by Dani Harper
“The Ahtna tribe have occupied the territory where I’m digging since before the pyramids were built,” Kenzie said. “That makes it exactly right for what I’m looking for.”
Nate peered around. Kenzie was flushed with excitement and he caught the faintest scent of it even through the paint fumes. She was a beautiful woman, something that work clothes and dirt could never hide. When she spoke about her work, however, it was as if something inside her lit up. She was vibrant, animated, alive. Dammit, if he could just get her to light up like that in front of an audience of potential sponsors ... but right now, she shone for the tall human male she was with and Nate would’ve liked nothing better than to tear the guy’s throat out. He counted slowly to ten, then thirty, then a hundred, holding on to control with his fingernails.
“Among the Ahtna, as with many peoples who live close to nature, all animals were revered and had to be properly thanked for providing food and clothing to the hunter.”
“Good Karma. It’s the same in our clans. Respect for the animal that gives its life so that yours can continue, gratitude for what is provided.”
“Yeah, but the wolf was honored even more and for a specific reason. Ahtna legends are very clear about a time when there was no separation between human and animal.”
The man whistled low, a sound which grated on Nate’s already-stretched nerves. “So men and beasts were of equal importance.”
“Absolutely. Among the Ahtna, it was forbidden to kill a wolf. It was one of the worst crimes you could possibly commit and there had to be an atonement made to prevent the rest of the wolves from exacting justice. The wolf’s body had to be dressed in clothing and placed in a house. The shaman then had to prepare not just food but an entire banquet for the dead wolf. Do you know why?”
She was pacing now, using her hands as she talked, and Nate breathed a little easier that the guy was no longer touching her. He thanked all of his lucky stars that it was nearly closing time and there was no one else left in this display wing, no one to see him leaning his back against the pillar, shaking and sweating. No one to ask him if he was all right and dial up 911. No one to interrupt him as he fought to keep control of his inner beast.
“I’m guessing it got special treatment just in case it wasn’t really a wolf. In case it was a Changeling.”
Nate was shocked, the surprise helping to clear his head. This guy knew that Changelings existed! But did he also know that Kenzie was one? Nate couldn’t imagine her ever revealing such a dangerous secret to a human. She liked humans, but she had never trusted them a bit. Remembering that, his inner wolf finally settled down. It simply wasn’t possible for her to be in a close relationship with this guy, not possible for her to be more than good buddies with him. Nate snorted. Yeah, she kept that goddamn just friends sign firmly between her and everybody it seemed. It was long past time he tore it down ...
Kenzie was still talking. “The Ahtna were isolated until the 1880s. I’m—Nate!”
He walked smoothly up to her, yanked her close and kissed her, hard. He might have expected the fist to his chin, but he was surprised that she put so much into it. Almost as if she meant it. Almost, because although a human would have been out cold, the blow wasn’t enough to faze a Changeling.
“Quit that, you idiot!”
It was exactly how he imagined she’d speak to one of her brothers, and that bothered him more than the punch. He gave her a quick squeeze, kissing her hand before he released her, then turned his gaze on the stranger she was with. He allowed his inner wolf—firmly leashed at last but still furious—to glare through his eyes. Made certain, however, that all Kenzie saw was a big smile. She might be able to sense his real mood, but maybe he could keep her off-base with his trademark charm. “Great to see you, babe. Who’s your pal?”
The pal, he noted, was one cool customer. Most humans would have at least backed up a step but if this guy was bothered in the slightest by Nate’s possessive display, he declined to show it. Playing poker with him would be a serious mistake, Nate decided. Kenzie, however, smoothly glided away from Nate and took the man’s arm.
“Josh, this is my friend, Nate Richardson. He’s an archaeologist too. We went to school together and shared a lot of digs,” she said. “Nate, Josh Talarkoteen. Fish and Game officer.”
They shook hands, and Nate couldn’t resist exerting a slightly more than human grip. Josh didn’t flinch or blink, however. Nate resorted to a different tactic to try to get a rise out of him. “Talarkoteen, eh? I don’t think we have any Tahltan artifacts here—a Canadian tribe, aren’t you?” He purposely allowed the tiniest hint of disdain into his words but it backfired when Kenzie was the one to take offense.
“Something wrong with Canadians, Nate?”
He could have kicked himself—he was off his game, that was certain. Why couldn’t he have remembered that her family lived in some boring little town in northern Alberta? He’d never met them, of course. He’d always refused to go home with her on the few breaks she’d taken when they were in school together, preferring to stay in the Big Apple or head off to Vegas. Maybe that had been a mistake. Maybe if he’d made nice with her family, charmed them over to his side, then Kenzie would now be on his arm, where she belonged. Well, he’d just have to fix that ... Meanwhile, he had to rescue the present situation.
“Not a gosh darn thing. They’ve given the world hockey, great beer, and you, babe.”
She rolled her eyes and he relaxed.
“So, do you work here in Alaska?” asked Josh.
“New York, actually. I’m the head of the ancient studies department at NYU.” Nate always enjoyed the way it rolled off his tongue. Someday—soon he hoped—being able to say he was the college president would sound even better. “Just setting up digs for my students and begging for donations. It costs a lot to run a world-class program like ours.”
