My Paranormal Valentine: A Paranormal Romance Box Set

by Michelle M. Pillow

  Babel stood suddenly and grabbed my arms, his expression fierce as he kissed me. “It’ll be dark soon, Sunny. Lock your doors. Double-check your windows. Don’t go outside. Whatever you do. Don’t. Go. Outside.”

  I think I’d seen this scene in a horror movie. It was the one that occurred right before the hapless female who, moments after having sex, is hacked into tiny pieces of gore.

  “I have to go now.” He kissed my cheek, tenderly, carefully. “Be safe.”

  Before I could ask him what the hell was going on in this town, he took off out of the apartment.

  “Great.” I sighed. “I’m going to be attacked by a vicious animal, and he leaves me alone.”

  I sighed again but did what he told me. I went downstairs, locked the door, made sure the windows were all locked down, then went back up to my apartment to wait out the coming storm.

  Three hours later, around eight-thirty in the evening, I watched through the cracked shutters in my bedroom as the sun dipped below the horizon and the moon came up in the east. The sky, clear of clouds, made me wonder what kind of storms they had in Missouri. It looked like a beautiful night out.

  Suddenly, howls and yaps sounded in the distance, making me shiver. I rubbed my arms, trying to ward off the feeling of foreboding. While the defiant part of me had been determined to stay in Peculiar, the chicken-butt side of me wanted to jump into my truck and head for the sunny coast of California.

  I checked out the window again.

  What I saw frightened me as much as the howls.

  Deer, opossums, raccoons, and all sorts of wildlife skirted the street, running as if their lives depended on it. I read about animals acting weird when a storm was brewing, but what the hell kind of weather would make them all to run through the middle of a human-populated town?

  Not watching was impossible. I hadn’t experienced this much craziness since the night a friend drunk-dialed me at four in the morning to ask me if she could date my cheating ex. (Totally breaking girl code—Thou shall not date thy friend’s ex ever.) I never forgave her.

  A fawn ran out from between the general store and the antique place right into the stampede. My heart thumped in my chest as it wove itself into the fray. I thought about Ruth’s little boy, running around his house with his father’s antlers clutched to his head.

  My anxiety upped a notch.

  Biting my fingernails, I watched it stumble and couldn’t hold back a gasp. This was worse than when Bambi’s mother got shot.

  A raccoon whacked the fawn in the side, sending the creature tumbling to the ground outside in front of my building.

  It was horrible! Even the squirrels were running it over. Its little mouth opened as if to scream.

  I couldn’t watch anymore. I know I’d been warned to stay inside, and the logical part of my brain told me the move was TSTL, but I had to do something to help the poor baby animal.

  I hit the stairs running and nearly tumbled myself. Sliding across the restaurant floor, I grabbed the keys off the hook near the door and unlocked the deadbolt. The noise outside had grown to a roar. Keeping myself pinned against the building, I waited for a small break then dashed out into the road and grabbed the fawn’s leg.

  The damned thing kicked the shit out of me with its back legs as I pulled it to safety around my 4X4 truck. As soon as I had it cleared of the chaos, it jumped up on all fours and bounded off down the street without a glance at me.

  No thank you, no sorry about the bruised ribs, no nothing. Ungrateful beast!

  I turned to get back into the store, but I’d done something wrong when I’d unlocked it from the inside. Somehow, it had stayed locked on the outside. I heard a roar, not just the roar of the multitude of animals, but a real, honest-to-goodness roar.

  A large black bear stood on its hind legs, then dropped into a gallop, coming up the street my way. I fumbled for the keys in my pocket, dropped them once, and panic had me shaking so bad I couldn’t get the right one into the damn hole!

  Why couldn’t I have just left Bambi alone? After all, it was nature that only the strong survive.

  Dropping my keys, again, I bent to retrieve them. Then it happened. It felt like a giant tree branch whacked me hard across my back, hammering me to the concrete sidewalk. I rolled over with a groan, and a dog or dog-like animal, maybe a coyote like Babel had mentioned, with the darkest brown eyes jumped onto my chest.

  It was the vision. It was coming true. Right fucking now!

