by Jami Gray
Forcing a semblance of sympathy, she said, “Right now, I can assure you that both myself and Mr. Castle would not be interested in moving forward with any sale.”
“I don’t think you understand, Ms. Whiteriver, when I say this is not good, I mean that the BLM may take issue with this. Especially as they entered the negotiations in good faith.”
“A threat, Mr. Atwood?” Her question carried a dangerous bite.
He paled but remained resolute. “Not a threat, Ms. Whiteriver, simply stating a fact.”
Obviously, this pending deal carried more weight than they realized. Wanting to ensure that this politically inclined opportunist didn’t convince himself to keep pushing the issue, she allowed some of her anger at Tomás’s betrayal to leak into her voice, adding a cutting edge. “You may want to remind your contact at BLM that the lands given to the Nations are federally protected. As part of this deal includes their land, and we value our relationship with the tribes, you can rest assure that Rojos Lobos is prepared to make it very, very painful for the BLM, or any other interested party, to pursue this matter any further.”
Atwood swallowed, color seeping along his cheeks, but no matter how much he wanted to push, he chose the wiser course, even as frustration leaked through his voice. “I will be sure to pass your message along.”
“Be sure you do.” She stood, and, next to her, Cheveyo did the same.
Atwood rose as well and cleared his throat. “May I inquire as to who will be taking Mr. Chavez’s position?”
“That would be Tobias Greene, out of Tucson.” Catching a heightened interest in his gaze, Tala’s smile grew razor sharp. “Rest assured, Mr. Atwood, he will not be following in Mr. Chavez’s footsteps.”
Chapter Sixteen
“So what did we learn?” Cheveyo kept his eyes closed as he reclined in the passenger seat while Tala headed out of Phoenix. The effects of dream walking were finally catching up, and his body craved some serious down time.
“Tomás is a dick.”
He didn’t bother to hide his grin at her clipped response. “Besides that, awéé.”
“Tomás is a really big dick.”
He cracked an eye open and turned his head. “Careful, your temper’s showing.” And it looked damn good on her too. Color rode high in her sculpted cheekbones, and when she turned her glare on him, her dark eyes sparked with a not-so-hidden fire.
“If I had known what the bastard was planning, I would’ve skinned him, instead of making it quick.” She hissed a curse and yanked the SUV into the next lane, zipping by the sedan doing the speed limit. She thumped her fist against the steering wheel—twice. “How was he planning on getting away with it?”
‘It’ meant selling the land out from under the combined noses of the other two Kyn leaders. He closed his eye and returned to his previous position, his burst of amusement fading. “Unfortunately, I can think of a couple different ways he could’ve done it.”
“Without being caught?” Disbelief rode her question like a tick.
“Yep.” He left it at that because the paths his thoughts traveled were dark and twisted.
When he didn’t say anything more, she lasted a full minute before demanding, “Spill, Cheveyo.”
His hands, clasped over his stomach, tightened, and when his knuckles began to ache, he forced them to relax. He didn’t want to be the one to upend her life. Not again. Resentment clashed with practicality. Gods, he didn’t want to put this out there, but Tala couldn’t protect herself if she didn’t know where the danger was coming from.
Still, he couldn’t keep the hard edge from his voice, “Be very certain you want to open this particular box, Tala.”
Eyes closed, he waited for her answer, feeling the tension skyrocket between them.
“Don’t.”
One word, all but vibrating with age-old anger and resentment predating the current situation, snapped his eyes open. When he turned, he found her looking at him, the emotions in her eyes a raging tempest tearing into his chest and left an icy ache in its wake.
She waited until she knew she had his attention before adding, “I haven’t needed your protection in a very long time, Cheveyo.”
The dismissal in her tone rankled, making his response sharper than intended. “You’ve made that crystal fucking clear, but right now, when you don’t know who you can trust, you do.”
Her hands tightened on the wheel, and a muscle jumped in her jaw. “And if I can’t trust you?”
The verbal bullet slammed home with brutal force, the impact shattering bright pieces he hadn’t known existed.
