Ansel’s voice took on a note of pride. “She’s an excellent forger.”
“Except that you can’t fake magical properties,” I said. “Any magical being knows instantly that your copy is a fake.”
“Yes, but Young didn’t know, and that was the point. He never saw the real pot—we sent him photos from Flagstaff—and we delivered the replica to him. He couldn’t tell the difference. We figured that by the time Young handed the pot over to Pericles and they found out it was a fake, the real one would be long gone, out of Pericles’s reach. Or it was supposed to be.” Ansel glanced at the hole again. “Laura said she’d hide it, in a place even the gods couldn’t find it.”
“We found it,” I said. “Without much to go on.”
“No, you found where she started to hide it,” Ansel said. “Obviously, Laura decided to find a better place.” He scanned the moonlit world around us, letting out his breath in a conjured sigh. “Or the dragons got it from her. I wish I knew where she was.”
Mick rumbled, “If Laura is all right, wouldn’t she try to contact you?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I think the dragons must have her. Or maybe she believes it better if she lies low. I’m dangerous, after all.”
Standing with his hands in his pockets, his expression sad, Ansel looked about as dangerous as an unhappy puppy. But then, I’ve seen puppies rip things to shreds in the blink of an eye.
Drake and Colby had claimed they didn’t know where Laura was. Ansel claimed not to remember what had happened the night she disappeared. Paige wanted to convince us with the faked séance that Laura was dead, and I think she believed it, which meant she didn’t know where Laura was either.
Either Laura was perfectly fine and in hiding, or someone like Pericles had found her, or she truly was dead.
Where would someone like Laura think herself safe? Not with her sister, obviously, but I wanted to talk to Paige. She could give me a better sense of Laura, where she might go if she was in trouble. Paige hadn’t responded to my message that Laura might be alive, and apparently slayers were still running around the county, searching for Ansel.
I looked around the dark night, the sky brilliant with stars. I wished I could stop the madness and lie on my back to stargaze with Mick, but it was not to be.
Mick had gone back to the hole again and crouched down next to it, talking to Ansel over his shoulder. “If Laura came up here after she left the restaurant in Gallup with you, what happened to you? She couldn’t dig out this hole with such care with you in a blood frenzy.”
“I wish I could remember,” Ansel said.
“We could try to hypnotize him,” I said to Mick. “Have him take us through that night in his memory.”
“Not sure that would work with a Nightwalker,” Mick said. “But I have an idea.” He cast Ansel a thoughtful glance, and his eyes changed from blue to dragon black.
“What are you thinking?” I asked. “I’m pretty sure I’m not going to like it.”
“Ansel doesn’t remember what he does in his blood frenzy when he’s calm and sated. But he might remember once he’s in a blood frenzy again.”
My heart squeezed. “I was right. I don’t like it.”
Ansel raised his hands. “Gods, Mick, you don’t want me to deliberately go Nightwalker. I’ve been doing it too much lately, and I don’t have a blood supply with me. I’ll attack you. I’ll drain you. I’ll kill you and Janet both.”
“Not if I’m a dragon, you won’t. I can easily crush a little Nightwalker who gets out of hand.” Mick opened and closed his broad fingers.
“But how will you bring me out of it again if you don’t let me drink? I can only calm down if I have blood.”
“We’ll take you home and pour bottled blood down your throat,” Mick said.
I thought Mick a little too certain this would work. When Ansel went into his frenzy and craved blood, the nearest blood-filled human would be me. Sure, Mick could stop him, but would Ansel have time to take a good bite out of me first?
But Mick’s smile was pure dragon, showing me the cool beast that lay behind the warm man I loved. His eyes glittered with that unstoppable curiosity, the determination that could move glaciers. When a dragon wants to do something, there’s not a being on earth that can slow him down—except another dragon, and then only maybe.
Ansel kept his hands up. “Can we try another way? I don’t like what I am when I become Nightwalker. I’m . . . cruel.”
