“Did you believe I would simply turn my back to you?” Wo'itsa confirmed her thoughts, then paused, maybe to give her a chance to answer. His face was inches from hers.
Kendra drew in several shallow breaths. She needed air, and her useless struggle with the Indian was getting exhausting. Surprisingly, the guy didn’t smell like the men at the gym, who were in need of a shower after a five-minute workout. The masculine smell coming off his skin blended in with the scents of the earth and this wilderness.
Staring up into his face, details she hadn’t noticed before emerged. He was pure native. His dark chocolate eyes stared back at her with fierce determination, but there was a hint of softness there as well. While none of the young men on the Rez had ever held her attention because she wanted to get as far away from her native roots as possible, there was something about this man that held her interest. His handsome features, the long raven hair, the proud and confident way in which he trapped her beneath him . . .
Handsome native or not, he was her opponent, and this wasn’t a game she could afford to lose, so she’d better get her head on straight. This was not the time to make puppy-dog eyes at someone who was potentially looking to kill her. Kendra squirmed.
Wo'itsa’s iron hold on her didn’t ease up. “I have told you before, woman. I have no wish to fight you,” he continued. “But you give me no choice if you continue to attack me.”
She sneered, taking in a deep breath as she stared into his eyes. The pounding in her head was nearly blinding, and she blinked to clear her vision.
His dark eyes were on her, holding her prisoner with the same force as the vice-like grip his hands had on her wrists. Both rendered her immobile beneath him. While he used his body to press her into the ground, he didn’t crush her with his full weight on top of her.
“Then why did you attack me earlier? And where’s your elder?”
Wo'itsa raised his body away from her, but his strong grip didn’t ease up.
“I saved your life, woman. You would be dead now if I hadn’t followed you and Mukua.”
Kendra stared up at him. She laughed while struggling against his hold. If she could squirm her way out from under his hard body just an inch or so, she might get a chance to fully free herself.
The guy was like a rock. Straddling her, his hard thighs kept her legs clamped tightly together, and he used just enough of his weight to keep her knees straight, so she couldn’t bend them.
“Saved my life?” she accused. “By hoping to split my head open?”
Wo'itsa’s forehead scrunched. The look in his eyes was one of genuine confusion. His grip on her loosened, but whether he’d done it intentionally or not, Kendra wasted no time. She bucked upward with all the strength she could muster. She rolled her hip to the side at the same time, effectively dislodging the clamp that was his thighs, and brought her knee up into his groin.
His reaction was immediate as he toppled to the side. Kendra scrambled out from beneath him and managed to get to her feet. The dizziness from her headache increased, and she fought to remain standing. Wo'itsa recovered quicker than she’d anticipated and was on his feet almost as fast as she. Her kick clearly hadn’t been strong enough, or the guy had more tolerance to pain than most men.
Kendra braced for his attack as he lunged for her, then stopped when his eyes focused on her arm.
Chapter 10
Wo'itsa gritted his teeth. The wound on his arm hurt enough, and now this woman had inflicted even more pain. She was agile and quick, and the instant he’d let up his guard, she’d taken advantage.
He scoffed at his own stupidity. He should have known better than to be lenient with her. His groin throbbed from the kick she’d inflicted, but she was not going to best him a third time.
Why did he even bother with her? She was surely going to be the death of him. Wo’itsa had only followed her after the woman had taken the elder hostage. He’d given his word to Mukua that he’d find him. The elder counted on him to help him locate the other time travel vessels, and one of them was in this woman’s possession. Mukua might be an elder of the Sky People, but even they were not invincible, and this woman from the future showed no respect for the old ways.
She stood facing him, her stance as determined as before. Pain and a hint of fear clouded her expressive eyes, but she didn’t waver. Neither did he. He’d made the mistake of underestimating her slight stature too many times, but from now on he was going to be ready.
