by Celia Roman
“Mama,” Charlie said, his tiny voice gleeful, like this was a game we was all playing.
Maybe it was a game she played with him. What did I know? Only, that was a painter curling up on my living room floor, staring at me with them strange, knowing eyes, and Charlie weren’t much more’n a babe. Weren’t no way in aitch ee double hockey sticks was I gonna set him down.
“All right, now,” I said, and my voice was shaky and reed thin, about like my heart pattering away in my chest. “Libby Squirrel, if you can hear me in there, you change right back, you hear?”
The painter yawned again, and her expression was a near laugh, I sworn. She got up on all fours real graceful and leisure like, and padded around the table toward me.
I stepped back a mite too quick and bumped into the stove, and the painter leapt into me and buried her face against my thigh.
My heart shot up into my throat, but Charlie just laughed and leaned down and patted the painter’s head like she was a pet kitty cat.
Biggest dadgum kitty I ever seen.
“Libby?” I said, and was relieved my voice come out near normal. “You in there?”
The painter rubbed her face against my thigh again, and I took that as a yes.
“How long you gonna be like that? Not that I mind or nothing.”
A flat out whopper. ‘Course, I minded. There was a big, wild critter in my trailer. It might poop on the carpet or eat me and Charlie or something.
After another five minutes of that kinda play on the painter’s part, I managed to ease my way around to my desk and pull my .380 outta its holster. The painter just looked at me, like I lost my mind or something. Maybe I had. After all, I was standing in the same room as the critter what’d stalked me in the deep wood, then scared the life outta me and BobbiJean on her wedding day.
Which, come to think on it, was kindly rude.
Another five minutes and I set the .380 on the top of my desk and Charlie down on the floor. I shook out my arms, easing the sting of muscles not used to carrying a solid weight, and kept myself close to him and my gun both.
Bless him, Charlie toddled right over and collapsed on top of the painter, and danged if she didn’t roll over onto her back like a pup and let him waller all over her.
The worry tying my innards into knots melted away and I relaxed against the side of my desk. “Ok, Libby. You can change back now.”
The painter’s head swung to me. Bit by bit, black fur disappeared and limbs twisted, and a few minutes later, Libby lay on her back on the floor, a content Charlie sprawled across her.
I snagged a blanket off the back of the couch and covered ‘em both with it. “You had your fun.”
“The first time somebody sees it,” she said, her voice still cat growl deep. She cleared her throat as her arms came around her son and held him close to her sun darkened belly. “The first time is always the most fun.”
“Maybe for you,” I grumped. “So when you said two-natured, you really meant you was of two natures.”
“Yeah, I really meant that.” She sighed and closed her eyes, brown, human eyes slanted at the corners. “I couldn’t have changed back right after even if I’d wanted to. Too much energy.”
“You need some cake?”
“Cake.” Her mouth twitched into a smile, then a deep belly laugh took ahold of her, shaking her from head to toe, and young Charlie, too. “I thought you were gonna shoot me.”
“Naw,” I said, then amended that for the sake of pure honesty. “Only if you pounced on us or something.”
“I couldn’t hurt you, wouldn’t. We need you.”
Her voice was soft and a mite strained, and there I was gawking at her. I stepped around her and Charlie and stuck my head in the fridge. “Think you need more’n cake to get your strength back.”
“Strong, stalwart Sunny,” she murmured. “No wonder your father loved you so much.”
Tears sprung into my eyes quicker’n spit. I pulled out the mayo and deli ham I kept for Riley, and clutched them to my bitty breasts. My daddy loved me. Sure, the knowledge rested bone deep in me, so deep I hardly recognized it as separate from my heart, but hearing it from a stranger was…
No, not a stranger. Family. And family stuck together, no matter what curves life throwed.
I set sandwich fixings on the counter and wiped my eyes discreet as I could, then slapped together a Riley sized sandwich. “You need help getting dressed or you want me to turn up the heat some?”
“I got it.”
