Never Look Back

by Sheri WhiteFeather

  He answered on the fourth ring. "Hello?"

  "It's Allie."

  "I know. I saw your name on the caller ID. What's up?"

  She decided not to waste any time. "Do you know anything about ravens?"

  He made a perplexed sound. "What?"

  "Ravens. Those big, black birds. One flew in my window today."

  "Damn it, Allie. Did you do something weird?"

  "No." She wasn't about to tell him about the raven's transformation. Not because he wouldn't believe her. He'd been involved in combating last year's witchery, and he knew she'd been experimenting with her magic. But she wanted to keep the angel a secret, to let her romantic notions linger. Everyone had a partner but her.

  Kyle was married with a baby on the way. He'd wed a homicide detective, a lady Allie respected and admired. She'd helped them get together, in the same way she'd helped Olivia commit to her FBI lover. Allie liked playing matchmaker. She'd always believed in love.

  Kyle's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Are you sure you didn't do anything weird?"

  "Yes." She wasn't lying. Not completely. She was simply omitting a few details. "I'm just curious about ravens now."

  "Then you should talk to Daniel Deer Runner. He's a member of my Warrior Society."

  How was one of Kyle's hard-edged militants going to help? She wasn't looking for someone to hunt the bird down and kill it. "Why should I talk to him?"

  "Because he's half Lakota, like you, but he has a tribal affiliation with the Haida Nation, too. Raven is a demigod to them, a major part of their mythology."

  Her pulse jumped. Any little bit would help. She reached for a pen and paper. "What's his number?"

  "Hold on. I've got it programmed in my phone." A second later, he rattled it off.

  Allie jotted it down. Then she drew a black bird on the paper, coloring its wings with bold marks. "What does Daniel do?"

  "He's a veterinary technician at the zoo."

  She looked at Samantha. The cat was curled into a ball, napping on a gold-tasseled pillow. "So he would know about real ravens, too? And not just the mythological kind?"

  "That's why I recommended him."

  "Thanks, Kyle."

  "Sure."

  She said goodbye and disconnected the line, preparing to call Daniel Deer Runner.

  For now, he was just what Allie needed.

  * * *

  The following day at five-thirty, Allie arrived at Daniel's house. He lived in an average district of North Hollywood, where nondescript homes blended into each other. But not Daniel's. His in-need-of-repair structure sat on a bed of dying grass and flourishing weeds, with a weathered tire hanging from a solitary tree.

  She exited her economy car and noticed that he drove what she called a terrorist van. The white, nearly windowless vehicle was parked in an oil-stained driveway.

  His house was even worse than Kyle's, and that wasn't an easy feat. Kyle was a junk dealer.

  She trudged up the walkway, dodging loose stones and chipped cement. She rang the bell, but nothing happened. Figures. It was broken.

  As she knocked on the door, she noticed a brittle green hose rolled up in the dismal flower bed. An ugly brown spider had built its home in the center of the hole. She made a disturbed expression. She hated bugs.

  "You must be Allie," a deep voice said.

  She jerked to attention, unaware that the door had swung open. "And you must be Daniel." He looked like a Native American nerd, with a solid, six-foot-plus frame and horn-rimmed glasses. His medium-length kettle-black hair was combed straight back, revealing a square jaw, a flat-bridged nose and killer cheekbones.

  Did he think the glasses made a pseudo/L.A./artsy statement?

  Behind the dorky specs, he checked her out. His gaze swept the long, lithe length of her, taking in her Southwestern flair—the loose cotton fabrics and silver-and-turquoise jewelry she'd bought at a pawnshop.

  She assessed his style and noticed that his white, button-down shirt and shrink-to-fit Levi's were clean and pressed. She thought it was weird when people ironed their jeans, but at least he hadn't put a crease in them. On his feet, he wore a pair of high-top, black-and-white tennis shoes.

  "So what do you think of my house?" he asked.

  Allie didn't know what to say. She glanced at the garden hose. Its occupant had disappeared.

  "That bad, huh?" He gave her a goofy grin. "And here I thought this place was a chick magnet."