The evening breeze blew strands of her raven hair across her cheeks, drawing his attention to her face. The golden rays of the sun accentuated the complexion of her skin, which wasn’t quite as dark as his own. In fact, it was lighter than any Tukudeka he knew, as if she was of mixed blood.
Wo'itsa blinked and mentally shook his head to reclaim his focus. This was no time to notice her as a female. This woman was dangerous and she was his opponent, perhaps even his enemy.
At every turn, she’d surprised him. He should have tied her with some strips of leather when he’d had the chance earlier, but he’d been taught to treat females with respect. That might not be possible with this one.
Women of the Tukudeka weren’t warriors, but this female from the future was like a fierce cougar that attacked again and again rather than giving up the fight.
Bakianee women were known to fight alongside some of their men, but if this woman belonged to the tribe of his enemies, why did –?
She shifted, turning slightly to the side and holding up her arms as if getting ready to ward off an attack. His eyes fell to her bare upper arm. How had the skin painting escaped his notice before? It certainly was hard to miss, now that his attention was drawn to it.
Wo'itsa’s eyes narrowed. Never had he seen such a lifelike likeness of a wolf, and certainly not painted on someone’s body. It looked as if the drawing was going to detach itself from her skin at any moment and leap from her arm. Were the slashes above the image real, or was it another illusion? Clearly, the mark of a grizzly. Only one other man came to mind who owned such markings, and his were most definitely real.
Cameahwait, Wo'itsa’s boyhood friend, had battled with the fiercest predator in the mountains and he’d lived to tell about it. Few men, and only those with great puha, survived a grizzly attack. To this day, Cameahwait bore the markings of the bear on his back. The shaman had said that Cameahwait’s spirit animal was the bear, and for this reason alone he had survived.
A multitude of questions raced through Wo'itsa’s mind. If this woman carried the likeness of a wolf on her arm, did she consider it her spirit animal? And if so, why was she fighting him and Mukua? What did the bear claw marks above the wolf signify?
“Who are you, woman, and where do you come from?” Wo'itsa directed his attention back to her rather than the tattoo on her arm. Perhaps if he could get her to talk, she’d let her guard down enough for him to subdue her. It might not be too difficult this time. Her eyes were glazed over and not as sharp. The slight waver in her stance gave away that she wasn’t as strong as she’d like him to believe.
Her fall earlier had resulted in a blow to her head that had left her unconscious for some time. Streaks of dried blood marred the side of her temple. No doubt she was in a lot of pain that couldn’t be disguised, no matter how hard she tried.
Her body tensed in response to his question, and she didn’t answer right away. Her hesitation indicated that she was thinking about how to reply, if she would reply at all. She scoffed and shook her head as if she didn’t believe her own response.
“My name is Kendra, and I come from the twentieth century,” she spat, almost defiantly. “And, I really want to know where I am and what’s going on here.”
So, it was as he’d already suspected. She truly had come from another time. She and Mukua had met before, and she’d been as defiant with him then as she was now.
“You should listen to Mukua. He will give you answers. He has already offered to return you to your own time in return for the vessel.
”
“Vessel?” She scoffed again. “You’re talking about the snakehead? Why don’t you tell me how that thing works, then I’ll just head home on my own. No need to get your elder involved.”
Wo'itsa shook his head while his forehead scrunched. “Even if I knew how the vessel worked, it would not be my place to tell you. Mukua is guardian of the sacred mountains, and in order to protect them from great evil that will come, you must surrender the vessel to him.”
She laughed, then flinched and drew in a quick breath. Her hand flew to the side of her head. Wo'itsa took a step forward, but she instantly resumed her defensive stance and glared at him.
“I’m investigating a murder. I’m not about to hand something over to someone who is a prime suspect in my case.” Her voice was more strained with each word she uttered.
Pain clouded her eyes, but she’d die before she admitted that she was hurt. Wo'itsa reached out his hand, then motioned to the fire he’d built a while ago, and the poultice he’d prepared to treat his own wound on his arm. Perhaps another tactic would work better.
