by Gail Koger
“Kathy.” She stared blankly at her mangled body. “Am I dead?”
People could be as emotional in death as in life. “Why don’t we move over to that tree and I’ll explain what happened. Is that okay?”
She nodded.
I ushered her behind the tree and flashed her the image of the Chupacabra. “Is that the creature that attacked you?”
Horror filled Kathy eyes. “It hurt. It hurt so bad.
“Sssh. You’re safe. It can’t harm you any longer.”
“Promise?”
“Yes, I promise. Did you see where it came from?”
“It got out of an old, blue van. At first, I thought it was some guy in a costume. A shudder shook Kathy. “Then it attacked me.”
“Did you see the driver?”
“Yes. I think so. Everything’s kinda jumbled. I think it was an old Navajo woman. One minute she was there, then she wasn’t.” Anguish filled her eyes. “Why? Why did this happen to me?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s not fair.”
“No, it isn’t, but know this, I will hunt that monster down and kill it.”
“Promise?”
“You have my word. Do you see a light?”
Kathy shook her head.
Some spirits who died violently needed help to cross over. Reaching out mentally, I connected with the esoteric plane and chanted, “Miraculin sepulcrum ibidem solus novum. Domum rotundam vivtorie construxit!”
An iridescent glow popped into existence.
“Your mother’s waiting for you.”
“She is? Where?”
“See the doorway?”
“Yes.” A big smile lit up Kathy’s face. “Mom.” She ran into the light.
I severed my link with the esoteric plane and frowned when I sensed Jake sneaking up on me. Had he seen the portal? Probably. My gaze fell on a turquoise shaman’s bracelet. Shit! That wasn’t a good sign. I quickly grabbed a pair of latex gloves out of the murder bag and pulled them on.
Jake demanded. “What are you doing?”
“Gathering evidence.” I picked up the broken turquoise bracelet and held it up for him to see. “Is that okay with you?”
Jake examined it carefully. “You think it belongs to our suspect?”
“Or another victim.” I knew the owner of the bracelet was Dezba Yazzie, a Navajo shaman and a close friend of my father. I prayed nothing had happened to her.
“My scanner registered a huge power spike and there was a bright light in the sky.” Jake cocked his head. “Any idea what caused those?”
I gave him a pitying stare. “The bright light is called the sun.”
“And the power spike?” Jake’s right eye twitched.
“Haven’t got a clue.” I put the bracelet in an evidence bag. “Get anything out of the witness?”
“No. The shuttle’s coming to pick up this body too. It might be a good idea to record the remains before they arrive,” Jake sniped.
“Yes, sir,” I said politely and had the horde of blow flies bombard Jake.
Jake swatted madly at the buzzing insects. “Is this another one of your shaman powers?”
I blinked innocently as the flies completely avoided me. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Maybe they like your stinky aftershave.” I picked up my scanner and began documenting the crime scene.
Jake followed me. “I’m not wearing any aftershave.”
“Oh. Maybe if you bathed regularly you wouldn’t have this problem.”
“You’re a real riot.”
“And you’re a jackass. Now go away.”
“You’re not what you seem to be,” Jake spat.
“What? A cop trying to do her job?”
Jake leaned down until we were nose-to-nose. “You’re hiding something, and I’m really good at discovering secrets.”
“Why don’t you use that talent to figure out what kind of alien is killing people and how to stop it,” I snapped.
He straightened. “I’m Zarek’s top investigator and he sent me here to find out what the Navajo people are hiding.”
“I don’t have time for your stupid games. I have a serial killer to find and stop. Now get the fuck out of my way.”
“I’m not going anywhere, buttercup.”
Other than critiquing my techniques, the Jackass didn’t lift a finger to help me process the crime scene.
A sleek black shuttle landed two hundred yards away from the crime scene. A brawny Coletti warrior hurried down the ramp with a funky looking gurney.
“Don’t forget to photograph the intestines hanging from the tree,” Jake commanded and hurried over to the warrior.
