Her eyes misted. She lifted her arm. Her fingers hovered just above Shala's shining hair.
"Did you kill my mama, Lily?"
Lily dropped her arm.
"Is that what your father told you?"
”Yes.”
"Then you must believe him."
Shala turned her head and stared up, unshed tears covering her blue eyes. Her mother's eyes, Lily thought again, just as she had the day they'd met. Because of me, this wonderful child will never know she has her mother's eyes. Unable to stop herself, she reached for Shala's entwined hands.
"I'm sorry, Shala," she said quietly. "It happened a long time ago, and I would change it if I could."
"The past is gone," Shala replied sagely, letting the fingers of one hand curl around Lily's palm.
"That's right." She stared earnestly into Shala's solemn face. "But I can promise you this. I'll never hurt you, your father, or any of your people again. Do you believe me?"
"You lied to me once, Lily. The word of a liar . . ."
Lily looked away. "I was . . . I was afraid you'd stop liking me."
"Star Dancer said you might say that."
"And what do you say?"
"I say–" Shala's face twisted and she shook her head rapidly. "I don't know what to say."
She pulled her hands from Lily's and whirled away. "I'm going back to the village now. Maybe we'll talk again."
Then she broke into a run. Lily watched until Shala disappeared among the trees, her chest aching so badly she wanted to double over. For the first time in her life she truly loved another human being, and also truly regretted who and what she'd been.
Which was another first.
* * *
Something nudged Tony's face. Slowly he opened his eyes. The logical computer scientist side of his mind recoiled as he stared into round, dark eyes surrounded by a field of white. Impossible, he told himself, white bears didn't exist in the southwest. But his shaman nature reminded him that anything was possible during a vision quest.
The lodge was filled with mist. He vaguely remembered splashing chaparral water over the blazing Stone People, but that seemed so long ago. He had no idea how much time had passed, or whether he was even conscious.
"What brings you here, Brother Bear?" he asked weakly, not sure if he'd actually spoken the words or if they came from his mind.
"Wolf shall be your mate." The bear rocked back on its haunches, crossing one hind leg over the other as a man might do, and stroked its chin thoughtfully.
Although noticing the incongruous gestures, Tony was more occupied with the words. He should be repulsed by the very idea, for he knew of whom the bear spoke. But he felt only delicious anticipation.
"This is not right," he said, unwilling to accept his true feelings.
"She will nourish your offspring in ways you cannot and awaken a love in you that now seems impossible."
"Impossible," Tony repeated with a short derisive laugh. "She murdered my wife."
"Hatred hardens your heart. You think you keep it to honor your wife, Warrior, but you deceive yourself. It serves only to conceal your doubts about your life among the Dawn People. If you do not face these doubts, monstrous events will occur."
"These forces are already in motion. Turn to her, Warrior. Her valiant spirit will support you in this task. Remember, the fish that insists on swimming upstream becomes dinner for the bear. Relax into the current and all will be well."
The mist swirled around the bear's great head. It inhaled sharply, forming great smoke rings on its exhaled breath. Tony stared up with glazed eyes, feeling the rings tugging at his spirit.
The bear chucked him under the chin. "We wait to see the glory of your surrender.”
Then its form began to fade.
"Wait," Tony cried. "I . . . I have questions . . ."
Paler and paler it got, until nothing remained but a button nose and two large brown eyes.
"Call on me, brother, in the hour of your greatest need."
Then it vanished, leaving only the rising rings in its wake. Their tug on Tony's spirit increased, pulling his awareness up and beyond. The heat of the sweat lodge disappeared, the roof no longer existed.
A star-studded sky enclosed him, yet he felt a brewing storm. His weary neck gave out and his head fell back. His eyes fluttered closed. Soon he felt something sweetly hot and soothing against his skin. He opened his eyes and found himself looking down at a woman's face.
Eyes dark as Apache tears and shadowed with sexual hunger stared up at him. A sheet of pure silky white hair framed her high, prominent cheekbones, accentuating the narrow chin and full, round lips. Her strong long-fingered hands stroked the taut muscles of his back. Her thighs were sweetly parted, allowing him to press the fire between his legs against the beckoning moistness that promised to calm the flames.