“Not your fault,” I said. “You make up for it when you’re not the Nightwalker. You know, you’re a very strong person for being able to keep it at bay almost all the time.”
I had no idea if that were true, but Ansel looked slightly appeased. “If you truly think I can tell you something useful . . .” He spread his hands. “But the minute I go insane with the blood need, please kill me. Please. I can’t face the thought of waking up and seeing what I’ve done to my dearest friends.”
Dearest friends. The guy really knew how to go for the heartstrings.
“Trust me, Ansel,” I said. “I’ll make very sure you don’t kill us.”
Mick rose to his feet, brushing the dust from his jeans, eager to start.
He and I coordinated what we’d do. We left the wash, walking another mile or so to put more distance between us and the Chaco campsites and ruins. We didn’t want to be too close to other humans when all this went down. Ansel and Mick moved rapidly, me jogging to keep up with them as we made our way down a little-used dirt road, into the heart of nothing.
At least, many people would call it nothing. I called it the real world, where no buildings, paved roads, or fences marred the natural beauty of the landscape—just miles upon miles of unbroken land. I knew that eventually we’d come to another highway, a pueblo, a town, a city. But here in the heart of Indian country, the land was vast.
When we reached a point where Mick thought we’d be safe, he told me to stay with Ansel while he walked off from us into the darkness.
I heard a rush and a roar, then the downdraft of Mick’s wings engulfed Ansel and me like a hot summer wind. He skimmed by us, silent as darkness, then he soared straight upward, a giant dragon shape black against the stars. I craned my head to watch him as he wheeled back and forth for the pure joy of it.
Mick loved being a dragon. Having to hide his true nature most of the time must be hell on him.
Mick swooped by again. I was so engrossed in watching him that I didn’t notice until too late that Ansel had sidled away from me. By the time I spotted him, he was sprinting off into the darkness.
“Ansel!”
He didn’t respond. I guess he’d decided at the last minute not to participate in our little experiment.
No one could outrun a Nightwalker. I started after him, but I knew there’d be no way I could catch him.
Correction—no one could outrun a Nightwalker but a dragon. Mick swept downward, plucked the fleeing Ansel up out of the desert, and flew back to me.
By the time Mick deposited Ansel at my feet, Ansel’s Nightwalker had taken over.
“Delivering me straight to a snack?” Ansel said. “I take it back, Mick, old friend. I like this scheme.” His voice had become smooth, charming, entirely unlike the soft-spoken Ansel who’d introduced me to Kind Hearts and Coronets.
Ansel took a step toward me, and Mick’s large front foot landed in front of him. Ansel laughed, but Mick remained crouching next to us, a giant mass of watchfulness.
&nbs
p; “So,” I said to Ansel. “Tell us about the night you met Laura in Gallup.”
“That night. Ah, that night.” Ansel smiled at me, showing his elongated teeth. Nightwalkers didn’t have sexy little fangs like they did in fiction—Ansel had the mouth of a monster. “It was a special night. Mmm. Laura and I had sex for the first time.”
Wind blew across the desert, bringing some coolness but also dust. I coughed. “Are you sure? I didn’t know Nightwalkers could . . .”
“I assure you, love, we’re fully functional. If your pet dragon wasn’t here, I’d show you.”
“No, please don’t.” I waved my hand at his Nightwalker body. “Tell me you went to her as Ansel, not . . .”
“Ah yes, Ansel. Poor, timid chap, finally got his leg over. He’s in love. Can’t imagine what got into the fellow. Oh, yes, I do. That bloody pot.”
“With its magical properties.”
“Roused old Ansel out of his antiquities and stamp-collecting mania. I never thought anything could do that. But Laura smiled that cute little smile at him, and he was gone.”
“Then what happened?”
“What happened was, I thrust my little man into her sweet, tight—”
“I meant after that. Shit, Ansel.”