  She couldn't help but smile. "Not quite."

  "Was it the spider that ruined it for you? He and I are buds." He turned to look at the web and noticed that it was vacant. "Traitor." He grinned at Allie again. "I should have known better than to trust an arachnid."

  She almost laughed. Maybe the arachnid didn't want to turn into an arachnerd by living so close to him. "You'll have to be more careful next time. Choose your friends a little more wisely."

  "No kidding. Do you want to come in?"

  "Okay." Strange as he was, he was starting to grow on her. He smelled like Brylcreem, a men's hair product that had been around since the '50s. Her dad had used the goop, too.

  "I just moved here," Daniel said as she crossed the threshold. "The landlord offered me a deal on the rent if I fixed it up. I already started on the inside."

  Allie looked around. The chestnut-colored carpet and beige drapes were old, but she could tell that the walls held a fresh coat of paint. He'd decorated with light-toned woods, a tan couch and a leather recliner. A few leopard-print pillows were tossed in for good measure.

  It needed a bit more color, maybe a splash of red, but overall it wasn't bad.

  "Do you want a soda?" he asked.

  "Sure." She followed him into the kitchen, where ancient white appliances, a chipped sink and a vinyl floor with an avocado-green pattern from the '70s had been scrubbed clean.

  He opened the fridge and handed her a generic cola. "I bought those peel-and-stick squares for the floor. But I haven't had time to rip up this stuff yet."

  She fought the urge to move closer to him, but she knew it wouldn't ease her soul. The smell of his hair was making her homesick for her childhood, for the innocence that had been long since shattered.

  As silence engulfed them, he watched her flip the tab on her soda and take a drink. Allie wasn't the self-conscious type, but his scrutiny was a bit too intense.

  "Why do you want to know about ravens?" he asked.

  "Because one flew in my window yesterday."

  "No shit?"

  She nodded, repeating what she'd told Kyle, revealing only a portion of what had actually happened.

  He stuck his hands in his pockets. "Raven keeps the world from being boring."

  "Did he create it?" she asked, inquiring about Haida beliefs.

  "In a sense." Daniel shifted his weight. "But Raven is more of a transformer, a trickster, than a creator."

  Her heart struck her chest. Last year, during all of the witch madness, she'd had dealings with Coyote, another Native American trickster. And those experiences weren't the least bit pretty. But this was different, wasn't it? Raven was her angel.

  "Did it bite you?" Daniel asked suddenly. "Is that what the bandage on your arm is from? Let me take a look at it." He reached for her wrist.

  "It's fine." She pulled away from him, and when she did, she caught a dark shadow outside his kitchen window.

  In the shape of a big, black bird.

  Chapter 2

  Daniel moved in front of the window, trying to get her attention. Damn him. She pushed him out of the way, but it was too late.

  The shadow was gone.

  Daniel darted in front of the window again. "What's wrong with you?"

  "Nothing." Allie could only assume that the raven was watching her. That he'd followed her here. As for Daniel, he was too absorbed in her bite. She should have worn long sleeves.

  He adjusted his glasses where they'd slipped down his nose. A strand of his Brylcreemed hair had fallen onto his forehead, to
o. "Let me see your wound."

  "What for?"

  "I just want to see it."

  Getting bitten by a bird was nothing compared to what she'd been through. She'd battled bewitched bats and mutantlike giants. But worse yet was her mother. Allie's mom was a convicted serial killer. It was something she and her sister would never live down.

  "Don't be stubborn," he pressed.

  "Fine." She set her soda on the counter and removed the bandage. Did he know about her mom? Sometimes Allie and Olivia got crank calls. And sometimes people treated them like ghoulish celebrities. The thought sickened her. "See?"

  He examined her skin. "It's not as bad as it could've been." He glanced up, catching her gaze. "You don't need stitches."

  "Told you."

  "Lucky for you the West Nile Virus isn't transmitted from birds to humans. Ravens are susceptible to the disease." He turned her arm, studying it from another angle. "What did you do to piss him off?"