"Tony." She sighed, her voice husky with need.
Tony kissed the curve of her jaw, filled with overwhelming tenderness, irresistible need. She shuddered deliciously. Her hand movements quickened to a frenzy, driving him wild. He lifted his head abruptly and claimed her mouth in a violent kiss. She returned it just as violently, bucking beneath him.
Slick she was, and hot, so, so hot, meeting and fanning the fire in his belly. Their tongues danced and their teeth clashed. He cried out as he claimed her, sliding his engorged self inside her.
The sky exploded with lightning. Thunder roared, and the night grew bright as day. She sighed and gasped beneath him, her cries mingling with the sky sounds. His convulsion came as suddenly and intensely as the lightning, and bordered on pain. But with such sweet and tender pain he found himself begging for more. Begging, begging . . .
"Lily," he groaned huskily. "Oh, my sweet Lily. How I love you."
Chapter Fourteen
Lily shot upright in her bed, wide awake and shivering violently. She heard thunder rumbling outside, the sound of wind rattling the roofs of the hogans and wickiups below. Flashes of lightning came through the window, and the air felt thick and heavy, and very warm. She shouldn't be shivering, she realized, clutching her light summer blanket to ward off the cold.
Something felt wrong, very wrong. Although the chill weakened her ability, she extended her hearing to take in the entire village. A sheep gave out a forlorn bleat. Some of the pigs grunted anxiously in their pens. People snored in their beds.
A spasmodic shudder raced through Lily's body. Springing from the bed, she raced through the curtained door to the edge of the walkway beyond. Holding back her whipping hair, she surveyed the village. From the churning sky, a three-quarter moon beamed a misty light onto the village. Banked fires glowed dully inside their pits. No one stirred around them or on the lower walkways. Apparently the sound of the animals hadn't disturbed anyone but her. She sniffed the air and caught a faint but distinctive odor.
They were out there. How they found their way through the maze, she didn't know, but they had.
A man came out of the shadow of the cliffs, walking through the village with his back to her. Suddenly how the werewolves got in wasn't important. The man was in terrible danger! Lily squinted, listened intently, drawing on all the powers she'd retained. Brush stirred at the entrance to the maze, moving against the wind, and in its shadows she heard the low rumblings of the Lupine language.
"Watch out!" she shouted, but too late. The man disappeared into the foliage. Lily held her breath, waiting for a scream, sickened that she'd brought this curse to the Dawn People. Lightning ripped through the clouds above, wind whistled, thunder echoed off the canyon walls, but the scream didn't come.
Then the man reappeared to stand by the maze entrance, looking back. Seconds later, two werewolves joined him. Their faces were shaded by the towering trees, but Lily recognized the taller wolf as Beryl. The subservient actions of the other told her it was an omega.
But who was the man hidden in the shadows, and why hadn't Beryl and his companion killed him? Then the man pointed to a hogan near the
longhouse, and
Lily's hand flew to her mouth. He was pointing at Star Dancer's hogan!
Pivoting back and forth, momentarily paralyzed by fear, Lily finally got hold of herself and ran into her room. Her linen jacket hung on a peg, unworn and almost forgotten. She ripped it from the wall, shrugging into it as she slipped on her sandals. After patting the pocket to make sure the bottles and knife were still there, she made a dash for the ladder.
Just as she swung a leg over the edge, she saw Beryl enter the heart of the village.
"Shala," he crooned seductively. "Shaal-laa. Come to me. Come to me."
"No!" Lily scrambled onto the ladder as fast as she could. "Leave her alone, Beryl!"
At one time her order would have sent him scuttling back. The Queen had spoken. Now he lifted triumphant eyes toward her, showing his fangs in a wolfish smile.
Do not interfere, he warned telepathically.
Lily considered screaming for help. Drawing on her own psychic powers she entered the minds of the tribespeople. Beryl had enchanted their dreams, essentially drugging them into deep sleep. It was for the best, she decided. If she called on them, more would die in their attempts to subdue the werewolves.