She paled, then flushed, “Dammit, Cheveyo, I’m—”
“Stop,” he snapped. Fighting back his kneejerk reaction to return fire, he locked his emotions down and chose to deal with the fallout later, when she wasn’t driving a damn SUV up the mountain. “Tomás wasn’t stupid. He knew he would need your and Rio’s approval to go through with the land deal. Based upon what Atwood shared, and Tomás’s unprovoked attack, it’s safe to assume Tomás’s plan to get that approval was to kill you.”
“Even if I was dead, Rio wouldn’t let him go through with it.” She followed his example and stayed on topic.
“Rio doesn’t matter,” his voice remained detached and cold, mirroring the icy chill of his emotions. “If you step back and look at recent events—the attacks on Toby, the attack on you, Tomás’s indication of a partner—the emerging pattern is simple, but effective.”
“Say Tomás did manage to kill me, then what was his next move?”
“If the attacks on Toby were successful, Tomás could claim self-defense in attacking you.”
She stiffened. “Because it would look like a Magi’s spell killed one of his alphas.” Her fingers drummed on the wheel. “Even if he got rid of me, Amelia or Joseph would step in, and neither one would be inclined to make a decision on the sale of the land without input from my people.”
“There’s nothing that guarantees your seat goes to either one.”
She slid him a look. “You’re talking about Tomás’s supposed partner.” She turned her attention back to the road, shifting lanes as they overtook a semi on the uphill curve. “I thought you were convinced his partner was Leo.”
“I never said he was my only suspect.”
She snorted. “That’s the impression you gave.” Her lips curved into a bitter twist. “Playing games, Cheveyo?”
Anger simmered under his ice-enshrouded emotions. “I told you before, I don’t play games.”
“Then what would you call it?”
“Acknowledging the possibilities, since focusing on a singular assumption is liable to kill you.” Okay, maybe he wasn’t above striking back.
Her mouth thinned, and her voice turned brittle. “Who else do you think is his partner then?”
“Wyatt, Hadley, or Teagan.” He ignored her sharp inhale and relentlessly continued, “Your choice if it’s one or a combination of all of them.”
Her laugh held disbelief. “Please. You may as well add Danny to that list.”
“Who says I haven’t?” His question fell between them like a stone.
Her hands jerked on the wheel, causing the SUV to jog in its lane before she recovered.
He ignored the surge of remorse at taking the last of her security away. There was no room for illusions when you ruled a house, and Tala was more stubborn than most. He knew her, knew that no matter how deep she hid it, her faith in those who she called friends ran deep. Unfortunately, experience was a cruel teacher. Better it come from him than a blade buried in her back.
In the console between them, his cell rang, slicing through the tension-laden air. He picked it up and saw Chay’s number. “Hello.”
“We’re going to be stuck here for the night,” Chay said without any preamble.
“What happened?”
“They sent us to the wrong salvage yard.” Chay’s frustration came through loud and clear. “By the time we tracked down the right one, th
ey were closed.” The familiar sound of car locks releasing came through the open line. “Won’t open until seven tomorrow.”
Chay’s implication hit and Cheveyo caught a glimpse of grim satisfaction in his reflection from the passenger window. Looked like Tala was running out of escape options. Tonight it would just be the two of them. Well, them and Ash. “All right, then you’d better get checked in to a hotel for the night and hit it first thing in the morning.”
“Will do.” On Chay’s end a car door slammed shut.
Before Chay could hang up, Cheveyo said, “One more thing, swing by the hospital and see if the name Mason Atwood rings any bells for Rory.”
“Mason Atwood?”
“He’s with Arizona Land Managers Association and was at the forum Rory attended yesterday. Seems he was brokering a land deal between Tomás and the BLM.”
“Is that right?” The question was followed by an engine turning over.
“Yep, but it may be best to keep that piece to yourself for right now.”
“Understood. And Cheveyo?” Chay paused, soft electronic dings going off in the background. “Watch your ass.”
