by Dianna Love
“Your phone’s buzzing.” She lifted it into view and handed the phone to him as she stepped out.
He hit the button for the speaker, answering, “Storm.”
Bidziil said, “Where are you?”
“Just pulled in at the villas. What’s up?”
“There’s been another death. You mentioned last night that you wished you could have scented the crime scene, as we’re calling it. I have guards on site making sure no one goes near.”
“Excellent. When I hang up, text me the address and I’ll head there.”
“Will do.”
Storm stuck the phone in his back pocket.
Evalle let him know she was ready. “How long will it take us to get there?”
Shit. Storm had originally wanted to have Evalle involved, but that was before he broke the dark spell on Sonny’s body to release the man’s spirit. Essence of the spell had tried to latch onto Storm’s majik, but he blasted it to pieces by burning the spell from inside out.
He had kept that from his uncle only because it hadn’t taken long to realize that neither Bidziil nor his security had any experience with majik.
The less anyone knew, the less chance the one using black majik would know about Storm or his power. In his world, a preternatural lived or died based on knowledge of an opponent.
Storm had beaten the spell on that first corpse, but one success didn’t equate being stronger than the person casting it.
If Evalle still possessed her Belador powers for fighting and gryphon energy for healing herself, he’d take her with him.
But he didn’t want her around majik that had attacked him.
Definitely not when it might engage with those damned lines on her body.
Her expression changed from open and ready to grim, anticipating his reply.
He admitted, “I’d rather you didn’t go with me to see this body.”
“Why? I didn’t throw up at the last one,” she joked with an edge to her words.
“I have no doubt of your ability.”
She muttered to herself and reached to push the door shut.
Storm placed his hand over hers, holding her in place.
Behind the sunglasses, her eyes narrowed. Suspicion bounced everywhere between them.
Hell, this would not go well. “I’m concerned about the majik being used on these corpses. When I broke the spell on Sonny, the residual majik looked for something to attack.”
“You.” She hadn’t asked, just confirmed.
“Yes.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“No.” He hated the flat line of her lips. “I didn’t know what exactly the spell was, and I still don’t, but my power was stronger. That’s why I came out unscathed.”
She pulled her hand away to cross her arms. “But I’m vulnerable.”
If he said no, his gut would twist in reaction to the lie. This topic wouldn’t get any better until they hashed it out. “I’m being honest with you, sweetheart. You asked for that.”
“I know.” She didn’t sound happy about the admission.
What could he do for her?
Something inside her had broken when she was captured. Not just her body, but her heart.
It ate at him that he had nothing more to offer than the bond she fought against when she’d wanted it so much at one time.
At the moment, she stabbed him with her tense gaze, waiting for words he didn’t have to make this better.
Sounding defeated, she said, “Fine. I understand what you’re saying about the dark majik.”
While he loved Evalle with every inch of his heart, he hated that polite tone. “Thank you for understanding.”
She barely nodded in answer and her shoulders sagged.
That slashed his heart into a hundred pieces.
Wait a minute. He had a peace offering.
“One more thing, sweetheart.” When she turned to him, he said, “I will absolutely set up an invitation to the seer before I leave Bidziil tonight.”
A lighter emotion trickled out from her.
As always, it took so little to make Evalle happy.
Two words came out filled with relief. “Thank you.”
His heart leaped at the tinge of hope he heard. “The minute I get it all lined up, you’ll be the first to know.” He boosted his smile to reassure her that visiting the seer wasn’t going to be a problem, or she’d back out to keep from imposing on anyone.
He didn’t care who he imposed upon.
His uncle said he appreciated Storm’s help.
It was time to call in a favor.
CHAPTER 14
Storm arrived at the victim’s home close to midnight and met Bidziil outside an adobe structure much smaller and older than the villas.
His uncle led him through a home that smelled of death, but not the normal deceased-human scent Storm had encountered before. A taint of smoke and sulfur coated it, the same smells that had been on Sonny’s body.
That confirmed the dark majik involved fire.
In the bedroom, the body of a young man wearing only loose shorts sat on a bed. Black hair pulled back at his neck seemed oddly undisturbed when a violent death should have resulted in a more disheveled appearance. His skin had turned to the grayish-brown shade of the dead, but still in stark contrast to the white sheets beneath him.
His chest had been cut open from neck to navel with a butcher knife that had then been shoved down at that point.
His hands still clutched the handle with a fierce grip.
Storm had never seen someone so disturbingly still while appearing fixed in the throes of an agonizing death. The twenty-something man had the wide forehead, flat nose, and high cheeks one would expect of a Native son, but his eyes bulged almost out of the sockets with pain. His facial muscles remained stretched taut from his mouth opened in a silent scream of agony.
Just like Sonny’s corpse.
Both had been aware of what they were doing.
Storm cut his eyes to Bidzzil.
Sweat rolled down each side of his uncle’s head and his suit hung on his haggard body. Bidziil covered his mouth with a handkerchief Storm doubted would prevent him from barfing.
