Birds of Prey

by Dahlia Rose

  Below him a Jeep with the casino emblem on the hood kicked up dust, keeping pace with them. If it were possible for a bird to smile, he would have. He’d bet even money his sister and mother were in the vehicle. There was no doubt in his mind. They were about to wage war.

  * * * *

  The multiple layers of invisible tape curled at the edge around her wrist and her fingers were going numb. Leticia twisted her wrists and the sticky plastic cut into them. A haze of sand trailed behind the car as the tires spun in the silt. They were stuck. The vehicle they were in wasn’t meant for this type of terrain.

  Christophe swiveled in his seat, picked up the gun, and aimed it at her. “Get out.”

  She grabbed the lever and shouldered the door open. The slight clicks she heard told her Christophe was doing the same thing. The sun beamed down, heating her skin. She was in the middle of dressing when Christophe invaded her home. All she had on was a bra and panties covered by her velour robe with leather mules on her feet. She sent up a silent prayer again that her brother was at least alive. A tick made her eye jump and pain pounded in her temple. Leading him to Jace’s house might not be her best idea, but at the time it was the only safe place she could think of and they were still miles from it.

  “Where the hell are we, Lettie?” Christophe bellowed.

  She lifted her palms and covered her eyes, looking for respite from the ache in her head. Her hands were snatched away and she looked into the dark depths of Christophe’s eyes. What was that word Jace like to use? Cray? Yeah that was it, and it fit the asshole before her perfectly. “We are in a dry creek bed,” she answered wryly. Hopefully leading the bastard the long way bought her enough time for Jace to find her. From the pit of her soul she truly believed he was coming for her.

  He backhanded her. Her teeth cut into her cheek and she tasted the blood flowing over her tongue. Christophe got in her face. “Don’t play fucking games with me.” Spittle flew from his mouth and prayed her cheek.

  Lettie formed fists in front of her. “We’re about ten miles from the point in the canyon where you can cross the valley unseen because of the cliffs,” she muttered.

  “So the trail is actually in a canyon?” he uttered in disbelief.

  “Yes.”

  “Wonderful!” He picked up his phone. “As long as you keep helping me, I will keep my word and free you.” Christophe tapped his cell screen.

  “Phones don’t work out here. The only towers are around the populated areas.” She angled her head toward his hand.

  “No matter.” He shoved the device in his pants pocket. “Help me push the car so it will get traction.”

  “In sand?” She shook her head. “You need front-wheel drive. That sedan won’t budge, so you might as well get your things. We’re walking.”

  He stared at her and she lifted her brows in question. “Don’t believe me? You’ll waste more energy trying to free the stupid auto than you will walking. Bet you don’t have a bottle of water or anything else we can use.” She snorted. “Seems you need me now, city boy.”

  A long shadow fell over them. Fucking great, they were in a gully and a damn storm was probably on the horizon. She shaded her eyes with her hands and lifted her head. Large black birds circled far above them, high enough she couldn’t discern their size. A slow, devious smile curled the ends of her lips up.

  “What are you smiling about?” Christophe grabbed her by the tape and yanked her toward the car.

  Her toes caught in the sand and she lurched forward, falling to her knees. She struggled to get her footing while Christophe jerked at her restraints and her arms were wrenched as she fell forward. Dirt filled her mouth and she lifted her face, spitting it out.

  “Get the fuck up!” He glanced up as the shadows grew longer.

  Birds started flying down, dive-bombing Christophe. Large buzzards would attack, clawing at his face and arms before flying away, only to be replaced by another beast. He released her and ran for the car. The animals landed all around them, forcing him to change directions multiple times. She struggled to her knees and watched in fascination as Jace landed in mid shift, all man with massive wings protruding from his back.

  Jace’s feet sunk into the sand and he stalked her way. He took her by the elbows and helped her up. Slowly birds turned into men, surrounding Christophe. In one deft movement he cut the tape from her wrists with his claws and stroked his thumbs across the welts. He lifted her arms to his mouth ad brushed his lips along the cuts before lifting his head. Jace glanced at her and narrowed his eyes. He pushed her hair from her face and caressed her cheek. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

  Lettie raised her chin and blinked back the tears threatening to fall. “Leo?”

