Suddenly feeling better about his prospects, Brandon Hiller made a right at the next corner, and turned into the residential area near Westlake. Pulling up to the curb to wait, he immediately began to tap the steering wheel in a nervous habit as he scouted for what he needed to calm himself down.
He didn’t have to wait long before kids burst out of the school in a mass exodus, streaming along the sidewalks and over the rolling grass. Taking in as many choices as he could, soon his eyes lit on the little blonde, the one walking alone, probably a third or fourth grader. He turned the key on the van.
There really was no time for finesse, so he’d have to follow her for a few blocks, wait for his opportunity to grab her and get her into the vehicle. He’d have to get rid of her body someplace else though since he couldn’t very well take her back to Tacoma.
About that time, Hiller looked up to check his rearview mirror. His heart almost stuttered in his chest when he spotted the familiar blue shade of a police unit several car lengths back. As soon as the van reached the end of the block, at the corner, Hiller took a left at the four-way stop. When the cop made the same turn, Hiller decided he needed to play it cool. But he also knew he had to get the hell out of the neighborhood. He took a quick right on Madison, realized the cop car hadn’t made the same turn. But he took his close call as a sign that he still needed to lay low—and lay low was exactly what he intended to do—at least until it was safe to go on the hunt again.
He couldn’t go to his sister’s place. He had to find somewhere to keep off the radar, some deep, dark hole where he could hide.
Josh’s headache lingered for two days. But even after his head stopped hammering, there were changes. His sense of smell had increased a hundred-fold. He could now distinguish between fear and calm, between friend and foe. Not only that, he could also bench press three times his weight and since yesterday morning, could take Skye down in a sparring match, something he hadn’t been able to do before.
He had his same body mass. His muscles were still the same size they’d been since college. It wasn’t like he’d gained weight or took on a bodybuilder’s physique overnight. He hadn’t. But now the strength he possessed seemed—innate, almost otherworldly.
He’d learned a valuable lesson though. Never again would he underestimate the enemy, not the likes of Whitfield or anyone else. He’d been careless. He’d allowed the man to sneak up on both of them and put Skye in jeopardy—again.
Josh had to face the truth. His sloppiness could’ve allowed Whitfield to kill Skye. If not for Kiya…
He glanced over at Skye, took in the bruises on her face. He could still make out the purplish traces of fingerprints along her neck from the man who had tried to strangle her. Despite two cracked ribs and a wrenched knee, she was getting around remarkably well. Every time Josh looked at her, every time he thought about how close he’d come to losing her and his own life in the process, he could only consider how lucky they’d both been to survive against their own stupidity. Josh could still see that monster trying to choke the life out of her with his bare hands. No, Josh would take that image to his grave. He would learn from the lesson. He’d never again be quite that stupid.
In the kitchen in his loft, Josh watched Skye as she worked on yet another one of Daniel Cree’s remedies to get both man and wolf back to the way they’d been before the merge. Of course nothing in her father’s notes covered the actual joining between breeds. Shamans might’ve sung about it, legends may have been retold around the lodge fires, but no one had ever experienced such a transformation in reality.
“I give up,” Skye announced as she pushed her father’s leather-bound journal across the table. “I’ve tried everything, bought every natural herb mentioned in that book, mixed it with all the right things, in the correct measurements and dosage, and not one of them has even come close.”
For days the house had smelled of sage, rosemary, and thyme along with a blend of nettle, aloe, and sweet grass. One would’ve thought Thanksgiving turkey roasted in the oven instead of cooking up an antidote to a thousand-year-old myth.
“I’m not taking peyote again,” Josh said flatly. “I admit it was a kick at first to meditate and get in touch with my feminine wolf side, but once should’ve been enough.”
Skye snickered, then sighed. “Josh, I’m no good at this. After this much time has passed the aftereffects of the merge should’ve diminished by now. They haven’t. I’ve tried every cleanse listed in that book.”
“I know you have since I’ve been your lab rat.”
“I should probably call Travis.”
“We’ve talked about this, Skye. I thought we agreed. It’s better if we’re the only two who know what happened out there.”
She looked insulted. “Not now, nor do you ever have to worry about me telling anyone what happened to that despicable excuse for a human being. I’ll swear it on the graves of my parents if that’s what it takes for you to believe me. No one will know—from me. Ever. And that includes Travis.”
Josh rose, went to her, framed her face. “I’m not worried about that, Skye. But Travis is bound to get curious how this all came to be, especially when you start bringing up the legend out of the blue. Don’t you think Travis will wonder why you’re asking? And besides, I don’t think he’ll be as supportive as you seemed to think since I’m involved. Need I remind you of his less than lukewarm reception the other night? And that was before all this took place.”
“Maybe. But he doesn’t have to know details. I’m telling you Travis can be trusted. Besides, my knowledge is simply…too limited for something this huge. His is better. And dad’s remedies don’t exactly cover this type of—ailment. I’ve read through the entire set of journals…twice.”
“How exactly did you get to keep your father’s books? The way you described your Aunt Ginny and Uncle Bob, I’d think they would’ve wanted to burn them at the first available opportunity.”
