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Lost Vegas Series

Page 52

by Lizzy Ford


  “If I hit you, you will let me. If I hit him,” he pointed into the trees, “you will crush me.”

  Her quizzical gaze went to the area where the assassin had been hiding for hours. Rocky emerged from the brush when Black Wolf pointed.

  “If the man you fear threatens those you care about, you will take the war to him. It is only a matter of time before he hurts the person who will compel you into war.” Black Wolf said. He saw the truth in her eyes before she ducked her head once more and mumbled her disagreement. “Gather your things. We are leaving now.” He packed up his shelter swiftly before striding towards the two Natives brooding after their latest disagreement. “We must go,” he told them.

  They both looked at him. The resentment in Diving Eagle’s eyes had been present since the Hanover girl prevented Black Wolf from murdering everyone in the village. The female warrior, however, was unconvinced of the danger, or she would not be arguing with her new ally about the threat both skinwalker and Hanover posed.

  “Now,” Black Wolf added.

  “Prisoners do not give orders,” Chases Deer snapped.

  Diving Eagle, however, nodded. “We’re leaving now.” Rather than remain and argue, he snatched his possessions and left the area.

  Chases Deer remained defiant.

  Black Wolf lingered, unaccustomed to backing down when challenged. As if sensing his magic shift, the Hanover girl’s shield tightened its grip around him.

  “There may come a day when you are not so fortunate,” he growled to Chases Deer before turning away.

  The waif, flanked by the assassin, was watching him closely from a distance. The assassin’s casual stance and smile were more deceptive than Black Wolf had ever been about anything in his life. The Hanover understood Black Wolf’s threat and was willing to oppose him – but she had no comprehension of how dangerous her other companions were. Black Wolf posed no danger to her.

  The assassin did.

  Diving Eagle did.

  Chases Deer did.

  And yet the Hanover only had eyes for Black Wolf.

  This, too, made him smile and would have amused his deceased spirit guide, whose otherworldly magic had given her unparalleled insight into people and their motivations.

  The Hanover girl frowned. She did not relax again until Black Wolf had put some distance between Chases Deer and himself. Diving Eagle motioned to the Hanover girl without speaking. She lowered her eyes to the ground and approached him, without the assassin.

  Black Wolf watched. Diving Eagle spoke roughly no matter whom he addressed, but his tone took on a softer note with the Hanover. Their exchange was short, and she responded with two nods, before the Native moved away.

  Black Wolf did not know what had passed between them, but the Hanover girl flung her head back to stare at the sky when Diving Eagle was gone and did not move, as if deep in thought. The assassin approached and nudged her after a moment, and she went, following Diving Eagle, who had stalked into the forest.

  The skinwalker followed them both. The dynamics around him had shifted subtly but noticeably in the short time he had spent with the four. By the time they reached their destination, he hoped to understand the motivations of those around him better, without the aid of his guide, who had always acted to protect him.

  When it became clear Diving Eagle meant to leave her if she did not comply, Chases Deer trotted after them to make up the last member of the procession.

  The two snapped at one another often as they walked, he in his language, she in hers, and both ignoring the three people separating them. Black Wolf listened for details he could use later or information that would flesh out the motivations of the two. He had thought their dislike of one another superficial at first, two people with competitive natures who would gradually learn to work together. But after spending time with them, Black Wolf suspected they just could not stand one another. Whether it was a shared history, clashing personalities, the tension created by the shifting alliances, or a combination, they genuinely despised one another.

  After three hours of trekking through the forest, the silence between the two seemed ready to last.

  “I never hear our names mentioned among the many discussions between Diving Eagle and Chases Deer,” Rocky observed. “What do you all call us, if not by name?”

  Neither of the Natives spoke, and Black Wolf knew why. “The Diné refer to the Hanover girl as daughter of my enemy or enemy blood or the not yet dead. When one of them is particularly upset, it is much more interesting. They have created an entire language around cursing the Hanover’s,” he replied. “Chases Deer refers to her as the girl with no muscles. Both of them call you the smiling assassin.”

