The Watcher

by Jeanne C. Stein

  The hammering of my heart, the rush of my blood, the desire to attack something is so intense, I actually consider going back to find the witch. Foley is human. The witch is something else. Without Frey's well-being to consider, I could stop her from harming my friends again. Permanently. Killing her, drinking from her, would be exquisite revenge for what she did to Culebra, to Frey.

  The human Anna comes back slowly.

  When she—when I—return, I have to close my eyes, clear my head until the shaking stops. I've felt it before, the dichotomy. I've fought against it. But tonight, when the vampire took over, Anna was gone. Rational thought gave way to instinct, and human emotion to an animal's drive for self-preservation. If Foley had fought, I would have killed him. I would have killed Burke or any of her coven if I'd gone back. I've been fooling myself to think my humanity was stronger than the creature that shares my body.

  The guttural sound of an engine floats across the still night. A car approaching. The barrier must be down. Perhaps when Frey and I broke the circle, we broke the spell as well.

  I lay Frey down carefully behind the bar and crouch there, too, to wait. It might be the witch and Foley. If it is, I'll be ready.

  The car pulls to a stop right outside the saloon. Three doors slam, almost in unison. My mental probe detects nothing. Either three humans approach or these visitors have cloaked their own thoughts the same way I am cloaking mine.

  I creep to the end of the bar, hidden in shadow, and peek around.

  The doors swing open with a rustle of air.

  Anna ? Are you here ?

  I don't realize how tense I am until the sound of the familiar voice sends relief flooding through my body. I leap up.

  Williams crosses the floor in a blur of motion almost too fast to see. He grips my arms and looks down at me.

  His expression of concern is so intense, a ripple of fear replaces the relief. "What's wrong?"

  He lets go of my arms and steps back, color flooding his face. Embarrassment? I wonder why. Because he guessed wrong about the witch and where she would be tonight or because I accomplished what he and his Watchers could not?

  I let him read my thoughts, see the color deepen, feel chagrin replace discomfiture. But I don't push. Part of me is glad to see him. Part of me is furious with him. I let that come through, as well.

  For the first time, I see who arrived with Williams. Ortiz and another. Not a vamp. But not human.

  He steps forward. "Is Frey with you?"

  He opens his mind. Shape-shifter.

  Yes. And he's hurt. Can you help him?

  He motions for me to lead him to Frey. I do. He bends down and places one hand on each side of the arrow.

  I watch as he gently probes. He appears to be in his fifties, tall, broad shouldered, rangy muscle. His face is full of concern for Frey, his thoughts mirror that concern. Before I can ask what he intends to do, he has grasped the arrow and pulled it from Frey's body with one single, violent jerk of his hand.

  Frey's body spasms. I jump toward the shape-shifter, a growl of rage erupting from deep inside. Williams grabs me from behind and spins me around.

  Wait. Watch.

  He turns me back so can I see.

  I shake loose of his hands, still reeling from the surge of anger that would have had me at the shape-shifter's throat had Williams not stopped me. I take a step away from Williams. If I decide to attack again, I want to be out of his reach.

  The shape-shifter is bent over Frey. He has placed his hands over the wound. Frey is still squirming, making a sound in his throat that is half cry, half growl. But he breathes. I see it. The rise of each inhalation and fall of each exhalation. In less than a minute, his breathing becomes less labored, his body quiets, Frey's keening sound dies away.

  Only then does the shape-shifter lift his hands. They are red with Frey's blood. He falls back as if the healing has drained him. That's when I see it—a gash in his shirt and an open lesion corresponding to the wound in Frey's side. He closes his eyes and leans back against the bar. While I watch, the wound closes, the blood is absorbed back into his skin. The only indication that anything has happened at all is the rip in his shirt.

  I switch my gaze to Williams. Empath?

  He nods.

  Like Sorrel? Can she heal, too?

  Sorrel's gift is to heal the spirit. He gestures to the man now climbing slowly to his feet. Stephen's gift is to heal the body. Each is distinct unto itself.

