HOTSHOT BROTHERS: Coyote Shifters

by Hunt, Sabrina

That drawing wasn’t the first time I’d drawn Kalin, but it was the first time I’d done it from life. Her face was one I’d never tire of gazing at. She wasn’t a straightforward, typical kind of beauty, and I loved that. Her face was expressive, striking, and somehow, a little mysterious.

  Flipping the notebook shut, I made my way back to the porch stairs and sat down. I’d meant to check the perimeter again, make sure nothing had been sniffing around last night that shouldn’t have been. But I’d go in a minute. I was suddenly feeling oddly fatigued and closed my eyes, tipping my face to the sun.

  “Are you out here drawing or taking a sunbath?” Kalin asked, banging open the porch door, and padding towards me. I opened my eyes and smiled lazily at her. “Here, brought you some water.”

  I took it from her, then as she was about to go back inside, said, “Hey, no, wait. Come here, sit with me. It’s nice out.”

  “If you’re drawing, I don’t want to disturb you,” she said, her voice suddenly unsure.

  “Disturb me?” Letting my head fall back, I shook it at her. “Never.”

  “Alright,” Kalin plopped down next to me. “What are you thinking about doing today?”

  “Me? Nothing in particular. I may not move my ass from this spot in fact,” I said.

  She was sitting one step above mine and leaned her body into me. “So, who taught you how to draw? Did you go to art school? Oh no, military huh?”

  Inhaling that warm, dessert-like scent of her, I nodded. “My parents were both artists. Musicians, too. My whole childhood was filled with color and music. We lived in the Warehouse District of New Orleans. You could always smell that heavy, salty smell of ocean in the morning, bakeries, and hear street music, people laughing as they walked by.”

  Kalin pressed her cheek into my shoulder. “I love the way you tell stories,” she said.

  Feeling a little self-conscious, I coughed a little. “What about you? I don’t think you ever told me how you got into photography.”

  “Oh, um… It’s kind of a weird story.” I nudged her and Kalin flushed. “Okay, so my family isn’t exactly rich. It’s why we liked to go camping for vacation, it’s cheap. Not that we ever minded, who doesn’t love going out into the wilderness? But we could never afford anything beyond those cheap disposable cameras. So our photos were always so bland, bright memories washed out… And it frustrated me because I could remember there being so much more color, so much more life…”

  She paused, then went on, “Plus, I was always obsessed with saving the planet. I think it was partially just being a Californian growing up in a liberal city… But as a child, I remember being shocked to my core to find out about pollution. It didn’t make sense. And I don’t think I ever got over it. Like, this is our home, and we’re poisoning it?”

  I nodded, commiserating. “Believe me, I understand.”

  “Yeah, so I was always involved with community gardens and arbor days, all that. Then I remembered seeing these gorgeous photos in like National Geographic and thinking, why can’t my photos come out that nice? And my parents had to explain about different cameras and the software, so I started to save up. I must have been fourteen, maybe a little younger.

  “Saved up for two years, scraping pennies together sometimes, birthday money, Christmas. Then I bought myself a Nikon. Sixteen years old with a camera that cost fifteen hundred dollars.” She let out a rueful laugh. “I was so excited to start taking pictures…”

  “Did you break it?” I asked, turning to look at her.

  She shook her head, looking amused. “Trini did. Not on purpose. She had her boyfriend over and wanted to see how she looked in this new dress, so she had him try to take it. But he couldn’t figure out the buttons, and she got annoyed at him, jerking it out of his hands, and it smashed on our little back patio. At first, Trini didn’t think it was a big deal, but our mother flipped out.”

  “What did you say?” I asked, grinning a little, anticipating an epic Kalin temper.

  “Ha, smirking at me like I went nuclear. Well, for your information, I didn’t. I was too heartbroken. I just murmured at Trini that it was fine, it was whatever, and maybe I wasn’t met to take photographs after all. So I threw it away. That had been a hard year – very awkward phase of puberty,” Kalin cleared her throat, then laughed. “I was a late bloomer.”

  “That’s it?” I asked, puzzled. “What, did you come back to it later, then?”