  "What makes you think my raven is male?"

  He stalled for a second, getting an analytical look on his face. The expression seemed natural on him. She decided that he had a high IQ. That it wasn't just his dorky demeanor creating a book-smart illusion.

  "I'm not sure," he responded, not giving her a clear-cut response about the bird's gender. "So, what did you do?"

  She lost focus. "What?"

  "To upset the raven?"

  "I accidentally knocked him on the ground. But I apologized for that. I tried to soothe him. I think he bit me because my cat plucked a feather from his tail."

  Daniel frowned. "You were in the line of fire?"

  She rebandaged her arm. "Yes."

  He tilted his head. "What makes you think he was male?"

  "I could tell."

  "How? The sexes generally look alike."

  She took a wild guess, hoping she was correct, hoping she could fool him. "It was a rather large bird, and I assume that males are bigger."

  "Sometimes," he said. "But not always. Females make a knocking sound the males don't make. Did it make any noises?"

  "Just a loud caw. Do they make a lot of different sounds?"

  "Totally. They're masters at mimicry. They can imitate just about anything."

  She glanced at the window. She wished the shadow would reappear. "Do you mind if we go outside?"

  He perked up. "To swing on the tire?"

  Lord, he was odd. "I don't think we'll both fit. Maybe we can just stand beneath the tree."

  "Okay." He smiled a little. "I'm not dumb enough to say no to a pretty girl."

  Was he flirting? She hoped not. She had another male on her mind. And this one had long flowing hair, a slightly scarred chest and breathtaking wings.

  They proceeded outside, where the sky shimmered on the brink of dusk. Branches clawed and climbed above their heads, with leaves rustling in a late-afternoon breeze. He ran his hands along the rope that secured the tire, and she assumed that he needed to touch something. That he was a physical person.

  She looked up. "Do ravens nest in these types of trees?"

  "Sure. In the city, they roost wherever there's a suitable platform to build a nest." He smoothed his hair, pushing away the lock that had fallen earlier.

  "What about mating?" she asked.

  "What about it?" he parroted, studying her with a look that made her uncomfortable.

  Did he have to be so intense? So curious about her? Why couldn't he just answer her questions like the animal expert he was?

  And then she remembered that there was more to Daniel than being a veterinary technician at the zoo. He was part of Kyle's Warrior Society, a group of former military men who excelled at close-quarter combat and fought for Native causes. They protected Indian burial sites, and sometimes they stole sacred objects, items that had gotten past the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act, and returned them to whom they believed were the rightful owners. So far, they hadn't been caught.

  Of course, Kyle had stopped stealing after he'd fallen in love with a cop. But Allie had no idea what Daniel Deer Runner did in his spare time. Aside from avoid questions about mating birds.

  "I think the raven is following me," she said. "That I saw him at your window," Allie admitted.

  Daniel frowned. "Maybe it was a shadow or something."

  "You don't believe me? You think I imagined him?" She crossed her arms. She wasn't about to tell him that the figure at his window did look like a shadow. "Don't you believe in animal medicine? In spirit guides?"

  "Of course I do. But Raven is a trickster. You can't be sure if he followed you here. Or why he appeared to you in the first place."

  "That's what's driving me crazy." She softened her body language. Getting defensive around Daniel wouldn't help. And now that she was outside, there was no sign of a big, black bird. "In Northwest mythology, does Raven ever shape-shift into a man? Or a man with wings?"

  He reached for the rope again. "As far as I know, he can shift into any form. But I haven't heard all of the stories. I've only been to Canada a few times. That's where my mother's people are, but I barely know them. She died when I was a boy." He sighed, the sound as rough as the twisted nylon in his hand. "I don't think it matters what form he takes. From what I recall, he helps humans, even through his trickery."

  "So I don't need to fear him?"

  "No. But trying to analyze him won't be easy. To the Haida, he can be greedy and lecherous, even through his good deeds." Daniel released the rope. "Whether you're dealing with a mythological creature or a common raven, a Corvus corax, you're facing one of the most intelligent, highly evolved birds."