  “I don’t know, sugar. Myer found him alive.” Jace wrapped his arms around her and gently hugged her against him.

  She sobbed against his chest, his skin hot against her face.

  “The bitch is all right,” Christophe screamed. “I know your secrets. Free me, or I will expose you to the world.”

  Jace pressed a kiss to her temple and spun around. He kept an arm loosely locked around Lettie’s waist. “What is it you know?”

  “I saw you…I saw you fucking change. You’re an abomination, unclean and inhuman!” Christophe kicked at the sand.

  “One of you shut him the fuck up.” Jace twisted Lettie toward the car.

  Thuds and grunts along with few hisses filled the air as Jace tugged the door open. The drone of an engine overshadowed Christophe’s cries and she looked up to see a newer-model Jeep barreling their way. Coyotes trailed behind it, running at top speed, their tongues lolling from the side of their muzzles. A scarcity of condors kept pace above the vehicle. The auto screeched to a stop, driving a haze of dust in her direction. Lettie was sure her eyes were wide as the canines shifted midrun into more men. A nude white man jumped from the back and hauled another guy with him. Jace’s mother and another woman flanked the guy.

  “I found this asshole lost in the next canyon over. He had a trunk full of guns. I believe this is the bitch sniper you been searching for. Your sister was kind enough to give me a ride so we could get here quicker.” The naked guy shoved the fella toward Jace. He turned his head to look at Lettie and she gasped. Handsome was an understatement, his feature were almost perfectly aligned and marred by a three scars cutting across his face from his eyebrow to his jawline. Scar tissue healed over a socket missing the eye. He offered her a sheepish smirk. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Your mate accidentally took my eye when we were kids. I’m Johan Myer.

  “I’m sorry.” She offered her hand “Leticia Washington, but my friends call me Lettie.” Once again she was in a surreal situation. She glanced up and realized they were still surrounded by birds.

  “Pleasure.” Myer nodded.

  Jace released Lettie and stalked over to the gunmen. He walked around him and the man snarled at Jace. Her mate narrowed his eyes. He looked up at the ledge above them where a massive condor sat alone.

  “Jerimiah, I claim the right to judgment for the transgressions these men have committed against my mate and our people.” Jace returned his stared to the bald man.

  A hiss escaped the giant condor.

  “Death. Let the sniper die by the beaks of the birds he thought to kill.” Jace moved in close. He raised a clawed hand, and black talons erupted from his fingertips. He slashed the man’s throat and blood sprayed, raining down on the sand. The guy groaned and wrapped his palms around his neck. Jace spun on his heel and circled his hand in the air.

  Lettie watched as hundreds of birds took to the air, circling above the fella. Jace stalked away as the birds formed a funnel and dived at the man, swirling around him. Indians and white men both gave him a wide berth. A flurry of black feathers blocked her view, but anguished screams bounced off the sheer rock walls. Within minutes the beasts dispersed and a bloody frame devoid of most of its tissue dropped to the sand.

  “Tully, make sure no one finds that assho
le,” Jace absently spoke.

  A Native American stepped from around the Jeep with a tarp in his hands. “On it, Sheriff.”

  Jace spun and marched up to Christophe. “You won’t have it so easy. You dared to touch what’s mine. Your death will be slow.” He raised his head and glanced at the men holding Christophe. “Strip the bastard.” Jace turned and walked toward his mother. He raised his voice. “Messina, you will be staked to the ground and left to shrivel in the sun. Welcome to tribal law.”

  Lettie looked up. Twyla stood on one side and the unknown woman positioned herself on the other. Twyla offered her a sympathetic smile and reached out to cup her chin. “You’re safe now.”