  When I look again at Frey, he has shifted back into human form. He shakes his head as if awakening from a particularly vivid nightmare. There's confusion and alarm in his expression and a kind of breathless anticipation as rational thought creeps back.

  He struggles into a sitting position and looks around. Stephen says, How do you feel?

  Although I can't hear Frey's response, I can read the relief and gratitude on his face. He reaches out a hand and Stephen grasps it, pulling Frey to his feet. Only then does Frey turn to me.

  "You're all right?"

  I nod. I want to throw my arms around him and express just how relieved I am that he is all right. But I don't want to embarrass either of us and I don't know how he would react. After all, he did tell me that he has a girlfriend now and he is standing here naked. Who knows what kind of reaction a near death experience might have on him if I press myself against him?

  He's looking at me as if he reads my thoughts. He smiles and reaches down for that pair of jeans he'd left behind the bar. This time, though, he doesn't turn away or hide himself, just slips them on.

  When he's zipped up, he comes around to join us. "What happened to the witch?"

  The question is directed at me. I shake my head. "I don't know. I grabbed you and got out of there when the coven started getting restless."

  Williams releases a breath. "I don't understand why she came here. It doesn't make sense. The very reason we didn't have a sentry in Mexico was because every one of our sources said she planned to raise the demon in Arizona, outside Sedona, where she could tap into the power of the vortex."

  "Then what brought you here?" I ask.

  "Avatoar." Williams lifts a shoulder. "He came to find me in Arizona. Told me about the barrier. Said it was definitely constructed by a coven."

  "So you know Avatoar?"

  He brushes the question aside with an impatient wave of the hand. "Obviously. Why do you think the coven would construct a barrier aimed to keep you out?"

  "I don't think it was," I reply. "Not anymore. Burke knew that letting me know she had Culebra was the one sure way to get my attention. She wanted me here."

  Frey frowns. "What do you mean? We stopped the demon. She almost succeeded in raising it. She wanted you to do that?"

  "No. She wanted to raise the demon all right. She didn't think I could stop it. But you were hurt and didn't see what happened after."

  He motions for me to go on.

  I turn to Williams, anger flooding back. "There was another guest at Burke's party. Foley."

  Williams' shoulders tense, his eyes grow watchful, wary.

  You knew Martinez had Max. You said nothing yesterday. You sent me here.

  Williams is standing so still I can hear the beat of his heart, the stirring of the hair on the back of his neck as he absorbs the enormity of my fury.

  I don't know if I can forgive you for this.

  Frey senses the heat of what is passing between Williams and me even if he can't read the message. He looks from one of us to the other as if hoping by that simple act to break the tension. When he doesn't, he asks, "Foley was there, too? Why?"

  I look away from Williams.

  “They were both waiting for someone else to show up at midnight. They were waiting for me."

  "She's right."

  The voice comes from the doorway.

  Culebra is there, holding the woman from the cross in his arms. His face is battered with grief. "They wanted Anna," he whispers. "And because of me, this woman is dead and they almost
got her."

  Chapter 36

  Stephen rushes forward, his arms outstretched to take the woman from Culebra.

  But Culebra shakes his head and brushes past him. He lays the inert form on the bar. "It's too late for her." His words are harsh. "Something else I must accept responsibility for."

  "How did you get away?" I ask.

  Culebra raises his eyes, reluctantly, to meet mine. It seems to take a great deal of effort for him to wrest his mind from anything except the dead woman. "When you broke the circle, you broke the spell that bound me, as well. But it took some time for me to shake off the effects. The distraction you provided when you grabbed the panther gave me time to shape-shift and free myself. But it wasn't in time to save her." His voice drops. "Burke saw me. She got to her before I could change back and free her. Burke strangled her while I watched."

  I've never seen Culebra like this. For the first time, I see that the "woman" who had been hanging from the cross is really no more than a girl. Thin, pale, sixteen or seventeen years old. "Who is she?"