The ground seemed even farther away than she remembered, and she quickened her descent. Thunder clapped again. Several fat raindrops fell on her head. About halfway down, her feet slipped. For a terrifying moment she hung several stories above the ground, supported only by her grasping hands. Finally she found a rung.
"Shala, Shala," Beryl continued calling "Come to me, Shala."
Moving cautiously for fear of again losing footing, Lily dared a glance at the village. The door to Star Dancer's hogan opened. A small hand emerged. Shala's dreamy face appeared, and she stepped across the threshold.
"Shala, come . . . come to me, Shala."
Angry streaks of lightning tore through the night, illuminating Beryl and Shala like a spotlight. The girl's eyes looked vacant, unaware of anything but Beryl's voice. His eyes shone with satisfaction. The high winds whipped the surrounding trees, sent the kettles swaying on their spits. Flames spurted from the banked fires.
Dark hair billowing, Shala continued moving like a sleepwalker in response to Beryl's seductive call.
The ladder rattled and trembled. Although the rain had stopped as quickly as it had come, the rungs were now slippery. Lily could barely keep her hold, and the going was excruciatingly slow. By the time she reached solid ground, Shala was within a few feet of Beryl. Lily grabbed a bottle from her pocket and broke into a run.
The gusting wind slowed her down. Beryl laughed uproariously, then gave a great leap, landing beside Shala. He scooped her into his arms, and with another leap disappeared into the maze.
Lily dashed after him, racing along the twisting trail, ignoring the twigs and brambles snagging at her skin. Her exposed toes struck rocks and fallen branches with painful regularity, her lungs were aching from lack of oxygen, and the fierce wind pounded at her body.
Branches cracked and brush snapped as Beryl covered ground in front of her, audible even above the sounds of the storm, and before Long Lily realized he was moving at a pace well below his capability. A couple of times she took a wrong turn into one of the maze's dead ends and heard him pause, waiting until she found her way back. He was luring her. Using Shala as bait. Clearly, Sebastian had learned of her affection for the girl. But how?
Soon she recognized a rock formation alongside the trail and noted that the temperature was falling. They were heading south and upward, clinging to the canyon rim. The saguaro and chaparral were thinning, replaced by scrub oak and grasses. If they continued on this path, the oaks would grow taller and be joined by pines and ash.
Shala began singing in the Dawn People's language, still enchanted and unaware of the danger. Beryl made no attempt to hush her, confirming Lily's conclusion that she was walking into a trap.
A loud clap of thunder drowned out the song, and when the echoes subsided, and Lily again heard Shala's voice, the full horror of their situation crashed down on her. She'd been pushing it back while she raced after Beryl, but now she recognized the fiendish perfection of Sebastian's scheme.
He knew of her weakness for children. They'd quarreled about it once. He'd been hungrily eyeing a boy who couldn't have been more than two, and she'd stepped between him and the toddler. He joked that he wanted an appetizer, which had sickened Lily, and she sarcastically accused him of demeaning himself by preying on such defenseless ones.
He called her "unnatural," and they'd quarreled bitterly, but eventually he had just laughed and indulged her sensibilities.
Since that day, Lily had protected hundreds of children she hadn't even known, but the child in Beryl's arms meant more to her than any person on earth. Sebastian somehow knew that and was using it against her.
And he wasn't feeling indulgent anymore.
* * *
Tony regained awareness filled with the glowing aftermath of lovemaking. He rose and poured one last scoop of water on the smoldering Stone People, offered thanks for his vision, then left the sweat lodge. He headed down the hill, suffused with so much energy that by the time he reached the river there was a bounce in his step.
The rainless storm he'd expected had appeared, but he ignored the danger of the lightning and waded into the river, where he dipped his head and drank his fill. Then leaning back to float, he allowed the water to rinse the grime from his hair, combing the tangles free with his fingers. He felt cleansed, renewed, filled with oneness and having no need to analyze what he'd been told. The Great Spirit had answered his prayers. He could ruminate deeper meanings later.
