The Adversary

by Lindsay McKenna

  “No, sir, there isn’t. You have this wide path which is a trail that starts here at the hotel and goes to the northeast part of the lake. Then, there’s a second trail on the other side of the lake.” He gave them a warm smile. “Why do you want to hike around all of the lake?”

  “Because we want to,” Colt growled.

  Shelly frowned at Colt’s tone. He was clearly uncomfortable. Why? She didn’t know, but she trusted his instincts. She decided to lie. “I’m a photographer of wildflowers, Trip. The lakes up here are pretty much free of brush on the shore and it makes it easy for me to walk and hunt.” Shelly wanted Nelson to assume they were just a couple of tourists on holiday.

  “Ah, I see,” Trip murmured with geniality. “Well, you’re right. These are glacier lakes and when the Ice Age came through here ten thousand years ago, all the lakes were changed. As the ice melted, millions of stones that had been ground up were dropped in this region.” He gestured toward the bank. “There’s little sand and hardly any soil around the lakes. Just enough to encourage grass, bushes or trees to thrive near the banks without barring your way to the shore. You’ll find some wildflowers as a result.”

  “So, it should be pretty easy to walk around the opposite part of the lake on this side?” Colt asked.

  “Well—”

  “We can rent a canoe, Colt. That will be the easier thing to do.”

  “Good idea!” Trip smiled and pointed toward the marina down about a quarter of a mile. “You can rent a canoe by the hour. It won’t be difficult to paddle into this area—” and he tapped the map with his index finger “—and look for flowers along the shore. Besides, the canoe can carry all your photo equipment. It’s an easy way to scour the shoreline.”

  “Great, that’s what we’ll do,” Shelly said, smiling fully.

  Trip folded up the map. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” Black glared at him with such venom that Victor decided he’d had enough for the day. The Navajo medicine man had one hand balled into a fist at his side. Victor didn’t want to start a fight. Clearly, Black was picking up something or he wouldn’t be so damned threatening. Best to leave.

  “You can go,” Colt said with authority. Of all the people Trip Nelson could have zeroed in on, he wondered, why them? There were hundreds of people walking up and down the sidewalk around the lakeshore. Why had he chosen them? Colt gave Trip an intense look and opened himself up more than he should. By opening up, Colt could assess a person’s aura far better, but it left him vulnerable. Reminding himself he had the white-light protection, Colt risked it.

  Shelly gave Trip a smile. “Thanks for all your great info, Trip. We’ve got to get going.”

  Victor grunted inwardly. This Indian was actually probing his aura! He could feel the fingerlike projections poking into the energy layers around him. Under normal circumstances, Victor would kill a person who tried this on him, but he couldn’t now. He needed to escape from Black. Trip scrambled lithely up the rocky slope. “Well, if there is anything else, I’m always here. My job is to help our hotel guests get the most out of their visit.”

  Victor turned away. His mind was spinning with questions. He glanced back to see the Navajo medicine man glaring at him, his mouth set. This was one dangerous Taqe. The double ring birthmark on his neck meant he was a Warrior for the Light. Victor heaved a sigh of relief. While it was true he had more power than Black, this was neither the time nor place to unveil it. He needed these two to help find the next sphere.

  Walking quickly toward the hotel, Victor wondered why the pair would want to circumnavigate the entire coastline of Lake Louise. Were those two boulders located around here? He slowed and turned on the other side of the path, hidden by groups of tourists. The Taqe were walking toward the marina. Scratching his head, Victor figured the emerald sphere was closer than he thought. What did the Taqe know that he didn’t?

  Ordinarily, he could dig into anyone’s mind and telepathically root through the contents without a problem. However, Black had thrown up a defensive perimeter. Of all the bad luck—this guy was a superb warrior. That complicated things a great deal.

  Lothar and Jeff joined him.

  “Anything, my lord?” Lothar demanded.

  With a shake of his head, Victor told them what had transpired. When he mentioned Black’s power and defensiveness, both men’s brows rose in surprise.

  “That’s a bad sign,” Lothar said, unhappy. “The Vesica Pisces Foundation is sending in their best soldiers.”