I half glanced over my shoulder. “Charlie, hon. You wanna sandwich?”
He scrambled off his mama, tottered toward me, and hooked his arms around my leg whilst he babbled away. I took that as a yes and, keeping my back turned to give Libby the appearance of privacy, I fixed another sandwich and cut it in half, one part for him, t’other for me.
Libby grunted softly. Fabric rustled and a sigh wheezed outta her.
“You ok?” I asked.
“Will be.” Another sigh. “Whew. Changing back and forth so quick really takes it out of you. Good practice, though.”
That got my attention. “For what?”
“When it has to be done.” Her feet swished through the carpet, then she leaned against the counter beside me and rolled her shoulders. “Always feels odd being human again.”
“Seems like it’d feel more odd to be a cat.”
“No, that’s natural. It’s part of the process.” She shrugged, rolled her shoulders, grimaced. “The human side is rational, giving. The animal side always wants more.”
“Part of its nature.”
“Part of being a predator.” Her gaze settled on me and her expression turned shrewd. “You don’t have enough of the panther nature in you to turn, but you know what it feels like to be a predator.”
No use denying it. Was the only thing keeping me alive when I was on the hunt, like the day I went after the pooka what killed my boy. Say what you want to, but them particular beasts can be nasty when they’s of a mind.
I scooted the plate holding Libby’s sandwich to her across the countertop, then picked Charlie up and plopped him down at the kitchen table with his half of the one we was splitting.
“Betty never liked that.”
I glanced over my shoulder at her. “Liked what?”
“That your blood wasn’t pure enough to turn.”
“I always figured it was ‘cause I weren’t pure enough Cherokee.”
“Same thing in your case.” She picked up the sandwich and took a huge bite, and chewed on it for a minute. “Good stuff. We tried to warn you.”
My noggin took a minute to pick up on the subject change. “A lotta folks been warning me about stuff here of late.”
“There’s a reason for that. Betty killed the first of the two-natured to try to reach you.”
“The first?”
“She died not far from here.”
Human eyes in a painter’s face. Could that be what Libby was talking on? “That first warning. Weren’t by any chance carried by a painter, was it?”
Libby shrugged, swallowed the bite she was eating. “Probably. Faster to travel on four feet, especially when you’re being chased.”
“You ain’t never heard of no car, then,” I said, and her lips twitched into a smile. I picked up my untouched sandwich and tore off a bite, and chewed on it a minute whilst my mind chewed over the painters. “She never come home, did she? The one what tried to warn me.”
“No.” Libby set her sandwich down and her gaze drifted to Charlie, who was poking a chubby finger into his sandwich instead of eating eat. “When she didn’t, I came instead.”
That painter what’d stalked me. “To the deep wood?”
Her gaze swung around, bright in a blank expression. “To a party. There was a big fire next to a waterfall and a man with rainbow colored hair.”
“A wedding,” I corrected. “So was that a two-natured what popped out on me in the deep wood?”
“When?”
“Between the first one and you.” I set my own sandwich down and crossed my arms over my chest. “She died, by the way. That first painter? Me and a friend found her lying across the road not far from here.”
Libby’s mouth pinched into a frown. “I’ll let her family know.”
“Kinfolk?” I ventured tentative like, and she nodded once, abrupt and hard.
Charlie swiped his sandwich off the plate onto the floor. Libby muttered, “Tsali!” I shushed her and grabbed a napkin. The trailer was kid proof, had been since before Henry was birthed, God rest him.
I knelt beside Charlie and wiped his hands clean, then picked up the sandwich and set it on the kitchen counter to throw out later. “So let me get this straight. My daddy was a two-natured, part of the Panther clan, but also a painter when he wanted to be. His mama started a war, killed your grandma, and is now after me.”
“Sounds about right.”
“Why now? I mean, why not before? She had plenty of chances to get rid of me after I was born.”
“No, Sunny. She never would’ve hurt you while your daddy was living. She loved him too much.”