“Oh I’m sure they did. But Travis went in after the accident and boxed up my parents’ possessions, kept what he could for me in storage. That included all of my father’s books, my mother’s artwork. Travis held onto the stuff even though he had to pay storage for years until I could go through the contents and figure out what I wanted to keep.”
Josh ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t think it was a good idea for them to get a case of loose lips now but Skye seemed to want to trust the guy. This certainly hadn’t been the first time she’d brought him into the conversation over the past several days. “Then what you’re saying is this Travis is your only family but not. Maybe that’s why he acts like your overprotective father.”
She harrumphed at that. “He’s never had to worry about that before.”
“Until now.”
Their eyes met. That pull in the belly had her puffing out a breath. “I’ll talk to him. Okay? Travis is like my only real family without being blood. And Ginny and Bob don’t count. Travis is genuine. He likes me for me, unconditionally.”
Josh wrapped a hand around hers. “I’d say he loves you, Skye. Like a father.”
“I won’t argue with that assessment. He’s been incredibly supportive over the years. And that’s why I think there’s a chance he’ll be able to come up with just the right dose of—something—to help you get back—”
“I don’t think this is going away with an herbal remedy. Nor do I think letting anyone in on what happened is the answer. I’m willing to ride it out but...if you want to let Travis in on this deal because he’s someone you think you can trust and believe he’ll be able to come up with something that might help then I won’t stop you. But I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“You have to trust me.” She ran a nervous hand through her hair feeling anything but confident that she was making the right decision for both of them. “I know you’re willing to ride it out but I’d feel better if Travis looked at you. We need to know—if this is permanent. What if it’s permanent, Josh? Have you considered the ramific
ations of that?” She reached for her phone. “No, it never hurts to call in reinforcements or backup when we’re in way over our heads.”
“I’m certain that horse has already left the barn, in fact it’s probably well into the next county by now,” he muttered as he listened to Skye try to explain their situation to a man that did not like him. As the conversation progressed, Josh felt mounting unease with each word out of Skye’s mouth. And when Travis suggested that he go get a blood test, Josh knew for certain that getting Travis involved was a very bad idea.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The next morning Josh’s apprehension only increased during the long, traffic-congested drive north out to The Painted Crow. Because Travis Nakota was the last person he wanted to see at the moment. But as the car approached the main gate, Josh got a look at the guy’s property in broad daylight and saw what he’d missed the other night. Amid the majestic beauty of thick evergreens and rolling pastureland, the ranch sat on a forest of cliff and peak before it dropped down a good hundred feet onto a narrow inlet of rocky coastline dotted with a variety of conifers.
You could smell the unmistakable aroma of salt and sea mixed with Douglas fir and pine from inside the Subaru. Today the mist of gray rolling in on the horizon met headlong with the blue-green waves that slammed up against the wedge of shore. To Josh it looked like something out of a dark and moody painting.
Maybe it was an omen, he thought as he walked into the lions’ den or rather into Travis’s living room, a traditional man’s room filled with soft black leather furniture, chrome accents, and mahogany wood. Josh expected to see the heads of animals decorating the walls. Instead of that though, there were several large oil paintings done by a local Native American artist named Ty Moon. Josh immediately recognized the style and bold use of color the man was known to use in his landscapes and Native scenes.
As Josh stood five feet away, Travis Nakota never spared him a glance. His demeanor all business, Travis got right down to the reason they were there in the first place. He sat behind a massive desk styled with western carvings and studied the piece of paper with the test results before finally looking up at Josh then at Skye. He scratched his chin. “The blood work confirms some of Kiya the wolf is in Ander. Is that what you wanted to know? Does it help knowing the man is an anomaly?”
“By any chance, could you call the man Josh?” Skye requested in a tight voice.
“Why?”
“Because he’s going to be around awhile.”
Travis twisted up his mouth. “How about if I refer to him as paleface, how would that be?”
“Stereotype much?” Josh asked with an undercurrent of resentment. He was pretty much fed up with the man’s attitude. “I’d settle for kemosabe.”
“I’ll kemosabe your ass,” Travis shot back.
“What is wrong with you?” Skye demanded when she turned to face Travis head on. “You’ve been acting weird lately.”
“I’ll tell you what’s wrong with him. You brought a man here. Twice. Me. And he doesn’t like it very much,” Josh reasoned. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Nakota? Why don’t you tell her how you really feel about me?”
“Travis?” Skye asked truly bewildered at his attitude. She’d never seen him act quite so rude and distant before.
Travis let out an exasperated sigh before turning to the woman he considered his surrogate daughter and had since the day the thirteen-year-old girl had lost her parents. During that time he’d had to sit by and do nothing except watch—as she was forced to go live with people—Jodi Cree had described as mean-spirited hiding behind a religious façade. The courts back then might’ve tied his hands, but now he refused to sit idly by and watch Skye make an error in judgment that might affect the rest of her life. “I knew one day it would happen. I knew one day, you’d find some scruffy piece of shit on the streets as you made your nightly rounds and drag him here and force me to be nice to him. Well, it won’t work.”
“I told you this was a bad idea,” Josh tossed back to Skye.
