RedKnife (Skin Walkers Book 2)

by Susan Bliler

  “I’ve contacted our chief of surgery. She says I shouldn’t move you now, but once I get the all-clear we’re going back to StoneCrow.”

  Cindy’s heart stuttered to a halt. What about Monroe? What about RedKnife’s promise? She pulled away from him. “But you said…”

  His expression darkened. “I remember my vow. But you’re ill, and I don’t know what I’m doing. My promise applies to myself as well, and if I can’t take care of you, then I’m harming you. Jenny knows what to do. She can fix you.”

  “I’m just sick. We can wait it out.”

  “You’re not just sick. Something is wrong with your hip.”

  She was surprised that he knew. “How do you…?”

  “I followed you for quite a ways. I was hoping you’d turn back.” He shook his head. “It was foolish. I should have stopped you as soon as I found you.”

  Cindy shifted on the bed, reaching beneath the covers to run a hand gingerly over her leg. Her hips did still ache, but it didn’t keep her from saying, “I’m fine, I…” Words failed as she smoothed a hand up over her naked abdomen.

  “What?” His eyes narrowed on her.

  “That’s funny.”

  “What?” He demanded a second time, stepping closer.

  “It’s just…” Her delicate brow crinkled. “I’m so hot, but my stomach feels…”

  When she didn’t finish, his eyes dipped to the covers that hid her stomach from view. “What?”

  Her mouth was open, but no words passed her lips, and she shook her head. RedKnife crossed to sit on the bed, sliding a hand under the blanket. Her belly felt like ice. He slid a hand down to her thigh and found it hot to the touch. His gaze jerked to hers as he pulled his hand out from under the covers and placed it on her chest, then her head. Her body was burning up everywhere except for her stomach.

  Growling, he stood and began stripping off his clothes.

  “What…what are you doing?”

  “We have to bring up your core temperature.”

  He knew Cindy worried too when she didn’t argue but simply waited patiently for him to strip down to his underwear then crawl into the bed with her.

  Pulling her close, he settled her so she was lying on top of him. Belly to belly, he could feel just how cold her core was, which had him scared as hell. Can humans die from cold? He didn’t know, and he was terrified of finding out.

  Chapter 15

  Bodies pressed intimately close, RedKnife contacted Jenny through the mist, and was relieved to hear that he was doing exactly the right thing.

  She had asked for his location, but he’d refused, too afraid of Monroe getting his hands on Cindy when she was this ill. He didn’t know the Dominant well enough to know if he’d have sympathy for someone he perceived as an enemy.

  Now, as he held Cindy close to him, he worried as she drifted in and out of consciousness for the next few hours.

  He never slept, too afraid. When she murmured and asked what time it was, he didn’t respond. It didn’t matter. Lowering his head, he whispered into her hair. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for falsely accusing you, and I’m sorry for dragging you here.”

  She didn’t speak for long minutes, and he assumed she’d fallen back asleep when she finally spoke. “I thought…”

  “What?”

  “I thought you were my friend.”

  Friend. Such a rare gift. He’d been honored with very few friends, and the one time he’d been given the opportunity to be one, he’d failed. Worse, he’d failed the one person on Earth who he felt more connected to than any other. “I am. I’ll do better. I swear it.”

  “RedKnife?”

  “Mmm?”

  “I feel…weird.” His arms tightened around her. “What if I don’t get better? What if…”

  “Shhhh.” He smoothed her hair back with one hand and kissed her forehead. “I won’t let you go. Not now.” His whispered words grew even quieter, until they were barely audible over the crackling fire and the whine of the wind outside. “Not ever.”

  ***

  Cindy’s breathing evened out and her heart-rate slowed. RedKnife knew she slept and he pulled her even harder into him, afraid he’d lose her if he didn’t keep her close. The thought prompted a desperate measure.

  Closing his eyes, RedKnife concentrated. His Grandfather had told him he was capable of acts no other Walker could accomplish. Even his Grandfather had admitted he had no idea how far RedKnife’s powers would extend. Before, he’d been fearful of testing his boundaries, but now, he was willing to try anything.