Chay’s implacable warning raised the hairs along Cheveyo’s arms. “I will.” He hung up and stared out the windshield as streaks of purple and pink stained the sky.
“What happened?” Tala’s question cut through his preoccupation.
He dropped his phone back into the console. “They got sent to the wrong salvage yard, and can’t get into the right one until tomorrow morning.”
She didn’t say anything, and he resettled in his seat, letting his eyes close in a vain attempt to block her out while he tried to get a handle on the devastation she left in her wake.
Behind the mask of his feigned sleep, he began untwisting the knots of his volatile emotions. There was one thing he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, unintentional though it was, the hurt he caused her by leaving had done more damage than he even imagined.
Tala wasn’t a woman who easily forgave or forgot—a fact he witnessed many times, and it was a bone of contention they fought over when they were together all those years ago. If he had to guess, the passage of time had simply refined and strengthened that aspect. She might understand the logic of his decision, but forgiveness of it? The phrase “when hell freezes over” became an apt descriptor.
The thing he couldn’t grasp was why that angry reaction remained so strong for her. The bond dragging him back here, the one refusing to let her go, it wasn’t one sided. He caught glimpses of it when she wasn’t trying to keep him at a distance. But the minute he started getting close, out came the verbal claws, and they were merciless.
The memory of her touch, of the yearning ache she tried to hide last night during their conversation, teased him with the promise of possibility. But it was her smile, full of wistful heartache haunting him. Instinct whispered she was hiding something, hiding it deep, leaving her afraid to share. And it had nothing to do what was currently happening, because whatever it was had existed long before this situation.
But what was it? What could she possibly fear when it came to him? He was the last person who would ever mean her harm. Hell, he was constantly battling his need to wrap her up and keep her safe. Not because she needed it, but because he did, for his own peace of mind.
“I’m sorry.” It was a hesitant peace offering.
He blinked open his eyes and turned his head to see her focused on the road. The last of the evening’s light was disappearing, replaced by dusk and its entourage of shadows. In the dim light of the dashboard, light and dark played chase over her face.
He didn’t pretend to not understand, and he kept his voice equally soft, unwilling to disturb this fragile truce, but determined to get some answers. “What did I do that you can’t forgive?”
Her face blanched, stark fear and pain striping away the Magi leader and leaving only the woman behind. Her throat worked, her mouth opened then closed, without anything escaping.
“Tala?” Concern had him sitting up.
She turned to look at him, and he barely caught the sheen of wetness in her eyes before they went back to the road. “I can’t.” It came out choked.
His heart took on a heavy beat as her reaction sent dread coiling through him. Whatever secret she carried, it was daunting. When she brushed a shaky hand over her eyes, as if wiping away tears, he frowned, dread twisting to worried concern. “You can’t what?”
She shook her head, blinking furiously. “We can’t do this now.”
Since he had no desire to reenact Rory’s accident, he didn’t push, but he also wanted it clear they weren’t finished with this conversation. “No, not now, but Tala—” He waited for her to acknowledge him. “Tonight we’re going to talk, agreed?”
Her hands flexed on the wheel, but her answer, when it came, was husky with tension and unshed tears, “Agreed.”
Chapter Seventeen
The remainder of the drive passed in uneasy quiet. Cheveyo feigned sleep to give them both a break from the tense undercurrents. By the time Tala pulled into her drive, Cheveyo was ready to crawl out of his skin. When the crunch of gravel sounded from under the tires as she parked, he sat up, noting the VW Bug.
The SUV’s headlights fell over the porch, mixing with the soft light spilling around the curtains shielding the front windows. Tala turned off the headlights just as the front door opened, and Teagan stepped out onto the porch.
Tala pushed open her door and stepped out, meeting her cousin at the top step. Cheveyo remained in the car, giving the two women some privacy. They exchanged words then Teagan handed a key over. Tala took the last step up and wrapped her arms around Teagan.