Skye’s shoulders slumped. She ran a hand through her hair. “Travis, when I called you, you assured me you could be open-minded and reasonable where Josh was concerned. This is a serious issue and you’re making it much more difficult. We need your help—not your anger over my choice in men.”
“Fine,” Travis managed through gritted teeth. “But I think I’ve been incredibly generous in the fact that I haven’t asked a lot of questions up to this point about your relationship and why in the hell you’re with this guy in the first place. Let alone not inquiring as to how this all came about. And why the hell didn’t you tell me about Whitfield? Tell me that. Why the hell did I have to read it in the newspaper? Did it occur to you I might want to rejoice at knowing that son of a bitch finally met his demise? They listed his cause of death as an animal attack. Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I don’t know this mysterious ailment Josh has isn’t somehow connected to what happened to Whitfield? I may look stupid—”
“Stop it!” Skye bellowed. “I’m sorry. Okay? You’re right. I should’ve told you about Whitfield myself. But we’ve been dealing with a great deal of stress ever since it happened. Just please do not ask for details. Please.”
“Don’t ask for details? Your spirit guide has set you upon a path that only you should know about. That’s tradition, part of your heritage. And yet, Ander knows. An outsider knows. Someone who makes fun of our beliefs every chance they get.” Travis pointed an accusatory finger at Josh and went on, “You may have disturbed her path, altered it, weakened it, and put her on a different course entirely than the one she was destined to walk. Now the path is not clear, clouded even, one that might get her killed.”
“Wait a minute. Not now, nor have I ever made fun of Skye’s beliefs,” Josh avowed. “Kiya is sacred to her. I wouldn’t do that. And besides—”
Skye tried for calm. “Travis, there’s no point in blaming Josh. It was Kiya’s decision, her action is the reason we’re here.” She turned to Josh. “We might as well level with him otherwise he’s only going to jump to conclusions that simply aren’t true.”
She turned back to Travis. “I’ve known you my entire life. You were my father’s best friend. I need you now. No, that’s not entirely accurate. We need your expertise now more than ever. Josh did nothing to bring this on. Nothing. He was trying to help me. You just gave us the test results. What do you think they mean, Travis? That piece of paper doesn’t lie. It shows Josh has Kiya’s blood running through him. How do you think that came to be? Josh did nothing,” she repeated. Except die, thought Skye. “Kiya brought to life the legend on her own. I’ve heard stories about the spirit-dominated transformation—” Skye’s steam trailed off as she dropped down into one of the leather chairs. “And we don’t know how to reverse it. Or if it’s permanent.”
Travis’s eyes narrowed at the realization of what she’d admitted. “Kiya…did this? She sacrificed herself for this—?”
“Outsider? Yes,” Josh finished.
“What could possibly have happened—?” Travis stopped, deliberately considered Josh, long and hard. He puffed out a breath. “Kiya must have felt you were deserving of this—power then.” Travis rubbed at his throbbing temple before steepling his fingers, all the while sinking back into his chair. His shoulders appeared to slump as his irritation finally reached its finish line. “I might not fathom the why, but then sometimes the spirit guide senses and feels things we do not and cannot understand.”
“It was dire circumstances,” Josh explained as he began to stride, animal-like, back and forth, back and forth. “But the bottom line is this. We either can count on your help or we can’t. Which is it?”
Several seconds went by before Travis spoke. “All right, all right, but let’s back up here a minute, take it one step at a time.” He shuffled the paper, turned the page to read the rest of the results he held in his hand. For a long time he said nothing, thinking, weighing what he wanted to say. Finally, he spoke in
calm tones. “Okay, I’d say at this point, Josh’s blood has to be about ten percent Kiya while Kiya is more than likely made up of about that same percent of Josh. At least. That’s a guess by the way, a rough estimate. Could be higher, it’s tough to tell with any accuracy. That number’s preventing both of them from returning to the way they were—in spite of what you’ve tried—before their uniting of spirit, merging of instincts.”
“But it’s only ten percent,” Skye pointed out. “Surely that small amount wouldn’t make that much of a difference. Would it?”
Travis scrubbed a hand over his face. “Wrong. According to what brought you here, what you told me over the phone yesterday; traits have merged, remained steadfast for days now. After this much time’s gone by the behavior should have diminished. That much I do know. It’s—significant that it hasn’t. And telling.”
On some level Josh had already figured that much out for himself. He and Skye had talked about it. There were just too many changes to his norm. He’d always loved steak, but lately meat had become a must, the rarer the better. His senses were off the charts, all of them. He no longer needed his wire-rims to see distance. He could pick up noise from three blocks away—and that was in the city—in the country it was twice that far. But hearing someone with Native American roots and knowledge of the legend confirm what he’d suspected for days took some getting used to.
Skye misread the look on Josh’s face for something else. “I understand you’re upset but you were dead, Josh. This…merge, for lack of a better word, brought you back to me. I know you aren’t the same as you were but—”
“I wouldn’t be standing here if Kiya hadn’t done what she did.” Josh met Travis’s brown eyes and noted they’d warmed some. But then, he saw the curiosity peak in them. “I told you the situation was dire, life or death, a desperate set of circumstances.”
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