by C. J. Parker
Bobbie gathered her hair into a ponytail and twisted into a tight bun. “Snow, bring some of the older boys back with you to help Rhonda as soon as you let them know what’s coming.” She paused, “And, Rhonda, be careful to stay off the ash pit behind the council hut. Falling in would be a very bad thing.”
She pinned her attention on Kangee. “Tab and I will help gather the food, stoves and fuel.” Bobbie’s head snapped around to the side. “Where’s the truck? I’ve not seen it since I’ve been back.”
“Katrina took it out.” Kangee steeled himself for her reaction to his comment. Bobbie wasn’t going to be happy.
“We don’t have a truck? No way out of here?” Her eyes rounded and her neck reddened. “You better tell me that truck was replaced.”
“Everyone wanted their own car.” He shrugged and spread his fingers wide in front of him. “The insurance money was split up. About a mile away from the road is a clearing. They’re all parked there.”
“Dammit, Kangee! First the orphan slaves then everyone wanted a car? Did this clan dissolve into idiocy after my brother died?” Bobbie grew redder by the minute. “That was my brother’s truck. Who gave permission for this?”
“Calm down, Robertina.” Kangee’s face heated with anger as he grasped her by the arms. “The truck was useless. Elsu said to invest all the insurance money into the clan fund until he returned. When he didn’t return alive, the money became clan funds to use as the new leader deemed fit.” He released her and stepped back. “Unfortunately, she wasn’t here, was she?”
Regret clouded her eyes. “Might I remind you that there are always leaders in the clan, Kangee. Aetheria could have asked the spirits.”
“Aetheria wouldn’t get involved.” And Lord knows he’d tried to get his mother to interfere. “She said we should wait for our leader to return. But waiting was useless. We needed vehicles for times like this and since our leader was in New York City finding herself and vacationing in New Orleans with her new buddies, we made the decision ourselves.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. His heart twisted at the torment in her eyes.
She swallowed hard. “I see. Well, I wasn’t exactly doing either of those things, but we’ll talk about that later. Right now, we have to get out of here.” She stepped over the threshold but turned back. “And please remind everyone that their leader has found herself and returned from vacation and will personally lock anyone in the Council House who tries to leave others behind. They can face the Spirit Warriors and see how they like it.” She walked into the house, slamming the screen door behind her.
Kangee remained at the bottom of the steps, listening to Bobbie throw things around in the house. With a heavy sigh, he centered his attention on Rhonda. She turned the huge ring of keys around in her hands, a perplexed expression in her eyes.
The last time Kangee counted them there were seventy-five total. He knew what seven of them belonged to, the others were anyone’s guess. He took the keys from Rhonda and singled out the one for the shed. “After you turn it, you’ll have to kick the lock. Been like that since Bobbie and I were kids. Her father used to say the combination was one turn to the right and one swift kick to the left.”
She looked him boldly in the eyes. “Are there enough cars to get everyone out, Kangee?”
Kangee smiled trying to ease her worry. “It may take more than one trip, but, yes, we’ll get everyone out.” He hugged her gently. “Right now we need to concentrate on trying to save the homes. I’m only worried about two. Aetheria’s house up in that old oak is a crash landing waiting to happen, and Agnes’ house is nothing more than mud and sticks on a slab. She refuses to let anyone raise and stabilize it.”
Tabatha inhaled deeply. “Shouldn’t we get started? I’d like to get everyone busy then I’d like to hear a real weatherman or someone from the Weather Channel tell us what we’re up against.”
“I’ll do the call,” Lexie offered.
“The call?” Tabatha glanced from Lexie to Kangee. “What’s that mean?”
“Run around screaming ‘storm coming, storm coming’.” Lexie laughed. “It’ll help Snow get everyone moving.” She took off at a run across the common ground.
“Tabatha, you get with Bobbie.” Kangee could hear her stomping across the floor and muttering to herself about stupid men and their dick-headed assumptions. Every now and then, a curse word would ring out loudly. “See if you can calm her down and get her back on track. Rhonda, I’ll show you to the shed.”
Tabatha walked toward the steps. “Okay, but so you know, what she’s gone through has been no vacation.”