  “No.” Kalin’s hand rubbed up my back. “Trini got hysterical after seeing me so devastated. Not in front of me, but with my parents. But she was in college and dead broke. She begged them to buy me a new one and said she’d pay them back – but my dad was between jobs, so they couldn’t.”

  A long sigh exuded from her. “I still can’t believe she did this – I found out years later – but she went and sold a bunch of her clothes. Trini used to hit up old thrift stores and find designer pieces and fix them up. It took her years to create a collection. And she sold most of them – all to buy me a new camera. A better one.”

  “You Montero girls,” I said, whistling appreciatively.

  Kalin smiled at me. “Well, the rest is history. I started taking pictures all the time, got into CalArts on a scholarship – using a picture of my sister hugging a tree in fact – and that’s that. I just love how you can snag these little moments in time and show the world places they might forget about otherwise, you know? Remind people there’s big sequoias and bear cubs still in the world.”

  “You know, I love the way you tell stories,” I said in a teasing voice.

  “Oh, shut up.” Kalin bumped me with her shoulder. “We can’t all be tersely poetic.”

  “Is that what you think of me?” I frowned. “I think I preferred macho jackass.”

  “Stop! Shut up!” Kalin exclaimed, putting her hands over her face. “I still feel awful about that.” Then she lowered her hands and shot me a look. “How did you hear me, anyways?”

  “What?” I asked, confused.

  “You were all the way across the parking lot, Wes. You do that all the time, actually. Like, how is your hearing so damn good?”

  I shrugged. “I think the wind was blowing towards me. And as for good hearing, I don’t know, never went to concerts, try to avoid using headphones…”

  “You think that’s why you’re so stealthy?” Kalin leaned forward, her eyes crinkling up. “I’ve never known such a big guy to move like a damn ballerina.”

  “Ballerina? Poetic?” I snorted. “Jeez, you’re feeling generous this morning.”

  “It’s just funny how apt a nickname ‘Stealth’ really is,” she continued on, musing. “Cree, being fast, is Quickfoot, and then Ben is Doc because of the healing thing–” Jerking upright, an odd look crossed Kalin’s face. “Huh, I never thought about that before.”

  Shrugging, I tried to keep my eyes on her, knowing that would be a dead giveaway. “We had those before,” I stumbled, realizing I’d just plunged into the territory I’d most wanted to avoid, “before we even knew each other,” I finished lamely. It wasn’t a complete lie.

  She gave me a dubious look, but then tapped my sketchbook bag. “You ever draw people?”

  “Yes,” I said in relieved rush. “All the time. Love drawing faces.”

  “You should draw me,” Kalin said eagerly, sliding down a step so she was next to me, and gazing up at me. “I’d really love that, Wes.”

  My face froze in an awkward grin. Oh, shit. “Oh, sure, um…” I tried to think of a reason to not do it and utterly failed. I wasn’t sure why, but I didn’t want Kalin to see any drawing of her by me.

  Maybe because it will tell her all the things you’re not saying, whispered a voice in my head.

  “I mean, you don’t have to,” Kalin’s voice suddenly sounded strained and I looked down to see a look of mortification crossing her face. “I mean, I know I snooped before, but your landscapes were so gorgeous…” She trailed off and I remembered that hot flash of panic that had erupted in me when
I’d seen her with my sketchbook.

  Somehow I’d known she hadn’t seen the sketches I’d done of her, though. But after that, I’d kept that bag with me almost at all times.

  Kalin was now murmuring, “And then the stuff you said about painting me…”

  Embarrassment rushed in to add to the awkwardness. Rubbing the back of my neck, I muttered, “Oh, yeah.” I’d been trying not think about how much of a sap I must have sounded to Kalin last night. Tersely poetic, more like giant moron.

  I heard her huff and turned to see her roll her eyes at me. “Don’t get all tense and macho on me, Young.” Kalin’s throat worked for a second. “It meant the world to me, not just because of the compliment, but how you opened up.” Voice shaking a little now, she touched my face. “How you let me in. Thank you.”

  I felt the tension ease out of my body and I said gruffly, “You’re welcome.”

