Women of the Dark Streets

by Radclyffe

  She scrambled out of her bedroll, already dressed, as the ground began to vibrate and grabbed her binoculars to focus on the approaching thunderhead of dust.

  Eyes feral with fear, the wild horses fled from the sky predator that hovered low over their backs, pushing them relentlessly toward the government holding pens. She was glad now that she had wisely camped on a mountainside ledge, safely out of their path.

  She followed the herd’s flight until a foal, its young lungs and thin legs too weak to keep the pace, stumbled and fell out of the group while its panicked mother ran mindlessly on.

  She knew the baby couldn’t survive on its own and the wranglers wouldn’t ride out to get it, so she swung her saddle onto the rented gelding’s back and hurriedly cinched the girth. He snorted and shifted nervously at the scream of a natural sky predator, and Eden spun around to witness a surreal tableau unfold.

  A gigantic eagle, clutching a lifeless chicken in its talons, shadowed the helicopter that dared invade its territory, then dipped toward a new player galloping in from the west. Eden’s breath caught in her chest.

  “It’s her.”

  It was clear the black horse was on a trajectory to intercept, but the herd was nearly a hundred strong and Eden doubted it could turn them from their frantic flight. It would take something they feared more than the helicopter that dogged their heels…something big, like a… “Ho-o-ly shit!”

  A grizzly bear bound onto the plain some three hundred yards ahead of the herd and stopped. Just as the black mare joined the front-runners, the beast reared up to its full height, stretched its massive paws into the air, and roared.

  The herd leaders hesitated, then followed the Black in a wide arc away from the new threat. The helicopter swung around to turn them north again, but the eagle swooped down from overhead and dropped its prey onto the main rotor, spraying blood and guts across the copter’s bubbled windshield.

  The mechanical bird wobbled, then abruptly turned north toward the remote airport that was its nest. The horses were safe for now…Except one.

  Plaintive whinnies drew her back to the prairie. The Winchester strapped next to her leg wasn’t made for bear hunting, but she wasn’t about to leave the defenseless baby to be an easy meal if the wind shifted and the bruin headed that way.

  The little mustang stood trembling and uncertain as Eden approached slowly. Her gelding nickered to the foal and Eden gambled on the baby’s instinct to follow. Their progress would be slow with the exhausted filly trailing, so she resigned herself to another night of sleeping on the hard ground after they found the herd…if they found the herd.

  *

  The herds’ tracks led to a desert canyon, which led to another, then another until one appeared that was lush with grass and had a thin creek wandering through it.

  The water was still muddy at its widest where the herd had obviously paused to drink, so Eden moved upstream to fill her canteen. She soaked her bandanna to wash the dust from her face while the foal drank its fill. Finished, the little filly folded its long legs and collapsed to sleep on a bed of thick grass.

  “Guess this is where we’ll camp,” Eden said to nobody.

  Her voice sounded out of place among water tinkling over rocks and wind whispering through the grass, and she ached to be something other than human in this raw and natural world.

  She sighed. This was no time for dreams and fanciful thoughts.

  She hobbled the gelding and set him loose to graze, then collected an armful of deadwood from under the scrubby trees that lined the creek. The moon wouldn’t rise for another hour or two, so she built a small campfire, more for light than heat. Dinner was a couple of granola bars.

  The filly slept deeply and Eden fought the urge to rise and stand guard over her as a herd mate would. Instead, she pulled her bedroll around her shoulders and settled back against her saddle to sort through the swirling remnants of her day.

  A series of incredible coincidences? She didn’t think so.

  Professional animal trainers with the skill and resources to orchestrate what she had seen today were a small group, so it shouldn’t be hard to dig out the name of the rogue trainer doing this.

  Eden smiled. Book number two was practically on its way to the editor.

  The chapters were taking shape in her head when she was alerted by the gelding’s rumbled greeting. A hulking shadow approached in the twilight and an overwhelming urge to run made Eden’s skin itch. Instead, her hand found the cool barrel of her rifle and she slowly stood. A breeze feathered her hair back and she relaxed. Not the rank scent of grizzly.

