Bad Moon Rising - Paranormal Romance

by Lorraine Kennedy

  Mya was slightly disturbed by Jen’s reaction. This was the same girl that had once gone home with two guys at once when she was fighting with Chad. That kind of thing wasn’t a big deal to Jen. So why was she so worried?

  “I’ll be okay. If not … you can tell my uncle who I left with.”

  Jen didn’t looked convinced, but she said no more.

  After stepping outside, Mya drew in a breath of fresh air. The atmosphere in the club had been heavy - full of stale tobacco and the scent of alcohol. She was almost glad for the chance to get out of there.

  Mya followed Trent across the large parking lot. He’d parked his Mustang at the very outer edge of the lot.

  “Do you think you parked far enough from the building?” Mya’s question was laced with sarcasm.

  They had finally reached his car. “Can’t let my baby get hurt if some drunk idiot decides to hit her when backing up,” he said, gently rubbing the car’s hood.

  “Hmm … you’re a car guy I take it.”

  “What is a car guy?”

  “You know … the type that would take their car to bed, if only it had the right parts,” Mya tried to hide a smile when she noticed the look of horror on his face.

  “You think?”

  “Yeah,” she replied, as she was getting into the front seat.

  “Well she’s a beauty all right, but not exactly my type,” he shot back.

  “So where are we going?” Mya asked after Trent had settled in his seat.

  “It’s a little out of the way … so don’t go getting all nervous on me.” His mouth tilted in a devilish smile.

  Mya’s eyes questioned him.

  Trent shrugged. “It’s a little place just outside of Window Rock.”

  Mya’s nerves were raw, but she was already in it now. “Let’s go then.”

  Trent was right. About ten miles outside of town, he turned off. Like most places on the reservation, the last of their trip would be on a dirt road, but this one didn’t seem to go too far before they came across a little shack like building. It was just out of sight of the main highway.

  Mya was on edge, and she now wished that she’d have thought to bring some kind of weapon with her. Although she wasn’t too far from the main road, it was doubtful anyone would hear her screams if he decided to attack her.

  Trent parked and turned the ignition off before looking over at her. “Don’t worry … I have no intention of attacking you.”

  There it was again! It was like Trent could read her mind. “What’s here that you have to show me?”

  “Come on. Let’s go inside,” he said, pulling a flashlight from the car’s middle console before getting out of the car.

  Mya hesitated, not sure if she should trust him enough to go into an abandoned building with him in the middle of nowhere.

  “I promise you … this is not something you’re going to want to miss,” he urged.

  Taking a deep breath, Mya got out of the car. “I hope this is good Metzger,” she complained.

  Trent switched on the flashlight and pointed it in her direction. “Oh it is. It’s going to totally blow your mind.” The excitement in his voice reminded her of a kid that was getting ready to spill the beans about someone’s secret.

  Mya followed him through the door. Once inside, the first thing she noticed was that a layer of gray dust covered everything. It was clear that no one had been in the place for years. In one corner of the room was a twin bed with a rusty metal frame. A wooden table and two chairs sat directly across from the bed. The chairs looked as if they would fall apart if you actually sat on them.

  The walls were made of plywood, without even the benefit of plaster. On the wall above the bed was a picture calendar depicting desert scenery. All that was left of the bed itself was an old mattress with most of its stuffing torn out. Mya assumed rodents had gotten to it. There was also a tattered - dirty quilt draped haphazardly to one side of the mattress.

  Mya was ready to walk back out the door. “I’m confused. What does this place have to do with your brother’s case?” she asked.

  “It has everything to do with it. Just like it has everything to do with you.” There was an enigmatic tone in his voice.

  “Okay … enough with the games,” Mya sighed. “Why don’t you just tell me why we’re here?”

  “This is where you were born,” he informed her.

  “You’re crazy. I was born in Santa Fe.”

  He shook his head, laughter dancing in his eyes. “No … that’s just what they told you. They all lied to you Mya. The people that you thought were your parents … everyone.”

  “What do you mean the people that I thought were my parents?” Mya asked, her voice fragile and shaking.

  “Joan Begay is not your mother. Back then … she was a social worker who lived in Gallup. She took you in, but she’s not your mother,” he explained.

  Mya’s face turned white. “Why would you say such things? What do you hope to gain by these ridiculous lies?” Her mouth was a thin line of fury.

  “It’s true,” he said, lifting his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “I’m sorry, but you need to know the truth. It’s your only chance of making it off this reservation alive.”

  Mya turned away. “Take me into town,” she commanded.

  “See.” Trent walked over to the calendar and pointed to a date that had been circled with red ink. “This is your birthday … isn’t it?”

  Mya turned back and stared blankly at the calendar. It was on the month of April, and the fifteen was circled, but she couldn’t make out the year. Stepping closer, she saw that it was a calendar for the year she was born.

  “You could have done this,” she accused. “It doesn’t prove anything.”

  Trent shook his head. “You owe it to your mother to accept the truth … and to yourself.”

  Forcing her panic back, Mya looked around the room. There were chains attached to the headboard. On the wall was a small snapshot of a middle-aged couple. The woman was a pretty red head with a kind smile. The man in the picture was average; he had brown hair and brown eyes. They were just average people that you might see walking down the street, but wouldn’t remember five minutes later.

  Leaning over the bed, Mya pulled the tack out of the wall that held the picture up. Turning the photo over, she saw only three words on the back. Mom and Dad.

