Dark Side of Morning (Wind Dancer Book 1)

by Tierney James

  Neosho tried to wiggle his toes in the hard shoes then made exaggerated steps to try them out. “They make noise. How do you sneak up on your enemy?”

  The Osage watched the bearded man pale. Did he sense something unusual about him? Would he be a problem?

  “No enemies here. You don’t need to be afraid.”

  “Not afraid.” His voice sounded deep and intimidating. “Neosho afraid of nothing.” After he spun around with a jerky movement, he stormed around the counter to survey the foyer leading out.

  “Should I reserve a room for you tonight?”

  The Osage ignored the question and lumbered toward the exit. He heard the noise box with pictures come alive with news of the museum. The tattooed man called after him about the moccasins he’d left on the floor. Neosho looked over his shoulder at the man but failed to comprehend the man lifting something black to his ear and saying words about 911.

  ~~~~

  Jacque called early the next morning. “I’m sending a car for you guys. The place is crawling with the CDC. Homeland, too.”

  “I need to contact my work,” Cleo told him.

  “Already taken care of.” He paused. “Everything go okay with our guy last night?”

  “Yes. No problems.”

  “Glad to hear it. You better prepare him for what is about to happen. These guys are serious as a heart attack.”

  “I’ll see you soon, Jacque. Thanks.” She clicked off her cell and discovered Wind Dancer watching her from the bedroom door.

  He’d taken a shower and dressed in new jeans that actually fit him. The black T-shirt reminded her of a bad-boy poster she’d seen in a bar. All he needed was a motorcycle with a skull stenciled on it. His feet remained bare, but he held a pair of cowboy boots in his hand. She backed away, offering a weak grin, but he continued toward her.

  “I woke this morning and you had left,” he said.

  “I slept in the other room. I thought you might rest better.”

  “Are you afraid of me, Cleopatra?”

  She thought about his question for a minute. “A little. It seems impossible you are here and really in my life.”

  Closer. “I will protect you from Neosho. We will solve this problem together. Then you can let me into your real life. I want to be a part of your future.”

  Cleo melted when their eyes locked. “You don’t really know me, Wind Dancer. I might not be the person you think I am. If you decide to return to your world, I will understand. This must all be very confusing to you.”

  The boots dropped to the floor drawing her eyes to them for only an instant, when he took her hand and drew her closer. “What I didn’t know, your father told me. If there is more, then I want to discover you all by myself. I have waited a very long time. Your world is mysterious and strange, but one I will embrace to stay here with you. Your father taught me many things so I could survive. I realize there is still much to learn.” His bright eyes erased the moody expression dominating his face most of the time. “You and Jacque can help me. And I will teach you.”

  Taking a deep breath, Cleo felt herself seduced by a dream. “I’m not sure you’ll be up to getting to know me better. I’m pretty hardheaded.” He would not be likely to tolerate an independent, twenty-first-century woman.

  Wind Dancer kissed her mouth so suddenly, she later wondered if it had happened. “I think we are talking about two different things, Cleopatra.” He released her and picked up his boots when the doorbell buzzed.

  Her feet became heavy as concrete as the warmth of his mouth faded from her lips. The press of his body paralyzed her with a new kind of longing she both feared and desired. Another annoying buzz of the doorbell jerked her to reality, along with Wind Dancer hopping on one foot toward the door as he tried to wiggle his other into a boot.

  “Help me understand your world and I will make it safe for us.” He touched the doorknob.

  “No. Wait. The front desk didn’t call up.”

  He twisted the knob and the door crashed open.

  “Stop,” she screamed as Neosho charged into the condo slamming into Wind Dancer with incredible strength.

  Chapter 8

  I don’t care if the front doors are locked or not,” Jacque yelled into the phone. “Break the damn door down if you have to. There should be someone there to answer. If there isn’t then something is wrong. Do. It. Now.” He heard gunshots, glass breaking, excited voices, a call for 911, and moaning. He checked his weapon before shoving it into his holster.

  “Wait. Where are you going? You can’t leave,” a dark-haired woman from the CDC shouted as if she had authority over him. “I’m ordering you.” She attempted to right her glasses onto her pug nose with her middle finger as she stepped to block him.

  “Get out of my way, woman.” Jacque grabbed her by both arms to keep from mowing her down. The sudden burst of speed caused her to stumble away into a desk.

  Jacque grabbed his faded jacket as he stormed through the outer offices and ordered a couple of patrolmen to follow. Once the two cars pulled out onto the highway, they activated the flashing lights and sirens. Things appeared to be unraveling at Cleo’s, so he avoided another call to her. Other information trickled through his radio hinting all hell had broken loose.

  “Hang in there, Cleo. I’m on my way,” he mumbled through clenched teeth as he hit the accelerator.