“But after—”
“After, you were too well protected.” She sniffed delicately and her nostrils flared. “There’s magic around you, strange, foreign magic.”
I nodded toward the door as I plopped back down in my chair. “Old Mother’s hexes, but she just put ‘em there.”
“New magic,” Libby agreed. “What I sense is…ancient. Powerful. It surrounds you.”
I shook my head, baffled. Weren’t no other magic ‘round me, none I knowed of nohow. “I don’t wanna be dragged into the middle of all this.”
“None of us wanted war, cousin.” She leaned forward and wrapped a strong hand around my forearm. Her palm was unnaturally warm, almost too hot to bear. “Stand with us, Sunny. With your support, we can defeat your grandmother and bring an end to the killing.”
“I can’t do nothing.” I twisted my arm, trying to break her hold, and got a whole lotta hurt skin to show for it. “Can’t even shift into a painter.”
“You don’t need to. It’s your heritage that counts.” She dropped her hand and strode away from me toward her shoes, still laying in the middle of the living room carpet. “She’ll come after you again, Sunny.”
“I’ll be ready for her.”
Libby shook her head. “Nobody is ever ready for Betty Walkingstick when she decides you need to die.”
A chill shivered down my spine, tightening the muscles. I rubbed my arms against it even as dread wrapped itself around me and held on for dear life.
I helped Libby pack up her stuff and clean cake and sandwich off Charlie, and was relieved when the conversation drifted into lighter fare. She was comfortable to have here, was Libby Squirrel, and Charlie was a pure joy to be around, once he got to know a body.
Riley called not five minutes after they left while I was getting ready for our weekly dinner and a movie date at his place.
“Hey, there,” I said, and sounded a whole heckuva a lot cheerier than I felt. Don’t matter who you are. It’s always a mite unsettling knowing there’s a death sentence hanging over your head.
“Hey, baby,” Riley said. “I have to cancel tonight.”
The breath seized up in my lungs. This was it. This was the moment he was gonna tell me it was all a mistake and he couldn’t see me no more. I steeled for it best I could, but even that weren’t preparation enough for what come next.
“There’s a wildfire up in the Nantahala National Forest near Robbinsville. Dean called me looking for volunteers.” In the background, a zipper pulled, swooshing itself together with a metallic zing. “I’ve got the training.”
“What, you mean…?” I fumbled for the right words. “You’re gonna go fight a wildfire? Tonight?”
“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. God, Sunny.” A heavy breath whooshed out of him into the line. “I wish I had time to say goodbye in person, but the fire’s pretty close to private property and it’s too big for local firefighters to contain. They need every hand they can get.”
My throat closed around the words tumbling through my mind. I wanted to tell him no, he couldn’t go. No way, no how did I want him to risk his life fighting a fire, not after he barely escaped Afghanistan alive. Look what it’d done to him. The scars, the memories. He could act like it didn’t affect him all he wanted, but I knowed how bad he hurt.
“Say something, baby,” he whispered, and I shook my head, forgetting for a minute that he couldn’t see me. “Just one word to let me know you’re ok.”
I was too stunned, like a bird what’d flown into a glass window. Shocked that he was leaving, worried what’d happen to him. I cleared my throat and croaked out a wavering, “Be careful.”
He breathed out a laugh. “Yeah. I will. And I swear I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”
“You better,” I said, and the tart orneriness finally come through. He laughed and smacked a kiss into his phone, and told me to call his mama if I needed anything. We said goodbye, sounding for all the world like lovesick teenagers more’n grown adults.
Weren’t ‘til after I hung up that I remembered Robbinsville was the seat of Graham County, the same place the Snowbird Cherokee lived. Riley was headed right toward my grandma, and weren’t a blessed thing I could do to stop him.
Chapter Nineteen
I yanked on a light jacket, strapped my 1911 around my waist, and snagged the critter, cage and all. My noggin was empty as a moonless sky, and my thoughts scattered along the four winds. Fame’d know what to do, and if not him, then maybe Missy.