After a difficult breath, Bidziil said, “His name is Imala. Was. His girlfriend, Sayen, found him. We had to sedate her.”
“You didn’t get a chance to question her?”
“No.”
Poor Bidziil might start bawling soon. Storm had to shut down his empathic senses to keep from being overloaded with his uncle’s grief.
Wiping the perspiration from his pale forehead, Bidziil pulled himself together, covered his nose and spoke with a stuffy sound. “Imala’s girlfriend snapped. She screamed nonstop. If her friend hadn’t just dropped her off and heard the first reaction before driving away, Sayen would probably still be wailing where she found her in the hall.”
Storm couldn’t fault anyone for taking the woman away from the pain. She’d have to deal with enough once she regained consciousness. “Tell me what else you know about Imala.”
“This sickens me. He was another bright star I’ve watched over since he turned twenty. He had a sharp mind and amazing people skills. I talked to him about getting into hospitality management so he could return to make a place for himself and support the clan.”
Storm began to see his uncle’s side of the disagreement with his father. That might be why his father had told Storm not to carry another man’s burden by choice any time Storm had criticized the uncle he’d never met.
Shaking that off, Storm asked, “I scent maybe six people who have been here besides you. Two I recognize from the casino.”
“Who?”
“One is Tom, the security guy you brought to the meeting last night.”
Bidziil said, “He and Imala were on a baseball team.”
“The other is that woman Adsila who brought our vehicle keys the first night.”
Again, Bidziil nodded. “She’s friends with his girlfrie
nd and transports anyone to and from work when it’s needed. I have three who do that, which could account for other scents.”
Dead end there for the moment. Storm asked, “Did your people get any intel at all?”
“Yes, my man questioned Sayen’s friend who drove her home from work sometimes. She said Imala would normally be at the door waiting for Sayen before he went to work at night in the casino restaurant. She also said Sayen talked all the time about the two of them and would have said something if they were having a problem. Her friend wouldn’t look at the body when she dragged Sayen away. Said she feared nightmares as it was. I told her Imala had taken his life. I can’t keep this quiet for long, not once Sayen is conscious again.”
“Nothing makes sense in any of this, but with two deaths we finally have a common denominator.” Storm waited for that to get through to his uncle.
Still looking wrung out, Bidziil’s voice perked up. “Really? What is it?”
“Both were connected to your casino in some way.”
His uncle deflated. “I thought about that, but most of the people in this area work there or have a family member who does.”
“I know,” Storm agreed. “But we have two bodies, so now we find another connection by going over everything we can until two threads cross. These two must have had more in common than casino employment.”
That seemed to energize Bidziil. “Let me make arrangements for Imala’s body and we’ll go to my office. I’ll call in everyone who can offer any information, even the elders. Maybe our covert security team will put together the dots. If we don’t solve this soon, the media will destroy this place.”
Storm frowned. He’d just been willing to give his uncle credit for his work to improve the tribe. Was Bidzill now concerned about a media circus that would disrupt the clan or about the casino’s monetary loss by negative press?
Bidziil glanced at Storm and expelled a sigh. “Don’t misunderstand me. I don’t care about the loss of money, but I’ve watched everyone here go from destitution to building real lives. The media will destroy our community. All that being said, I don’t want to lose another of my people.”
Storm told himself to stop being so quick to judge when he’d always been fair with others. “Please ask everyone to step outside for a moment, Bidziil.”
“You going to use your majik on it?”
“If this is the same type of spell, I have to release Imala’s spirit.”
Nodding with a tired movement, Bidziil stepped away. “I’ll clear the house.”
Storm opened up his empathic gift just a little. He picked up genuine mourning from his uncle so heavy that sensing the emotion hurt. He’d clearly cared deeply for those two young men. He wouldn’t shield anyone from this investigation.
Once the house had emptied, Storm performed the same ritual over this body.
Prepared for an attack this time, Storm squashed the rogue majik with minimum burning inside the body and managed to not light the bed on fire.
As the spirit passed over, it whispered, Evil blossom.
Could that be used in the spell the way sage and other herbs were to heal?
Storm headed for the door with what might just break this case tonight.
CHAPTER 15
Tired of going over the same information again, Storm said, “We’re missing something. I may have to reevaluate dismissing Nascha and the seer. This has to be someone with knowledge of how the supernatural works.”
Bidziil sounded wary when he rushed to note, “Your father had been training Nascha before he left. I trust Sani’s choice of Nascha over my own opinion.”
So would Storm, but his father would be telling him to keep his eyes open. All those years can change a person.
Rubbing his tired eyes, Storm stood his ground in the executive suite where he, Bidziil, three elders, and three security officers met. “I’m not accusing either person of a crime, but they might know who is at fault. It’s time to bring them in to be questioned. What about the seer? Nascha criticized her.”
“While Haloke does not have Nascha’s power, her heart is in the right place. She’s been a good friend of the clan her whole life. Many go to her for counseling as a friend as much as her ability to find a problem.”