What a bossy prick. While General Jones and Jake spoke with the warrior, I headed over to my father.
A frown knotted his forehead. “What’s wrong?”
I pulled out the evidence bag with the bracelet. “It’s Dezba’s.”
The color drained from my father’s face. “You think she did this?”
“The dark magic does call to her. I spoke with the victim and she described the suspect’s vehicle as a blue van. She said an older Navajo woman was driving the car.”
“No. Dezba wouldn’t do this,” Father said emphatically.
“I hope not, but we need to check her hogan. Any idea on how to ditch the warlords?”
Father nodded. “We have a Blessingways ceremony to attend.”
Chapter Three
Jake snorted. “A holy ritual. What a load of crap.”
“The Blessingways ceremony is not a load of crap. It’s used to restore equilibrium to our lands and invoke positive blessings. The event is sacred and private. No Coletti warlords are allowed,” I retorted.
Jake narrowed his eyes in a hard, studying look. “It’s an excuse to ditch us.”
“Our lands have been desecrated and balance must be restored,” Father replied.
I added, “It’s in our treaty. I suggest you read it.”
“CeeCee’s correct. We aren’t allowed to interfere with their ceremonies,” General Jones said.
Every inch a Council Elder, Father stated, “Officers Yellowhorse and Begay will stay and assist you. Now, if you will excuse us, we must leave.”
As we walked away, I gave Jake the one-fingered-salute.
“If you run, I will find you,” he growled in my head.
“I took an oath to protect my people and I intend to honor it. So, back the hell off.”
“You have three hours. Not a minute longer.”
“I suggest you use that time to read the damn treaty,” I snapped, and literally had to climb up to the driver’s seat of Yellowhorse’s official high-rider truck.
My father slid into the passenger seat and began chanting softly in Navajo. None of the superior Coletti Empire’s technology could penetrate one of his cloaking spells.
Jake held up three fingers as I drove by him.
I waved at him all friendly like and had the flies show him some lovin’.
“Not funny.”
Grinning like a lunatic, I pulled out on the main highway and put the pedal to the metal. It was also a good thing Dezba’s hogan was on sacred land and the warlords had no idea what happened during a Blessingways ceremony.
Ten miles down the road, I mentally scanned the area for any signs of the alien monster. To my surprise, my internal radar was quiet. I couldn’t sense the Chupacabra or Dezba. Which was bad. Very bad. Dezba had a very distinct aura.
I glanced down at the speedometer. Damn. I was doing a hundred and twenty miles an hour. I eased off the gas pedal. The last thing I needed was a blown engine. I glanced over at my father. Even at seventy-three he still had the face of a warrior and the wiry strength of a street fighter. His magic roiled around the car. If the Overlord knew what he was truly capable of, he would either kill my father or lock him up.
Fifteen minutes later, I turned down a narrow, rutted d
irt road. The truck shook and vibrated as it kicked up a boiling cloud of red dust. A few skeletal trees dotted the flat, seemingly featureless land.
Father stopped chanting. “I cannot sense Dezba.”
“Me either. Let’s hope she went to Window Rock to do some shopping.”
Dezba’s traditional Navajo hogan came into view. The dome shaped dwelling was constructed from cedar poles and plastered with mud for insulation. The door faced the east so she could greet the morning sun with prayers. There was no sign of her blue van.
Father stiffened and pointed.
Shit! Dezba’s prized sheep had been slaughtered. I brought the truck to a stop and surveyed the carnage. “I don’t see her mare. You think she made a run for it?”
“No. Dezba would stay and fight.”
We got out of truck and reluctantly approached the hogan. Blood covered the shattered front door.
One look inside and I knew the bloody remains on the floor were Dezba’s. I opened my psychic eye. “Her soul has passed Father.”
His face a mask of grief, Father commanded, “Burn it.”
“Let me do my job first.”