God, please, let one of ‘em have some ideas.
I hoofed it up the trail at a half run with one hand holding my cellphone to my ear waiting for Riley to pick up, scarce paying attention to the deep wood and the silence settling over it in the dusky twilight. The autumn air hung heavy here, a reflection of the sick worry ratcheted around my heart.
My grandma didn’t know about Riley, couldn’t know about him, could she? He was safe long as he stayed with t’others. He’d be safe.
Riley’s phone finally dumped into voicemail. I left a terse message telling him to call me back soon as he got it, please, God, call me back, it’s urgent, then hung up, shaking like a leaf in a hurricane.
I burst into the trailer without knocking, interrupting a card game. Fame half rose from the table. Trey, his card partner, twisted around and said, “What the hell, Sunny?”
I bent over double, one hand on a knee, the other holding the cage. Air whooshed in and out of my lungs, and finally, I caught enough to blurt out, “Riley’s on his way to fight a fire near Snowbird territory.”
Gentry set his cards face down on the table and stood. “You take my hand, cuz. Me and the critter’s gonna play.”
I shook my head, what good it’d do. He trotted over and pried the cage outta my stiff fingers, and carried it into the living room, grinning like a loon.
“Gentry,” I said, and Fame shushed me.
“Him and the critter’ll be fine. You come sit down.”
“Yessir.” I pushed myself upright and staggered to the table, ignoring the muscles screaming in my legs, then sank down in the chair Gentry’d vacated. “I don’t know what to do.”
Missy folded her cards and hid them under her palms. “Why is Riley going to fight a fire?”
“Volunteered. They need all the help they can get.” Which was all I knowed. I propped my elbows on the tabletop and dropped my forehead onto my fists. “I just learnt about the two-natured and Betty and the reason they’re a-feuding. Ain’t had no time to warn him yet.”
Fame sat back in his seat, his wild blue eyes keen and sharp. “You know what she is.”
“What she is, what daddy’s kin is.” I shrugged. “What I coulda been.”
Missy glanced at Fame and shared a long look with him. “Betty doesn’t know about Riley, does she?”
I shrugged again, but
it was Fame what answered. “She might.”
“She’ll come after him.” I knuckled the sting of tears outta my eyes. Couldn’t let my family see what Riley done to me, could I? Then they’d know me for the fool I was. “She been coming after me. Was probably her in the deep wood that day. The painter what stalked me twixt here and home?”
Fame cursed low under his breath. “I warned you.”
My head shot up and I aimed a glare at him. “You didn’t tell me she was a goddamn painter, Fame.”
“You didn’t need to know,” he said, and his voice was glacial cold. “You only needed to listen and stay away from her.”
“I ain’t been nowhere near her,” I retorted, hot as he was cold.
Trey cupped a calming hand over my shoulder. “Easy now, Sunny.”
“Riley’s in danger.” The words was a near shout, so loud Gentry squeaked, him or the critter one. “Don’t you get it? He’s in danger ‘cause of me, and I been trying to keep him outta that part of my life. I been trying to keep him safe.”
“You always have,” Fame murmured, and Missy stretched her hand out and clutched his tight. He smoothed a palm over my stick straight hair, then tugged gentle like on the ends. “We protect our own, Sunny girl.”
Riley, too. The words went unspoken, but they was there, filling up the space between us. Tears spilled over, clouding my vision, and a half sob snuck out. “What’re we gonna do, Fame?”
“I’ll think of something. Don’t you worry none.” One corner of his mouth curved up and he tugged the ends of my hair again. “We got a little time to worry it out. Meanwhile, you best pick up them cards. Me and Trey was whooping Missy and Gentry before you come storming in.”
Missy clucked her tongue and released his hand. “Lies!”
Trey winked at me. “No such thing as a lie at the card table, is there Sunny?”
I forced out a laugh, picked up Gentry’s cards, and played along, but deep in my gut, worry burrowed its way through me like a malignant worm feeding on my fear.