“You must know Professor Higby at the university here.”
Too well. Higby hated him. They’d almost come to blows a week ago, when Higby accused him of stealing a major donor away from his project. Nate had done exactly that, of course, but he figured all was fair in love and corporate funding. “I’m sure I’ve met the man, of course. But I can’t recall his face at the moment.” Time to change strategy. “Well, I’ve been in meetings all day and worked up an appetite. Why don’t we go to dinner together—my treat. Josh and I can get to know each other and Kenzie can finish what she was saying about the Ahtna tribe. It sounded fascinating.”
“You were eavesdropping?” A faint frown appeared between her brows and he waved a hand as if trying to sweep away her concern.
“I heard your gorgeous voice in here, babe. I just naturally caught some of your sparkling dissertation as I approached.” Nate said to Josh, “Kenzie is the hands-down expert when it comes to truly ancient culture. I don’t know how you talked her into mingling with modern civilization. She usually hates the city.” And wouldn’t accept his own invitation, he thought with no small amount of resentment, but that would change. That would definitely change.
“I had no choice,” she said wryly. “A damn bear destroyed my camp and all my supplies.”
His eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. “Good God, Kenzie. I’m glad you’re okay. How the hell did a bear manage to sneak up on you?”
“I’ve been a little preoccupied lately.”
“I can see that,” he said, nodding his head toward Talarkoteen.
“Josh has been helping me. I called him when I found an orphaned wolf cub at my dig. As it turns out, though, she’s not a wolf.”
For a moment he thought he’d gone stone deaf. Kenzie’s lips were moving and he wasn’t hearing anything. Only three words that repeated in his brain like a mantra—not a wolf, not a wolf, not a wolf.
“Nate, are you okay?”
He came to himself and blinked at her. “I’m sorry. I’m just, well, shocked I guess. I thought you said you found a Changeling—”
“Child. Yeah, it was a sho
ck to me too. She just turned up at my camp.”
Kenzie related the details and Nate had to work to keep an expression of concern on his face instead of the excitement he was feeling. It was too good to be true. Way too good. “So she claims her name is Anya,” he said aloud. “That might be a made-up name, maybe a name from a storybook or something—kids do that, you know. My little cousin Morgan insisted her name was Jasmine for two years, from the character in her favorite Disney movie. And you still have no idea where this kid belongs?”
“Not until she tells us. She won’t say anything else using mindspeech, and so far she refuses to resume her human form. So we’re stuck looking for clues. You meet a lot of people all the time, Nate—have you ever run into any Changelings up here? Anyone you can ask?”
“Sure, I can put out some feelers,” he began. “I think there’s a pack over by—”
Josh interrupted then. “Make that discreet feelers. We don’t know what kind of situation Anya came out of. And we’re not letting anyone have her back without a helluva good reason as to why this little girl was left alone in the middle of nowhere.”
“Naturally I’ll be careful.” Nate put on his most sincere face, the one that assured potential sponsors they were helping to uncover history and thereby becoming part of it. “But please tell me the poor kid’s not alone in the middle of nowhere right now. I mean, you didn’t bring her with you, did you?”
It was satisfying to see Talarkoteen’s eyes flash but it was Kenzie who answered. “As if we’d abandon her, Nate! A friend of Josh’s is staying at the site with Anya until we get back on Friday. She’s being well looked after.”
He put up his hands, palms out. “Of course—I was just concerned. The kid has to have been through a lot, she needs to be protected, that’s all.” Nate looked at his watch then. “Good God. I know I suggested dinner, but I have to meet with a sponsor. You know how it is with fund-raising—a schmoozer’s work is never done. I’ll call you later, babe.” He reached for Kenzie, fully intending to give her an even better kiss than the last one just to piss off Talarkoteen. She wasn’t caught off guard this time though and turned her head so he had to kiss her cheek. That was fine, though, she couldn’t spoil his mood and besides, he was confident he’d collect a hell of a lot more than just a kiss later. Much later.
Right now he had a phone call to make.
Josh didn’t see Nate leave. Didn’t hear Kenzie apologize for his behavior or hear the voice over the sound system announce that the museum was closing in fifteen minutes. Was unaware of everything—except for the tiny figure next to a far white wall.
Suddenly the sounds of children playing, shouts and laughter, surrounded him. He glanced down past his dusty pilot’s jumpsuit to his boots in the sand, felt the heat of the Afghan sun, inhaled the dry air and looked back at the little girl in the red and green tunic. Her shawl had fallen loose from her long dark hair and she was bright-eyed and laughing. Two other children ran past her and then it struck him—
This was before.
“Get down!” he shouted and leapt forward but he’d barely made it ten yards before the blast came. The concussion knocked him to the ground, where he clapped his hands over the terrible pain in his ears and fought to suck in a breath past the sand in his mouth. His insides felt like they’d been kicked repeatedly, his ribs had to be broken, had to be ... then his brain switched back on and he struggled to raise his head.