  An impatient snort broke the stillness and the Black stepped into ring of firelight.

  Eden had seen plenty of horses with blue eyes, but they were always pintos, duns, or otherwise light-colored breeds. As far as she knew, it was genetically impossible or at least rare for a completely black horse. Still, this mare’s eyes were swatches torn from the summer sky.

  Eden looked down. Boots. She wasn’t dreaming again.

  They studied each other. Nostrils flared to suck in Eden’s scent and the Black jerked her head slightly, noisily blowing out a breath as if surprised.

  Eden held out her hand and the mare stepped forward to sniff it. Its eyes glowed like blue lasers and a warm tongue washed across her palm. This animal was not wild, confirming her theory that a human trainer was behind this “Jesus” horse.

  “Hey, beautiful. You must smell the oats from my granola bar.”

  The Black shook its head and stepped closer to stretch her neck in graceful arch. Stiff whiskers tickled Eden’s neck and a gentle mouth lipped at her skin. She shuddered as a flash of something familiar touched the edge of her consciousness. She cautiously brushed her fingers along satin-like hide and the mare affectionately rubbed her broad forehead against Eden’s shoulder.

  Then the Black withdrew and went to the sleeping foal to nudge it awake. The little filly rose and sidled close to the newcomer, opening and closing her mouth in a submissive gesture. The Black rumbled deep in her chest as she sniffed the foal thoroughly, then she gave Eden one last look and melted back into the darkness. A low, firm nicker summoned and the filly lifted her head in shrill answer before hurrying to follow.

  Eden listened to their fading hoof beats. She should be happy that she’d been relieved of the foal and was close to busting this myth. Instead, she felt lonelier than she’d ever been in her entire, solitary life.

  *

  The tavern that doubled as a bar and restaurant was crowded and the clatter of dishes, shouted orders and a hundred simultaneous conversations set Eden’s teeth on edge. The scent of hot sauce, greasy fries, and thick slabs of grilled meat filled the air around her, but she could still smell the stench of stale tobacco on the man who dropped into the chair across from her.

  “Like I said when I phoned you, Ms. Thayer, this ridiculous rumor has gotten out of hand. The Bureau had to bring wranglers in from out of state because the locals all quit. Unemployment is over fifteen percent around here, and the salary I’m paying for a few months’ work is more than most of these people make in a year when they are employed. I don’t understand it.”

  Agent Bill Sanders waved a frazzled waitress over.

  “Hey, Bill. What can I get you tonight?” the waitress asked, pulling a pencil from behind her ear and an order pad from the back pocket of her jeans.

  “Cheeseburger, fries, and a light draft.”

  “How ’bout you, hon?”

  “Just coffee,” Eden said.

  The waitress hurried away, and Bill returned his attention to Eden.

  “Bobby says he saw you out there yesterday when that damn Jesus horse showed up and turned another herd.”

  “Yes, I got lucky.”

  “So? What do you think?”

  “What I saw out there, Mr. Sanders, was a well-coordinated ambush.”

  “We thought it was a fluke the first time it happened, then we cursed it as bad luck the second time. The third
time, the local wranglers tucked their tails and headed back to town to get drunk and spread tales about a she-devil horse with blue eyes.” Sanders glanced across the room and grimaced. “Speaking of blue-eyed devils—”

  The woman striding toward them had eyes like jewels set in the sculpted angles of her long face, and her dark hair shone against her bronzed skin. A barrel-chested man with a hawkish nose and a shaggy mountain of a man trailed behind her, but a jerk of the woman’s chin sent them to the bar to wait.

  She stopped at their table and Eden could literally feel the soft brush of the woman’s curious gaze before it moved to Sanders and turned laser sharp.

  “Next time your helicopters buzz my land, Mr. Sanders, I’m going to shoot their rotors off.” Her voice was low and smooth, like honeyed wine, and matter-of-fact rather than angry.

  “Good evening, Ms. Walker. It’s good to see you, too. Allow me to introduce Eden Thayer. Eden, this is Danielle Walker. She owns fifteen hundred acres that border the federal lands.”