  ~~~~

  Neosho hit Wind Dancer so hard the Pawnee flew backward onto the floor then slid toward the plate-glass windows, causing a momentary image in Cleo’s mind of him crashing through the glass and plummeting to his death. The thought faded as Neosho straightened his body then pivoted toward her. In one fluid moment, he lunged catching her by the arm during an attempted retreat. She tried to peel his fingers from her wrist without success causing him to tighten his grip. Frantic, she landed her free fist into his chest as he dragged her toward the door. From the corner of her eye, Cleo saw a blurred form slam into Neosho, freeing her from his grip.

  Wind Dancer jumped onto the Osage’s back, but the man flung him off with a piercing howl. The Pawnee fell against the foyer wall as Neosho reached both hands to grab Wind Dancer’s neck. The attack continued with each man landing blows to the other, reminding Cleo of two wild animals sparring for the attention of a herd of females. Mixed with their grunts and groans came the crashing against walls. Pictures hit the floor and shattered. The two filled the exit so Cleo couldn’t escape for help.

  She grabbed her purse and dug through the piles of receipts, mismatched makeup items, and various things she’d delayed in cleaning out, until her fingers touched the tube of pepper spray in the zipper pouch where she usually kept her cell phone. Directing her focus to the two men, she watched Wind Dancer toss Neosho into the living room like a paper airplane. He landed at her feet, where he rolled to a standing position. His musky scent reminded her of the outdoors as he once again snatched at her arm. This time she took control by expelling the toxic spray into Neosho’s face.

  He rubbed his face as growls spewed from his mouth. Shaking his head, he staggered then tripped over the coffee table before sprawling across the floor. From his speedy recovery, most of the spray may have missed his eyes, but the sting enabled enough time to snatch her cell phone off the kitchen counter, as Wind Dancer moved in to attack once more.

  Neosho tilted his head to the side and flexed his arms. Cleo noticed Wind Dancer also cocked his head. She strained to hear, but their heavy breathing kept her a little off-center.

  The banging at the front door drew concerned glances for mere seconds then to each other. Wind Dancer lunged forward as Neosho escaped to the sliding doors onto the balcony. Somewhere in Cleo’s mind she could hear loud voices in the hall then a splintering of wood as the door became unhinged.

  Jacque rushed into the foyer with his weapon drawn as Neosho crashed through the glass doors and rolled onto the balcony. Wind Dancer jumped onto the same spot only to have the Osage spring to his feet then onto the balcony’s six-i
nch-wide railing. Cleo felt the detective at her side. Together they navigated through a sea of glass shards that caused them to move with unsteady feet.

  The Osage moved along the railing like a confident cougar forcing Wind Dancer to scamper onto the same railing. He called out to the Osage, forcing him to pause and stare down at the green space below then at Wind Dancer.

  “Get down from there.” Jacque lifted his gun with both hands, aiming it at Neosho as he hunched his shoulders like a man ready to run.

  Neosho pointed at his eyes then to Cleo before leaping to the next balcony with little effort or concern.

  “Stop or I’ll shoot!” Jacque rushed forward alongside Wind Dancer who moved down the railing of the balcony with ease. The neighboring tenant opened his sliding glass door and stepped out with concern etched on his face. Jacque lowered his weapon. “Get inside!”

