“Dusk,” she gasped, and reached out for him. “The baby. We have to go get her.”
“Soon.” Hunter took her hand. “I want you to put hot food in your stomach first. And I have something I want to tell you before we prepare a rescue.”
She sniffed and was assaulted by the smell of meat. “What are you cooking?”
She’d spent a full year as a designer vegetarian once, back when that was considered hot. But she had never gotten over how her mouth watered when the smell of cooking meat permeated the air. It was divine.
He stood, grinning and holding out a hand to help her up. “Rabbit stew. Not exactly epicurean fare, but nutritious. And pretty good, if I do say so myself.”
She let him lead her closer to the fire pit. It was warmer here, nice…almost cozy. She rubbed her arms.
“The temperatures are starting to drop now that the sun’s gone down. Here, put on the jacket, then sit down. You can wash your hands before you eat.”
Nodding, she stuck out each arm and let him fit the jacket around her. “Do you have hot water and soap, too?”
Hunter laughed. “It’s not magic, I swear. The nearest spring is down in the desert beside the cabin. It would’ve been great to get enough water for a bath, but too dangerous to spend much time so close. How about you use this bottle of hand sanitizer instead?” He grinned and held out a squeeze bottle that looked exactly like one she carried in her own purse while traveling.
“I can’t believe you have anything so…so…”
“Civilized?” he supplied.
She ignored the comment and reveled in using the fresh-smelling sanitizer on her hands and face. She felt almost human again.
He dished up some stew, and she marveled at how clever he’d been about pots and utensils. Hollow rocks and smooth pieces of wood, roughly carved into plates. He handed her a metal expandable spoon and dug into the pot himself, using a wide, flat knife as a utensil.
“You’ve been busy this afternoon,” she joked after swallowing a couple of delicious bites. “This is great. I don’t recognize any of the flavors, but it’s all good.”
“It’s one of my aunt’s recipes for on the trail. She uses mutton in place of rabbit, but the rest of the ingredients are from things found near here. Glad you like it.”
A few swallows later Hunter set down the pot and sat back on his haunches. “Bailey,” he began in a serious tone. “There has been no sign of movement coming from the cabin. No lights or fires now that it’s dusk. No smoke or sounds all afternoon. It concerns me.”
She dropped her spoon. “What about Tara? What do you think has happened?”
“They have not left that cabin in any of the usual ways,” he told her. “I placed a thread of pine bark in the path in front of the door right after you fell asleep this morning. It’s still there. And most of the windows are nailed shut.”
Hunter grimaced and then studied her face in the firelight. “I’m going to tell you a story. It’ll sound fantastic and impossible, but I promise you that it’s true. Will you trust me not to lie to you?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” She spat out the words without thinking.
He scowled and she forced herself to slow down. “I trust you with my life, Hunter. If you say the moon is blue cheese, I will believe it.”
Giving a small nod, he began. “Well, keep an open mind. Do you remember your grandmother ever telling you the Skinwalkers’ legend when you were small?”
“The witches? Sure. It was thrilling. Scary. All hush-hush kid stuff. Why?”
“Let me tell you the legend again. My way this time.”
She nodded and waited, ready to believe almost anything. If perfectly civilized people could be kidnapped and dragged through the remote wilderness—and then saved by an old boyfriend who turned out to be superhuman, in a sexy survivalist’s disguise—then anything was possible.
“According to Dine legend, Sun married Turquoise Woman and had two sons, Monster Slayer and his twin, Child of Water. The two young men became great warriors and set out to rid the world of monsters. But they deliberately left four monsters alive—Cold, Hunger, Poverty and Death. Their reasons for doing so became the stories for another legend.
“This legend goes on to say one monster escaped without their knowledge,” Hunter continued. “That monster was known as Greed, and he hid from them in a deep cave under a body of water. Sometime later, Diving Heron plunged into the water and brought back Greed’s knowledge and secrets, contained in sacred parchments. Diving Heron turned the secrets over to a medicine man, who quickly learned to control them. He was able to change himself into any animal with extraordinary powers, and he did so to gain power and wealth. This medicine man became the first evil one. A Skinwalker.”
Bailey felt shivers run down her spine. Hunter seemed so serious as he calmly discussed an old legend she’d always believed was simply a Navajo grandmother’s tale. It was chilling.
“The first Skinwalker recruited others to his side, but he had one secret he refused to share with anyone. That secret was longevity—the power to live forever. With that power, he lived for a thousand years. When he finally sought the relief of death, the evil one told Diving Heron to replace the parchments holding those secrets back in the cave under the water so no one would ever find them.”
Hunter stopped talking and took a sip from the canteen. Then he stayed quiet and watched her. It felt like that last moment before an envelope was slit open, revealing bad news. He must be waiting for some sign to continue, she guessed.
“Go ahead,” she told him. “I don’t understand what this has to do with us, but I’m listening.”