  “You should be careful of the company you keep around here, Ms. Thayer,” Danielle said, her eyes still on Sanders.

  He shifted nervously and scowled. “You know damn well those horses may be on your land today, but they’ll return to federal land tomorrow or the next day or next week. You don’t own them.”

  They both moved back when Danielle put her hands on the table and leaned toward him, her expression fierce.

  “The federal government doesn’t own them either, Mr. Sanders. They’re wild and I’ll do everything in my power to see that they stay that way. The prairies belong to the wolves, the buffalo, and the wild horses. Not to the ranchers’ cattle you let graze there instead. A day of judgment will come. And when nature rises up to reclaim what’s hers, guns will not be needed to stop weak, selfish humans.”

  She was halfway across the room when Sanders, red-faced, scrambled to his feet and shouted at her back.

  “You don’t own the airspace, Ms. Walker, and shooting at those helicopters will only land you in a federal prison.”

  Danielle didn’t acknowledge his threat. The hawk-nosed man scrambled after her, but the larger man cast a dark look at Sanders before he, too, followed.

  “She’s a nut case.” he grumbled.

  Eden let out the breath she was holding, and Sanders waved away the plate the waitress slid onto the table.

  “Just put it in a bag for me. I’ve lost my appetite for now.”

  “Sure, I can do that. But you’re gonna lose more than your appetite if you try to take on Dani Walker. She’s the next thing to God around here.”

  “She’s even crazier than I thought if she believes she can tell the federal government what to do. And who is that Neanderthal that acts like her bodyguard?”

  The waitress broke into a wide smile, her eyes dreamy. “Henry? He’s just a big ol’ teddy bear. Surely you aren’t scared of him.”

  “Just put my food in a bag, please?”

  The waitress shrugged and took the plate of food back to the kitchen.

  “You can see that we’ve got no support here among the locals,” Sanders said. “I need you to crack this fast so we can arrest the people behind it. After yesterday’s screw-up, I received authorization to also make a sizable donation in the form of a grant to your program at the university if you can help us.”

  Eden should be pleased at that news, but her mind was on the unexpected tingle that filled her when she looked into Danielle Walker’s eyes.

  *

  “The name suits you.”

  Eden stopped her slow stroll down the Main Street storefronts and Danielle Walker stepped out from a dark doorway, her eyes silver under the street lights.

  “My name?”

  “It means beautiful, doesn’t it?”

  All traces of the intimidating woman in the restaurant were gone. Her gaze locked with Eden’s, eyes begging for something Eden couldn’t quite grasp. Then the moment was gone and Danielle’s expression dissolved into a half smile.

  “You always did enjoy irony,” she said.

  “I beg your pardon?” Eden felt as though a conversation was going on, but she still hadn’t caught up with it.

  “Myth-buster. Isn’t that what you call yourself?”

  “You’ve read my book, Ms. Walker?”

  “It’s Dani. And no, I haven’t read your book. I looked you up on the Internet. Interesting work.”

  “It’s easier than you would think. Science or a good investigator can explain a lot that people can’t or don’t want to understand. In this case, I think the culprit is more likely an expert animal trainer than a shape-shifter. Surely you don’t believe there are people who can transform their bodies into animal forms. I’m pretty sure it would be scientifically impossible.”

  Dani’s eyes gleamed. “Skin walker. Not a shape-shifter. Come with me.”

  Eden wasn’t sure if it was a request or a command. “Why should I? I don’t know you, but apparently we’re not exactly working on the same team.”

  She was startled when Dani’s hands folded around hers and a warmth spread up her arms and into her chest.

  “Because you need to understand the ‘myth’ you’re trying to discredit. And because you know you can trust me.”

  They had just met, but Dani touched her with the casual ease of two people who were well acquainted. Even stranger, Eden felt as if she did know her, had known her.

  And she knew with absolute certainty that she could trust her.