“After being at it like rabbits for two hours and more, we went out to dinner, and discussed what we should do with the pot. The whole time the magic of it was hammering at me, waking up my blood need. I wanted to eat everyone in the restaurant. The wimpy me told Laura we’d better get out of there, so we went out to Chaco Canyon so Laura could hide the pot. Somewhere between here and there, I managed to bury the part of me that’s Ansel and become what I truly am. Then the dragon came.”
“Colby.” I fit the pieces together. “Drake sent Colby out to snatch the pot from Laura, and she ran off while you fought him.” Something still wasn’t right. “But when I saw the auras, I saw Laura struggling with a Nightwalker, sensed that she’d been abducted. I now know that Colby didn’t snatch her. So it must have been you.”
“No, I was fighting that fucking dragon. I knew I wasn’t going to win that fight, but I slowed him down enough to give her time to get away. The Nightwalker you sensed trying to grab her must have been the other Nightwalker.”
Mick came alert, shoving his face closer to us. I saw in his eyes the same amazement and rage I felt.
“What other Nightwalker?” I shouted.
Chapter Nineteen
Ansel looked annoyed. “The one chasing Laura. I got him away from her before the dragon swooped in, and he ran off. He must have been the one who killed the slayer on the freeway, because I certainly didn’t. I wouldn’t be so hungry now if I had. I’d have drained him.”
Perfect. This was just effing perfect.
“Do you know the Nightwalker? Who is he?”
“I don’t know every Nightwalker in the universe. But I think this one is working for Laura’s sister.”
“Laura’s sister? The one sending slayers after you, because she says you killed Laura?”
Ansel’s grin widened. “Ironic, isn’t it? How do you think Paige knows about Nightwalkers? I got Laura’s blood on my clothes, because he’d cut her a bit when she tried to get away from him. When I fought him off, and Laura disappeared, the Nightwalker probably told Paige about me and assumed I’d killed or taken Laura. She sent the slayers after me, but to slayers, one dead Nightwalker is as good as any other. The slayer must have gone after that Nightwalker and got ripped open for his pains.”
Mick raised his dragon head and scanned the open desert. I was suddenly aware of all the empty space around us, and the shadows. “All this time I thought the only Nightwalker I had to worry about was you.”
Ansel spread his hands. “Sorry, sweetheart. I never remember what I do or who I meet in my blood frenzy. I wonder why Nightwalkers who can control the frenzy don’t remember? Maybe we think that if we remember the horrors, we’ll be so remorseful we’ll kill ourselves. Must be survival instinct.”
At the moment I didn’t care. “All right, so you fought off the Nightwalker, Colby let you go when Laura ran away, and you lost Laura. What did you do then?”
“Went after her. Poor little thing wasn’t going to last long on her own with dragons and Nightwalkers searching for her. Didn’t find her though. Sun was coming, and I went to ground. Literally. Had to hide out in a cave. The sleep finished the blood frenzy, and I woke up Ansel, baffled and bewildered as usual. He’s always been a twat.”
I didn’t know what a twat was, but I could guess. “I like Ansel,” I said.
“Of course you do. He’s weak, and you can control him. You’re fond of people you can control. Like him.” He jerked a thumb at Mick, whose neck cranked around as he scanned and sniffed the desert around us.
“I’m fond of people who aren’t trying to kill me every second.”
“Exactly.” Ansel’s eyes were red as he looked at me around Mick’s talon. “Speaking of that, I’m hungry. Give us a taste, sweetheart. I’ve told you this delicious information, so how about I have a little snack on you? From your groin, maybe? There’s a nice thick artery there.”
Ansel was fast. The words were barely out of his mouth before he was up and over Mick’s claw, mouth open to that terrifying animal maw, bone thin hands outstretched for my throat.
In the next second, Mick grabbed him, tore him off me, and slammed him on his back to the ground. Ansel’s head thumped against a small boulder protruding from the dirt, and he went limp.
“Thanks, Mick.” My words came out on my next exhale.