  Snorting, Victor grimaced. “Warriors are testy. And Black was this close—” he held up his thumb and index finger “—to hitting me. He knew something was very wrong with Trip Nelson.”

  “Do you think he figured it out?” Jeff asked.

  Shaking his head, Victor muttered, “No, but I can’t go up to him again or he may put it together. We can’t risk that.”

  “Poking into your aura must have felt uncomfortable,” Lothar said.

  “Not exactly fun,” Victor agreed. “The fact he’d even do it tells me he’s fearless in the face of danger.”

  “Is it possible that he was trying to goad you into a fight to see who you really were?” Jeff wondered.

  “Possibly,” Victor said.

  Lothar gave the student a warning look. “You never do that to someone else’s aura. That’s assault, pure and simple.”

  “Do you think Black knew your aura was beneath that outer one, my lord?” Jeff asked.

  “Who knows?” Victor growled. “He caught me off guard with that maneuver. But there was little I could do about it except get the hell out of there.”

  “If you’d allowed him, would he have found your real aura by poking around like that?” Jeff wondered.

  “Absolutely,” Lothar said. “It would be a dead giveaway if he had broken through the fields of that first aura.”

  “Yes,” Victor muttered, “and wouldn’t he have been surprised to find me hidden in there?”

  They all chuckled and nodded.

  “Perhaps the sphere is hidden where there is a patch of wildflowers?” Lothar wondered.

  “That doesn’t make sense. It’s a cover. I could see the telltale colors of a lie in her aura.”

  Jeff looked at the two older spirits. He gazed at the turquoise lake. “Is it possible the sphere is in the water near the shore?”

  “Anything is possible,” Victor said.

  “Then all we can do is follow them,” Jeff said.

  Lothar tapped a pair of binoculars hung around his neck. “We will—from a distance. Let’s hope they do their hiking in the daylight and sleep at night. Makes it easier on us.”

  Victor cursed softly and continued to watch the pair. Eventually, they disappeared into the crowds along the walk. Turning, he said, “Lothar, Jeff, go rent a canoe. Keep close enough to them without rousing suspicion. Watch what they do and where they go.”

  Jeff wanted to rub his hands together in joy but refrained. He had been an Iowa farm boy growing up in the 1920s and 1930s. His parents had owned a huge grain farm near a lake. He’d had a canoe, and, during the spring and summer, he’d fished all the time. This mission was turning out to be wonderful in so many ways for him.

  “Jeff?” Lothar snapped. “Where’s your head, boy? Come on!”

  Caught red-handed, Jeff saw Victor’s flat, black eyes narrow upon him. “Coming,” he called.

  “Stay alert!” Victor snarled at the young Tupay.

  Jeff leaped toward Lothar, stung by the Dark Lord’s warning. How anyone could remain immune to the beauty of this world was beyond him. He thought about his family and wished he had time to peek in on how they were doing. It was his favorite thing to do on a given day at the Tupay fortress. With this mission, it was impossible to check in. His granddaughter, Mary Anderson, the one who was an artist and quilt designer, was going on a trip to Edinburgh, Scotland. She had been hired by the town to give a series of workshops on her famous quilt designs. Hurrying, he caught up with Lothar and grinned
.

  “I can hardly wait to climb into a canoe.”

  Scowling, Lothar said, “You’re like an excitable puppy. Calm down, will you?”

  How could he? Jeff saw this as fun, not work. He would savor the canoe trip. The water was smooth out there, a slight breeze and warm sunlight embracing him. Right now, he felt as though he’d walked into heaven.

  Chapter 5

  “Why didn’t you like Trip Nelson?” Shelly walked at Colt’s side as they moved toward the canoe-rental wharf. People flowed around them on the warm, beautiful afternoon. Jays shrieked in trees near the sidewalk, looking for handouts from the tourists. Squirrels and chipmunks also kept an eager watch from the sides of the path.

  Colt cut her a glance. Shelly seemed so damned innocent in his dark world. “I got a red flag on him.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “My hair stood up on end. Any time that happens, it signals danger to me.”