  "Which are you more connected to? The myth or the real bird?"

  "I don't know." He gazed at her through his glasses, through eyes that were an opaque shade of brown. "I was taught to believe in legends. But I work at a zoo. Sometimes those worlds collide."

  "Either way, I appreciate you taking the time to talk to me. I didn't know much about ravens before today."

  "The Haida are either from the Raven Clan or the Eagle Clan. My mother was a member of the Raven Clan. Hoya," he added, using the Native word. "That has always mattered to me. In a scientific and a spiritual sense."

  "That's understandable." And admirable, she thought.

  "Have you read Poe's poem?" he asked.

  She nodded. "'The Raven' was required in school." But now she wondered if she should search for it online. She barely remembered it.

  "Have you read the Teen Titans comics? Or seen the animated show?" Daniel asked.

  They'd gone from Edgar Allen Poe to comic books and cartoons? Trust Daniel. He probably had friends who dressed up at Star Trek conventions. "Is there a reason I should?"

  "Raven is a superhero from Teen Titans."

  "Really?" She stopped to ponder that scenario. "What are his powers?"

  "Her powers. She's female. Raven is the daughter of a woman who was impregnated by Satan."

  "So she's part human, part devil?" The way her raven was part human, part angel?

  "Yes, but she was taught to control her demon heritage. She learned to heal by absorbing other people's pain, and she learned to project her soul out of her body for short periods of time. But she has to fight to keep her darkness under control."

  Suddenly they both fell silent. Allie's ancestry had been steeped in evil. All of the women on her mother's side were black magic witches, everyone except her and Olivia. Controlling the darkness in their blood, the Apache ènti, was something they understood all too well.

  She looked at Daniel and her heart sank. "You know, don't you?"

  He shifted his feet, and his spotless tennis shoes picked up a smidgen of dirt. "Know what?"

  "About my mother."

  She didn't break eye contact, but he did, squinting into the waning sun. Dusk was only minutes away.

  "I've been trying to act normal around you," he said.

  Normal? She had no idea what that meant anymore. She longed for the days when s
he was young and naive, when she'd assumed that her family was like everyone else's. But at twenty-nine, with her childhood behind her, she knew better. "People always treat me differently when they discover I'm related to Yvonne Whirlwind."

  "I didn't."

  Didn't he? She wasn't so sure. She'd just met him. She couldn't gauge how he would have behaved otherwise. "Do you know about my dad, too?"

  Daniel nodded. "He was a Lakota actor who committed suicide." He stalled for a second. "My father is Lakota, too. But he's not an actor and he's still alive."

  "That's not much of a parallel, is it?"

  "No, it isn't. I'm sorry about your father."

  "He put a .44 Magnum in his mouth and pulled the trigger." A gun she'd reluctantly learned to shoot. "I was fresh out of high school when he did it."

  "I've seen some of his movies."

  "Really? He only got bit parts. He wasn't famous."

  "He is now."

  A lump formed in her throat. Even though her father had died over a decade ago, long before her mother had gone on a murderous rampage, her notoriety had triggered his. During Yvonne's trial, the media had drudged up Joseph Whirlwind's name, along with every old photo and film clip they could find. She suspected that was how Daniel had heard about him. "Dad is a wanagi now."

  He didn't say anything. He just looked at her.

  "It means ghost in Lakota," she told him.

  "I know what it means. But you're speaking metaphorically, right?"

  "No. I'm talking about an earth-bound spirit. He was there when my sister needed him. And someday he'll be there for me, too."

  "Your life is confusing." He shook his head. "A wanagi, a raven and a mother on a death row."

  Allie wasn't about to argue. She glanced up at the sky, where daylight had disappeared, where clouds had begun to gather.

  As though something dangerous was on its way.

  * * *

  Danger came in the form of a violent rain. To the Chiricahua Apache, sudden storms were regarded with fear.

  When Allie got home, she entered the loft with water dampening her clothes and matting her hair. She looked around for Samantha and saw that her pet was crouched in a corner. The cat didn't trust the weather, either.