  I screamed as it snarled and snapped, ready to make me a Sunny-snack. Throwing my elbow up, I managed to knock it off me once, but the damn thing was quick and vicious. It twisted its body and was back on me in less than a second. I screamed again as its warm breath panted across my skin.

  I wrenched sideways, the animal’s maw barely missing my neck as it sank its teeth into my left shoulder. The adrenaline rush of being attacked dulled the searing pain a little as I used my right hand to punch at its head and body with everything I had. It twisted and pulled at my shoulder. My left arm began to tingle with the first signs of numbness. So much better than the pain, but scarier.

  I screamed again.

  Its neck pressed against my face and I bit it until I felt my teeth break through the skin under the fur. It yelped, releasing me, pain flooding back into the damaged arm. I kicked it in the side as hard as I could, and it caught my jeans by the cuff and started to drag me. I kicked the animal in the jaw, but the coyote wasn’t going to let go twice. It pulled me out into the street.

  With my useless arm bloody and dragging behind me now, I started feeling lightheaded.

  No, no, no. This was not the time to pass out. Not now.

  If I lost consciousness, there would be no coming back. I used my good hand to undo my pants, desperately trying to get them off. I finally got them unzipped and down around my thighs, but I couldn’t get them down my legs.

  I screamed in frustration, my heart beating a mile a minute, my brain trying to come up with an exit solution.

  My saving came in the form of another coyote.

  It was nearly twice as large as the one attacking me, and it barreled into the brown-eyed devil with a ferocity I’d never seen. It grabbed the smaller one by the back of the neck and shook it before casting it aside. The smaller coyote yelped and whined, but the bigger one held its ground, standing between me and death.

  My hero, I thought. Then another thought came to me. The animal probably saved me so I could be its next meal. I scootched backward to the storefront, grabbing my keys where’d they’d fallen. The large coyote turned its face to me.

  Blue eyes.

  It raised its upper lip, baring sharp white teeth.

  The better to eat you with, my dear.

  But instead of attacking, it took off down the street after the rest of the animals.

  In severe pain, lightheaded, and completely panicked, I ran to the passenger door of my truck, hitting the unlock button on the keychain. Thank heavens for remote-control locks! I pulled the door open and crawled into the driver’s seat.

  I managed to get the key into the ignition, though I was shaking so bad, I don’t know how. The truck started, and I had one thought in my head. If Peculiar didn’t want me, well, who cares, I didn’t want Peculiar anymore, either. So there!

  I was going back to California, and I wasn’t going to waste a moment of time getting there. Then I noticed the blood. Lots and lots of blood. Oh boy. “You cannot pass out, Sunny,” I said firmly. “You will not pass out. Hold it together, girl.”

  Normally, I didn’t talk to myself. Not aloud, anyways. But I so needed a pep talk. “We’ll go to the nearest hospital. You’ll be fine.” I had lost feeling in my left hand. “Stop thinking about it. Just drive.”

  And that’s exactly what I did. I put the truck in gear and peeled out of my parking spot. I’d forgotten Ruth had told me the one-lane bridge was the only way in or out of the small town. I headed for the west side, dodging creatures big and small, and found there wa
sn’t an exit. I did a U-turn and head back the other way.

  Fishtailing out of town, the pain in my arm intensified, and I wished like hell the whole damn thing would go numb, that I could just go numb.

  I saw the bridge up ahead, signaling freedom. I’d be out of this insane town and, after a visit to the emergency room, out of this horrible state.

  No such luck.

  A large gray wolf jumped in front of my headlights and stopped. I slammed on the brakes and cut the wheels. The 4Runner hit the ditch with a jarring wham! The air bag deployed, smacking me hard in the chest and face. For a second I saw pretty colors, then as had become my habit, everything faded to black.

  Chapter Seven

  SMOKE? I SNIFFED the air again before opening my eyes. Yep. Smoke.

  I turned my head and blinked. Steam rose in front of me. I heard the hiss of water hitting something hot. I tried to sit up, but the pain in my shoulder kept me down.

  Groaning, I rubbed my eyes. A man, at least I was pretty sure it was a man, sat across the steam from me. His face and body, what I could see, was painted with thick paint in red, black, and yellow. His hair, a tangle of long, silvery-gray dreadlocks, spilled over his shoulders. He chanted softly, rocking gently, as he poured another ladle of water over a pit.

