by Vonna Harper
“That’s what you want to talk about?” he challenged. “The pictures you hope to take.”
“Hope? Are you going to try to stop me?”
As the words spread through him, he struggled to accept that that was why she’d come here today. She hadn’t been looking for him after all. Or maybe her plan had been to use him in order to get what she wanted.
Too much of Cougar clung to his edges. Cougar trusted nothing human and never would, not even a human he’d had sex with.
But that was good, wasn’t it? Cougar had instinct Hok’ee would never be able to match.
“I had a dream last night,” she said, stopping his thoughts. “About you—and Cougar. How is he?”
“You care?”
To his surprise, she pressed a palm to her forehead. “I don’t know if I want to. The truth? I want you to be who I initially thought you were, a man.” Lowering her hand, she tucked it in her back pocket. She still had hold of the camera. “I don’t want things this complex between us.”
“What do you want?”
“Sex.” She gave an embarrassed laugh. “Tell me something, you deliberately didn’t get dressed—am I right?”
By way of answer, he stroked his erection. It was as if fucking her had never happened; he craved her as a starving man craves food. At the same time, a part of him wished Cougar would rip her heart from her chest. Everything would be so much simpler without her.
“We’re not going to get anywhere, are we?” She sounded weary. “Every time I try to get you to open up, you hide behind silence. Everything’s about you, your life, your agenda. I feel lost in it.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, damn it! What if I touched you? Would Cougar let me know what’s going to happen between us?”
“Maybe, if he knows.”
“You don’t have to worry, because I’m not interested.” She blinked several times, but her eyes still glittered. “It’s been real, Hok’ee, maybe the most real thing I’ve ever experienced. But I’ve had the night to think things through, at least the part of the night when I wasn’t dreaming about…”
She kept pushing a button on the camera, but he wasn’t sure whether she was aware of it. He didn’t think she was taking pictures.
“Did you have a career?” she asked. “A job you were passionate about, meaningful work?”
“I don’t know.” He should walk up to her and pull off her clothes, lay her down and bury his hard, hot length in her soft tissues. They wouldn’t talk.
“I’m sorry, wrong question to ask. I have a skill, a talent I’m passionate about. I’ve been able to do some exciting things because of it, but nothing has come close to what I believe is possible here. This”—she held up the camera—“is a small part of what I want to accomplish. I have to photograph where you live, I have to.”
“What do you mean, a small part?”
She started, and he wondered if she’d become accustomed to his silence. “Where I saw Anaba go after he died. Wherever it is, the place is incredible. And the Anasazi. They were there. I can reach them; at least I have to try. But I don’t know if I can find it on my own. I need your help.”
I won’t give it, he nearly said. But her gift would allow her to reach through the mist of Cougar and Anaba’s memories to this land’s original residents, The Ancient Ones. Even he knew how incredible that was.
Looking at her, he became aware of something he hadn’t noted before. Her shoulders were broad for a woman. In contrast, her neck was short. Her bony knees were scraped because of what he’d done to her. The town women he’d turned to when his need for sex became too strong wore makeup and dressed to accent their femininity. In contrast, Kai’s features lacked artificial definition, and her clothes were asexual.
This was what she was, not some nameless creature he’d selfishly captured. And yet in many respects she remained a stranger.
“You’re staring at me, Hok’ee. What are you thinking?”
“The things you want from me—it won’t happen quickly, will it?”
She didn’t seem to know what to do with his question. In truth, he wasn’t sure why he’d asked it.
“I can stay here as long as I need to, if that’s what you’re talking about.” She again pressed her palm to her temple. “There are limitations to the current grant I’m working under but—that’s not what this is about, is it?”
When he’d first spotted her, he hadn’t thought beyond being given a reason to go on living. He’d wanted to fuck, to control and to fuck.
So much had changed since then. And yet all he really wanted was to fuck. To not care about anything else.
She jabbed her fingers at him. “Answer me, Hok’ee, damn it!”
“I don’t care about your career.” He stepped toward her. “Or about the Anasazi.”
Mouth open, she studied him, starting with the top of his head and sliding down. She paused briefly at his cock. “Why not?”
“That’s your concern, Kai, not mine,” he lied. “Remember, I died. Then something, a Chindi or Skinwalker, turned me into what I am. This is me.” He all but slapped his cock. “The only thing that matters.”
“No. It can’t be. When Anaba—when Garrin killed him, you mourned. And hearing about the child you could have—”
“Shut up!” Pain ripped through him, and he lost awareness of his cock’s demands.
He’d erased all but the final few feet between them while they were throwing words at each other. Close enough that he could smell her, he acknowledged how easy it would be to let her scent engulf him. The pain would end. He’d no longer care about what she called her gift or her goals. He wouldn’t give a damn whether she ever learned about Ghost House. Maybe most of all, he’d stop wishing he’d never met her.
He wanted to run her down again, wanted her to try to flee so he’d have a reason to make her his prisoner. This time he’d keep her gagged, and it wouldn’t matter whether it was fucking or rape.