Kangee turned ready to defend them at the sound of someone running through the woodland behind the house. Dexter, one of the men who had followed Cuda out of camp broke free of the tree line, his face a mask of horror and streaked with tears, his chest and arms covered with blood.
“They’ve killed my Manny, Kangee. They killed Manny and skinned her.”
“Sweet Jesus.” Tabatha raced to the railing and vomited.
“Who killed her? Where is she?” Kangee’s chest tightened at the news. This couldn’t happen at a worse time. Too many would jump to conclusions and react badly. How many did this make? Too many. Something had to be done, but the hurricane had to be taken into account first. Get everyone out, then he was going to put a stop to this, one way or the other. “Take me to her, Dexter.”
Kangee took Tabatha by the shoulders. “Tell Bobbie I’ll be right back. Make her stay put until I get back and know more. I’d say not to tell her anything, but she’d know.”
Bobbie ran out of the house and down the stairs off the back porch, coming to a stop in front of Dexter. “Take us to Manny, Dexter.” She glanced at Kangee. “You think I’d let you go without me? This is pack business and Manny was my mother’s best friend. Stop trying to protect me, Kangee. I won’t have it.”
Dexter ran into the woods without looking back, followed closely by Kangee and Bobbie. When Tabatha and Rhonda started to follow, Kangee stopped. “No. Go back to the house and stay there. Don’t let anyone in. If the word gets out before we get back, there could be trouble.”
It took about twenty minutes for Dexter to lead them to Manny. The flies swarmed the bloody corpse lying under a massive oak. The wind blowing away from the village, had kept the smell away but what happened to Manny would spread quickly.
What was left of Manny’s skin lay a few feet from her, tossed away like so much trash. Kangee raised his nose into the air and drew in any smells left behind. Underlying the sweet copper odor of blood, the familiar scent of a popular aftershave lingered along with cigarette smoke, and detergent. He blew out sharply, and inhaled again. Red clay mixed with cinnamon could be separated from the other smells. The same Outsider male as the other murders, but not anyone Kangee had met before, he was sure. He remembered Derek’s scent was that of cold steel, Troy’s of hot sage.
“She’s only been dead two, maybe three hours.” Kangee searched the surrounding area for footprints, or anything the killer may have dropped, finding nothing but a half burnt match and footprints leading toward the outlet into the Gulf, along with a few prints of a raccoon giving the body a wide birth. He glanced back, seeing Bobbie leaning over the body, eyes closed, rocking in place as her lips moved in silent prayer.
“I’ll be back in a minute.” He walked beside the prints until they led him to the water’s edge. Kangee gazed into the distance but saw nothing or no one. No sound came to his ears. The killer was long gone.
“Someone go back and grab something to wrap Manny in. We can at least give her that small amount of dignity.” Kangee returned to Dexter and Bobbie’s side. “Dex, we’ll take Manny to the fire pit and take care of matters quickly. Bobbie will perform her ceremony today. A hurricane is coming, we can’t waste time with a waiting period.” The stricken expression on Dexter’s face nearly tore Kangee’s heart from his chest. “It’s that or hide her until after the storm. What do you want to
do?”
Dexter shook his head. “No. I won’t hide her. She deserves better than that.” The man broke down then, racked with sobs. “I’m so sorry, I took Cuda’s side.”
Bobbie touched the top of his head gently. “Things are so messed up right now it’s hard to know what to do, or whose side to be on. Now, let’s give Manny the ceremony she deserves.”
Kangee gave thanks to God that there were no kids involved. Manny and Dexter had never been able to have them. He’d no more thought that when shame soured his stomach. At least if they’d had kids, Dexter would have someone to go home to, someone to grieve with.
Chapter Sixteen
The ceremony had taken less than an hour to perform. The village buzzed with gossip and speculation over the murder of Manny as pre-storm activity increased. But Tabatha could see the resentment the villagers had for her and Rhonda.
As the inky black night faded into the gray of morning, Tabatha watched the men rush up and down stairs with armloads of shutters. She couldn’t sit and do nothing. Though she was sure they wouldn’t want her help, she ran to the nearest house and concentrated on the stack of long metal shutters lying on the ground. Centering her magic, she waited for the hum her grandfather had called the “whisper of angels” to ring in her ears and the scent of burning sage to tell her the powers were at their peak.