“You’re hurt. I have something that might help.” If she’d allow him to tend to her wounds first, maybe she’d be more agreeable.
“I’m hurt thanks to you. If you hadn’t attacked me, I wouldn’t have hit my head.”
Wo'itsa’s forehead scrunched. “If I hadn’t followed you, you would be dead now, or worse.”
She glared at him through narrowed eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean? You saw the light and realized that your friend, Mukua, is bad news?”
“Not Mukua. A hunting party of Bakianee found your trail.”
She looked more confused than ever. “Your elder put on his disappearing act. The next thing I knew, you grabbed my arm, and that’s when I fell.”
“You mistake me for a Bakianee warrior. There were three of them who were part of a hunting party. They attacked you, not I. You should be grateful I came along at the moment one of the warriors grabbed your arm. When you fell, I managed to scare them off with my bow. They believed I was not alone, so they ran, but they might return.”
Her glazed eyes went to the wound on his arm. “I didn’t do that?” She sounded almost disappointed. Wo'itsa’s lips quivered as he tried to hide a smile. Despite her unusual demeanor, respect for this woman grew.
“Perhaps if it had been you who had inflicted this wound, you would have cut off my entire arm.”
She narrowed her eyes at the laughter in his voice, but didn’t say anything. She swayed again and took a step to the side to regain her balance.
“Give me my jacket, and I’ll be going,” she slurred.
Wo'itsa laughed. “You are in no condition to go anywhere. Sit and rest while we wait for Mukua to return.”
The woman straightened, which took a lot of effort judging by the grimace on her face. She swayed again, then stumbled. Wo'itsa rushed up to her and caught her around the waist before her knees buckled completely. If she fell again, she might do more harm to her head.
“Beware of the wolf,” she mumbled, barely conscious. “I have to beware of the wolf.” Her eyes stared up at him, her disguised fear now clearly visible. “You’re the wolf.”
Wo'itsa frowned. Beware of the wolf? He shook his head. Her injury was playing tricks with her mind. He lifted her fully into his arms to carry her to his fire. She struggled, but all strength had left her body.
“You’re a brave little fighter, but for the time being, you will have to wait until your injury is healed before you decide to attack me again.”
Wo'itsa laid her on the ground next to the fire. He didn’t dare rekindle the small flame. If he was smart, he’d leave this area. There was always the possibility that the Bakianee would return. He glanced around the clearing. What about Mukua? Where had the elder gone?
He surveyed the area for any sign of the old man, but the elder had disappeared. Perhaps he’d taken his vessel and traveled to another time to safety. A slight frown passed over him. Mukua had gone and left the woman to face the fate of the Bakianee? He shook his head. There was no telling why the elder had abandoned her. She’d kidnapped him, after all. Perhaps he was, at this very moment, trying to find someone to come help. The old man would have been useless to defend her against Bakianee warriors.
Mukua might not have even realized there were Bakianee in the area. He might have used his vessel to transport to another time in order to save himself from this woman. There was no telling what she might have done to him.
Wo'itsa mixed more of the poultice he’d used on his arm, spread some on a piece of hide, and held it to the woman’s head. She flinched and hissed while struggling to get to her feet.
“You will die because of your stubbornness,” he growled. “I’m trying to help you.” With more force than he’d intended, he pushed her fully to the ground. She glared up at him, but didn’t argue further. The soothing coolness from the poultice must have taken effect on her head, and perhaps she’d finally seen reason. “Tell me, are all Tukudeka women of the future as ferocious as you? Or, perhaps you are Bakianee?”
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mumbled.
The sun dipped behind the tall lodgepoles, instantly making the temperature drop. A shiver passed through her. Wo'itsa reached for the article of clothing she’d called a jacket and tossed it over her upper body. She still stared at him with suspicious eyes, but stuffed her arms through the sleeves of the covering.
