by Connie Hall
He turned his face away and motioned to the seat opposite him and said, “Sit.”
She didn’t seem to notice or care about his indifference and her expression remained a closed book as she sat. They knew each other too well.
She gazed directly at Kane in that forthright way of hers. “I’m glad you could meet me so early.”
He noticed the heavy exhaustion in her eyes and recalled her scent and said, “You been out all night?”
She nodded, rustling the few platinum wisps around her temples. “Tracking.”
He knew the extent of Arwan’s self-reliance. She had to be desperate before she asked for his help. His brows furrowed in worry as he asked, “That why I’m here?”
“Yes, but…” She hesitated, using caution in choosing her next words.
It wasn’t like Arwan to tiptoe around a subject. He’d known her all his life. She was the only seniph in the pride who didn’t fear him. After that one night that had changed his whole life, he’d made certain he kept his distance and was never alone with anyone, Arwan included. And there hadn’t been an incident since the first one. He had hoped he’d convinced her of that, but it seemed he’d never be rid of his hellish mistake or the monster within him who had made it. He didn’t blame anyone for being cautious, but he still thought Arwan had a good deal more mettle than most. Though here she was guarded and angst-ridden about telling him something.
“But…?” He encouraged her to finish her thought.
“I don’t know how to tell you this…” Arwan leaned back and sighed. She opened her mouth to say something, but Carrie approached their booth and set Kane’s steaming cream on the table, along with a tiny pitcher of coffee.
She shot Arwan a sympathetic look at having to share Kane’s booth, then said, “Hey, Arwan. What would you like?”
“Got a way to mainline caffeine?” Arwan forced a grin.
“Hard night?”
“Haven’t slept good for the past week. My oil furnace has bit the dust. The radiators knock all night. Crummy luck, huh, since it’s the coldest week of the winter.”
Kane heard the lie in Arwan’s voice, but Carrie seemed oblivious.
“Better get that thing fixed. Can’t have you falling asleep on the job.” Carrie noticed Kane’s eyes on her, and she quickly glanced down at the table and said, “I’ll brew up some strong coffee.”
“Thanks. And give me the breakfast special.”
“Right—cream, eggs, bacon and herring.” Carrie nodded, then disappeared behind the swinging kitchen door.
When Carrie was out of hearing range, Arwan lowered her voice to a soft whisper. “Look, I couldn’t say anything. You know how Carrie gossips, but we’ve got a gleaner in our territory.” Annoyance tightened her lips. “And the bastard is wily as hell. I lost his scent and went around in circles all night.”
They lapsed into silence, both frowning at the same time. Each knew what the other was thinking. Their unspoken words swung like a scythe between them.
Arwan’s eyes filled with worry, and she gave voice to their fear, “What if it’s Ethan?”
Kane flinched at the name. He waved a hand to stop her. “Don’t say any more.”
“But…”
“If it is my brother, the less you know the better. If you’re questioned by the council, then you can tell them you came to me for help in tracking the gleaner.”
“But I’d like to help you.”
“No. It’s better you don’t know what I find. I won’t have you forfeit your life because you’re involved.” Kane shifted uneasily, growing aware of the scars on his back. With vivid clarity, he recalled the punishment he’d received for letting Ethan go the first time. Seniph prides had remained hidden from humanity by observing the Book of Laws. He’d broken law number one: never suffer a gleaner to live. And he bore the physical evidence to prove it.
The council had warned him that if his brother ever returned and Kane didn’t kill Ethan, then not even Kane’s status as alpha could save him from the ultimate punishment: death. And Kane knew Arwan would endure the same fate if she was involved. No, he couldn’t let her become embroiled in this. Ethan had left miles of destruction in his path, but Arwan wasn’t going to be one of his casualties.
Arwan stared at her hands and looked miserable. “I hate this. You know, I love Ethan as much as you do. He was like a brother to me. You both were.”
“I know. But he’s a gleaner.” Kane’s expression darkened with resignation as he said, “Where did the attack occur?”
