Soul Whisperer

by Jenna Kernan

  “Not often,” he admitted.

  Her smile was knowing and still it caused a tiny jolt in his heart, like an electrical charge.

  “I expected you to lie.”

  But he hadn’t. How did she know?

  He tried for a smile, hoping she wouldn’t notice it didn’t reach his eyes or his heart. He didn’t enjoy being interrogated and was not accustomed to answering questions. So he tried for a distraction, an amusing anecdote after which he’d steer them back to his car or leave her here.

  “I nearly caught a Supernatural once.”

  “You’ve faced Supernaturals?”

  Did that impress her? He realized he wanted to.

  “Once.”

  Bess’s eyes widened. “Which one?”

  “Ksa, Goddess of Water. She brought a terrible storm and I had to confront her.”

  “She could have killed you.”

  He shrugged. “Worse things than that.”

  Bess knew this all too well.

  “Trouble was half a dozen people on the waterfront saw her, right out in the bay, riding an orca.” Bess winced.

  “Took some doing to erase all that.”

  There, he’d taken control again and ceased her endless questions.

  “Do you use your memory gift with your lovers?”

  The smile died upon his lips, but there was no hesitation in his answer. “No.”

  “But you could?”

  “It’s unethical.”

  “What about when you tire of them and they won’t go away like good little girls, and instead they get attached, leave their cosmetics in your medicine cabinet and start shopping for engagement rings?”

  “I do what every other man does.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Make sure they find me with another woman.”

  Bess laughed and nodded. “I’ve done that, too, but only with the stubborn ones. You can’t let them stay too long. They notice we don’t age and start asking questions we can’t answer.”

  Cesar could feel his own pain as he considered parting from Bess and he hadn’t even managed to slip around with her between his satin sheets.

  She stuck her hands in her pockets and continued to the end of the pier. He kept pace with her. “Did you ever stay with one too long?”

  “No. My affairs are very brief. You?” he asked.

  “Yes, usually. Ours will be, as well.”

  That did not disappoint him very much as it meant she was planning to have an affair with him. He’d begun to doubt she would. Cesar cautioned himself not to do a fist pump as she faced him, looking him dead in the eye.

  “Don’t even think about falling in love with me, Cesar, because I’m not going there. I don’t do attachments, especially with a Spirit Child.”

  He scowled, lowering his chin like a bull preparing to charge. She had quite an ego on her. “I don’t even like you.”

  “That’s not a requirement.”

  “Maybe you’ll fall in love with me.”

  “Don’t count on it.”

  He leaned in, his nose almost touching hers. “So how’s about we just stick to what interests us both and sleep together. I don’t know if it’s because you’re a Skinwalker or what, but I’ve never wanted anyone more. Have you?”

  “Flattering, but…”

  He grasped her arm and turned her to face him, demanding an answer. “Have you?”

  She broke the contact of their eyes. “No. Never. It scares me.”

  “Thrill is how I would describe it.”

  “But what is it? I don’t know and neither do you. It could be dangerous.”

  “Or extremely arousing.”

  She gave her head a little sideward nod as if conceding his point. Then she placed her hand on his arm, silently demanding that he release her. He didn’t want to and hesitated a moment too long, for her expression went black as her aura turned from brown to red. He let her go, dropping his hands to his sides.

  She stared out over the dark water. When he remembered that she could throw herself from the pier and into the air, he inched closer, cautioning himself not to say anything else to upset her. He wanted, no, that wasn’t right, he needed to get her back to his place.

  He tried persuasion. “You’re as aroused as I am. I can see that pulsing bright pink aura from a block away.”

  She smiled. “Yes, but unlike a man, I can resist temptation. And unlike a human, I follow my instincts. Ravens are not known for being reckless, and sleeping with you feels reckless to me. I’ll pass for now.”

  He needed her now and would not let her just slip away from him.

  “You can’t resist this,” he insisted, reaching for her.

  Bess took a step backward, off the pier, falling down toward the icy water of San Francisco Bay.

  He dropped to his knees and watched her descent. There was a flash of brilliant white light, as if St. Elmo’s fire burned beneath the pier and then a raven glided below him, dark wings against dark water.

  It seemed that Bess could resist temptation after all.

  Bess dipped low over the churning water. She’d slept with men for many reasons, loneliness mostly, and grief and the need to be touched. But the raw passion that Cesar Garza roused in her was angry red and pulsing like a thumb struck with a hammer. She knew she couldn’t ignore it for long. No matter which way she turned it was there in the promise in dark eyes, the half smile of his sensual mouth and the aura that reached out to hers before he did.

  Perilous. That was what this was. What if she slept with him and it didn’t go away? What if it got worse?

  She veered right, away from the city and toward the cool, soothing darkness of the Redwood Forest. She didn’t need him. Surely this would pass in time.

  It had to. Dark clouds streaked across the moon, casting their edges in silver as she swept from the bay to the hills beyond. She flew deep into the old-growth forest, briefly considering staying in her lodge, which was only a few miles from this spot. Her retreat was large, secluded and fully stocked. But finally she rejected the idea because she needed to stay in her animal form. Here she had more control of her impulses for Cesar. If she changed back, she’d turn right around and take him up on his offer.