  “Sounds like I got the better end of that deal,” the assassin replied.

  “They have had hundreds of years to invent names for my family,” the Hanover girl said. “I imagine there are many, none of them pleasant.”

  “One is,” Black Wolf replied.

  Diving Eagle gave him a sharp look over his shoulder.

  The Hanover did not ask, as if suspecting the sliding scale of insulting names could never be pleasant. Black Wolf kept this tiny secret, and Diving Eagle’s warning look, for use later. When trading or dealing with someone new, he always waited to name his price until he had time to study the person more. Diving Eagle had two weaknesses – his people and position as the next chief. Was it possible there could be a third weakness?

  Black Wolf was not yet certain.

  With time, he always uncovered the greatest weakness.

  The group was quiet. Since he was leading them through the forest, Diving Eagle chose the path. After the last argument between the two western Natives, Black Wolf understood their destination to be Chases Deer’s village.

  Black Wolf had planned to return for his wolf’s body and her pups anyway, before deciding his next move. He would make no more agreements now that his wolf was gone, and he had already decided to dismiss those he was not likely to fulfill. His time was short; he felt the truth of this to his soul. The only agreement that mattered: the one he made with Diving Eagle, a deal he suspected would put him on track to meet his death.

  “The half-breed is in the city?” he asked, focusing on the back of the Hanover’s head.

  “Her name is Aveline, and yes,” was the quiet response.

  “Your brother as well?”

  “Yes.”

  The man who hired Black Wolf to find the Hanover heir was located near Lost Vegas. And Diving Eagle indicated the target Black Wolf was supposed to kill was inside the city.

  All roads led to the city Black Wolf had thus far avoided. If his spirit wolf was watching, was she amused or concerned? For in very few instances in life was it possible for all roads to cross at one place or moment in the future. In fact, he could not recall the last time this was true, other than the circumstances surrounding how his spirit guide had originally found him.

  Once, when his life was just beginning.

  A second time, when his life was about to end.

  He could appreciate the symmetry of these two periods of his life and knew his spirit wolf would, too.

  *

  They took a break at midmorning, another at noon where Chases Deer shared more meat from her kill the previous night, a third mid-afternoon, and a fourth at dusk. The two Natives spoke twice to discuss the distance remaining, but Black Wolf did not need to be familiar with the forest to know how far he was from the wolf’s pups. Their energies were tiny whispers in his mind, and he gauged less than two hours of walking remained.

  The two western Natives were arguing quietly again, this time about the Hanover girl, who looked ready to collapse after the long day on her feet. Diving Eagle wanted to rest longer then finish the journey. Chases Deer believed the girl could rest when they arrived. With Rocky casually standing guard, the Hanover girl sat on a log, hunched over and gripping her head.

  “Are they arguing about us?” Rocky asked Black Wolf, eyes on the two Nativ
es.

  “Always,” Black Wolf replied.

  “She’s dehydrated. Tell them she needs a little recovery time.” His eyes were on Chases Deer. In fact, they rarely left the warrior woman, and Black Wolf assessed the smiling assassin was attracted, or fascinated, by her.

  Black Wolf walked away and relayed the message to the two Natives who glared at him when he approached. Diving Eagle handed over a canteen while Chases Deer rolled her eyes and moved away.

  Returning to the assassin, Black Wolf started to toss the canteen and then paused. He tilted his head, assessing the Hanover girl’s still body. He had not ventured this close a moment ago, but this time, he felt it, the charging of her magic, the build up in the air around her. She had not moved from her position since they stopped, five minutes before.

  “Step away,” he told Rocky.

  “No,” the assassin said with a quick smile.

  “Your choice. But if you want her not to burn you where you stand, you will move away,” he said. “She’s not conscious. She can’t control what’s happening.”