“The Baldoon farm. Found the animals fried and her body nothing but ash.” Arwan shook her head in sadness. “I liked that old lady. For a human, she wasn’t bad.”
“Yeah, she minded her own business and never wandered onto our land. She didn’t deserve to be murdered by a gleaner.” Ethan’s face materialized in Kane’s mind, and he hoped Ethan hadn’t returned home. But Kane wouldn’t put it past him. He asked, “Anyone cleaning up the site?”
“Jake and Clive are out there.” At the mention of the two inept deputies she’d been forced to hire, Arwan grimaced.
“Can you be assured of their silence?”
“I threatened to rip out their throats if they spoke to anyone.”
Kane knew Arwan had the strength to easily carry out the threat. When pushed, an alpha female could hold her own against most male seniphs—especially one trained in self-defense as Arwan was.
“Just make sure this—” she hesitated, not using Ethan’s name “—gleaner is taken care of quickly. We don’t want the press getting word of the murder. They’ll be screaming spontaneous combustion, and every tabloid reporter in the country will be here. I only have so many mind-easing drugs on hand before we’ll be forced to bring in the mind eaters.”
Kane grimaced at the mention of mind eaters, demons with the power to erase multitudes of thoughts. Their powers were rarely consistent. They sometimes erased too much memory, and humans ended up with mental disorders or, worse, strokes. And their fees were exorbitant. But if the memory drugs didn’t work, they were regularly employed to keep humans in the dark about the supernatural world.
“I’ll handle the gleaner,” Kane said.
“What will you do if it is Ethan?”
“What I have to.” Kane chugged the contents of his cup. The scalded cream tasted metallic and thick like blood as a vision of his brother loomed in his mind.
The channeled emotions avalanched through Nina’s temples. She struggled to hold the car on course and thought of the one person who could help her.
Okay, technically her spirit guide wasn’t a person but a magical being. But he was all hers and the only salvation she had at the moment. To summon him, all she had to do was think about him. Koda, are you there?
No answer.
Koda! If she had spoken the name aloud, she would have been yelling it.
No reply.
She made a face. Koda usually came to her rescue when the shivers became unbearable. Where are you?
Empty silence.
Okay, be stubborn.
Spirit guides tended to have minds of their own and eccentricities, just like humans. They could be annoying like some humans, too. Right now was a prime example.
They also couldn’t be relied upon with any frequency. That’s why when Nina began to exhibit her powers, her grandmother, Meikoda, had taught her a method of gaining control over the shivers herself, the Patomani Indian way, through meditation. Meikoda had always warned, “Trusting animal spirit guides can have dire consequences.” Now more than ever, Nina realized the wisdom of her grandmother’s advice.
An opening in the forest drew her gaze, and she spotted a narrow country road where she could pull off the parkway and deal with her headache.
She turned, her tires finding every pothole. The forest thickened into an evergreen wall on both sides of the road, thick boughs whipping and thrashing in the wind. Low-lying limbs thumped against her hood and roof. Hail pinged her windshield and so
unded like rattling teeth.
She switched the heater to defrost as she searched for a place to pull over, but the curvy road descended at a sharp angle. There were no pull-offs, just granite mountainside to her right and a sheer drop to her left.
Just as she doubted if she’d ever find a place to park, she reached an open valley filled with fields of grapevines. Their twisted frozen stalks looked like contorted arms grasping at whatever moved. Something about them caused the pain in her temples to settle in behind her eyes. Another ripple of emotions shook her. Her teeth chattered as her trembling grew uncontrollable.
Thankfully, she spotted lights. Humanity. A small village. Relief loosened her tensed muscles. If the Fates were on her side, she might even find a cup of hot chocolate to meditate over. All she needed was a little quiet time to mask those foreign emotions in her head.
She crept past a green sign that read: Brayville, population 102. She reached the sheriff’s office, a white frame building. Beside the sheriff’s office sat the courthouse, a Romanesque stone structure. The building belonged in a bygone English countryside rather than in a Virginia mountainside. Knob’s Grocery rested next to it. A boldfaced sign in the display window read: Fresh Meat Cut Daily.