  “It’s not fair, you know.” Her face became serious. “You’re handsome, such a gentleman,” her lips twitched, “you can draw. And you can make a girl swoon with a few well-chosen words.”

  Hunching my shoulders, I looked away, trying not feel ridiculously pleased. “It’s far less than a woman like you deserves, but thank you.”

  Kalin let out a breathy sigh, almost like a sob, and I glanced at her in alarm. “See?” She smiled, her lips working, and eyes even brighter than before. “Wes, I didn’t really respond to what else you said last night, and I just wanted to, um, tell you…”

  As she trailed off, I cocked my head at her, frowning. Dimly I was aware of my heart pounding hard in my chest and a cold sweat prickling along my spine. “What else?”

  She looked at me in some surprise, her cheeks flushing with color, and she said in a low voice, “Um, you know,” her fingers reached up to twist in her curls. “About kissing me, the smell of my hair, the…” Biting her lip, Kalin looked down. “Only wanting me.”

  Going rigid, I suddenly knew exactly to what she was referring to. “Oh God, I said that out loud,” I breathed, feeling a dazed kind of exultation mingled with horror. “I can’t believe it…”

  God, do I love this, Kalin… Kissing you.

  I can’t imagine wanting anyone else after you. I don’t want to.

  I only want you, now and forever.

  All of those words jumbled and swarmed in my brain. I hadn’t meant to expose myself like that, put Kalin in a position where she had to let me down gently.

  “Kay, I’m sorry,” I rushed to say, clenching my fists. “I know that’s not what you expected to hear and I understand.”

  Jerking away from me, Kalin fixed a glare on me, and I gaped at her. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” She asked in an angry voice. “You you didn’t say that stuff just to get me into bed, did you?” But even the accusation in her tone was one of confliction.

  “No!” The word tore from me in a growl, making her jump. “God, no. Kalin, I…” Now I was panicking, words scattering away from me, and I just stared at her.

  She stared right back. “Did you mean what you said last night?” Her voice was like a crackle of white flame, intense and driving.

  Lie! screamed a desperate voice in my head. Lie and let her walk away from this.

  Let her walk away from you, Young.

  But her gaze was unwavering and I heard myself say, “Yes. Every last word.” My voice was low and intense. “I’m falling for you, Kalin. I have been since the moment I saw you.”

  Lips parted, Kalin stared at me, her eyes sparkling with tears. “Wes, I–”

  “I know you don’t feel the same way,” I interrupted her. “And it’s okay. It’s okay.” I sounded like I was trying to convince myself. “I love you, Kalin, but I could never be with you.”

  Chapter 17

  Sitting with Wes on that porch, I’d been raised to the level of the stars, heart soaring, and then, suddenly, in the next moment, slammed right back into the dirt.

  Choking for air, I gasped out, “Why?” I gripped his hoodie, feeling as though a hole had been torn in my chest, and someone was trying to pull my heart out through it. “Why the hell not?”

  I could hear the agony in my voice, raw and bleeding, like a wound. I’d never heard such pain in my own voice before. It almost didn’t sound like me.

  I’m tough. I’m independent, came an echo of the brashness I’d used once upon a time to fight off heartbreak before. But now I was realizing that wasn’t heartbreak. Not even close.

  I’m in love, I thought helplessly.

  That look was back in Wes’s eyes, the same one from last night. A look that made me afraid for him. Not for me. It was a look of self-immolation, I’d realized, martyrdom.

  At least I’ll have this memory, he’d said. Even if I can’t have you.

  I understood. Hysterics bubbled up now. No wonder why he’d tried to hold me off at first last night. And I’d thrown myself at him. Suddenly, I stood up, even though the ground was lurching under me. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Love wasn’t supposed to be like shards of glass slicing your chest to ribbons, making each pulse of life feel like a cruel joke.

  “Kalin, what’s wrong?” Wes’s hands were on my shoulders, he was spinning me towards him. “You look sick.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I cried out at him, wanting to both punch him and kiss him.