  Rocky glanced towards the Hanover girl and then back. Frowning, he shifted closer, only to stop a foot from her. His hair stood on end, and his clothing inflated and ballooned around his form, as if filled with her loose energy.

  He stepped back.

  “What is wrong?” Diving Eagle asked, approaching.

  Black Wolf did not bother to respond. None of them really understood what magic was, or the Hanover’s inconsistent control of it, and never could. He stripped his weapons off his body instead and set them on the ground then lifted his hands to show he meant no harm.

  As if they could stop me if I wanted them dead. At the moment, the Hanover girl was disabled, and they were at his mercy.

  None of them knew that, either, or that, for the time being, his purpose and theirs were in alignment.

  “You may want to find cover,” he said.

  Rocky had taken another few steps away, until his clothing deflated. His hair remained standing on end. When Black Wolf drew abreast of him, he began to absorb her energy, the single most effective defense against the girl that he had discovered by accident when she attacked him the first time. With little to no conscious control over her abilities, the Hanover girl did not know how to defend against the depletion of her power.

  The assassin started to follow him. Black Wolf did not have to stop him; Tiana’s magic rolled off her in waves and stopped her guardian in his tracks.

  “Rocky,” Diving Eagle called. “Do as he says.”

  With reluctance, the assassin retreated towards the other two, who were kneeling behind a large rock.

  Black Wolf let Tiana’s power fill the void within him. It energized him and sent his limbs changing forms. He made no move to control his body’s transformations and focused on the girl who had fallen unconscious. Unwilling to touch her until he knew with certainty what her condition was, Black Wolf crouched in front of her.

  Her eyes were open, unseeing, and white instead of black. Her magic swirled around her before it was vacuumed into him. He could not recall ever feeling this level of magic before. It prickled his skin and swam inside him, safe within the confines of the body he had spent a century training to contain magic. It took practice and patience not to push back at the power pushing at him. If he tensed, the power erupted. If he remained flexible, the magic likewise responded to his signal and remained fluid.

  Not sure what kind of trance the girl was in, Black Wolf stretched out a hand and rested it on her forearm. No sooner did he feel the warmth of her skin through her clothing than power smashed through him and threw him back ten feet. He landed hard on his back. Before he could rise, a vision erupted into his mind.

  *

  The abyss. Smoke. Thousands of spirits screaming and fleeing the two figures in the center. The scene was too chaotic for him to understand where it was or even if it was on this earth. The spirits had no faces, the world little recognizable form.

  Tiana and a man he did not recognize were trapped in a silent, motionless confrontation, Tiana on land, the man hovering over the abyss, while magic tore the world around them apart. Black Wolf felt every sensation of being present with intensity he rarely experienced for anything. The world disintegrated beneath his feet, while smoke clogged his lungs and his spirit felt as if it were being ripped from his body. He was falling and soaring, panting and breathless, stuck and being torn apart.

  The vision flickered and changed and this time, the world and the people in it remained in solid form, appearing the way they were supposed to. The abyss formed and closed then vanished completely. Spirits emerged from the black hole in that short moment and raced around without hurting him this time.

  The Hanover girl and the stranger were visible – then gone as abruptly as the abyss. But someone else remained. A hunched, shadowy figure swallowed too quickly by the vision for him to make out any identifiable features.

  But the magic possessed by the form … he knew this magic as well as he knew his own.

  *

  When his eyes snapped open, it was not only the vision that lingered but also the faint pulse of power, this creature’s presence in his mind, coming from the south.

  Black Wolf sat up and stared around him, orienting himself. He lay beside a fire. It was past dark, and his sense told him four people were nearby.

  “He’s awake!” the assassin called to the others.

  Ignoring everyone, Black Wolf climbed to his feet and looked up and around until he identified the highest tree nearby. He crossed to it, stripped out of his clothing, drew a deep breath, and transformed instantly into the form of an animal with the claws he needed to climb.