  Focusing, he listened to Cindy’s heart. He felt its steady beat against his chest, slowing his breathing until his heartbeat matched hers. Focusing on his body, he allowed the steady rhythm to throb in his fingers and pulse in his feet. His brow furrowed as he concentrated harder, focusing on Cindy’s body. He noted the higher temperature of her face and chest, and wanted to growl at the chilly skin of her torso. Narrowing his thoughts, he envisioned the sickness within her as a cloudy mist, coursing through her limbs and core.

  Exhaling, he envisioned the mist parting, clinging to the inside of her skin. She coughed, and he focused harder. His arms began to tremble as he used his power to force the sickness to seep out of her body through her pores.

  Unsure if it was working, he focused his will, forcing the mist through her skin. His focus was so intense that he no longer heard any sound outside their beating hearts and mingled breathing.

  Minutes passed as he envisioned the poison of sickness leaving her body. Shifting, he noted that her stomach no longer felt icy and their bodies were slicked together with a fine sheet of perspiration. It’s working!

  Elation soared, but he remained deep in concentration. His mind swept through her body until no trace of the mist lingered. When he was finally satisfied that he’d exorcised all the sickness, he opened his eyes and huffed out a huge breath before exhaustion claimed him.

  ***

  RedKnife woke slowly. Stretching, he tensed when his+ body didn’t encounter the hard-packed Earth, but a soft bed. His eyes snapped open, and he jerked upright. Cindy was gone!

  Ripping the covers back, he didn’t bother snatching up his clothes as he raced for the front door.

  Hitting the living area, he slammed to a halt when Cindy smiled up at him from the couch.

  “Morning, sleepy head.”

  The sight of her up and smiling was such a relief that he had to swallow against the emotion that had him wanting to rush her and crush her to him.

  “I made breakfast a while ago, but I thought I’d let you sleep.” She ducked her head sheepishly. “I figured you were probably exhausted from staying up to watch over me. Thanks for that.”

  He stepped into the living room. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better.” She smiled, then blushed when he came to stand over her.

  He knew his state of attire made her uncomfortable when she lowered her head, letting her gaze travel over his body. He didn’t care. He had to make sure.

  Squatting in front of her, which brought him to her eye level; he lifted a hand and laid it on her forehead. The fever was gone.

  Dropping to kneel before her, he forced her back on the couch. She squeaked when he lifted her shirt, and she fisted both sides trying to force it down. “Hey,” she laughed uncomfortably.

  He slid a hand onto her belly and held it there.

  Cindy relaxed into the couch and sighed. “I’m better, RedKnife. Promise.”

  Turning her head, she eyed him with soft hazel eyes.

  Unable to stop himself, RedKnife rubbed his hand over her, enjoying her softness. She tensed, then caught his hand. “That tickles,” she giggled.

  Tickles. He’d heard of this. Humans had places on their bodies that, when touched, made them laugh. How magical. He loved Cindy’s smile, and the giggle that left her sounded so delightful that he found himself smiling with her.

  His hand smoothed over her belly again and she laughed. He went to rub h
er again, but he’d lifted his hand and his fingers brushed over one of her breasts. She inhaled sharply and stilled. He did as well.

  Then it hit him. The sweet aroma of her arousal wafted to him, hitting him like a ton of bricks. The animals within surged to the fore with such force that he had to throw himself back away from her to keep from acting on his impulses.

  Cindy gasped and sat up to watch as RedKnife scrambled to his feet and hurried from the room.

  Chapter 16

  After a long cold shower and fully dressed, RedKnife sauntered into the living room to find Cindy still on the couch, watching television while she folded laundry on her lap. The newscaster’s weather report filtered in as background noise. “With an unpredicted thirty-nine inches of snow having fallen in the past few weeks, and no foreseeable end in sight, forecasters and meteorologists are scrambling to explain this sudden onslaught of the white stuff. Jim will have all the details after the break.”

  When a sentimental Christmas commercial began to play she stopped folding to watch the screen, sadness flowing across her face. He stood quietly, observing her carefully as she watched the commercial with an almost haunted expression.