He luxuriated in the cool water for some time, letting it soothe his parched body. Finally he climbed out, shook out his wet hair, then went to his satchel and pulled out a slice of jerky. As he was about to take a healthy bite, he felt a sudden need to check on Shala. With an ease he took for granted, he sent the hawk form up into the windswept sky.
The impulse hadn't particularly alarmed him; he was accustomed to this periodic need to connect with his daughter. Ripping off a hunk of meat with his teeth, he chewed, savoring his first taste of food in over two days and letting his awareness idly follow the hawk's.
When the images came, he dropped the meat and shot to his feet. His beloved Shala was in the arms of a werewolf! A second werewolf plodded beside them. A tribesman he couldn't identify from that height lagged behind, struggling to keep pace. Undoubtedly the hapless man had tried to come to Shala's aid and had become a captive himself.
Farther back, he saw Lily, her breath heaving as she hurried to catch up. For a second Tony thought she was trying to rescue Shala. But that couldn't be. Werewolves could travel at dizzying speeds, and surely with their keen hearing they knew she was there.
He'd just held that woman in his arms. In a vision, true, but one so real he might as well have lived it. A cry of denial and rage erupted from Tony's throat, the emotions so overwhelming he lost his connection with the hawk.
He forced himself to concentrate on the bird's movements—the flutter of wings, the shallow dip of the neck with each stroke, the wind blowing through feathers. Soon he again saw what it saw. Lily.
With a small cry of pain, she stumbled and grabbed for her injured foot. The werewolves paused, looking back. She inspected the injury, then dropped her foot. Hesitating uncertainly, almost as if reconsidering, she reached in the pocket of her jacket. Then, taking some deep breaths, she started after the werewolves again.
Something about the gesture made Tony recall her earlier defense of Sebastian. His conclusion clicked into place, confirmed. Lily hadn't abandoned her king after all. She'd merely become his homing device to lead him to the Dawn People.
His renewed hatred combined with his fear for Shala and threatened to debilitate him, so he honed his resolve with action. Stripping off his loincloth, he ripped clothing from the satchel. Moments later he was in hemp breeches, clasping the belt of his hunting
knife sheath around the waist.
Next he checked a small pocket on his belt for the supply of ammonia inhalant capsules he'd put there after he'd purchased them in Flagstaff—his only true defense against the werewolves. Reassured, he stepped into his moccasins.
Putting his hand firmly on the hilt of his knife, Tony loped toward the riverside trail.
He should have wondered why the spirits hadn't delivered him from hate as they'd promised. But he didn't. His heart was so full of it he could only imagine the pleasure he would take in killing Lily.
Chapter Fifteen
The desert terrain had disappeared miles back, and Beryl was leading Lily ever higher, deeper inside the forest, into parts of the canyon she knew like the back of her hand. Although the deliberately clumsy footfalls of the werewolves and Shala's high, sweet voice still reached her ears, she had no idea how far ahead they were.
On her right, Lily saw an earthen embankment where she might get a better view. Trotting over to it, she grabbed a tree branch and hoisted herself onto a narrow ledge that formed a foothold in the dirt. Although the damp soil was somewhat slippery, the drought-hardened ground beneath was still firm and supported her easily. The rising wind made the branch she was holding insecure, so she reached for a larger one. Steadying herself, she peered through bobbing leaves, searching for the two enormous wolfish heads.
They were about a half mile ahead, moving slowly, making a lot of unnecessary noise. Behind them was the man she'd seen at the village. The sky suddenly crackled with lightning. Thunder rumbled. The werewolves' noises were momentarily lost, as was Shala's song.
Beryl undoubtedly didn't know her vision and hearing were nearly as acute as his. Lily also suspected he'd sent out his telepathic threat to her at the village instinctively, and had no idea she'd received it. His ignorance would work to her advantage.
Extending her psyche, she tentatively and quickly probed Beryl's mind. What a simple mind he had, lacking complex thought, merely following instructions, and she easily read his intentions.
Chills & Thrills Paranormal Boxed Set Page 39