  Jace nodded and the woman who was next to her trotted back to the vehicle. She disappeared behind it. The sound of ripping clothes drew Lettie’s attention back to Christophe. He was swinging fists at the men while taking a beating at the same time. More guys joined in the fray and effectively took Christophe down, holding at both his wrists and ankles. The woman moved from behind the vehicle with thick ropes hanging from her arms. She clutched long spikes and a hammer in her hands and dropped everything at Christophe’s feet. In turn, Jace’s men picked up the items. Some guys started hammering the spikes into the ground while the others tied the heavy twine to Christophe’s limbs.

  Twyla strolled up Christophe and looked down at him. “You’ve been judged.” She pulled a knife from her belt.

  Lettie rushed to Twyla. “What are you doing?”

  Twyla brows came together. “He must be cut to bleed out slow.”

  Lettie peered down at Christophe, her threat fresh in her mind. He hurt her twin and she swore retribution. She exhaled and lifted her head to meet Twyla’s gaze. “I’ll do it.”

  “What?” Twyla gazed at her in disbelief.

  “I said give me the damn knife.” Lettie held out her hand.

  Twyla’s eyes narrowed for a moment, and then she the side of her mouth lifted. “Cut deep but avoid the vein.” She dropped the blade in Lettie’s palm.

  Lettie crouched and leaned forward to whisper in Christophe’s ear. “This is for Leo.”

  He screamed as his body was yanked in all directions and Lettie raised the blade, driving it into his stomach. The smell of urine tickled her nose and she peered down his body. The idiot had pissed on himself. She rose and spit at him. “Suffering is too damn good for you.”

  Jace stalked up to her and cupped the side of her face. “You are so fucking sexy.” He pressed his mouth to hers.

  “Move out. One of you get this damn car moved or buried I don’t give a right hell which,” Twyla yelled.

  Christophe cried out in the background. “Don’t you fucking leave me! I am a Messina. I will own your asses!”

  There was a sudden burst of activity amidst a cacophony of hisses, squawks, and howls. Lettie heard the noise but her sole focus was on the warm, soft lips moving over hers. She placed her arms around his shoulders and pulled herself flush to his form.

  Jace lifted his head.

  “I must be crazy,” Lettie sighed

  “Perfect for me, sugar.” He kissed her nose

  “This Jeep is leaving, you two, so unless you want to walk out of here you might want to haul ass and take a seat,” Twyla bellowed.

  “Guess we better catch a ride.” Lettie giggled.

  Jace swooped her up. “Guess you’re right.” He carried her to the vehicle.

  Epilogue

  Twyla rested a hip on Jerimiah’s desk. “It’s been twenty-four hours. Make the call.” She rocked her leg on the edge.

  Jerimiah stared at her. It was times like this that he absolutely adored his ex-wife’s sense of war strategy. Her battle plans were genius in their simplicity and they’d shared a lot of skirmishes over the years. He raised his arm to touch her cheek. Twyla scooted out of his reach, and he blew out a breath in frustration.

  “I’m not that young squaw enthralled with a warrior coming home from the battlefield. I’m well aware of your dalliances since our separation. Make the call to Tino Messina so I can go about my business.” Twyla crossed her arms under her bosom.

  “Jace should be here. As the chief ascending, he should be part of the decisions we make.” Jerimiah’s played with Christophe’s cell phone.

  Twyla slid the burner phone across the buffed surface of his desk. “Make the damn call, you old buzzard.”

  Jerimiah chuckled and slipped a hand under his desk to adjust his cock. Just the way her lips formed words, even when she was insulting him, had the power to make him desire her. So many times he thought about telling her to come home, that they could work out their differences. Everyone believed it was him that caused their breakup when in reality it was Twyla that had walked out on him. He picked up the cell and flipped it in his hand.

  “How can we caution a foe off if he doesn’t know he’s being warned? You and I, Jerimiah, we have been through this before. How many massacres did our nations suffer? How many friends and brethren have we lost over time? Our son will not suffer our issues and mistakes. We will give that bastard the coordinates to his son’s whereabouts and hell, you know what else to say.” Twyla tapped her nails on the hardwood.

  He flipped the phone open, then picked up Christophe’s phone and scrolled through the screen. The casino techs had already unlocked the cell. One touch of the screen and the numbers scrolled up rapidly. Jerimiah tapped the phone and the numerals flashed large. He dialed Tino Messina’s phone. The line connected immediately.