Mick backed away into the darkness, and with a crackle of bones and flesh became human. He walked to Ansel, crouched down, and flicked back one of Ansel’s eyelids. “He’ll be out for a while.”
I was still shaking, the fight-or-flight reaction of Ansel’s attack whirling inside me. My logical brain said that everything was okay; my primitive brain told me to run and keep going.
“We need to get him home. Blood . . .” I put my hands on my knees.
Mick touched me, and a tingle of healing magic trickled beneath my skin. “Thank you,” I said again.
I liked his fingers caressing my neck, but I straightened up and wiped the sweat from my face. “By the way, how did you get Ansel to go frenzied? He was fine when he ran off. You flew him back, and he was blood crazed.”
Mick chuckled. “Ansel’s afraid of heights. When we were a couple hundred feet up, I started to open my claw and scared the shit out of him.”
*** *** ***
We made it back to the hotel just as dawn began spreading its fingers to the east. Summer clouds streaked the sky, the sunrise staining the undersides a brilliant fuchsia.
Ansel had been out for the entire flight, and now Mick dressed again in the clothes I’d carried for him, took Ansel downstairs, and put him to bed. Ansel sank into his day sleep without regaining consciousness, which for now, was fine with me.
I had a million things to do and think about, but exhaustion from the long day and night caught up with me. I said good morning to Cassandra—or thought I did—then stumbled to my bedroom, spread my arms, and fell facedown across my bed. A pit of darkness opened up under me, and I didn’t fight sliding into it.
When I woke, I was alone—no Mick—disappointing. The best way to wake up was to find myself snuggled back into him. I always felt safe, warm, like nothing could ever harm me.
A side effect of the mate thing, maybe? I didn’t know. I enjoyed the illusion of safety whenever I lay with him, because it was the only feeling of safety I ever got. I’d take it, because I knew that as soon as we got out of bed every morning the danger would come. It always did.
My clock told me it was a little after eleven. If I were a normal person, I’d spend the day going over details of the hotel with Cassandra and Elena, talking to my dad and Gina about their wedding, and conferring with the contractors, and Fremont and Maya about how the saloon rebuilding was going.
Instead I grabbed
a giant muffin from the breakfast buffet in the lobby, climbed onto my bike, and rode into Magellan to Heather Hansen’s woo-woo store to ask her more about Paige. Heather looked up from helping tourists purchasing a map to the vortexes and waved to me.
“Hey, Janet. Ya-at-eeh. Janet is Navajo,” she explained to the interested ladies in hiking clothes. “She was here for our very successful séance the other night. We contacted the spirit of a woman’s sister. It was amazing. Wasn’t it, Janet?”
“Yes,” I said carefully. “It was pretty amazing.”
The women looked at me as though surprised I could speak English, but Heather’s enthusiasm impressed them.
While I waited for Heather to finish at the register, I became aware of another presence in the store. I walked quietly across the creaking floor to the book section, where I found Bear perusing a book on Hopi pottery.
“It is a ritual we have been performing for centuries,” Bear said without looking up from the book. “When we first met, I would not let him into my hogan until he proved his worth to me.”
I leaned my arm on the shelf next to a book called Tantric Rituals Throughout the Year. “A tough way to prove himself.”
“We are gods. It is not the same.” She closed the book, her bracelets clinking as she placed it back on the shelf. “Humans give each other gifts or exchange tokens. Gods show they are willing to sacrifice themselves, or what they love, for the other. When Coyote first tried to force his way into my life, he loved nothing better than himself.”
“And now?” I asked. The Coyote I knew cared for people—Julie, Mick, the residents of Magellan, and even me.
Bear smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “Now we enjoy the game.”
“Rough game.”
“Coyote is so difficult to hurt that he gets cocky. Our game reminds him how to be humble.”
“Humble? Coyote?”
Bear’s smile grew. “As I have heard young humans say, humble-ish.”
I shrugged. “You two do what you want. I’ll stay out of it.”
Nightwalker Page 18