An intense tingling raised the hair on her arms and invisible flames danced across her skin. She lifted her fingers a fraction of an inch to raise the shutters, settling them on the landing above. A crash of metal on wood brought her out of the spell dancing across her brain. The man Bobbie called Justin stood staring at her. Mouth gaping, eyes wide with disbelief, he opened and closed his mouth several times to speak, but failed.
Tabatha offered a smile then walked to the next house, repeating the spell.
Ten minutes later all the shutters were stacked and waiting for the home’s owner to place them on the windows.
An unnatural silence surrounded Tabatha and every eye watched her approaching Agnes’ home.
No shutters lay on the ground in front of the woman’s home. No one worked to ready the house for the storm. No activity at all.
Tabatha knocked on the door. “Where are your shutters, Agnes?” No answer came. She knocked harder and more demanding. “Agnes? Ionna? Are you there?”
The door swung open. Agnes stood, wringing her hands, tears streaking down her dirty face. “It’s started.”
“We have time.” This was all Tabatha needed, Agnes to panic. “But we have to hurry. Where are your shutters?”
“Ionna!” Agnes turned wild eyes to look into the dark house. “It’s started.” Agnes looked right through Tabatha as if she didn’t see her.
“Ionna?” Tabatha rushed past Agnes, stopping to let her eyes adjust to the dank darkness of the house. “Damn, woman, don’t you own lights? I can’t see a thing.”
“We don’t need any lights, Outsider. Get out of my house,” Agnes shouted as if just realizing Tabatha had invaded her home. “You can’t help my Ionna.”
A low moan came from the far left side of the room. Tabatha stretched her arms in front of her toward the sound, finding Ionna on a pallet on the floor. A stack of sweat-soaked quilts and a lumpy pillow passed as the child’s bed.
“Agnes, is there a lamp or a window?” Frustration mounted in Tabatha’s gut. How could anyone live like this?
Tabatha threw open the window on the right wall, and got her first look at Ionna in the midday sunlight. The child’s fear-filled eyes were sunken into a pale face. Her lips trembled as she whimpered.
“I hurt, Miss Tabatha.” She rocked from side to side. “It feels like my skin is going to burst into flames. Can you help me?”
“No Outsider can help you, girl. You must bear this as we all have—the natural way. It’s God’s will.” Agnes lifted her chin, looked down her nose as if to defy Tabatha to rebuke her claim.
“Go get, Bobbie.” Tabatha tossed the soaked sheet off the girl. “Tell her to bring my backpack.”
Agnes stood her ground. “If God’s going to kill my baby, I gotta be strong. No Outsider can understand that.”
“If your daughter dies, it’ll be your fault for not doing anything.”
What the hell is wrong with this woman?
“Now, if you want to save Ionna, get your fat ass in gear and fetch Bobbie, and tell her to bring my bag. Now!”
Agnes jumped backward at the force of Tabatha’s command. She rushed out the door, all the while complaining that no one had the right to talk to her like that in her own house.
Looking around to find better bedding, maybe a cleaner bed, Tabatha got a better look at the condition of their living quarters. The floor was bare ground, no tile, linoleum, or wood planks, but bare hard dirt.
The walls appeared to be made of mud and straw. The only furniture in the room was an old kitchen table with three chairs. A cast iron stew pot sat in the center with plates of half eaten food sitting to one side. Flies buzzed in competition for the leftovers. Scents of spoiled food, burnt grease, and rotting blood, nearly caused Tabatha to vomit. To the rear of the room, two little boys under eight years old squatted on the dirt watching with curious eyes. Tabatha couldn’t remember seeing them playing with the other children. Her chest tightened with pity.
The larger of the two spoke bravely. “I’m Duff. This here is Lonny.” He nodded toward Ionna. “She gonna be all right? She only half-blood you know.”
“Yes, I know. But that’s okay with me. I love her anyway.” Tabatha tried to comfort the boys with a smile.