  But this was Wes. A man of duty. He’d probably been reprimanding himself for having feelings for me. And a hysterical laugh burst from my lips. Suddenly, so many things made sense. The way he’d tense up sometimes when I brushed against him, the way he sometimes avoided looking at me, or the way he did look at me. The panic in his eyes after we’d been separated, never mind the terror after I fell in the river.

  The desperation of those kisses last night. It wasn’t just passion. It was him trying to seize every last moment together. Probably compounded by his guilt for giving into his feelings.

  How can he not know I feel the same way? screamed a voice in my head.

  But as I thought about it, I could easily see the ways I’d covered my tracks. Without thinking, out of habit, I’d kept my guard up. Even as he let his down, I’d been too afraid to reciprocate in kind. I hadn’t said a word. I’d just kissed him.

  I let him think it was nothing but physical attraction.

  Wes was talking to me, his deep voice soothing, but I couldn’t hear a word. I just clenched his forearms, staring down at the ground, trying to get a grip.

  He had been there last night, hadn’t he?

  Our connection was profound, it was real. He had to have felt that.

  Maybe that’s what that look in his eyes had been. Some part of him knew I felt the same way, even as he tried to convince himself otherwise.

  Then his words echoed dully in my head. It began to ache. No, I ached all over.

  I love you, but I could never be with you.

  Above us, a crow suddenly let out a raucous laugh as it flew by, and I shot a glare up at the sky. Now it was like my hearing had been switched back on.

  “Kalin, why don’t we go back in? You can lie down. I can tell you about everything else later.”

  Everything else. His secrets. His brothers. My sister.

  A shudder went over me. The Skinwalker.

  “No,” I said, not looking at him, pulling away from him. “I want to know. I just, I need a minute.” When I pulled free of him, I had the shuddering sensation of slicing off a limb. But I didn’t look back. “Please, Wes, just leave me alone for a second.”

  His warm presence at my back faded away. “Okay,” he said, his voice both gentle and sad.

  Pulling in sharp, painful breaths, I walked towards the river and stared at it unseeingly. When I’d first gotten up this morning, I’d looked outside to see the bright sky, and thought about pulling my camera out. Even though I’d brought it with me, I hadn’t used it yet.

  With that idea, I’d wanted to take pictures of Wes.

  Now the strap cut into me, an accusatory weight.
I’d made such a mess of things.

  Hugging myself, I tried to come up with a plan. If I told Wes, would it change his mind? Was he just telling me he couldn’t be with me to try to ease my conscience? That sounded like him…

  But no, he’d sounded so adamant, so grieved already.

  So if I did tell him, would I just be causing him pain? Was this what people meant when they meant sacrificing for love? My chest rose and fell rapidly, the pain in my heart spreading.

  Was it better to walk away?

  Suddenly, I felt furious. Furious with the universe for tasking Wes with whatever kept us apart, furious at Wes for being Wes, and furious with my sister Trini. If she’d just stayed put, didn’t go slinking off to Vegas, getting drunk and kidnapped…

  I’d never have met him. I could have avoided this.

  Then my shoulders slumped. What kind of a bitch was I to think that? I knew why I was angry. I just wanted to talk to my sister. Trini would know what to do.

  A shadow blocked the sun and I jumped. It was that damn crow again. Fluttering down on a tree near me, it cackled like it knew what I was going through.

  Suddenly the hair rose on the back of my neck and a shadow moved in the corner of my eye. I whirled, staring, but there was nothing there.

  Like in the mountains?

  Now uneasy, I was about to turn and call for Wes when a noise interrupted me. A light noise, like the ruffle of wings. Clouds rushed across the sky, covering the sun. I stared up in disbelief as a strange feeling of claustrophobia hit me.

  “Hello, Kalin,” came a smooth, cruel voice. A voice of nightmares.

  With a gasp, I looked down. It was standing there, in the shadow of a tree, fingers tapping on the cane, and eyes gleaming with that odd, dull red.

  As though knowledge of what it was had sharpened my sight, I could both see and sense the corruption underneath the skin. See the cracks, the way it scattered the light away, and smell the polluted odor emanating from it.

  About to scream for Wes, something sticky, like a cloth covered in tar, slapped over my mouth. I was caught fast in the grip of some shadowy creature and couldn’t move.