She cringed. Man innocently believed that animals were not sentient and thus were unaware of pain, but Nina knew better. She had never been able to eat meat, not without being haunted by the emotional insight of the sacrificed animal. Her powers had sealed her dietary habits as a strict vegan.
The sidewalk appeared deserted, only a few lights shining from the tiny homes surrounding the village. Something about the place looked untouched, forbidding, frozen in a winter mountain spell. Another surge of shivers rippled, and her trembling became uncontrollable.
That’s when she noticed the glow from an open sign. The Wayside Café. A definite windfall. She drove half a block and parked behind a Jeep and a sheriff’s car.
She donned the gloves Mrs. Winston, a client in her pet-psychic business, had knitted for her. Dog faces flopped on the end of each finger and looked very much like Max, Mrs. Winston’s depressed Scotty. The gloves were pretty horrible. Fashion accessories a child would wear, but Nina could never refuse handmade gifts from clients, particularly if they were as nice as Jane Winston.
As soon as she put her hand on the latch to open the door, Koda’s telepathic thoughts dove directly into her psyche. Wait!
Now you show up.
I was in a meeting.
Koda’s habitual excuse when he didn’t want to be found.
I could have used your help back there.
You know the rules. I can’t interfere. I can only take you to the Quiet Place and offer advice.
Then you could have taken me to the Quiet Place. I’d have settled for that.
Can’t. Sorry. You’ve been using it too often. I’ve been warned.
Warned? It’s mine to use.
It is a gift, and you’ve abused it.
I don’t see that I’ve done anything so terrible. I needed the breaks. Being bombarded by constant emotions drains me. You know that. Truth was that at times Nina felt a hundred years old. In the Quiet Place, she escaped her responsibilities, avoided the shivers and cleared her head. What was so wrong with that?
I’ve been advised that you are using it as a crutch.
Well, excuse me. I thought I could use it at my discretion.
Not when it harms you.
I think I should know what is good for me and what is not—thank you very much.
You should, but you don’t. Case in point—you could be in danger right now. Take my advice and don’t go in the café.
But I’m freezing, and I’ve got a migraine coming on, and there’s hot stuff in there to drink.
Don’t go in.
Sorry, but there may not be another café within miles of here. I have to.
Suit yourself. This last was said in a snit, and his presence left her mind in a final whoosh.
“Go ahead, be that way,” Nina said aloud. It hurt her head to speak, and Max’s many faces blurred before her eyes.
She hesitated for one minute, staring at the inviting hot-coffee sign over the counter; then she held her throbbing temples and climbed out of the car.
Frosty air swirled through her jeans and up her coat. Pellets of hail stung her face. A gust tugged at the tight braid she had coiled into a bun at the back of her head. She felt some of the pins falling out, reached to grab them and missed. The thick black braid flopped down her spine, thumping against her. She ran to the door, snuggling her woolen coat closer around her neck.
Between fighting the weather and her headache, she wasn’t paying attention as she opened the cafe door. A man startled her. She stumbled backward.
His hands shot out with superhuman reflexes and caught her.
The moment he touched her, a shiver speared her, a presence not totally human or animal, but both. A shifter, or two-skin as her people called them. She sensed the inhuman creature caged within his flesh, raging to be set free, tearing at her mind. She panicked and broke his hold on her arm. A pair of harsh jungle-green eyes and a hulking solid-muscled body swept past her peripheral vision as she wheeled and fled.
“Are you okay?” His resounding baritone rumbled over the wind, the tones resonating from deep within his large chest.
“Yes—never mind.” She yelled over her shoulder,
running for the safety of her car. Koda had been right this time.
She jumped inside and locked the doors. She couldn’t start the engine fast enough; then she sped away.