Where was she? The clouds of dust obscured everything and he was half-buried in debris. It was eerily silent, or maybe he was deaf. He spat and sucked in a little more air, which cleared his head somewhat. The dust cleared too, and the courtyard came back into focus. The once-smooth white wall was dirty, the concrete pocked with holes and sprayed with lines of blood. Below it was a little red and green heap—
He jumped up and lunged forward, tripping and falling. Someone tried to grab his arm but he shook them off and kept going. He had to get to her, he had to help her, but the image faded as he got closer.
By the time he reached the wall, the damaged white concrete had become smooth wood panels. The shrapnel holes, the blood, all gone. She was gone.
Josh. Josh, it’s all right. Come back now.
He heard the voice behind him, a voice that didn’t belong in this time and place. His battered brain registered vaguely that he wasn’t deaf after all. He also clued in that he wasn’t in goddamn Afghanistan.
Oh, fuck.
He sank to the floor where the little girl had been standing—where he had imagined her standing—and leaned his head back against the wall. He saw Kenzie approach cautiously, concern on her face and that little frown between her brows that he’d love to rub his lips over. Not that she’d let him do that anytime soon. Not after this. Shit.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” he replied. Damned if his throat didn’t feel scratched and raw from sand and dust.
“Are you here now, Josh? Do you know where you are?”
“In a museum with a pretty woman who probably thinks I’m screwed in the head.”
“Your head is just fine.”
He eyed her, suddenly furious and ready to lash out at the slightest show of pity. That wasn’t what he saw in her gaze and the anger stepped down a few notches.
“Wanna punch something?” she asked. “There’s a stuffed polar bear by the front door. It’s taller than you so it’d be fair.”
He doubted that punching a live polar bear would drain the chaotic emotions that were swamping him. She offered him a hand but he brushed it aside and got up. Took a deep breath and wished for a goddamn beer.
“Everything okay with you folks?” A museum security guard appeared. “Mister, you don’t look so good.”
Josh waved a hand and borrowed a page from Stanton. “Just a little low blood sugar is all. Got a bit dizzy.”
“The gift shop’s got some candy bars if you need one. The museum’s closing now but the shop stays open a little later for last minute customers. Right by the front door.”
“Thanks,” said Kenzie. She put her arm through Josh’s as if he was escorting her, but in reality, she was both supporting him and leading him. On one level he was fascinated by her Changeling strength. On a more basic level, he hated that he needed it. Hated that they weren’t going to have the evening he’d planned for them, hated that they were going straight to the damn hotel because he was in no shape to do anything else.
Hated most of all that she had seen him in full flashback mode. No way in hell she’d feel anything but sorry for him now.
Chapter Twelve
The rush hour had passed and traffic was light as Kenzie drove them to their hotel. Josh didn’t feel much like talking but he was impressed that she remembered how to get there, even though he had been driving when they’d checked in to their rooms the night before. But then she was smart—not one but two doctorates. Way too smart to hang around with him and he should have damn well known better from the start. Resigned, he scooped up a double armful of her shopping bags—despite her protest—and followed her inside to her room, where he set them on her bed. To his surprise, she blocked him as he turned to leave.
“Sit. Relax a minute.”
“I’m fine.” He tried to brush past her but she put out a hand.
“I’m not. Please sit.”
Reluctantly, Josh backed into the bed and sat down harder than he intended to. God, he was tired. The flashbacks (hot memories as his counselor had called them) often left him physically exhausted as well as emotionally wrung out. Kenzie produced a large bottle of water from the mini-fridge and he drained most of it. It hadn’t been desert dust but the damn adrenaline that had left his mouth and throat dry as cardboard. Now they felt like wet cardboard, but still, it was a step up.
“Better?”
He nodded.
“Good. Now tell me what’s wrong.”
“What’s wrong?” Without warning, he was angry again. He didn’t want to be angry and that fact just pis
sed him off more, pushed him back to his feet. His voice rose. “You were in Anchorage and I was in Afghanistan. That’s what’s wrong.”
She just shrugged, as if they’d been talking about the weather. As if he hadn’t been all but shouting at her. “I figured that out when you yelled at someone I couldn’t see to get down. I’m not asking about that. I’m talking about right now. I want to know why you’ve got this hang-dog attitude going on. We had a great day together and now you won’t even look at me.”
A dozen emotions rampaged through his brain, but it was the anger again that won out, snapping his head around so he was eye to eye with her. “You’re too smart and too beautiful to be hanging around with somebody who’s messed up. You don’t need a head case, so get out of my way.”
He got up and took a step toward the door but didn’t get any further. Those gorgeous gray eyes leveled a look that could have pinned him to the nearest wall.
“First of all, I’ll decide what I need and what I want, and I’m right where I want to be,” she said. “Second of all, if you’re feeling guilty or embarrassed or some crap like that, you can just drop it right now.”
He stared at her. It wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting and he didn’t have a clue how to respond.
“And third, everybody’s messed up about something,” she continued. “Trust me on that one, I’m an anthropologist. What counts is how you handle it and what you do with it. And right now, you don’t have to do a single damn thing except relax.”
His anger fizzled out like firecrackers in the rain. He unclenched his fists—he hadn’t even known he’d closed them—and sat down on the bed again.