“There have been many Skinwalkers throughout the ages. Most of them have taken the form of the head witch known as the Navajo Wolf, but throughout the years their legions have taken other animal forms, as well. Today…”
Hunter stopped, took a breath and seemed to make up his mind about something. “A few years ago, a mysterious man appeared in Dinetah. Evil and powerful, this man apparently found some of the old scared parchments. He’s gathered an army of greedy men who’ve learned to turn themselves into superpowerful animals. This army has been causing the Dine huge problems, so—”
“What? Wait a minute. You’re serious, aren’t you? You really believe this stuff.”
“Bailey,” he said with a shake of his head. “You said you trusted me to tell the truth. Listen to me. I have joined a secret group of Dine medicine men sworn to find and kill off the evil ones. We call ourselves the Brotherhood.”
She caught herself shaking her head, denying his words without saying so.
“I’ve seen them,” Hunter insisted softly. “I’ve done battle with creatures you would not believe. We lost a good friend in one skirmish, but we have taken out a number of them, as well. You would have to see it to…”
He stopped talking and stared over the fire at her. “You have seen it, haven’t you? You know what I say is true because you’ve seen one with your own eyes.”
“No,” she hedged. “It was a bad dream. A nightmare caused by exhaustion.”
“Where? When did you see it?”
“On the shuttle bus,” she told him with a shaky breath. “Right before the crash. Two eyes appeared at the window—yellow, scary, impossible eyes. And then there was this strange dog growling. I thought I was dreaming.”
Hunter stood and paced toward the narrow cave opening. “This is Skinwalker doing, then. I was afraid of that.” He came back and squatted beside her. “We might not be able to get the baby back tonight. They may have spirited her away somehow. But we will find her. We will rescue her. I swear it.
“We’ll go down now and check the cabin. But you must not be disappointed when we find they are gone.”
She reached out and gripped his arm. “You promised we would save Tara. I can’t really believe all this stuff. But if it’s true, what’ll we do?”
He pried her hand from his arm and held it in his warm palm. “We’ll ga
ther evidence. And we’ll wait for help. I think I’ll be able to send the Brotherhood a message at first light. By late tomorrow we’ll have assistance.”
Bailey couldn’t stop the tears that threatened. The situation was ridiculous. How could you battle witches? And how could everything that had seemed so dark and dangerous suddenly become so much worse?
Throwing herself into Hunter’s arms, she collapsed against him and sobbed.
A sliver of moon cast a glow around the peaks of a phantom thundercloud. Hunter moved like a cat, quiet and unseen in the near darkness. Bailey felt more like an elephant, stomping along in the rear and checking behind her at every step.
Skinwalkers came out at night. All Navajos knew that. So what was she doing out here on the desert floor, so exposed in the pitch-dark?
Hunter had given her the plan to create a diversion. She hoped to have enough courage to follow through. If she could only get a shot of brandy, or maybe a half-dozen cosmopolitans, to help her stay strong, things would look much better. Gritting her teeth, she tried to keep up.
A few moments later he stopped, turned, grabbed her up in a tight embrace. “It’s time,” he whispered directly in her ear.
Through both their jackets, she could feel him breathing. His body fairly shimmered with tension.
“Wait for the signal. Light the fire, then move to your left as fast as you can. Got it?”
She nodded, and he slipped away.
Don’t be surprised by the noise, he’d told her. Stay calm. Calm? No way. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her chest she was positive no other sound diversion should be necessary.
Going over and over his instructions in her head, Bailey remembered to count to twenty slowly. But as she got to nineteen, the whole world exploded in a noisy clamor. Horrible, loud screeches seemed to be surrounding her, coming from exactly where she stood.
That must be Hunter’s signal. He’d told her not to be surprised. But…hell.
With hands shaking and ears ringing, Bailey lit the match to set fire to the creosote branch she carried. Another explosion, this time of flame and heat. She had no trouble remembering to drop the branch, then turn and run.
She didn’t fall, thank heaven. Nor did she stop, until the base of the cliff loomed a few feet ahead.
Finally, out of breath and with her knees giving way, she collapsed behind a rock and squeezed her eyes shut. Hugging herself to keep her heart from jumping right out of her chest, Bailey waited.
Hunter was unnerved, which seldom happened anymore. What he’d found was not totally beyond possibility. Still, the technology of it had surprised him.
He crept over the desert floor until he reached the base of the cliff, wishing he had better news for Bailey.
Where had she gone, anyway? He stopped, listened, then actually heard her breathing. It automatically brought a smile to his face. She’d done exactly what he’d told her to do, even though he knew she’d been scared beyond reason.
Not counting on her to see it through, he’d had a secondary plan. But she’d done her job and then taken herself out of the way so he needn’t worry about her. She had turned into one tough little princess.
He moved closer and called out in a whisper, “Bailey, it’s me. Stay where you are. I’m on my way.”
When he found her crouched behind a boulder, he knelt and pulled her close. “I’m proud of you. We made a good team.”
“What was that god-awful noise?” she croaked. “How’d you do that?”
“I threw my voice. Made it sound like cats fighting. The hunters and warriors of old knew how to do such things. It’s a skill that can come in handy.”
“Well…yeah, I guess so. What about Tara?” Bailey’s voice cracked, and he wished there was something good to tell her.
“Gone. The cabin was empty, as I feared.”
“But how? Where’d they go?”
