Nightwalker

by Rhonda L. Print

  Dual images of Ian stood over me, concern plain on his face, but he made no move to touch me. “I do not believe that you are quite well yet, Miss Wolfe.”

  “No shit.” Nausea rolled through me.

  “Shall I summon Captain Wilson, or perhaps, your Joaquín?”

  “He is not my damn Joaquín! Please, Ian, just help me up.”

  “Oh, so now I am Ian?” The corners of his lips started to curve into a smile. “Maybe you have suffered a concussion that you grace me by calling me by my first name.”

  He reached down and gathered me into his arms. I wasn’t heavy but he lifted me as easily as a father might lift his child. “Shall I set you on the bed?”

  “Not the bed again. I don’t want to wrestle with the sheets a second time.”

  He carried me to the chair by the fireplace, moved the pillows to the floor and lowered me gently into it. He took the throw blanket and set it across my lap. “I am sorry you found the sheets difficult.”

  “They’re too slippery. I prefer cotton.”

  “I will keep that in mind.”

  “I don’t plan on making a habit of knocking myself out and waking up in your bed.” I let the sarcasm flow freely.

  He tilted his head to the side as if considering what I’d said. “Still, I will keep it in mind.”

  “What did you mean when you said she was yours?”

  “Already with the questions? You are quite tenacious.” He seemed amused.

  I tooled my face to its neutral expression. “Thank you. Answer the question.”

  “There are many ways that a woman can be yours.”

  “Cut the cryptic shit. What did you mean?”

  He frowned. “She was under my care.”

  “She looked a little old to be a foster child.”

  He smiled half-heartedly. “You are correct. She is … was, not my foster child, still I was her guardian. I failed to protect her.”

  Now we were getting somewhere. “Protect her from who, what?”

  “Perhaps you should ask your Joaquín.”

  “He is not my Joaquín.” What the hell did they tell this guy while I was out? “I don’t want to ask him, I am asking you. How did you know Zarendia?”

  His face registered shock, eyes wide, eyebrows raised, mouth slightly open, then blank, nothing of an expression left to reveal any emotion. If I’d blinked I probably would have missed it.

  “I did not tell you her name.” His face was calm, expressionless.

  I blinked at him. He didn’t. Did he? She did. How did I explain that?

  “Shit.” I decided to go for a diversion. “You didn’t answer my question,” I countered.

  “There are people who come to me to seek sanctuary. She was among them. She took an oath to me and in turn, I offered my protection. She has been in this territory for only two months. She came from the East Coast.”

  “How did you know her name? I would have known if she’d left this area,” he added.

  “Does she have any family?”

  “We are her only family.”

  “Who are we?”

  “There are others that live in this dominion,” he answered.

  I rolled my shoulders to ease the tension and prevent the nausea from getting out of control. “Again with the cryptic answers, Ian. Please. I want to stop this from happening again. Two women in two days have met a gruesome death. I’d prefer not to make it three.”

  He moved to stand behind me. “I am not the only one being cryptic.”

  He began kneading the tension from my shoulders. “You are tense. Allow me to ease your suffering and I will answer your questions as honestly as I can.”

  I involuntarily let out a small moan and let my head roll back into his hands. Warmth spilled into my neck and shoulders where he massaged. The nausea subsided. I opened myself to his aura. A peacefulness I hadn’t known before flowed through me like warmed blood in my veins. My head was usually filled with the sounds of surrounding emotions, static, like water hitting the shore of a beach. I could block it out but it was never really gone. Sitting in this dimly lit room, it was gone. No noise, no static. I sank into it. Everything was silent and tranquil. I could not ever remember a single moment in my life this serene.

  That is how Joaquín found me. Sitting in a chair with my head leaned back and resting on Ian, eyes closed with his hands massaging my neck and shoulders. My expression must have been completely blissful because Joaquín’s voice boomed with anger. “What the hell are you doing to her!”

  I jumped and my eyes flew open. Ian didn’t move. I thought about getting up, but fuck it, we were not engaged anymore. Hell, we were not even dating.