“No. Burn it down. I will not allow the Coletti to take her body.”
A coyote howled in the distance.
My mouth tightened into a hard line. Evil prowled our land.
Taking a pouch of ash out of his satchel, Father smeared it over his hands and face. The Navajo believed ash protected them from the dead.
I took the pouch from him and quickly rubbed the ash over my exposed skin. Grabbing a fuel can from the truck, I splashed gas around the interior of the hogan. If Jake or the General found out about this, I would simply tell them it was a Navajo death ceremony.
Father spread his arms and began chanting. Dark gray clouds gathered overhead. Whoever had killed Dezba would soon feel my father’s wrath.
Retrieving a flare from the emergency pack, I struck it and tossed it inside the hogan. Whoosh! Flames flared, golden and greedy and raced along the floor. Within minutes the hogan was engulfed in flames.
Thunder cracked and incandescent red lightning bolts arced across the building clouds.
My internal radar screamed a warning. I whirled to face the threat and caught a brief glimpse of sunlight flashing off metal.
“Sniper,” I yelled.
The crack of a high-powered rifle sounded.
Pain exploded in my chest as the bullet struck me. The force of the impact spun me around. As I fell, my head struck a hitching post, and the world faded away.
“CeeCee. Wake up. Wake the fuck up,” a determined male voice shouted.
“Father?” I opened my eyes and swiped at the blood running down my face. Huge bolts of lightning crackled around me. “Father?” I pushed myself upright and sucked in an agonized breath. Damn, my chest hurt. I blinked as funny black spots danced in my vision.
“CeeCee,” the harsh voice bellowed in my head.
“Jake?”
“What happened?”
“Someone shot me.”
Jake exclaimed, “Shot you? How badly are you hurt?”
“I’ll live. My vest stopped the bullet.” Where was my father? A stomach clenching jolt of shock hit me when I noticed the Chupacabra standing over his bloody form. Every muscle in my body screamed in protest, “Noooo! Get away from him. Get away.”
“The Chupacabra’s there?”
Ignoring him, I pulled my pistol and emptied an entire clip into it.
The bullets bounced off the Chupacabra’s hide. It let out a deep, guttural growl and padded toward me.
“Bullets won’t kill it,” Jake snapped.
“No shit, Sherlock.” I instinctively drew on the storm’s power and allowed it to rage around me. “C’mon. Get away from my father.” I put another clip in and shot it in the eye.
A hideous, screeching cry broke from it and it shook its head violently.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
The incredulous note in Jake’s voice would have been amusing under different circumstances. “The only one dying is the monster.”
“How do you plan on killing it?”
“Shaman magic.” I broke our link and chanted, “Esse quidam dixerunt.” A sheet of electric flames set the clouds aglow and dozens of lightning bolts struck the monster, incinerating it. Tendrils of smoke rose from the blackened earth.
A wave of exhaustion rolled over me and those funny black spots were back in my vision. I struggled to get to my feet. “Don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead.”
Strong arms wrapped around me. “Easy. He’s still alive.”
A yelp broke from me. Where had Jake come from? Why was he wearing body armor? Had they been spying on us? “My father needs help.”
“Uncle Saul’s checking on him.”
I blinked to clear my vision. Huh? The General was running a healing wand over Father.
A grim look on his face, General Jones instructed, “Take care of the girl’s injuries. Elder Tsosie’s critical.” The General picked Father up and teleported.
“Where’s he taking my father?”
“To our ship. It has a top-notch sick bay,” Jake answered.
I let out a shuddering breath. “I can’t lose him too.”
“You won’t. Shrek’s the best medic in the galaxy.”
Brilliant hues of lightning sizzled around us.
“That’s one hell of a light show.” There was a touch of awe in Jake’s voice.
I quieted the storm. “The weather’s funny out here.”
“Kinda strange it only happens when a shaman’s around.”
“Go figure.” I grimaced. My head was killing me, and my badly bruised chest made breathing difficult.