  She perched in the top branches of the tallest tree, gazing out over the canopy stretched out before her. She could hear the campers in the state forest, their voices low as they sat in circles, huddled about their little fires. They didn’t know what was out there tonight.

  Bess thought about the strange gray newborns that had nearly outflown a raven. She ruffled her feathers, allowing them to settle back in place. She did not like the new, vulnerable feeling wriggling in her belly. This was her forest and she would not tremble like a rabbit in the grass, or look over her shoulder when she landed to drink at a stream. They did not belong here. So she must drive them out. And that meant finding out what they were. If it would help her be free of the intruders, she would even work with Garza, but only in order to be rid of those things. Yes, that was the reason she must see him again.

  But she could not go on her journey to the Way of Souls tonight. The short flight across the bay had confirmed her fears. She was still weak from the blood loss. She would have to be patient as her body replaced the vital fluids. In a day or two she would be strong enough.

  So in the meantime, should she stay here with those gray demons or occupy herself with Cesar Garza?

  Bess listened to the unfamiliar sounds below her, a sort of scratching combined with a low growl. Never before was there a sound here that she could not instantly identify. She craned her neck to look behind her as she remembered how fast the one climbed the tree. The starlight glinted off dark branches. This place, cradled high in the redwood pines, always brought her the peace of knowing her predators could not reach her. But now they could. The damn things could fly.

  Right now they prowled the night in her forest. The growling grew closer. Bess stood, her talons gripping the rough bark as she cocked
her head and lifted the feathers over her ear holes to listen. They were below her on the floor of the forest, scratching in the pine. She was certain. In an instant they could be up the tree and, weak as she was, she was doubtful she could outfly them again.

  Bess pushed off and flew toward the bright glowing lights that man had invented to protect himself from the darkness. It hurt her that she needed to seek the refuge of humans. But her pride would survive and so would she.

  Those things had stolen her peace. She meant to have it back, even if she had to work with a Soul Whisperer to do it.

  Chapter 8

  Cesar waited on the pier until the moist salty air coated him with a fine sheen of brine. Hoping she’d come back, waiting for her to come back. She didn’t come back.

  “To hell with this,” he said to the churning water below his feet. Bess had gone where he could not pursue her and he didn’t like it.

  Cesar reached for his phone and summoned his driver, who met him at the curb a few minutes later and then dropped Cesar at his front door. It was the last place he wanted to be. He hesitated before the glass door, held open by Anthony. If she came back, it might be to his place. Did he want her to find him waiting like some lovelorn puppy?

  He briefly considered trolling the tourist bars as he had done for ten years, just to show her she wasn’t missed. But the prospect of another such encounter left him empty inside. Bess’s sudden intrusion and departure from his life only served to draw attention to the meaninglessness of his relationships. If you could even call them that.

  “Going out again, Mr. Garza? Shall I call back your car?”

  He shook his head. “No, Anthony. You have a good night.”

  Cesar swept by him and headed for the elevators.

  He waited, hands balled in his pockets as he thought of her beside him and how she looked by candlelight there at his table in the restaurant, her lovely aura circling her like a halo.

  Maybe she didn’t understand the loneliness that surrounded him. But if anyone in the world could, it was Bess. She’d lived among humans and among animals while always being separate from them. She understood loss, for she would have also had to watch them all die as she lived on.

  But she had the other shifters. If she needed them, they were there for her, as the appearance of Tuff proved. While he had no one. He could not even join the communities as a voting member. Cesar was permitted, albeit grudgingly, to speak to the committee when necessary. Though he knew not one of his kind would come to his aid if he were wounded. In fact, when he had been wounded in the shooting, they had left him to human surgeons.

  Cesar lowered his chin to his chest, trying to ignore the burn of shame filling his chest.

  He still had his work and that was what he lived for. It was enough to know what he did was valuable. He didn’t need their acceptance.

  The elevator arrived and he stepped aboard, hitting the floor button and dropping back against the wall. As the car rose, he tried not to think of Bess here, her lips a whisper from his.

  He punched the wall with the side of his fist and then knocked the back of his head once against the same wall.

  Was she with that buffalo-man right now?

  A few moments later he’d reached the empty sanctuary of his condo and was headed for his bar, pausing as he recalled the whiskey he had before dinner and the bottle of wine he’d finished unassisted. He lifted the empty tumbler she’d given him, the ice now melted to water, and threw it with all his might. It exploded against the wall, sending a shower of shards raining down on his black leather sofa.

  “Go to bed,” he muttered. He hoped he could sleep. Sleep was one of the few refuges left to him. There he might again be part of a family, loved by his parents and adored by his younger brother.

  But sometimes he faced the opposite, his brother as he had last seen him, broken, bleeding from his mouth and ears.