Her arms dangled at her sides now, one empty, the other holding the camera. As soon as the outside world saw what she’d photographed, they’d descend on Tochona. He and the other Tocho would have to go elsewhere. But where?
Reaching out, he snatched the camera away. Eyes glittering, she came at him with her nails extended. He stopped her by clamping his fingers around her throat. She buried her nails in the back of his hand.
“It’s back to this, is it, Hok’ee? Everything physical. Animal.”
“I am animal.”
“No, you aren’t, damn it!” She dug deeper.
“What do you care? You didn’t come looking for me. It’s Cougar you’re after.”
Her eyes went big and deep and threatened to suck him into a place he didn’t want to go. Then her eyes started to glitter again. “That’s what you think?” she whispered.
Even with everything he had to think about, he couldn’t ignore the pain she was inflicting on his hand. Although he had to force himself to do it, he released her. When she didn’t return the favor, he shook himself free.
“Where’s Anaba’s killer?” he demanded.
“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me. Does it matter?”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Truth was, he didn’t want the man to have anything to do with today. “Does he know where you are?”
“No. I had no intention of letting—”
“You’re certain he didn’t follow you?”
“I think you know the answer to that. After all, you’ve been watching me all morning.”
“Not me, Cougar.”
“Cougar,” she whispered. “All the time I was walking today, I thought about what I’d have to do to convince you to let Cougar take over so he could help me reach the past, but why should you? After all, as you said, what matters to me isn’t important to you. You’re selfish. That’s why you captured me, so you’d have what you wanted—a female body to fuck.”
If he wrapped his arms around her, would she be able to look into his past and tell h
im what he’d been doing with himself before everything had been ripped away? He’d hold her and hold her, and eventually he’d have all the answers? But if he used her that way, she’d have a right to use him, or rather Cougar.
“What’s it going to be?” she asked, sounding tired. “Will you at least let me take this”—she indicated the camera—“into the ruins.”
“They aren’t ruins. They’re my home.”
She closed her eyes. Moments later, she swayed. Thinking to steady her, he took her arm only to have her jerk free. “I don’t want you to touch me. You did last night—in my dream. Only it wasn’t you. Cougar fucked me.”
At her words, Cougar flexed his muscles. If he wasn’t careful, the other half of his being would break free—and maybe turn her fantasy into reality.
“You let him?” he asked.
“It was a dream! I had no control over—do you dream, Hok’ee?”
He didn’t want to go on talking to her. In the heart of his hearts, he wished he could walk out of her life, but if he did, he’d always regret it.
“What about last night?” Her voice was small. “Did you even think about me?”
Last night had been Cougar’s time, so he didn’t know how to answer. “I can’t let you take your pictures,” he said.
She took a backward step, then stood her ground. “Why not?”
“Skinwalker.”
He thought she was going to press her forehead again. Instead, she covered her mouth and spoke around her fingers. “What about Skinwalker?”
“Don’t you remember what you told me about the fog, only it wasn’t fog. If you’re right, and I think you are, Skinwalker brought me here, me and the other Tocho. This land belongs to the spirits.”
Confusion spread over her features, then she nodded. “Maybe. And maybe I’ll have to ask Skinwalker.”
Much as he needed to ask how she hoped to accomplish that, he couldn’t concentrate on the question. He must have once loved a woman, otherwise he wouldn’t have reacted the way he had when one had denied him fatherhood, but his mind held only one memory, of the time he’d spend with Kai. He drew her hand from her mouth, only to bring it near his so he could breathe onto it. She relaxed a little, and her expression softened.
“It’s so complex, isn’t it?” she whispered. “Between us.”
Although he wanted to tell her it didn’t have to be, he remained silent; she was right. Much of it was his fault. If he’d initially approached her the way a civilized man would, they might have gotten to know each other. But he wasn’t civilized, and he had so little of himself to give her.
“Is there more you can tell me?” he asked. “About the man I used to be.”
“You’re sure about this?”
“I don’t know. Can you?”
“I can try.”
But would it make any difference? He couldn’t go back to that person any more than he could expect her to join him in his world.
Let her go. Walk away.
Instead, he drew her close, pulled her arms behind her, and leaned over her. She tried to turn to the side, then, sighing, looked up at him.
“What is this? A return to the way things were between us? I do whatever you make me do?”
“You like it.” He bent her back farther, spreading his legs to assure he wouldn’t lose his balance. “The cougar in me turns you on.”
“It can’t just be sex between us. There has to be more, something substantial.”
“Why?” he shot back, her body sending him messages that threatened to swamp him.
“You can’t be satisfied with—”
He silenced her, pressing his lips against hers with enough force that her head snapped back. Unwilling to break the contact, he kept after her. She again tried to turn away, and this time he stopped her by sucking her lower lip between his teeth and holding on. Her breath hissed against his cheeks and nose. When she stopped struggling, he nibbled on her lip, sucking in her sweet essence, tasting her soft and delicate tissues, thinking about doing this to another part of her anatomy.
Moment by moment, she relaxed. Her arms were limp, but he kept them behind her because he loved the feel of control it gave him. Maybe she loved the same thing.