Abruptly it occurred to her that the temporary interruption with the shape-shifter had diverted her thoughts from the shivers, and her headache had subsided. Though she felt as tightly strung as a guitar string about to break. She couldn’t forget the contact with the two-skin. His brutality and hostility had struck her with such force, she hadn’t been able to discover what type of shifter he was. Just the thought of him now made her quake.
He might be somehow involved with the horrible emotions that had led her to the area. She knew some two-skins lived in groups. Menacing creatures like him could fill this whole village. They might be harming innocents.
She prayed not. She never wanted to feel that beast in him again, much less a whole crowd of them. When she found the cause of the shivers, and if she discovered that he or anyone else in this village was responsible, she’d have to stop them. Unchecked shifters mustn’t be allowed to harm innocents.
She sped along the narrow road, into the teeth of the wind and freezing rain, the force trying to push her back toward Brayville. She floored it, and the shivers returned full-force, in all their swarming glory, guiding her toward the unknown.
Chapter 2
Kane watched the Taurus pass him as he waved to Arwan through the window of the café. Arwan was still eating, but Kane had lost his appetite after learning about the gleaner. Ethan may have returned. His brother had been foremost in his mind, until he’d bumped into the stranger.
After only a few seconds of gripping her forearms, an awareness still strummed through his veins. The contact roused his darker side. He’d worked years at marshaling those instincts and up until colliding into the human, he’d kept them under strict control. But her scent lingered in his senses. She smelled extraordinarily enticing, otherworldly, more than mere mortal. He’d stake his life on that.
And what about her reaction when they had touched? He’d felt her stiffen, seen those bright blue eyes widen in fear. Her face had paled in comprehension. Somehow she had sensed his supernatural aura. So what was she? Sorceress? Seer? Another shifter, the likes of which he’d never encountered before? Whatever she was, she had been snooping around here just when a gleaner had returned. Even if she had nothing to do with the gleaner, he had to protect the pride’s privacy. He couldn’t risk humans ever finding out that shifters existed. He had a nose for trouble, and that woman was trouble with a capital T.
He bounded into
his Jeep and stayed well behind the Taurus. He’d have to follow her and find out exactly what she knew. She was definitely a threat and took precedence over tracking the gleaner. The gleaner could wait. This new prey could not.
The shivers led Nina to a dark and dismal dirt road at the base of a mountain, not fifteen miles from Brayville. A plywood sign proclaimed Baldoon Farm, No Trespassing. The blue-painted letters had dripped and ran together in an eerie way. A Bates Motel sign, if she ever saw one.
This was the location, all right. Every fiber of her being quaked now. She felt her body temperature steadily dropping, and she’d kill for something hot to drink. She crept up the mountain drive, aware she wasn’t only freezing but fighting a rising case of the heebie-jeebies. The feeling that someone was watching gnawed at her. For the umpteenth time, she glanced at the rearview mirror.
Not a glimmer of a headlight. Nothing but sleet hitting the rear windshield, forming long rivulets of icy water that glowed blood red from her taillights.
She thought she’d seen someone following her when she’d left Brayville, but the headlights had disappeared about five miles back. Must be a case of nerves, she assured herself.
If she could only leave this place… But she couldn’t abandon the chorus of voices still crying out for help. Her conscience wouldn’t allow her to leave creatures in distress. Her path was set, and she had to follow it to the end.
Her headlights revealed only a heavily wooded forest. Trees swayed and bowed to the storm, the weaker ones looking ready to snap and topple. The higher the Taurus climbed, the stronger the shivers shook her. Emotions scraped etchings inside her mind now. She could even translate the fear into words.
“Help me. I’m afraid. No, no, no! Don’t hurt me, please!” And the monologue went on and on, mingling with terrified screams. It was a recording inside her head that wouldn’t stop. Their pain and fear became a part of her.
Nina gripped the wheel and began humming to drown out the noise marching through her head. Sometimes it helped. Her voice drew to a fevered pitch; then she gave up humming and switched to singing “Coming Out of the Dark” at the top of her lungs. Thank goodness for Gloria Estefan.