  Cesar pinched his eyes closed and shook his head to vanquish the image. Then he stalked down the hall to the bathroom. He paused at the wadded white towel stained bright red with Bess’s blood. He used it to mop up the floor and tub and then threw the thing in the hamper. But his efforts to remove all signs of her failed, because his brain kept flashing him images of Bess.

  Cesar stripped out of his clothes and into a hot shower. Water droplets jetted against his skin like tiny stinging needles of heat. The room billowed with steam as he soaped and rinsed. It wasn’t until he switched off the taps and reached for the fluffy white towel that he heard the rhythmic rapping. He looked around, trying to identify the unfamiliar noise. It reminded him of the sound of a slack jib of a sailboat thumping against the mast.

  The tapping changed to a different sequence. Tap tap tap-tap tap. Pause. Tap tap. It came again, in the direction of his bedroom. And then he understood.

  Bess.

  He wrapped the towel about his hips and headed for the bedroom. He unlocked the window and drew up the sash. There she stood, a large, glossy black raven staring at him with those bead-black eyes.

  He stepped back. She walked across the threshold and onto the inner sill.

  “Bess, can you understand me?”

  She cocked her head. Then she opened her beak and spoke. Her voice crackled, but it was perfectly clear. “Not in the least.”

  The flash of white light nearly blinded him and when he opened his eyes, she stood before him, dressed in a black silk robe, which revealed an enticing glimpse of formfitting lace on her bosom.

  “Leave it to a Spirit Child to assume that we can’t think when in animal form.”

  Her choice of attire and arrival in his bedroom certainly boded well, but her prickliness did not.

  “Why did you disappear on me?”

  “Because you were looking at me as if I were dessert.”

  He gave her that same look. “Then why come back?”

  Her brow knitted, giving her an uncharacteristic troubled look that lasted only a heartbeat before she recovered. The smooth mask of confidence slid back into place as she gave him a seductive smile. What was she afraid of? She didn’t trust him. That was understandable. But he could be trusted. If she’d stay, he’d prove it to her.

  “Just a public service, really. Trying to protect the other women in the area.”

  “That’s my job.”

  She laughed and slid off the sill. “Yes, but I meant from you.”

  Had she been back there, to the forest? Had she seen them again? It would explain her return.

  If they had driven her to him, he should be grateful. Instead he felt hurt.

  Still he offered her what he believed she sought. “I could protect you, tonight.”

  There was that forlorn look again. Had he guessed correctly? The need to shelter her pounded within him with each heartbeat.

  Again he saw that look of vulnerability, but she masked it with a slow smoldering scan of his body. Her leisurely assessment concluded when she glanced toward his bed. Cesar’s muscles tightened, all coiled potential waiting for her to decide. That was the way with her kind. The females chose their mate and the males did all that they could to be worthy. He glanced at his bed, as well. Did she find his nest suitable? Would she see him as a good provider, attentive? He hoped she would let him stroke her fine long legs and more secret places. It was hard to remain still when his body screamed for him to take her in his arms, fling her to his bed and devour her. He hadn’t even kissed her, yet here he was, wanting her more than any other woman he had ever met in his long, lonely life.

  Say yes, Bess.

  She didn’t move. He stepped toward her and she slid away, so he paused, waiting for her to come to him.

  Bess motioned to his chest and he felt a foreshadowing.

  “Is that a gunshot wound?” She motioned to the puckering scar below his collarbone.

  “In the line of duty.”

  “Who shot you?”

  He hesitated, not wanting to go there. “Long story for another time.”

  Was she g
oing to be stubborn? She regarded him a long moment. “You’ll tell me sometime?”

  He nodded, trying not to sigh in relief at the reprieve.

  “It looks like it’s over your heart.”

  He rubbed the tiny puckering scar under his collarbone with his index finger.

  “It missed.”

  “Good news for you and for me.”

  “Come here,” he ordered.

  She didn’t.

  “I’ve got concerns,” she said. “The same thing that makes this coupling unique is also what disturbs me.”

  Coupling. Yes, that was what he wanted, to couple, to quench the hot, thrumming need to mate and claim her as no one else had ever done. His body rang like a bell with his need.

  “I don’t want attachments. So you understand. I’m not here for that.”

  “Except the obvious one,” he said.

  She smiled. “Yes. There’s that.”

  “I’m not going to fall in love with you, Bess. I’m only going to make love to you, all night if you let me.”

  “And then let me go.”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  “That’s the way it must be. At the end of the day, you are still my enemy.”

  Some of his desire died in the knowledge that she didn’t want him any more than any of the women of his race. She came to him at night, under cover of darkness as if he was some dirty secret she didn’t want anyone to know about.

  Why did he let that hurt him? He was getting what he wanted, wasn’t he? And he didn’t need a Skinwalker in his life any more than she wanted a Spirit Child in hers. Still he couldn’t keep his jaw from locking as all of the tenderness left him. She wanted what he gave the others, a night of ecstasy followed by a quick goodbye.

  “One night. No strings,” he promised.

  She cocked her head at him again, as if uncertain. “We need to get this out of our systems, whatever it is. Don’t you agree?”