  But it was too late. Neosho jumped down then circled the man’s neck with a massive arm dragging him to the railing. His screaming and flailing seemed to amuse Neosho as he raised his eyes to the three on the other balcony and smirked. He lifted the man over the railing but let him grab at the edge to keep from falling.

  Wind Dancer didn’t hear, or maybe ignored, Cleo’s scream when he leaped to the next balcony as Neosho escaped through the condo. The man’s cry for help faded as Wind Dancer reached over and snatched him up dropping him face first to the balcony floor, before running inside after the Osage.

  Cleo jumped aside as Jacque raced through her condo toward the hall door. He leapt over one of his officers who lay on the floor unconscious, a trickle of blood coming from a gash on the side of his head. Wind Dancer joined them as the sound of an exit door swooshed shut.

  All three hurried to intercept Neosho. Wind Dancer yanked the door open and let Jacque slip through, with gun drawn. Other officers filled the stairwell.

  “The roof.” Cleo pointed up. “He’ll be trapped. We need him alive, Jacque.”

  He nodded as both he and Wind Dancer continued with caution toward the top floor. Cleo got pushed aside as other men in uniform followed. What would Neosho do if cornered? She returned to the hallway to help the downed officer and call for an ambulance. She couldn’t help but wonder about the staff on the main floor who managed the comings and goings of the tenants. Kneeling down by the officer, the image of Wind Dancer and Neosho scurrying along the balcony railing, without fear of falling, overtook her check on reality. How could they do such a thing? And, now, law enforcement and two warriors would congregate on the roof with no place to go except down. She squeezed her eyes shut to block out the possibility of both Native Americans locked in a struggle that could propel them over the edge.

  As the injured officer groaned, the image of Wind Dancer filled her mind. Cleo mumbled, “Be still my heart.”

  ~~~~

  The rooftop door stood ajar as both Wind Dancer and Jacque barreled out into the open space. The cold air smacked them with a Lake Michigan wind gust, staggering their progress. Wind Dancer pointed at a figure disappearing behind a heating unit.

  “Stay behind me. I got this,” Jacque barked.

  “No. You don’t understand. Neosho is stronger here. Like me.”

  Jacque could feel his mouth and forehead pinch in a frown. He withheld any comment of disbelief. “He’s flesh and blood. He’ll bleed like anyone else when I shoot him.” Two more officers joined them, guns drawn.

  “I hear him, Jacque.” Wind Dancer hunkered down while tilting his ear up. “There.” He pointed at the corner of some construction, resembling a storage shed. Jerking his chin up as a sign to move, both men raced forward, each diverting to the left or right.

  Neosho bolted away, running toward the parapet, stopping to look over at the ground below before he faced his pursuers.

  Jerking up his gun to level it at the Osage’s chest, Jacque couldn’t outmaneuver Wind Dancer who cut off his line of sight and raised his hands to show he carried no weapons.

  “Neosho.” Wind Dancer took a step forward forcing his enemy to jump onto the rim of the parapet. “Let me help you.”

  “Like you helped my people?” Neosho spat with a snarl. “I will have my revenge.”

  “You may be sick. Dr. Cleopatra can help us.” He dared take another step, only to encourage the Osage to step backward toward the edge. “Let the doctor—”

  “Us? There is no us. You brought sickness to my people, and now they are gone or scarred from the sickness. These people”—he swung out his arms then slammed a fist into his own chest— “will find their way to us, bringing their poison, their disease, and their destruction of the land. Do you see around you, Wind Dancer? Is this the life you want?”

  “Step down and we’ll figure this out, buddy. There’s no need to do this.” Jacque returned his gun to his belt holster then showed his hands.

  Neosho threw his head back letting loose laughter that echoed off nearby buildings. His eyes moved between the two men before one corner of his mouth turned up as other officers approached with exposed guns. “I am not your buddy and I did not come here to kill myself.”

  Neosho pivoted in a blur as he darted down the parapet. Wind Dancer pounced onto the rim in hot pursuit with Jacque trying to keep up with little success. The two warriors barreled toward the end, both picking up speed. As Wind Dancer reached out to grab the hem of the Green Bay Packer jacket, Neosho leaped out over the open space toward the building next door. Jacque’s momentum faltered. He watched the Osage land safely on the roof next door as Wind Dancer lost his footing and fell forward. Jacque reached out and grabbed his arm, which flew out in his attempt to stop the fall. He fell flat and rolled up to stand, panting. Jerking around, Wind Dancer peered over at the neighboring building in time to see Neosho escape while Jacque shouted orders to the other officers.

  Both men watched Neosho run across the building only to leap to yet another rooftop before disappearing from sight.

  “Are you alright?” Jacque continued to stare after the Osage in disbelief. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” He turned to Wind Dancer with a little awe escaping from his mouth. “How are you guys able to do these things?”

  Wind Dancer straightened to his full height, a gust of wind blowing his hair across his face. “Magic,” he said simply and headed toward the exit that would lead him to Cleo.

  “Magic,” Jacque moaned. “You’re pullin’ my leg, right?”