The smaller of the two pulled his thumb out of his mouth. “We love her.”
Though they were trying hard to be brave, Lonny’s chin quivered and Duff’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Why don’t you go outside and help the other men get ready for the storm? I bet Kangee would appreciate your help.”
Duff’s brow crinkled. “Momma will get mad. She don’t like us out of her sight.”
Tabatha smiled and glanced around the filthy room. “You’re out of her sight now, aren’t you?”
His eyes widened and a smile lifted his lips. “Why, you’re right. We are. Come on, Lonny. We need to be out there with the other men.” He took his brother’s hand and led him out the door.
“Ionna, can you hear me?” Tabatha picked up the girls arm and placed two fingers over the pulse point on her wrist, stared at her watch and counted.
The girl yanked her arm out of Tabatha’s grip and moaned.
“Answer me, honey.” Tabatha gently lifted Ionna’s black hair out of her eyes.
“Yes!” Ionna sat up slapping her hands over her ears. “Help me or get out. Your voice hurts. The light hurts. The air hurts.” She sobbed against her knees, rocking back and forth, whispering over and over, “Please help me, please help me, please.”
Bobbie ran into the room dropping Tabatha’s bag at her feet. “Is she okay? Fever? How much pain is she in? Is she rambling?”
“Yes, yes, a lot and no.” Tabatha grabbed her bag and dumped its contents on the ground.
“What are you looking for?” Bobbie lifted a couple of the containers and glanced at their labels.
“I had a bottle of Vicodin in here.” Tabatha scattered the contents out so she could see them better. “If she isn’t hurting, she may calm down. Her pulse is racing, and I can only imagine what her blood pressure must be. When the others have died while shifting, were there any autopsies?”
Bobbie shook her head. “No. We can’t have that happen, Tab. We’d be found out.”
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe they died of a stroke or heart failure?” Tabatha flung one item at a time back into the backpack. “Here they are.” She flipped the top off the bottle and shook out one pill. “You’re her pack leader, you want to give the pill to her or you want me to?”
“Agnes, get in here. They’re trying to poison Ionna.” Omeda stood in the doorway, a smile on her lips. “This will be your death, B
obbie. They’ll believe me over you and your Outsider friend.”
Chapter Seventeen
Heat rushed up Bobbie’s neck to her cheeks. She gritted her teeth and searched her brain for a loophole that would allow her to use her status as leader of the clan to beat the life out of Omeda right there and then. “What are you doing here? I thought I told you to leave.”
Omeda waved away the comment. “I’m not so easily disposed of, Queenie.”
Agnes pushed past Omeda and stood in the middle of the room. “What’s going on? Who’s trying to poison Ionna?”
Omeda adopted a horrified look to cover the smug gleam in her eyes and pointed at Tabatha. “The Outsider claims she has a miraculous pill that will make my dear cousin’s first shift a breeze. Tell me, Aunt Agnes, do you trust an Outsider to know what is right for her shifting body?”
Tabatha ran a critical gaze over the women standing in the doorway. “Even veterinarians give their patients medications. Maybe I can’t take all the suffering away, but wouldn’t any amount of release be a gift?”
“And you give her anything you happen to have in your bag?” Omeda was going for the Oscar, pouring the concern on thick. “Who are you to know what’s safe?”
Ionna rocked back and forth, moaning. “Momma.”
“You ain’t givin’ my daughter nothin’.” Agnes growled and lifted her chin. “She will have her shifting natural as God intended. She’s strong. She don’t need no Outsider’s medicine. I got willow tea, and I can talk her through it.”
“Yes, you were so successful with the others.” It was a cruel thing to say, Bobbie knew, and her heart broke for the woman as a sob escaped the mother’s throat, but she also knew Ionna’s best hope lay in Tabatha’s palm.
Bobbie stood between them. “The title ‘Doctor’ tacked onto her name wasn’t given to Tabatha as a gift. She can help.”
Agnes walked toward the bed, but stopped when Ionna bound forward and hissed at her with blood stained teeth.
Ionna’s trembling hand darted out to Tabatha’s, snatched the pill and tossed it into her mouth effectively stopping anyone from taking it from her.