That didn’t sound as if the woman would be any help to Evalle after all.
“Do you trust her?”
Lifting his shoulders, Bidziil said, “We have no reason not to. Haloke stayed with us even after her son died. That speaks volumes for her dedication to the clan.”
Two elders nodded in sync with Bidziil’s words.
The third old guy, Gad, had yet to warm up to Storm, but in truth he’d been surprised the others even allowed Bidziil to invite him.
Nothing would get solved if anyone held back information.
Sensing distrust from this elder, Storm offered, “Please speak your mind, Gad. I won’t take insult.”
Gad stood. “You come here and question those who have served our tribe for many years when your own father walked away.”
“Gad!” Bidziil’s face erupted in irritation.
There it was, the underlying anger permeating the room. Storm said, “I can’t argue that point, but my father shared much about all of you and loved this tribe.”
Ignoring Bidziil, Gad harrumphed. “Words mean nothing. Actions are everything.”
The officers seated and standing remained silent, but their expressions denoted a keen interest in the conversation.
“Again, I agree, but my father felt for him to remain would have divided the tribe.” Storm took in Bidziil’s face, which registered surprise. “It’s true, Bidziil. As I grew up, he told me he had been disheartened when he left. He felt all of you failed your people by not holding tight to the old ways.”
Rage churned the air now, but Storm had the floor and had more to say. He might as well get it all off his chest, every bit of the truth. It would likely be his last chance to speak.
“Over the years as my father worked with the Ashaninka tribe to show them ways to improve their lives while holding on to their culture, he realized he still had to introduce new thinking so they would survive. They remained primitive in many ways, but the time he spent becoming integrated into that tribe opened his eyes to how close-minded he’d been toward Bidziil’s vision for their people. My father admitted that had he been more open to new ideas, he could have been here to maintain the culture of his people during those changes just as he had for the Ashaninka. In other words, he regretted his action and the hurt he caused.”
Now that Storm had spent some time with his uncle, he, too, regretted harboring anger at a man he’d never known.
Lessons learned all around.
Calm settled over the room.
The elder called Tahoma sat back. His fingers tapped on the arm of his chair. “You say ‘your’ people. Do you not feel any tie to this tribe?”
Bidziil jumped in. “Why should he? From the moment he showed up, Storm has been treated as an outsider. I was angry when Sani left, but I’ve also seen our culture slowly disintegrate. That’s why I formed a committee to do as Sani had wanted to maintain the old ways.” He glared at the elders. “You three argued with me.”
Gad grumbled something under his breath. “You wanted to bring in outsiders.”
“Most of them were Dine!” Bidziil argued. He evidently needed to get a few things off his chest, too. Grief would do that. He wasn’t done. “We have to do more to save our past and protect our future. Look around the Dine nation. Every clan is doing this in some way.”
The last elder spoke, which surprised Storm, because Yazzle appeared so timid he leaned with the strongest wind. “I will do a better job supporting the committee, Bidziil.”
The other two gave Yazzle a glare that accused him of being the class suck-up.
On a roll, Bidziil said, “Thank you, Yazzle, but all of you fought me on sending our people to college.”
Tahoma said, “Wait a minute, Bidziil. I
supported that with my own funds.”
“Yes, you did, until you realized they were accepting placements outside the reservation.”
Shrugging, Tahoma said, “I don’t like money leaving our land. You shouldn’t have left either.”
Bidziil appeared ready to yank his hair out. “Had I not gone to a university with specific studies, I might not have understood the fine print attached to our sovereignty. No one could build a house or start a business on land they owned, but we have worked around that, haven’t we?”
Grumbling acknowledgement circled the room.
Storm continued to reevaluate the negative attitude he’d arrived with, which was good for the soul.
But this group strayed from the reason for the meeting.
He wanted to find the dark majik user.
This bunch could hold board meetings on their own time.
Before he had a chance to return them to the discussion, Gad said, “I’m surprised you don’t know more about this clan.”
Taken aback, Storm asked, “Why would you think that when my father and I lived thousands of miles away in a remote jungle location?”
“Haloke claimed she kept up with Sani through dream walking.”
Hairs along Storm’s neck stood.
He searched his mind frantically for any mention of Haloke, but his father spoke only of the tribe as a whole with the exception of a few specific people. Storm assumed other memories held too much pain.
Storm knew in that second he’d missed something significant and this could be it. “My father never spoke of a person called Haloke. How did she know him?” Storm sent that last question in Bidziil’s direction.
Tahoma turned another look of surprise on Storm and spoke before Bidziil could. “Your father never mentioned her? They were very close growing up. Many thought those two would become a powerful couple.”
Bidziil said, “Sani would not have called her Haloke. She only took that name when she mourned his leaving and felt she had lost that part of her.”
“That’s right,” Tahoma agreed.
Concern crawled up Storm’s spine. His hands dampened. “What would he have known her by?”