  RedKnife watched as whimsical Christmas music filled the room and Cindy’s hazel eyes filled with sadness as she leaned forward in her seat. When the commercial ended, her shoulders slumped and she shook her head before grabbing the remote and flicking the TV off.

  She didn’t look up as he entered and claimed a seat next to her.

  His eyes went to the window and he silently watched the snow. The beauty that typically called to him suddenly didn’t. Surprisingly, he’d been so focused on her as of late that he hadn’t even noticed that his anxiety at being indoors was absent.

  Watching as she worked quietly at folding laundry, he snatched up a towel to help. He tried to covertly watch her actions so he could mimic her folding, unwilling to admit that he just crammed the damn things into the cupboard and yanked the wrinkled items out as needed.

  Christmas. His mind returned to the commercial and Cindy’s reaction to it. It mirrored his own sentiments. He knew what the holiday was, but he’d never really enjoyed the day, having never truly experienced society’s practices. Growing up with his Grandfather in the deserts of Arizona, the closest they’d come to exchanging gifts was sharing a can of blueberries or a fresh deer on Christmas morning before going their separate ways for the remainder of the day. Often, in his adult years, he’d seek out a small town and hunker down in coyote. He’d had real enjoyment watching the families as they’d rise early and exchange gifts around a brightly lit tree. It became a pleasant ritual, until one year bitter loneliness hit hard. It was the year he’d lost his grandfather. After that year, he’d spent every Christmas alone, hunting in the deepest parts of the Kaibab National forest. There was something soothing about spending the joyous day in a place that had never known a man’s footprint. In all honesty, he didn’t know what to do with the loneliness that plagued him. It took no time at all to realize he couldn’t outrun the emotion, and Christmas was an unpleasant reminder of the loss of his grandfather, and the fact that he was alone in the world.

  Now, watching Cindy sober at the prospect of the upcoming holiday, he empathized. He couldn’t help but ask, “Not much into the holiday?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  He stared at her and waited.

  Letting out an exasperated breath, Cindy relented. “I work every Christmas.”

  “Why?” he prodded. “What about your family?”

  “My folks are gone.”

  “Gone?”

  “Gone.” She nodded grimly.

  “And your brother?”

  “The world-class fuck up?” She rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t spend the day with him if you paid me.”

  Warning bells went off in his head. “You said you were working so much to pay down his debt? If you don’t like him…”

  Her eyes narrowed angrily. “I am busting my ass to pay down his debt, but I’m not doing it as a favor to him. I’m doing it for my parents.”

  “You said they were gone.”

  “They are.” She bit out quickly, then dipped her head to hide the sadness that always accompanied speaking of them.

  RedKnife was quiet a moment before finally asking, “If they’re gone, how are you doing this for them?”

  Her cheeks flamed. “I wasn’t ever there for Cody. I should have been, but I wasn’t. I was too busy trying to live my own life, make my own mark. I liked to travel, and…” She shook her head sadly. “Mom always said I should take care of him. I should…”

  When she didn’t finish, he did it for her. “You feel like you owe it to them. To their memory. And he’s all you have left.”

  She ignored the softness of his tone, shaking off the understanding she thought she saw in his dark eyes. “Well that, and…” Her words trailed off and her body tensed as if she’d almost given away too much.

  “And what?”

  She shook her head and RedKnife demanded, “Cindy?”

  “It’s just,” she splayed her hand in a gesture of nonchalance. “He’s just…He’s just scary.”

  White-hot rage seared him. She was doing all this because she was afraid of him? When he spoke, his voice had lowered dangerously. “Has he hurt you?”

  She didn’t look at him. “He’s pushed me around some. Nothing I couldn’t handle. I’m pretty tough. He just gets more and more aggressive every time we meet. I’m worried he’ll eventually take things too far.” She laughed lamely before sucking in a deep breath and quickly changing the subject. She had no idea that RedKnife made a mental note to take care of her brother.

  “Anyway, Christmas is for kids. There is no Santa. It’s just a dumb holiday, perpetuated by retailers to promote industry.” Her hands stilled in their task and her gaze shot to his, regret clear. “I’m sorry.” She shrugged, dropping the facecloth she’d been folding. “It’s not… I don’t.” Drawing in a breath she tried again. “I didn’t mean to rain on your parade. I’m sure there are lots of people that enjoy the holiday for their own reasons.”