  *

  Four Shoshone, dressed in ceremonial costume, sat in a semicircle around a blazing campfire. Their drumbeats, rattle shaking, and soft chanting were a muted backdrop for a fifth man, a shaman who stood and faced the crowd of thirty or forty tourists.

  He waved a bundle of sage and sweet grass over the fire, then dropped it in the flames. Even though they sat some distance away on the lowered tailgate of Dani’s truck, the fire’s thick smoke found them, its acrid taste bitter on the back of Eden’s tongue.

  The shaman’s musical baritone carried easily across the open field as he alternated between song and story, laying out for mesmerized listeners the legend of Shoshone skin walkers, warriors who were not shape-shifters, but could project their minds into animal familiars.

  Eden swallowed against the sharp tang of the smoke. She felt dizzy. The sound of the drums seemed to swell around her.

  Listen with your heart, Eden.

  It was a whisper in her ear. She glanced at Dani, but her attention appeared riveted on the storyteller. She must have imagined the words.

  A sixth Indian, draped in a bearskin complete with head and paws, began to prowl the outer edges of the firelight. Eden flashed back to the grizzly she had seen on the prairie. She thought of the shaggy-haired man she had seen at the restaurant.

  Listen and remember.

  The drums were now a thousand hoof beats thundering in her ears, and a wave of nausea washed over her. She gripped the metal tailgate under her hands to ground herself. Was there a branch of peyote hidden in the herbs the shaman burned?

  Remember and come back to me.

  She needed to get back to her hotel, away from the chanting and smoke, but she swayed when she tried to stand. “I don’t feel very well,” she mumbled as blackness closed in and her knees gave out.

  *

  Colors swirled around her. She was tumbling, floating through a series of scenes, glimpses she couldn’t hold on to long enough to make sense of them.

  Terrified horses stampeded on all sides of her. She was running, too, wild with fear until a dark figure, strong and calm, shouldered through the herd to gallop beside her.

  She groaned and tried to focus. Dani’s face, etched with concern, hovered.

  She closed her eyes and a serene plateau stretched before her. A female warrior, tall and lean in loincloth and little else, yanked an arrow from the chest of a fallen bison and turned to her. Dani’s blue eyes, full of triumph, glinted above violent slashes of war paint. Mukua de
hee’ya. Spirit horse.

  Then the prairie turned to pavement and she was riding in Dani’s truck. She drifted until strong arms lifted her.

  The satin sheets were cool under her fevered skin. She felt them gathering around. Murmured, worried voices. Dani’s friends.

  “She’s fighting it. I think you should get a shaman, Dani.”

  “You should have gone more slowly, my friend. I know you have longed for her, but she might not be ready.”

  “She is ready. She walks without understanding, but her heart seeks mine. I know it.”

  Eden opened her eyes. She saw them now. Humans, yes, but more. A grizzly, an eagle, a midnight black mare.

  No, no. Impossible. The smoke. It had to be filled with hallucinogens. She gasped and her body jerked with bone-rattling, teeth-chattering chills. Gentle fingers combed through her hair.

  “Dani—”

  “No. Leave us. It’ll be okay.”

  Cold, so cold. Quick hands pulled at her clothes. A down blanket covered her, then lifted and searing flesh pressed against her naked back. Hot, so hot.

  The glare of the sun against the desert sand was blinding, so she watched the yearlings play from the cool of the tent. Warm hands slid under the light gauze of her shift to caress her breasts and teasing lips feathered along her neck. Johara, my jewel.

  Sweet elation. Asima, my protector. I had hoped you would find me as soon as you returned.

  Always, my sweet. But it was I who was lost until you found me.

  The desert was gone and she was standing on a broad tree limb, watching a lone rider enter the forest. She grinned at the sight of the teen with startling blue eyes and ebony hair. She grabbed a vine and swung out. They tumbled together to the ground, rolling and wrestling to a stop.

  Found you! Some Amazon warrior. You never saw me coming.

  Ha. I let you capture me. I felt you, knew you were there. I will always know you.

  The flesh under her hands was real now and arousal coursed through her. She was hungry, starving for the body naked under hers.