“There’s a massive tunnel hidden under the floorboards. I climbed down and followed it as far as I dared. That must be how they all got away.”
“Let’s go back,” she cried. “We’ll go into the tunnel and find where they took Tara.”
He shook his head and grimaced. “Not a good idea, I’m afraid. These are Skinwalkers. They have superhuman hearing and sight. No matter how quiet we tried to be, they’d hear our footsteps echoing down the tunnel a mile away. And we’d be no help to Tara if they caught us down there.”
“But…”
“The tunnel must lead somewhere,” he told her. “I’m betting it goes to some kind of underground cave where the Skinwalkers can hide without fear of being discovered. There has to be another way in and out. We’ll find it. But we need the Brotherhood’s help.”
“You said that last night. How are we going to call them?”
“At first light we can begin scouting for the other entrance. I’m sure the Bird People will have been notified to be on the watch for us by then. We’ll send a message to the Brotherhood through them.”
“The Bird People?”
“Never mind. You’ll see tomorrow. But right now we need to get out of the open and stay hidden until dawn. We don’t want to take any chances of being discovered.”
“Where are we going?”
He glanced up the cliff and grinned. “Back home, Miss Howard. Back to your coyote den.”
6
Home? Not anywhere close. The place was dark and dank and just plain creepy.
But up they went. And this time she climbed under her own power. The sleep, the food and following through with their plan had all combined to make her feel stronger.
After squeezing through the cave opening, Hunter squatted to stoke the fire. “I brought piñon needles up here while you slept to use as a cushion,” he told her. “Sit. The fire will warm things in a few minutes.”
She plopped down on the comfortably soft needles and stared at him across the blue-and-orange flames. Who was this man, really? Her whole life had turned upside down, but nothing was as confusing as he was.
“What made you decide to join the Tribal Police?” she asked.
“You don’t remember?” His voice was soft, tentative.
When she didn’t answer, he turned away to grab more pieces of wood for the fire. “No, I don’t suppose you do. We only spoke of futures once in the whole time we dated.”
“I can’t remember ever talking…at least about ambitions,” she said with a half smile. “I only remember the heat, and all that urgency, whenever you got anywhere close.”
Bailey knew that she’d been wrong. She hadn’t taken his ideas or feelings seriously. But she had been young and definitely foolish. And so swept up with her newly discovered lust that she had barely thought of anything save for their next kiss, their next stolen moment alone.
Hunter grunted and looked up at her with a grin. “Yeah. You were hot. I remember that all too well.”
From the tone of his voice, she didn’t know whether that was a compliment or a criticism. Of all the nerve. As if she’d been the only one to rush into their affair. As if he had never charmed his way into her jeans.
Irritation swamped her, but she refused to knuckle under to it. He was her lifeline, her way around the Skinwalkers and Tara’s only hope.
No, she needed him too much to start a fight. She decided to try again.
“Can you tell me now why you wanted to become a cop? I’ll really listen this time.”
“Don’t know if you’ll remember me telling you this, either,” he began with an almost charming smirk, “but my father was a retired U.S. Marshal officer when he brought the family back to my mother’s home in Dinetah. He’d been honored and cited for his work in the service as its number one disguise master.”
“I do remember you telling me about how important the person is who makes the disguises for the people the Marshal’s service protects. I thought that job sounded so cool. He died, didn’t he?”
“A couple of years before I met you.” Hunter gave a sharp nod. “He was assas
sinated. Someone put a bullet into the back of his skull, ran his car off a cliff and then burned the evidence. No one has ever been charged for the crime.”
“So you became a cop in his honor? Or to find his killer?”
“Neither, exactly. My brother, Kody, became an FBI agent in his memory, but I don’t have those same feelings.”
Hunter sat back, folded his long legs under him.
Bailey could hear the controlled anger lacing his words. It fascinated her. She decided to be nosy.
“You sound as though your father may have treated you and your brother differently.”
“Yeah. Kody doesn’t see it this way, but he was lucky. My parents sent him off to federal boarding schools at the time we moved back here to the Four Corners. I was the baby—in the Navajo tradition, my mother’s family needed me in the summers. My father needed me the rest of the time.”
Hunter watched her reactions carefully. He’d never said these things to anyone.
“What did your father do here in Dinetah?”
Anything except what was legal or moral, Hunter thought grudgingly to himself. He wasn’t sure about being open with her.
But he wouldn’t lie. Bailey was too important to lie to.
“Supposedly, my father had been hired to help the Tribal Police set up their brand-new, state-of-the-art communication and investigative outposts. He was only one-eighth Navajo, and hadn’t been too interested in his heritage. So he dragged me along to the remote areas of Dinetah in order to translate and teach him how to get along with the traditionalists.”
“You said ‘supposedly.’ What does that mean?”
“I believe my father was living a double life. Many times I saw him exchange money with some rather shady looking characters. I was even there one day when I think he killed someone.”
“Killed? Really?”
Hunter nodded sharply, then looked away. “He’d sent me back to the car. And I thought…well, he’d done that kind of thing a few times. At the houses of women I had never seen before. Not relatives. Not even all of them Navajos.”
Books by Linda Conrad Page 62