At first, her cousin remained stiff, then she hesitantly wrapped her arms around Tala’s waist. There was enough light from the house to see Teagan close her eyes, but not enough to reveal the expression on her face. They stepped back and let go. Tala turned to watch Teagan make her way down the stairs.
Cheveyo got out of the SUV, stretching his stiff back. He returned Teagan’s nod as she got into her car and left. The red taillights disappeared down the curving drive and when he turned back to the house, Tala stood on the porch, her arms wrapped around her waist. He closed his door and headed her way. When he got to the top, he curled an arm around her shoulders and nudged her inside. “Let’s go see Ash.”
She didn’t pull away, but she did nod. Together they went inside. Ash looked up from his cushiony dog bed with a soft woof of greeting. Tala pulled away and dropped next to her unlikely pet. She spent a good amount of time scratching his ears and cuddling the furry monster.
Cheveyo left her there and headed to the kitchen. As much as he wanted to figure out what the hell was going on, it didn’t hurt to get something put together for dinner before they tackled the elephant in the room. Besides, a part of him was relieved to avoid the looming confrontation for a little while longer.
He rooted around the fridge, pulled out a pound of hamburger and dumped it in the microwave to defrost. A search of her spice cabinet produced the right combination for tacos. He set the head of lettuce, an onion, a couple of tomatoes, and an avocado on the counter, then proceeded to unearth a cutting board and knife. He didn’t waste time, simply diced the onion first, then moved on to the rest. By the time the microwave dinged, the vegetables were prepped, and he was ready to brown the beef. He knew the minute Tala stopped into the archway, but continued to work on dinner. “Tacos work for you?”
She left the archway and walked closer, stopping on the other side of the counter. “Sure. Want any help?”
“Nope, I’ve got it covered.” He dumped the meat into the pan, flicked on the gas stove, and shot her a quick look. “You’ve got time for a shower, if you want.”
“Um, okay.” An unusual hesitancy in her voice had him looking back.
Exhaustion lined her face, not the physical kind, but the type that sank into your bones when you just didn’t want to deal with the world. If he was a
better man, he wouldn’t push and give her the rest she sorely needed, but he wasn’t that good. “Go, Tala, get comfortable, we’ll eat, then we’ll talk.”
She nodded, turned, and headed down the hall, presumably, to her bedroom.
He let the air out of his chest with a quiet sigh. A few minutes later the sound of the shower coming on drifted down the hall. Instead of letting his brain run around in circles about their impending conversation, he focused on the next steps needed to weed out who was trying to destroy the Southwest Kyn.
While his gut was more than certain the one behind all the current chaos was close, probably too damn close, he couldn’t nix the merciless fist twisting his guts. Dragging that person or persons into the light wouldn’t be enough to stop the threat. Not if it the Council was involved, and he was pretty damn sure it was. Too much rode on the upcoming Council vote. Eleven high-ranking Kyn from all four houses sat on the Council, and Leopold DiMarcco was their unofficial leader.
After centuries in power, he wasn’t about to lose an ounce of it. Especially not to the remnants of Mulcahy’s rebellion. Currently, the Northwest had one rock-solid ally in another council member, Zane Aimeric, and he was doing what he did best—working behind the scenes to gain more support.
The results were frustratingly slow, but as Natasha had made clear, if the Northwest was to face down the Council, they needed more than brute strength, they needed the addition of a political edge.
Yet Leo wasn’t standing idly by while the Northwest tried to align their support. In fact, thanks to an unexpected and very recent partnership between Natasha and the shadowy Darius Abazi, the Northwest was now privy to the fact that Leo was mining fissures from within the American Kyn houses in a masterful manipulation designed to splinter the Kyn.
While the traps Leo laid in Portland failed to create the damage he yearned for, his games had left deep scars and an even deeper hunger for vengeance. Because of Darius’s help, Natasha had taken up Mulcahy’s torch and begun moving her pieces on the Council’s board. One such move resulted in Cheveyo’s current visit. The fact that he shared a personal tie to Tala was frosting on Natasha’s devious cupcake, and she expected him to exploit it.