  The onslaught of night on his senses could not override the pulse or images in his mind. His guide had experienced visions at intervals, to include the one that eventually brought them west. Despite his list of abilities, Black Wolf had never had his own vision. He had never considered himself fortunate for this before now. How had his guide born such horrific experiences with grace? He felt as if his spirit had been ripped from his body for those short moments, wrung out, and replaced with half its energy drained.

  He scaled the tree and reached the top. Peering out over the forest’s canopy, his eyes went first in the direction of the pups awaiting him, then towards the newfound energy in his mind beckoned him to go.

  The smoke above the city was visible. Light reflected off it, giving it an unnatural glow. Unable to identify exactly which side of Lost Vegas compelled him, he at least confirmed what he had suspected earlier this day.

  All roads led to Lost Vegas.

  Brooding, feeling as if his life was out of his control, he remained in the tree, unable to escape the visions or the crumpled form that had somehow implanted its energy, and location, in his mind through the vision. Too many questions pummeled his brain for him to know where to begin.

  How was this person certain to reach him? Why beckon him to the city at all? Most importantly, he recognized kind of the energy, but whom did it belong to? He had believed himself to be the last of his kind before traveling toward the city of Lost Vegas. Would he not know if there was another?

  Black Wolf remained on his perch, thoughts flickering between the visions and his spirit wolf, whose departure could not have come at a worse time.

  When he felt calm enough to handle the annoying humans awaiting him, he clawed his way down the tree and transformed.

  The three waiting for him backed away. One of them had drawn her weapons and was poised to attack. None of them stood a chance, but only two of them understand that. Chases Deer’s shock turned her paler than the Hanover, whose protective field was back in place around the others even though she was nowhere in sight.

  Rocky tossed Black Wolf his clothing. Diving Eagle crouched nearby, displaying no fear but nowhere near relaxed either. Anger burned in his eyes.

  Chases Deer was babbling in her tongue, her arm shaking and eyes wild after witnessing w
hat Diving Eagle had been trying to warn her about.

  Black Wolf winked at her and pulled on his clothing as he sought out the one person who had not bothered to greet him when he left the tree.

  “Hanover!” he shouted.

  “Easy,” Rocky warned in a tight voice. “No one gets hurt.”

  “He knows that,” said the Hanover from behind them.

  Black Wolf whirled, bristling with the remnants of her power as well as his. Her eyes were rimmed with red.

  “Who was that?” the skinwalker demanded, ignoring the two Natives moving closer.

  The Hanover glanced away then back. “My father.”

  “What’re you talking about?” Rocky asked. “Your father isn’t here, is he?” He looked at the Hanover girl with a frown.

  Wired, Black Wolf reached up to his head – and grimaced when he felt the baldness where his hair had always been. He did not need the reminder that his only friend was gone, and he would soon follow.

  “He is not here,” the Hanover said.

  She said nothing else.

  “What has you both upset?” Rocky prodded.

  Black Wolf growled, and the Hanover sighed deeply but remained silent. No part of him wanted to involve the lesser beings around him in the discussion he needed to have with the Hanover, but he had an audience now.

  “Why don’t we return to the fire and rest?” Diving Eagle said.

  Black Wolf nodded and stalked towards the glowing bonfire before anyone else had moved. He sensed the Hanover trail him and her guardian follow her. When he reached the blaze, he heard the two Natives break out into another of their quiet arguments.

  Chases Deer was refusing to remain, and Diving Eagle refusing to leave.

  Black Wolf sat heavily beside the fire and rubbed his baldhead, irritated by it and suspecting his true emotion stemmed from the vision, the figure he saw last, and not knowing what he was involved in.

  The Hanover sat closer to him than she had ventured before, and his glance lingered on her. She had admitted her ability to read minds was sporadic. His was stronger. He had learned young that his telepathic abilities became enhanced with extreme emotion or pain.

 

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