Jake sniffed my head.
“What are you doing?”
“You don’t smell like a Navajo,” Jake replied, turning me to face him.
A cold thread of dread snaked up my back. “Well, I am a Navajo.”
“Let’s do a taste test.” Jake licked the blood off my face.
I squirmed wildly. “Stop it! I’m not a fucking lollipop.”
“Lucy, you’ve got some ’splaining to do. You’re not Navajo at all.” Jake took another lick. “I’ll be damned. You’re Dragos. Which explains how you can talk to the dead.”
“You can’t know that by licking my blood.”
Jake shrugged. “It’s a Coletti thing. How did a Dragos female end up in the middle of nowhere?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I’m all ears,” Jake said.
“Some other time. The murderer is going to get away if we don’t go after him now.” I struggled to break his grip. Damn he was strong.
“Easy. You’re in no shape to go hunting.” Jake tapped his warrior’s bracelet. “Looks like you have a concussion, along with that gash on your head and a badly bruised sternum.”
Arrrgh. The ass wasn’t listening to me. “The sniper was the Chupacabra’s partner,” I practically shouted.
“It’s actually a Testavorr. They were thought to be extinct,” Jake said.
“Well they aren’t. Let go of me.”
“Not a chance. I’ve decided to keep you.”
“What?” A bolt of lightning struck the ground a short distance away.
Jake hastily added, “As a partner. You’re a good cop.”
“I’m overwhelmed by your praise. Let me go or I’ll use my freeze ray on you again,” I bluffed.
Jake laughed. “If you could, you would have already. You have two choices. I take you back to our ship and have Shrek heal you or you can drink my blood. Which will have you in fighting shape within a couple of minutes. A word of warning. We saw you incinerate the Testavorr. If I take you back to the ship, my uncle will lock you up until the Overlord decides what to do with you. What’s it gonna be?”
Crap. I was screwed either way. “You can’t possibly want me as a mat
e.”
Jake shot back, “Who said I did? Partners, remember?”
The sneaky bastard was up to something. “I thought when a woman took a Coletti warrior’s blood it started the bonding process.”
“Nah, that’s a rumor started by our enemies,” Jake responded.
I looked at his aura. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?” There was a devilish gleam in his eyes.
“I can tell when someone’s fibbing.”
“Handy talent for a cop,” Jake said.
“Isn’t it.”
“What’s it gonna be. Me or the ship?”
“The murderer’s getting away or don’t you care?”
“Tick tock. Time’s running out.”
I knew without a doubt, if I didn’t choose him, I’d end up in the brig. “You.”
“Good decision.” Jake bit his arm and held it out. “Drink up.”
I looked at the badly bleeding wound in horror. “That’s gotta hurt.”
“You’re wasting time. Drink. Now.”
With a grimace of distaste, I sucked down some of his warm, coppery blood. Ewww. Gross. My stomach heaved. “I can’t.”
“Suck it up, buttercup. Do you want to bring that asshole to justice or not?”
The image of my seriously injured father flashed across my mind. “I want your word we’re full partners in the hunt.”
“You have it.”
One look at his aura and I knew he was telling the truth. Lowering my mouth to his arm, I sucked and sucked and sucked. Warmth seeped into my stomach and began to spread throughout my body, healing my injuries and easing my pounding headache. The rumors were true. Their blood did have healing qualities.
“Feeling better?” Jake released me.
I backed away from him and wiped the blood off my mouth. “Yes.”
Jake licked his wound and the bleeding stopped. “What’s up with the ash?”
“It protects us from the dead.”
“You actually believe that shit?”
“You’re such a jackass.” I marched toward the outcrop of rock where the sniper had taken his shots.
“Where are you going?” There was an irritated note in Jake’s voice.
“To that rock over there. I’m hoping the sniper left some evidence behind.”
“Why didn’t you say so.” Jake clamped a hand on my shoulder and poof! We appeared at the outcrop.