  “Did you see his aura? It looked okay to me.” She enjoyed his nearness. Colt was tall, lean and walked with a fluid grace. Even more palpable was her womanly desire for him. He was mysterious and unapproachable. Worse, he was utterly masculine and dangerous in a sensual kind of way. She couldn’t stop looking at his mouth. Usually, it was pursed, the corners drawn in. When he relaxed, it was a mouth worth kissing. And kissing again. Where was all of this heat coming from? Frustrated with herself, she tried to ignore that aspect of him, but it was proving impossible.

  “There was murkiness in his astral field. You didn’t see that?” Inwardly, Colt kicked himself. His gaze drifted from her widened eyes down to that wide, soft mouth of hers. Did she know how tempting she really was to him?

  Shelly shrugged. “I agree, it was murky, but nothing too unusual.”

  Colt noticed the slight shadows beneath her eyes and added, “Why don’t we go down to rent a canoe for tomorrow afternoon?” No sense in pursuing this line of talk.

  “I like that plan,” Shelly said. She knew so little about Colt and she had so many questions. A crazy dream had brought them together: two strangers from two very different worlds. Yet she felt an inexplicable hunger for him. He was composed of incredibly powerful energy. No question he was a warrior, and his cowboy clothes only emphasized his rugged face and nature. All were appealing to her as a woman.

  Colt cupped her elbow and steered her through the people to the booth on the bank next to the canoe-docking facility. “Let’s do that.” He didn’t ignore his flesh tingling as he made contact with Shelly. For an instant, Colt saw desire clearly written in her wide hazel eyes. Was she attached? There was no wedding ring on her finger. Not that this was at all relevant to their assignment. He needed to find out more about her.

  Her skin tingled pleasantly to his grazing, guiding touch. Shelly wanted excuses just to touch Colt. At the rental booth, he dropped his hand. In no time, they had a red canoe rented for 3:00 p.m. tomorrow. Ticket in hand, he walked her out onto the wide wooden wharf. Colorful canoes were tied to either side of the one-hundred-foot-long area. To Shelly, they reminded her of a rainbow. She wished she had brought her camera. Her Nikon D3 was back in her room, but she promised herself to bring it along with her tomorrow.

  As they stood at the end of the dock appreciating the colors of Lake Louise, the tourists out paddling around in rented canoes, Shelly picked up their earlier conversation. “When I saw darkness or dirty colors in his astral field, I thought Trip was probably upset about something.”

  Shrugging, Colt enjoyed the sunlit warmth on his body. The wind was light and playful. Best of all, Shelly was standing next to him. He liked the way the breeze lifted strands of her hair. There were many colors among the threads with the sunlight dancing across her hair. He wanted to slide his fingers through those strands of gold shimmering with copper and burgundy highlights. She was incredibly beautiful and his heart opened to her. Though, for now, he forced himself to address her statement. “In my experience, the astral body field is changing from minute to minute depending upon what we’re feeling at that time.”

  “How do you know all these things?” Shelly finally asked. She watched a family of four, the mother in the bow and the father at the stern, paddling a green canoe toward them. The two children, both towheads and probably around six and seven, were happily splashing their hands into the lake water. “That was the only fly in the ointment I could see in Trip Nelson’s aura, Colt. I figured he was scared of something. The brownish-red color around his solar plexus tells me he feared something. Maybe us?” She glanced up at him. His beautifully shaped mouth was pursed, his brows drawn down as he considered her remarks.

  “I’m a medicine man of the Navajo nation,” he said abruptly. “My father taught me how to read auras from the time I was a child. When Nelson walked up to us, his field showed fear. You always look for what is out of place.”

  A medicine man. Well, that answered why Colt was incredibly clairvoyant and could see auras. “You were pretty abrupt with him, but not threatening enough to cause the kind of darkness I saw in his astral field,” she countered.

  “I was abrupt because the hair on the back of my neck stood up.” He almost added, And if you don’t pay attention to subtle warnings like that, you can get killed. Obviously, they lived in different worlds.

  “I wonder if he’s been possessed,” Shelly murmured.