That was what would keep them together, their separate and yet compatible needs? He’d determine the amount of freedom he’d allow her, and she’d live within those confines? He’d define their relationship, particularly the timing and content of their sex life. She might ask and sometimes beg, but he’d always be in charge.
Yes, he could control her, rule her! Keep her with him.
Shifting position, he captured both of her wrists in one hand. Then he bowed her even more and ran his teeth over the tight expanse of her throat.
“Oh God. God!” she blurted. “Damn you for—oh, damn you.”
He’d silence her, or even better, turn her words into pleading. He’d strip off her clothing and—
Bam!
22
Kai ran as she’d never believed she could run. But although her feet flew, and her lungs felt capable of endlessly supplying enough oxygen, her speed was nothing compared to Hok’ee’s. Within a minute of starting, he was so far ahead she knew he couldn’t hear if she cried out.
Because of the great stone walls, the rifle shot had echoed, making it impossible for her to be certain whether she was going in the right direction. But Hok’ee had shown no hesitation as he took off. Because he’d headed due east, so had she. Between having to keep an eye on her footing and coming to terms with what they’d heard, she had little opportunity to think ahead to what they might find. If only she’d been able to convince Garrin not to take his rifle.
One thing she did know, maybe the only thing that mattered, was that she didn’t want Garrin to have shot another cougar. She wasn’t sure Hok’ee could handle the death of another Tocho, but would it be any easier for her?
Her shins started to ache, and she was getting blisters. If she stopped to deal with either condition, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to get going again. And so because nothing was more important than being there for Hok’ee, she fought the pain in her shins and heels.
What was she thinking? She couldn’t possibly know the right things to say if the worst had happened. Although it still hurt when she thought about it, her experience with death was so different from Hok’ee’s.
Vengeance. That’s what he’d turn to.
Hok’ee had headed for the top of the canyon, and although she’d been grateful for the animal trail that allowed her to climb at a steady, gradual pace, when she reached the top, she felt exposed. On the other hand, the view was spectacular. She could see for miles. Granted, it was difficult to make out the crevices she knew she’d encounter on the rim, but it was like being on the top of the world.
This was where eagles landed, she told herself even though she wasn’t sure they really did. Certainly the ancients must have posted guards here, and hopefully they’d appreciated the scenery. With nothing to slow the wind, she was glad for the braid that kept her hair out of her eyes. If she remained out in the open for long, she’d wind up with a sunburn, but with her senses telling her she was still following Hok’ee footsteps, she concentrated on covering as much territory as possible.
Soon, all too soon, she’d know the story behind the rifle blast.
A sound she hadn’t heard before, and at odds with the wind, captured her attention. Slowing, she took inventory of where she was. To her surprise, she realized she’d been heading back toward her and Garrin’s camp, albeit at a much higher elevation than before. She was also within feet of a ledge.
Confused, she stopped and shielded her eyes from the sun. She hadn’t reached a steep drop-off after all. Yes, she risked a long fall into nothing if she continued going in a straight line, but to the left was a slope leading down to what—she had no idea.
The moment she reached the slope, she knew without a doubt that Hok’ee had gone this way, only it hadn’t been Hok’ee.
Cougar had taken those steps.
When had he shifted, and why?
The why came all too easily. He needed to be a predator.
Hand to her throat, she started walking again. The slope was so steep she had to angle her body back, which made it difficult to see where she was going, though her footing was secure. When she glanced down, she discovered she was no longer on an animal trail. Instead, steps had been carved into the rock. The narrow, widely spaced stairs were worn down from years of exposure to the elements.
Who had done the work, when, and why?
Overwhelmed by the multitude of questions, and not enough answers, she nevertheless shook them off so she could concentrate on what she needed to. Cougar’s essence clung to the steps. Yes, he was animal, and yet what she sensed was more than that. Telling herself she’d tapped into Hok’ee was the simple explanation, except she couldn’t quite make herself believe it was that simple.
Opening up her mind even more, she slipped into an untested space and time. She was seeing with Cougar’s eyes, only there was something different about the predator she’d come to accept as Hok’ee’s other half. This Cougar was older, centuries older. Even more incredible, he was no longer in the here and now. As a consequence, neither was she.
She’d slipped back in time; there was no other explanation. Just as she’d done following Anaba’s death. The physical world was crisper somehow, the sky bluer, the sun warmer.
Several men, naked and toasted nearly the color of their surroundings, crouched maybe a hundred feet ahead of her. Their hair was long and tangled, their hands wrapped around stones they pounded against the ground. There was no doubt that they were chiseling out more stairs.
There was something almost transparent about them, making her wonder whether they existed only in her mind. Sweat glistened on their backs. They were talking to each other. At least she assumed that’s what the frequent clicks and grunts were. Within reach of each man was what she recognized as an atlatl, which was a two-foot long throwing stick, along with a handful of darts.
Anasazi.
She couldn’t take another step, couldn’t remember how to breathe. The more intently she studied the ghost-men, the more her awe grew. The atlatls left no doubt that she was looking at what archeologists had labeled the early Basket Makers, the original Anasazi who’d yet to develop bows and arrows.