  ~~~~

  The lobby staff needed medical attention from the paramedics, but nothing required a lengthy stay at the hospital. They heard the CDC staff had arrived at the hospital to give tetanus shots deciding not to inform the injured about including a smallpox booster. Given a list of possible side effects and strict orders to return to only the emergency room if they appeared, tenants were soon released from the hospital.

  Cleo reassured them. Asking her medical questions, sharing aches and pains or, showing her a rash or cut as if it might be the onset of the bubonic plague, was nothing new. Keeping an eye on them would not be as tedious as in the past.

  “The police departments throughout the city are scheduled for inoculations with an explanation of a highly contagious Asian flu showing up in three patients at Christian General Hospital overnight after arriving at O’Hare International Airport the evening before from Myanmar,” Jacque explained as they entered his precinct building.

  Cleo took Wind Dancer’s hand to lead him inside since he continued to be amazed at the world around him. She let Jacque know the instructions she’d left for medical personnel. “They needed to be on the lookout for people who complain of fever, overall discomfort, and severe headaches. Crippling back pain and vomiting would also be a telltale sign.”

  “All passengers on those flights are currently being notified and encouraged to report to their physician immediately. A stern warning about speaking to the press has been issued by the CDC, which caused a great deal of grumbling and complaints from medical personnel and first responders until their superiors were bro
ught into the loop about the true nature of the situation.”

  Jacque opened his office door and stood aside for them to enter. He grinned at his newfound partners. “Instead of saying a parallel-universe-jumping Osage, who may or may not have smallpox, might be running loose in the city, we created a spin involving an infected worker from a research lab in Indonesia.”

  Even the CDC didn’t believe the true story, but after hearing about the events earlier in the morning, they decided something unprecedented had occurred that needed to be explained away in the event an epidemic was imminent.

  Some authority combed her condo in hazmat suits, hoping to find bodily fluids from the fight in order to test for smallpox. Tenants were forced to leave without much of an explanation except a terrorist may have caused the commotion in the lobby. For everyone’s safety, a thorough search of their floor made sense in such dangerous times. Cleo realized terrorism had become such a part of everyone’s life, people accepted the situation without complaint. They were instructed not to speak to the press until they caught the man. Of course that was going to be almost impossible, and it would only be a matter of time before they showed up in front of her building.

  “Dr. Boris Kuzma is here to see you.” The officer led a tall gentleman well into his fifties into the conference room where Cleo, Wind Dancer, and Jacque sat around a table talking in whispers.

  “Dr. Kuzma.” Cleo scooted out of her chair and joined him as he opened his arms, smiling like a patient grandfather. “I’m so glad to see you.”

  “Moya, printsessa,” he spoke in Russian while patting her shoulders as she embraced him.

  “It’s been a long time since you called me your princess. I’ve missed you.” She led him to the table. “This is Dr. Boris Kuzma. He worked at NASA as a physicist specializing in parallel universes, string theory, and a bunch of other things I will never understand.”