  Colt held her upturned, searching stare. Her red lashes framed her wide, hazel eyes. The pupils were large and black. He felt as if he could fall into her gaze and happily drown, a fulfilled man. Tearing his thoughts away from the personal, he said, “Skin Walkers possess people in my culture. They’re men who practice witchcraft and are shape-shifters. They turn themselves into coyotes and then hunt for some unsuspecting Navajo who made the mistake of being out after dark. And once the humans are possessed, they are dead after the Skin Walker is done with them.”

  “Oh…” Shelly said, feeling a coldness within her. “That sounds…awful….”

  “It is,” Colt said. “The Navajo taken over by the Skin Walker is still inside his body, but the witch is in control of him or her. And when the Skin Walker is done with them, he leaves their body and cuts the silver cord. Their spirit is released and the person dies. It’s not pretty.”

  Shelly gulped. “I—I’ve never seen anything like that happen. I feel like a neophyte around you, Colt. I’m just not into sorcery or evil.” And suddenly, Shelly was glad the grim-looking cowboy was on this mission with her. He didn’t look like a medicine man, but rather, a wrangler who might work at one of the dude ranches outside Banff.

  “The problem is your dream told you there was danger, a sorcerer. In my culture that equates to a witch who creates spells and curses or a witch who can shape-shift into a Skin Walker,” Colt said, frustrated. “I don’t know how to read Nelson. If a Skin Walker had him, I’d know it in an instant. But this is a different energy and I don’t understand what I was sensing. All we can do is watch, listen to our feelings and keep this guy away from us as we search the shore of this lake.”

  Shelly was sobered by Colt’s knowledge…and profoundly shaken. “My gut tells me that wherever these two boulders are you’ll find a vortex. Did your father teach you about vortexes, too?”

  “We don’t call them vortexes. For us, they are simply areas of energy.”

  There were many benches on either side of the thirty-foot-wide wharf. Impulsively, Shelly slid her hand into his. It was strong, warm, callused from hard work. She looked up, saw the surprise and then desire in his eyes. Again, a sense of danger surrounded her. It was a risk worth taking. Shelly drew him to the last bench. “Come and sit down with me for a moment.” She pleaded with him when he hesitated. Clearly, he wanted her and the feeling was mutual. There was a lot to be scared of, but she couldn’t help but be excited.

  Just getting to touch Shelly was a pleasure for Colt and he gently squeezed her fingers in return. If she were married, she wouldn’t have touched him. And the warmth, the invitation, was in her eyes, too. As they sat down c
lose to one another, Colt reluctantly released her hand. If he didn’t, well, he’d turn and kiss her senseless. His alertness would be dulled, just in time for Yellow Teeth to strike. Skin Walkers were good at catching their prey off guard.

  “Okay,” he said, getting back to business. “We need to understand one another’s psychic abilities. What strengths and weakness do we have?”

  “All right,” Shelly said, moving away from him, to the other end of the bench. Colt was too close, too raw and natural for her to keep her hands in her lap for long. “Here we are, two strangers who have come together because of mutual dreams. I know so little about you.”

  “I was born on the Navajo reservation. I’ve lived there my entire life. My father has trained me to be a medicine man like himself. Healing runs in our family.”

  “You have a wife and kids?”

  Pursing his lips, he said, “No, I’m not married. What about you?” There, the question was out.

  “No. I’m single and unattached. I live just outside the park in Canmore.” She frowned for a moment. “I’m a writer. I wrote a book on vortexes. That’s my claim to fame. Normally, I’m on the road, traveling around the world giving workshops on how to find a vortex and what to do with it once you do find one.”

  As Colt took in this new information, he continued to look around. He sensed Yellow Teeth just on the edges of his periphery, but he didn’t want to scare Shelly or show her just how distracted she was. “You’re Canadian?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She saw him digesting the information. And then, Colt was once more looking around. “I feel you so on guard. What’s the matter?” Her voice went off pitch. “Are we in danger?”

  “There’s a Skin Walker named Yellow Teeth who would very much like to possess and kill me,” Colt told her. He saw Shelly’s eyes go wide and her lips part. Then she caught herself and tried to be all right with the information, but Colt knew it had shocked her.