  I touched my wounded shoulder. A thick dressing covered it entirely, smelling of herbs and earth. I gazed wearily at the man covered in leather and fur. Then I noticed the room I was in. It was hand-sewn leather held up with thick saplings.

  Huh. It appeared I’d been rescued and tended to by a Rastafarian-Native American. I wondered where he hid his good shit because weed and peyote both sounded like they couldn’t hurt at this point.

  “You were badly injured,” he said, raising his eyes to me. They were the clearest gray I’d ever seen. His voice held a slight drawl, as though he was from farther south than Missouri.

  “Yes.” To avoid impoliteness, I added, “Thanks for helping me out.” I managed to get up on an elbow, and the fur covering me slipped down.

  Naked. I was naked! I nearly undid all his good work on my shoulder trying to yank the fur up around my breasts.

  He didn’t seem in the least fazed. “I sent word to town after I transported you here. Ruth brought you a fresh set of clothes. Yours were shredded pretty badly. They had to be removed so I could make sure you didn’t have any more injuries.”

  I appreciated the clinical way he spoke about treating me. He was an old guy after all, probably like an elder or something. My modesty should be the least of my concern. “Who are you? And where is Babel? If you sent back word to town, how come Ruth came and Babel didn’t? Why am I fooling myself? So we’d had a one-afternoon stand. No commitments. Hell, I’d even told him as much by word and deed. Plus, I’d told him about my abilities, which I’m sure he thought means I’m insane.” Suddenly, I stopped talking and stared at the old guy. “Did I just say that out loud?”

  He nodded. His mouth formed a small smile, flashing white teeth. Very white. Like the rest of the townsfolk. “I’m the town’s shaman.”

  A shaman? “So, do I just call you Shaman? Like, is that your name?” Maybe I had misunderstood.

  “Shaman is my title. Name’s Billy Bob Smith. You can call me Billy Bob.”

  I snorted. “Shaman Billy Bob?” I laughed and wished I hadn’t. It made my shoulder hurt worse. “Seriously. Billy Bob?”

  He sighed. Heavily. I couldn’t blame him. I was sort of being an ass.

  “I’m sorry. That was very rude of me.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “So, Billy Bob.” I tried to hold back the smirk when I said his name again. “Is this your teepee or something? Do you live here?” Seemed like awfully small living quarters.

  “No. My house is just up the hill. This is a sweat lodge. It helps purge your body, giving you the ability to heal quicker.”

  “Again. Seriously?”

  “Seriously.” He poured more water over the pit.

  The steam actually felt really good, comforting. Like a wet hug. I didn’t really believe the whole “purging” theory, but I was alive, and as long as I didn’t move around too much, I didn’t feel all that bad.

  “Sooo…Billy Bob.” I giggled. I couldn’t help it.

  He sighed again. “Yes, Sunny.”

  Well, of course, he knew my name. He’d obviously talked to Ruth and who knew who else from the town. “How bad’s my shoulder?”

  “The muscle was torn to the bone, but you didn’t have any nerve or tendon damage.”

  “You sound like a doctor.”

  “I am. Medical school in Columbia and a three-year internship in general medicine at the VA hospital.”

  I giggled again. I felt a little…high. “What did you give me?” I smiled.

  “I put a Demerol patch on your back to help you manage the pain when you woke.

  It’s a two-day patch, so you should be good for another day.”

  “I’ve been here a day?”

  “And night. You were pretty out of it.” He stood and had to stoop to keep from hitting his head on the top of the tent. If possible, he was taller than Babel.

  Babel. Had I asked about Babel? Where was he?

  “I found you in the ditch yesterday morning. You had me worried for a while.”

  “Let me get this straight. Your official title then is Doctor Shaman Billy Bob?” I sniggered again.

  Billy Bob shook his head. Obviously, he needed his own Demerol patch to appreciate me. “Rest now, Sunny. Sleep. Sleep will help you heal.”

  He left the tent after putting a few hot stones into the pit and adding more water. His advice seemed good, sound even. I took it.