Wo'itsa’s gaze lingered on the tattoo on her arm before she slipped into the jacket. Curiosity nagged at him, but it was best to be cautious. Even if he asked, she wouldn’t tell him anything about the significance of the tattoo. No doubt Mukua would know what it meant.
The woman reached up to her head where he still held the poultice against her temple. She pushed his hand aside and pressed her palm against the injury. The momentary contact of her hand with his sent an odd sensation up his arm. He stared at her. She didn’t flinch or drop eye contact. Had she felt it, too?
Mentally shaking his head, Wo'itsa removed his hand and backed away. To take his eyes off the woman, he stuck a piece of wood in the fire. As the sun dipped further into the horizon, so did the temperature. If he kept the flame low, it would at least offer a little warmth as the night grew colder.
Next to him, the woman stirred. She sat, still pressing the poultice to her temple. Wo'itsa didn’t turn to look at her, but he was ready in case she decided to make another foolish attempt to attack him.
“It would be wise to rest. Your head will feel better in the morning.”
“And then you’ll hand me over to your elder? Maybe I’ll just take my chances in the woods.”
Wo'itsa laughed. “You are barely able to stand, woman. Is the vessel more important than your life?”
There was no response. The rhythmic croaking of frogs grew louder as the last rays of the sun gave way to the night sky. Stars shimmered up above, and the fire crackled softly.
Wo'itsa stared into the flames, his ears honed on the sounds of the forest as well as on the woman. She shifted again, and he risked a glance. The light from the fire flickered in her eyes as she stared back at him. She blinked, then appeared to resign to her fate and moved to rest her head on the ground.
“If you try and attack me again, I will have no choice but to tie your hands,” he warned.
“Then don’t plan on sleeping much tonight,” she whispered, already closing her eyes.
Wo'itsa’s gaze remained on her for several minutes. What to make of her? She was unlike any woman with whom he’d ever crossed paths, including the two other women who’d come from a time in the future. Neither one of them had acted as fearlessly or fought like warriors. This one was a mystery.
The other two women had been gifts from the Sky People to unite with Cameahwait and Matunaaga. Who had sent this woman, and why? Clearly, Mukua didn’t want her in this time. He’d already offered to send her back to where she’d come
from. Perhaps one of the other Sky People had sent her, but again the question remained, for what purpose? If Mukua was fighting a battle with the other elders, it would stand to reason that they had sent the woman.
The markings of the bear above the image of the wolf that were tattooed on her arm started to make more sense. The bear was out to destroy the wolf. Her words earlier, that she had to beware of the wolf, became clear now, as well. She considered the wolf her adversary. He’d been correct to think that he needed to be wary of her. If the other two elders had sent her, it would stand to reason that she favored the Bear Clan.
Bears and wolves are enemies.
Both of the visions he’d received confirmed it. Wo'itsa’s eyes fell to his hornbow. All these years, he had thought of Cameahwait as his friend, almost like a brother. He’d even offered him his bow a couple of seasons ago, as a token of their friendship. Clearly, Cam had come from the line of the bears, and since Wo'itsa’s spirit animal was a wolf, did that make them enemies? Mukua would tell him it was so.
Watching the woman sleep, it was difficult to imagine her as an adversary. The corners of his mouth twitched in a smile. How quickly his memory lapsed as he sat here, staring at her. She’d already proven herself a formidable opponent, and he needed to remain alert to her every move. Right now, she looked small and frail as she lay there, her breathing soft and even.
Wo'itsa drew a long breath of crisp air into his lungs. There wouldn’t be any rest for him tonight. With the injury to her head, it might not be wise to let the woman sleep for long periods of time. He’d have to keep a close eye on her to make sure she was all right. His lips widened even more. When she woke, she would most likely try to attack him again.
He could simply tie her and then not have to worry about an attack. He dismissed the idea. The woman would be more comfortable without having her hands and legs tied, but it meant he had to remain alert at all times. There was absolutely no doubt that she would try to run if given the chance. It was also certain that she’d try to steal his weapons at the least, and perhaps even attempt to kill him.
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