  RedKnife’s lips thinned. “I don’t.” He nearly smiled at the relief that flooded her expression.

  “You…you don’t like Christmas either?”

  “No.” He folded his towel in what he hoped was the exact pattern he’d seen her use.

  Cindy smiled at him. “Well, maybe we’ll both work and it won’t be so bad.”

  He hated to let her down. “The Estate is shutting down. No one in, and no one out.”

  Alarm laced her tone. “Why? Is something wrong?”

  “No,” he was quick to respond. “It’s just that this is our first Christmas here, and Monroe’s concerned. Some of the staff have been hinting about a Christmas party, but he’s adamant that there will be no celebration. Some have family coming in. It’s too much for security right now. We’re going on lock-down.”

  “He doesn’t like Christmas either?” She nodded. “Mm, makes sense.”

  They folded in silence a few moments before she asked, “What do you do on Christmas? Spend it with family?”

  “Nothing. I have no family except King.”

  “King?” Delicate brows furrowed in disbelief. “I’d have never guessed.”

  “There is no blood relation, but he’s as close to a brother as I’ve ever known.”

  “So,” she tried to sound airy. “No mom, no dad?”

  He shook his head. “Never knew them. I was raised by my grandfather.”

  “I-is he living?”

  RedKnife’s lips thinned and he shook his head once.

  “I’m sorry,” Cindy whispered.

  He turned challenging eyes on her. “Why?”

  She shrugged. “I know how painful it can be to feel alone in this world. It…well, it fucking sucks.”

  The corner of RedKnife’s mouth lifted. “It does.”

  Silence reigned a moment before Cindy asked tentatively, “W-w
hat was his name?”

  RedKnife swallowed hard. “Shelika.”

  “Shelika? That’s…beautiful.”

  He smiled. “It means RainMaker.”

  Deciding to change the subject, Cindy smiled, taking up the forgotten laundry and folding it neatly. “So. If you could have one thing for Christmas, what would it be?”

  RedKnife pinned her with dark eyes. You. His jaw clenched at the spontaneous thought and he answered without blinking. “Family. Someone to trust.”

  Cindy felt her heart break, and she wanted to apologize for even asking when he countered, “You?”

  She worried her bottom lip. “Beautiful dreams.” She attempted a smile, but failed. What a pair, she thought. Both wishing for things we can’t have.

  “Beautiful dreams?” His brows furrowed. “You have nightmares?”

  “I rarely sleep.” She blew out a pent-up breath. “And when I do, yes. I typically have nightmares.”

  “About what?”

  It was her turn to swallow hard as she let her gaze travel the room. “Just…things.”

  “What things?”

  Christ, he was stubborn! She sighed hard and decided to be honest. “My brother being killed. My parents being chased down. Me drowning.” She studied the towel in her hands and hurried on. “Clearly, they are all just manifestations of worry over my idiot brother and the trouble he’s wrought.” She shook her head. “I just wish that he’d get his shit together.”

  “So you could sleep better.”

  Her eyes darted to his. “I know it sounds selfish, but…”

  RedKnife didn’t let her finish. “It sounds exhausting.” His scowl softened. “I’m sorry.”

  She smiled humorlessly. “Well, don’t be.” Lifting a hand she pointed at her head. “It’s all just messed up in here. I just need to work on finding my own happiness.”

  “And how do you do that?”

  “Ya know, I have no idea. I just need…something!”

  Is that an invitation? He didn’t respond as he concentrated on the terrible job he was doing folding laundry.

  Chapter 17

  Two days before Christmas Cindy stirred from her sleep as the scent of fresh coffee and cinnamon assailed her. Her blankets were warm and she hunkered deeper, debating on padding down the hall to the enticing scents, or lingering to see if sleep reclaimed her. Peeking out the window she felt her belly give an involuntary flutter. It was barely dawn, but the warmth of the bed, the scent of delicious food, and the sense of protection she felt knowing RedKnife was watching over her, had her feeling the giddy anticipation of Christmas morning.