  “What I do and with whom is no longer any of your damn business.” I intentionally closed my eyes and leaned back into Ian. I wasn’t trying to make Joaquín jealous. I just wanted to stab the point home that he had no say in my life anymore. I let my head lay back against Ian, my face tilted up toward his.

  Ian bent and placed a whisper of a kiss on my forehead. It sent ripples of pleasure through me. He was obviously willing to play the game I’d started with Joaquín but that didn’t explain my body’s reaction to him. I swallowed down my guilt and looked at Joaquín.

  “Do you even know him?” His face was now flushed red with anger.

  “Just met him tonight. Jesus, it’s not like we’re rolling around naked in the bed. It’s a massage, Joaquín, clothes on and everything.”

  I smiled up at Ian. “You have very good hands.”

  “Thank you.” Ian smiled back, a small quirk that let me know he was enjoying Joaquín’s frustration.

  Okay, maybe I wanted to make Joaquín a little jealous. I knew we couldn’t be a couple anymore. He wanted me to be something that I just wasn’t designed to be and maybe that made me a little vindictive. So sue me.

  Joaquín crossed his arms over his chest and spoke through his teeth. “Wilson wanted me to let you know that he’ll be ready to go in about ten minutes. I came to check on you but I guess you don’t need me.” He turned and walked away indignantly.

  “No, I don’t need you. Not anymore,” I professed under my breath.

  He’d cheated on me. He’d lied to me. He couldn’t accept me for who I was.

  Still, I felt bad. Damn. I just couldn’t bear to see the pain in his face, his eyes still sullen. “Joaquín?” I called out.

  He stepped back through the door. “Yeah,” he growled, his eyes still narrowed.

  “Thanks for checking on me,” I muttered softly.

  He walked over to me. Ian removed his hands from my shoulders as Joaquín bent down to give me a kiss on the cheek.

  “Anytime.” He turned and left the room.

  “So, I have good hands do I?” A smug smile filled Ian’s face as he began to knead my shoulders again.

  I stood, abruptly pulling away from his hands as they worked the tension out of me. “Don’t let it go to your head. You still didn’t answer my question.”

  “And I gave you my word that I would.” He nodded with a slight quirk of amusement sparkling in his eyes. “I am a man of honor but I do not think that I can answer your questions in the time we have left. It is nearly four in the morning. Rest, tend to your wounds, then come back to me this evening, for a drink perhaps, and I will freely answer your questions.”

  I smiled and shook my head. “Are you asking me out on a date?” I was surprised at the turn this conversation had taken.

  “You are most perceptive, Miss Wolfe. Or may I call you Leah?”

  “Leah, and yes, I will meet you tonight. Is seven o’clock okay?”

  “Seven is acceptable. The house is difficult to find and that will afford you the last bit of daylight. I have taken the liberty of setting this location in the GPS unit in your truck.” His expression remained neutral.

  “Now who is being tenacious?”

  He laughed. A loud, joyful sound that made me smile in spite of the situation.

  “How about som
eplace neutral?” I countered.

  “A casino then? Do you know where Dark Nights of the Desert is?” His smile remained in place.

  “Dark Nights then, seven o’clock.” I was satisfied that he’d picked a public location. While my hormones wouldn’t have minded a little one on one with him, common sense prevailed again.

  Damn.

  He escorted me out the French doors and across the desert landscape to Wilson, who informed me that Aaron would follow us in my truck. I started to protest but decided against it as my head began to swirl again. The serene quiet I had enjoyed in the house left when Ian did. The white noise was back.

  Coincidence?

  It would be one more question to ask Ian Nightwalker.

  I shifted in my seatbelt so I could lay the side of my head back against the headrest. The knot on my head was going to make sleeping uncomfortable for a couple of days. Wilson respected my need for quiet. I think he was hoping I’d fall asleep and not be such a pain in the ass today. I obliged and drifted into oblivion before we hit the paved road.

  * * * *

  Alli stood under the soft glow of the porch light. Her face was twisted with worry. She ran to the car as we pulled into the driveway and opened the passenger door. I undid my seatbelt and stepped out of the car. I had to grip the door to keep from losing my balance. She flashed an accusatory look at Wilson.