  I felt the lick of a rough tongue on my shoulder, and I reached out, filling my hands with warm, thick fur. My eyes fluttered open. I stared into the eyes of the big beast that had saved my life. Its blue eyes were intense and almost human in the way they expressed worry. The beast licked my injured shoulder again.

  “I’m all right,” I said. I wasn’t feeling any pain. I stroked the beautiful fur, so much softer against my fingertips than I imagined. The animal that had attacked me, the fur was coarse and cool to touch, but not this one. He—yes, it was a he—was luxurious to touch.

  Having him so close felt like home—felt safe. He nudged me over with his muzzle until I made room for him to snuggle down next to me. He lay his head on my stomach, and together we slept.

  When I woke up again, I wondered if the blue-eyed coyote had been dream or vision, or maybe a little of both. All I knew for sure was that a part of me that I didn’t understand felt a painful loss at his absence.

  Shaman Billy Bob was back. I’d sensed him hovering before I even opened my eyes.

  “I’m alive,” I said.

  “I had no doubt.” I could hear the amusement in his voice.

  “How long was I out this time?”

  “Six hours.”

  Jeezus. “I can’t believe I’m still tired.”

  “It’s the pain meds.” He reached down, his hands firm and unlined, that of a younger man.

  The patch tugged at the skin on my shoulder as he peeled it off.

  “That a good idea?” I wasn’t in much pain, but I wondered how I’d feel when the good ju-ju wore off.

  “You’re healing well. Better than expected. I think we can switch you over to something less…potent. Like ibuprofen.”

  I sighed, closing my eyes. “Spoilsport.”

  A rustling at the edge of the blanket made me open them back up. The white-eared dog, which I now knew was probably a coyote, or at least a figment of a coyote, rested at my feet. “Oh, you again. Go away. You’re not real.” There was a big part of me disappointed it wasn’t my blue-eyed boy.

  The shaman gazed at me curiously.

  I shook my head. “Don’t mind me.” I nodded to the patch he held. “Good drugs,” I said by way of excuse.

  He walked around the edge of my blanket, and I jumped when he stepped throu
gh

  Fido. He knelt down beside me and felt my head. “No fever.”

  “Is that your professional opinion?”

  “You’re funny.” He didn’t smile, those spectacular gray eyes of his gazing wearily at me. “Do you see the spirit?”

  “Huh?” Maybe we were both nut-jobs. “You see it too?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  Great! I’d just admitted to a perfect stranger I saw things. Shaman Billy Bob was a tricky sucker.

  “I don’t see it either.” Hah! Two could play this game.

  He basically ignored me. “Chavvah told me you were powerful. That you can see a spirit is powerful earth magic. I have felt its presence since I brought you here.”

  “Uh, sure. Okay.” Chavvah had talked to him about me. Why? What did this old man know about me? About her?

  “Tell me about the spirit,” he said.

  “Tell me about Chav. Were you friends with her?” I chewed my lip, contemplating the ramifications of telling Billy Bob what I knew. I wanted tit for tat. He had been close enough to Chav that she told him about me. Maybe he knew something that could help me find her.

  I glanced at the ghost or whatever it was. It moved its head onto my leg. He didn’t have any weight to him, which made sense. He isn’t real, I reminded myself. “Dog-like animal, reddish-brown fur, white ear…” It looked up at me. “Green-blue eyes.”

  “I see.” He sat cross-legged on the ground beside me. “Judah.”

  I snapped my gaze to Billy Bob. “You mean…he’s really dead.” I’d known, but I hadn’t known for sure. I would have to tell Babel. Oh, God. I didn’t know if I could.

  Rubbing my arms, I fought to ward off the chill forming inside me.

  “I’m afraid so.” His lips were pursed in thought. “The white ear. It’s most likely him.”

  Great. I was having a whole Haley Joel Osment, I-see-dead-people moment. Though in my case, it was dead animals.

  “This means something, Sunny.”

  “Ya think?” I still didn’t get it. I’d seen Judah in my visions as a man. “Why does his…er…spirit look like a dog? Please don’t tell me when we die we become animals.” If that were true, after death, I’d probably come to on the ethereal plane as a platypus or something.