  He touches her hair gently. "A runaway. Burke picked her up on the street, promised her food and shelter. Instead, she became a sacrifice."

  His distress is so acute, it's painful to feel. I open my mind to offer him solace but he swats it away.

  I don't deserve your sympathy. All that has happened is because of my arrogance and conceit. I should have told you what the witch had planned instead of thinking I was strong enough to handle it on my own.

  Williams interjects himself into the conversation. You are right to blame yourself, shape-shifter. We could have stopped Burke if we had known.

  Williams' arrogance snaps my temper once again. How would Culebra have known you would accept help? You certainly didn't from me. In fact, you sent me away.

  That was for a reason. You do not consider the ramifications of what you do.

  Culebra emits a growl from deep in his throat. Let me guess. Did Anna think it more important to protect me than stop the demon?

  Williams doesn't answer. He doesn't have to. His mind snaps shut with an almost audible click.

  Culebra shakes his head. And yet Anna is the one who stopped the witch. She does what must be done. I would accept her help far more readily than I would trust my well-being to you, vampire.

  The air is charged with energy. I'm caught in the middle of a supernatural clash of the titans. There's an undercurrent between the two that I want to question. Something both explosive and dangerous. But right now, Max's well-being is more important. I hold up a hand to break the tension.

  We stopped the demon from rising, but Burke is still out there and so is Foley. Culebra, what happened after I left?

  His eyes are locked on Williams but after a moment, he drags them away. Foley left almost immediately. I don't think he understands what he witnessed. He was disoriented and angry. He blamed Burke for letting you get away.

  Whatever deal they struck is apparently void. I heard a car engine so I'm assuming he took off to find you. Maybe into Tijuana. Or maybe just back across the border.

  And Burke?

  She spent a little time with her followers, trying to calm them down. They knew nothing of Foley and were not pleased at the presence of an outsider. Burke offered no explanation. They demanded a sacrifice and to appease them, she took the girl. There was nothing I could do. Then they set fire to the altar and left. I just managed to get her body off the cross before the whole structure went up.

  He grows quiet. His mind sinking again into a deep hole of black despair.

  You did what you could, I tell him. Burke killed this girl, you did not.

  This time he allows himself to take a little consolation from my words. But he lets me see that it is only because he has reached the decision to avenge her death. Burke will pay with her own life for the taking of this innocent.

  I nod my understanding and pledge my help. She almost killed a friend of mine, too. This exchange occurs only between Culebra and myself. Williams is watching as if he knows we are sharing thoughts he is not privy to. His uneasiness shows.

  But first, there is Foley to deal with. I turn on Williams. "You didn't tell me that Martinez has Max."

  His eyes shift to Frey.

  I don't let him get distracted. "Did Foley say how Martinez found Max?"

  He shakes his head. "Only that Martinez set a trap and Max got caught in it."

  "Then there can be only one explanation. Money. Foley was trying to collect a bounty Martinez put on Max. Originally, he may have planned to kidnap me to draw Max out. If Martinez captured Max on his own, Foley would have no claim on the money. Martinez wanted Max because he thinks it's Max's fault his family was killed. I may be the revenge Martinez is seeking for the death of his own family."

  "But how would he know where to look for you tonight?"

  I shake my head. "I don't know. He thinks I'm human. Even after I turned, he didn't believe what he was seeing. And he thought the demon was sleight of hand, special effects to wow Burke's followers. How could he have connected me with that?"

  "Burke saw you here with me." Culebra replies. "That day you came to feed. I think the better question would be how Burke and Foley managed to get together. Unless she has a connection to Martinez that we know nothing about."

  Williams and Culebra both look to me for the answer. Trouble is, I don't know. Max has never mentioned magic in his dealings with Martinez. And it's not a subject I'd be likely to bring up. I shrug and let them know.

  Williams shifts restlessly from one foot to the other. "Well, I don't see that there is anything more we can do here tonight. I need to get back. Anna, do you want to come with us?"