  “You know how she is. I would have had to tie her to the gurney to get her to the hospital,” he defended himself.

  “I’m fine, Alli, I just need to sleep.” My voice was still thick with sleep.

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” She led me to the front door and into my old bedroom. “At the very least, you are staying here tonight, maybe even a couple of days.” I sat on the edge of the bed. The nightstand was covered with medical supplies.

  “Get me a bowl of warm water and a couple of washcloths, Wilson,” she ordered. Wilson went down the hall without a word. I heard cabinets open and the water turn on.

  Alli stood over me, her hands gently moving my hair from around the painfully throbbing lump on my head. “You should probably have an MRI.”

  “Really, Alli, I’m fine. It’s just a bump on the head,” I protested.

  “When you get your doctorate, you can make that determination.” I winced when she hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Let me get this cleaned up,” Alli continued. “Then I’ll see what you need.”

  Wilson came in with the water and cloths. Alli placed a large towel over my shoulders and squeezed one of the cloths filled with water over the wound. The cool water felt good against my skin.

  “It doesn’t look like it’s going to require stitches. The bleeding has stopped,” she decided.

  Wilson smiled behind her. Relief was clear on his face. “She went out as soon as she hit the rock. She woke up once long enough to tell me not to call an ambulance; then she was out again until she came to in Ian’s house.”

  Oops. I didn’t remember that. In fact, I didn’t remember anything until I woke up in Ian’s room.

  “Did she throw up?” Alli asked Wilson.

  “No,” Wilson replied.

  “Are you dizzy, nauseated or seeing double?”

  “I’m only dizzy or nauseated when I move to quickly and I’m not seeing double. I’m really just tired, I want to sleep.”

  “Well, I think we can bypass the hospital but I want you to rest. You probably have a mild concussion. ” She walked to the dresser and pulled out one of my oversized T-shirts. “Do you need help getting changed?”

  “I can do it.” I was anxious to get out of these clothes and crawl under the covers. Wilson tucked my Glock, still holstered, under the pillow next to me.

  “When you first came to us, I tucked you into bed with a teddy bear.” Alli sighed and gently brushed my hair off my forehead. “Now, it’s a gun.”

  “Would you rather I keep it in the nightstand drawer?”

  “No, I know you feel more comfortable with the gun than you ever did with the teddy bear.”

  Alli and Wilson were walking out the door when I called, “Alli, Wilson?” They turned to me. “Thanks, for everything.”

  Alli came back and gave me a hug. “This is your home, Leah. You don’t have to thank us for that.” Wilson gave me a gentle kiss on the forehead. Then they left.

  I stripped out of my clothes and put on the oversized nightshirt. I checked the safety on the Glock and settled under the comforter. If the sun had already started to rise, I couldn’t tell with the light-blocking curtains drawn. Alli had put them in after I’d started working nights. She wanted my room to be prepared in case I came back home to sleep.

  I sighed. “My room.”

  This had been the first “my room” I’d ever had. They not only gave me a home, but a family who loved me unconditionally. I may never find anyone who loves me unconditionally.

  I thought Joaquín did.

  I was wrong. I had Alli and Wilson and I said a prayer of thanks every day for them. Admittedly, I came with a lot of baggage.

  I rearranged myself so that I wasn’t putting any pressure on the lump on my head and went to sleep.

  Chapter Six

  My head throbbed in time with my heartbeat. I needed some Motrin and a shower, in that order. The room filled with a soft orange glow of the day turning into evening. The house was quiet. Alli had left a note, my car keys and a bottle of ibuprofen on the bathroom counter. She also let me know she was working three to eleven shifts at the hospital and she would see me when she got home. It was her indirect way of letting me know that she expected me to sleep here tonight. I turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature. Pain caused me to suck in my breath in a sharp gasp as the water hit the lump hidden under the blood-soaked wad of my hair. If the pain didn’t subside, I’d have to talk Alli into giving me stronger medication. The ibuprofen would have to do for now. I had too many questions and I wasn’t about to blow an opportunity to get the answers. Ian Nightwalker had invited me to meet him at seven. As it was, that only gave me an hour to get dressed and drive to the casino. I stepped out of the shower and went to the closet. I kept some clothes here in case Wilson and Alli talked me into staying overnight. If it were up to them, I’d still have lived at home but there was more than audible peacefulness further away from the city.