  “Who the hell is this?” Tino’s abrupt tone broke through the third ring. “And how did you get my private number?”

  Jerimiah leaned back in his chair. “Listen you arrogant fuck. If you can get to the Supai Reservation and to the coordinates I’m about to give you, there is a very good chance you will find Christophe alive…maybe. You have exactly two hours from the time I give you the information to get your son and get the fuck off our lands. If he’s dead, at least you can bury what’s left of him. Let his body stand as a reminder that our tribe cannot be bought, leased, or cheated. The clock is ticking from the moment I hang up the phone. The longitude and latitude are…” He rattled off the numbers and ended the call.

  Twyla smiled down at him. “Damn, the way you issue a threat. You can still give me goose bumps.” She trembled and rubbed her arms. “I’ve already had Teka arrange for that area to be clear of any patrols. The rest is up to Messina.” Twyla stood.

  Jerimiah rose too. “Twyla, how long are you staying this time?”

  “As long as the tribe needs me.” She winked. “I’ll see you at the Hala.”

  “Just the tribe, little bird?” Jerimiah whispered is nickname for her.

  She stopped abruptly with her palm wrapped around the knob. “I have always loved you.” She stared straight ahead as she spoke and turned the handle, yanking the door open. His ex-wife crossed the threshold and pulled the door firmly shut behind her.

  He stared at the door and felt his condor clawing at his mind to reclaim his mate. Jerimiah dropped heavily into the chair and rubbed the space between his brows above his nose. She was his woman, meant for him. The first day he saw her flashed through his mind. He knew the minute he laid his eyes on her. She would never belong to another man.

  She was at the river with her mother when he saw her. The chief of the Havasupia was standing with the Apache against the white man’s army. They shamans summoned the Thunderbirds and he and his men took up the call to fight. That battle would become known as Custer’s last stand. Twyla was amazing. The next day in the hours before the attack she’d come to him bathed in morning beams and except for the buffalo skin she wore, naked. That day was the start of something beautiful, and he still had no clue why she’d left.

  He slumped back into his chair. Instead of sitting back licking his wounds, letting his anger get the best of him, it was time to get to the root of the mystery. He twinned his fingers together. He’d have more than enough time after the Hala to determine
what the hell had happened to his relationship.

  * * * *

  Jace navigated the hospital’s hallways with one intent: to get to Leticia. She was in the ICU waiting room and had been for the last twenty hours. He’d taken care of his men, cleaned up the messes they’d created, and now he could be where he belonged, with his woman. The door whined when he pushed it open. Leticia sat, curled up in a chair, her legs braced against the scarred wooden arm with her forearms resting on her knees. She had her head down in the little hollow she created with her body.

  The first thing he did after they left the dry gulch was take her to the casino. Teka made sure she had clothing from the gift shop. Once he confirmed with Myer her brother was still alive, he had Tully drive her straight to the hospital. He had to meet with his parents and the elders. He’d left that meeting a half hour ago and it still annoyed him that they’d taken so long. He wanted to be with her instead of answering redundant questions by old men that long ago forgot what passion and desire felt like. Once all their inquiries had been satisfied, the Hala was back on and Leticia would wear the full ceremonial dress of a Supai shaman that his mother would pass down to her. He already had his clothing. His ascension had been planned from his birth.

  Leticia looked up. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot. He crossed the room and scooped her up, taking her seat and setting her in his lap. Her tear-streaked cheeks were damp against his neck. She shuddered in his embrace, and he tightened his hold.

  “I called our mom. She is catching the next flight available.” She murmured against his skin.

  “Give me the information. I’ll have one of my men pick her up.” He stroked her hair.

  The door creaked, and they lifted their heads. A doctor ambled in and stopped. He glanced at a few wrinkled sheets of paper in in his hand. “Ms. Washington?”

  Leticia straightened on Jace’s lap, set her feet on the floor, and lifted her chin. “Yes.”