  Before I answer, I look at Culebra. He nods that I should go, that he will be in touch soon.

  Still, I'm uneasy at the thought that Culebra might go after Burke on his own. Only when he assures me that he will not attempt it, do I agree to leave.

  Besides, he adds, there are many I sent away who need to be called back. I jeopardized their safety as well as my own. I have much to make up for.

  That Williams picks up on. We'd better go before your compadres start reappearing. His tone is mocking. I'm sure I'd recognize one or two. Probably on that same poster that features Burke back at my headquarters.

  Culebra's reply is equally curt. Probably.

  Frey decides to go back the way he came to Beso de la Muerte—in animal form. Stephen asks if Frey would like company.

  I have so few opportunities to run free, he says. There is no moon tonight. We can make it to town before daylight.

  Frey agrees and they shed their clothes, leaving them in a pile that I pick up and promise to deliver to Frey in a day or two. They make the transition with an almost gleeful abandon. Stephen's other form is wolf and the two waste no time, disappearing into the darkness beyond the saloon, the wolf's bay of farewell hanging on the air long after they are out of sight.

  For a moment, I envy their freedom.

  Williams motions to me that it is time to go. He says nothing to Culebra. Ortiz is just about to precede us out the door when he stops, head tilted.

  "A car," he says.

  I hear it, too, approaching fast. There is only one narrow road in and out of Beso de la Muerte. The tension level ratchets up a notch. It's a very good bet whoever or whatever is on its way in is not a friend. The unspoken consensus between us is that it's better to stay our ground and meet the stranger on familiar turf than try to beat him out of town.

  Williams and Ortiz take positions beside the bar, Culebra in front of it. I step near the door and off to the side, ready to fling myself at the intruder if necessary.

  With an intense single-mindedness, we listen as the car nears. It stops outside the saloon and a door opens. There is a pause, as if the driver is deciding on a course of action. Then footsteps echo on the wooden planks and the saloon door swings open.

  Foley steps inside. He is neither alarmed nor apparently surprised at seeing San Di
ego's chief of police standing in the middle of the ruins of a ghost town saloon. His gaze sweeps in a lazy arc to take us all in.

  When he spies me, he smiles. "Well," he says, turning back to Williams, "you do keep the strangest company."

  Foley's air of self-assured nonchalance takes some swallowing. I feel the hair stir on the back of my neck, a flush of rage sends adrenaline pumping. I want nothing more than to ravage that smile off his face. He acts as if he doesn't see the dead woman lying in front of him on the bar or the man beside her who hung on a cross over his head not an hour ago. Instead, he stares at Williams with the defiant posture of one who believes he is in control.

  Surprisingly, Williams lets him get away with it.

  Instead of attacking, Williams meets Foley's gaze with a frown. "What are you doing here, Agent Foley?" he asks, his tone reflecting only mild curiosity.

  Foley's smile never waivers. "I could ask you the same." He waves a hand. "But I will tell you. I came for Anna."

  "In an official capacity?"

  He shrugs. "If it needs to be. I came to ask for her help, but I can make it less pleasant if I have to."

  "You have no authority in Mexico, Agent Foley."

  "Neither have you."

  God. Another pissing contest. They're so busy marking their territories, they forget that the object of the conversation is standing right here. "Would you like to tell me what it is you want?"

  Both Foley and Williams turn abruptly in my direction.

  I deliberately step between them. "What do you want?"

  "It's not so much what I want," he replies. "It's what I can give you."

  I raise an eyebrow. "I can hardly wait to hear this. What can you give me, Foley?"

  "Max," he says. "I can give you Max."

  Chapter 37

  “You have max?" I shake my head at Foley. "Right. And you called Burke a drama queen?"

  He starts to open his jacket, but, as one, Culebra, Williams, Ortiz and I all take a menacing step toward him. His hand freezes. "Easy. I have something I want to show Anna, that's all."