  My body reacts adversely to negative energy. Among my other abilities, I am an empath. I can physically feel the emotions of people around me, their aura, for lack of a better description. It usually gives me a fucking amazing headache. I’m sure my ability to communicate with the souls of the dead is related to my power of empathy. I am gaining better control of it, although it is part of the white noise of my life. It is always there, never silent.

  I chose a pair of black jeans, a white tank top and a red silk shirt. The silk shirt billowed enough to hide the Glock nestled in its shoulder holster. I had already checked to make sure it was still loaded. A gun doesn’t do any good without bullets. Oh sure, if you get close enough to hit the enemy with it, it’ll hurt like hell, but I’d still rather have the bullets. I didn’t know if I was going to get past security with the gun—independent businesses have the right to refuse you entrance if you’re armed—but unless they had a metal detector, they didn’t usually make it a habit to frisk the tourists. I left my hair long but stuffed a ponytail in the pocket of my jeans. I had a choice of the low, black heels I’d worn the night before or the hiking boots I kept in the truck. The heels were a little strappy for jeans, but what the hell, it was better than tromping around in hiking boots all night.

  I drove to Dark Nights of the Desert Casino and parked the truck. If the parking lot was any indication, it was a busy night. Snowbirds—people who live here only in the winter when it gets too cold in most of the rest of the country—are well settled by this late in October. This was the busy time of year in the Phoenix area. Not many tourists wanted to brave Arizona in the heat of July or August. I didn’t blame them.

  I w
atched as darkness drifted up the mountainside with the setting sun while I crossed the parking lot toward the main entrance. A noise behind me made me whirl toward it, my hand reaching toward my holster. Zarendia, in near-solid form, stood at the edge of the parking lot. I opened my mouth to say something when she held up her hands to silence me. I closed my mouth.

  “You were to stay with the nightwalker,” she mocked.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m on my way to see him now.” I hated being mocked.

  “It is too late this time. You must heed my warning.”

  A low, menacing growl filled the air. A huge wolf with eyes as black as midnight materialized a few feet from her. Her mocking grin turned to blatant fear.

  I drew my gun. “Zarendia, what the hell is that?”

  “You must stay with the nightwalker before all is lost.” Her voice trembled. “Nightwalker will protect you.”

  “Zarendia…” I called out.

  The wolf faded a little and lunged for her. Another spirit. Fuck! I couldn’t shoot a ghost. Zarendia spared me one last warning glance; then disappeared before it reached her, the great wolf leaping through the air where she once stood, floated, or whatever the hell it is that spirits do.

  Thankfully, my back was to the rest of the parking lot and no one seemed to notice that I’d had a gun pulled out on the empty edge of the parking lot. I holstered the Glock, straightened my shirt and turned back toward the casino. I was really getting tired of these mysterious messages. Just once I would have liked to get a clear answer.

  Life-size statues lined the walkway, illuminated from the lighting set in the ground. A warrior in colorful feather headdress with an eagle on his shoulder, another with a large grey wolf standing beside him, an expression of mutual respect on their faces. One statue of a Native American wearing feathered wings with his arms outstretched as if in flight. The statue nearest the door was of a Native American woman sitting on a boulder by a stream making its through the landscape. Her long, shiny hair was adorned with a blue feather. Her dress was made of animal skin. The artist had captured the laughter in her eyes perfectly. She was distinctly a woman of beauty. If she were alive, she would turn the heads of saints and sinners alike. A wolf lay beside her, her hand resting on its fur that looked alive and flowing, in a tender gesture. The artist was truly gifted. Cacti were scattered throughout the landscape on either side of the walkway.