  “Start from the beginning.” Mya still didn’t believe him, but something bad had happened here, that much she was sure of. The atmosphere in the room was so thick with despair that she could almost feel the emotion, as if it were her own.

  Trent pointed to the bed. “Your mother was chained to that bed through most of her pregnancy.”

  Mya held up her hand. “That’s not the beginning.”

  Trent gave her a crooked smile. “I was just a young kid at the time, so what I know is second hand.”

  She was struck with the odd feeling that he found the situation amusing. “Well tell me what you heard,” Mya pushed.

  “Do you know what the Sinapu are?” he asked, his smile widening.

  “I’ve heard of them. They’re a band that lives on the reservation … in seclusion.”

  Trent nodded. “They are not Navajo … actually they are not even human.”

  Mya frowned. “I know you have your problems with David Bray, but what are you trying to say … that they are skinwalkers.”

  Trent shook his head. “Not exactly. They are guardians … they protect the heart of the people. Every fifty years, four of them take their place as protectors of the heart. That’s David and his three friends. The time for them to take their place is coming soon.”

  “Okay … you lost me somewhere,” Mya sighed. “What does this have to do with anything?”

  “Well give me a minute to explain.” Trent scowled. “Everyone keeps peace with the guardians. I mean … they are not exactly the kind you want to piss off.”

  When Mya said nothing, he continued. “But there is a group
of skinwalkers that think they should have control of the heart, and they will do anything to get it.”

  Confused, Mya shook her head. “What is this heart? Why is it so important?”

  “Only the guardians know what the heart is or where it is, but it is important. Of course that’s another story. Whoever controls the heart, controls the people. Can you imagine what kind of power that would give you?” Trent placed a hand on her shoulder and gently turned her to face him. “With that kind of power … you would be like a god.”

  “These protectors … are they like gods?” she asked doubtfully.

  Trent shook his head. “No, they are protectors. They have never used the power that is right in their hands. Such a waste,” he said, shaking his head.

  “But what does all this have to do with this girl, or your brother’s murder?”

  “Her name was Lucy.” Trent continued as if she hadn’t spoke. “They needed a baby, and that’s why they brought her here.”

  Trent fell silent, his eyes straying to the wall behind her - staring at something that only he could see.

  “And?” Mya urged him to continue.

  He turned his attention back to her and smiled. “And that’s why you’re here. They needed a girl child with the power to witch a guardian, and not just any guardian priest, but their alpha. Without him the heart is vulnerable.”

  “And you are trying to tell me that this alpha is David Bray.” Mya was now smiling. Trent’s story reminded her of a campfire tale. “This all sounds more like some kind of fairytale. You know that, don’t you?”

  Trent’s laugh was dark and unsettling. “Why do you think David Bray can’t kill you like he should. You are the seductress sent to lead him astray. He knows this, but your power over him is too strong.”

  Mya frowned. “Okay! We need to back up. I really don’t know what you are trying to say, or what any of this has to do with our investigation. In fact, I don’t believe a word of it.”

  “They brought Lucy here so that the Tchin'dih could father a girl child with the power to bring the alpha to his knees. The Tchin'dih is what you might call … a demon.”

  Mya’s mouth twisted into a sarcastic smile. “You expect me to believe that I was fathered by a demon?”

  Trent lifted his brows. “It’s true Mya. Though I have to say, you have way more of Lucy in you that what they had hoped.”

  “So what happened to Lucy then?” Mya asked, deciding that it was probably best to go along with him for now.

  “The birth killed her, but it may comfort you to know that she prayed up to her very last breath. She was pleading with her savior to deliver you from evil.”

  “Where is she buried? I want to see some kind of proof that any of this is true at all.” Mya told him.

  Even if there was no truth to most of what he was saying, she did believe the part about Lucy dying. She could almost feel Lucy’s presence in the crumbling little shack. It was as if the terror and despair of what she’d experienced was so profound that it had been imbedded into the atmosphere.

  “That part I don’t know,” he confessed. “I would think they disposed of her body in a way that no one would ever find it.”

  “So you have nothing to collaborate this story … except for this shack?” Mya shook her head in disbelief. “If all of this is true, why would you even be telling me? I’ve heard that you are a skinwalker.”

  “Yes … I’ll bet you have.” He smiled. “But you see … they killed my brother, and now I’m going to bring them down. Besides … you are one hot little lady, and I kind of like you.”

  Ignoring his last comment, Mya asked, “Who is it that killed Ben?”

  “The skinwalkers of course. You see, Ben always did have a soft spot. He could never make himself do the things that one might consider bad. That’s why he never truly became.”

  “Explain please.” Mya was becoming inpatient. It seemed that she was only getting fragments of information - just pieces of a puzzle, and she was in no mood to try and piece it together herself.

  “To become, a Tchin'dih must enter your soul. It is when you are at your most powerful. Some skinwalkers are so entwined with their Tchin'dih that they become that spirit, or demon.”

  “So they killed Ben because he couldn’t do this?” Mya asked.

  “No … they killed him because when he found out that you were coming back, he was going to warn you. The same with Jay Walker … the guy they found on the highway. He wasn’t a skinwalker like your uncle thinks. He was a holy man that knew what was about to go down. Walker was going to warn you to leave … he was going to tell you.”

  Mya eyed him skeptically. “Well you have told me. Why haven’t they killed you?”

  “They will try.” He shrugged. “But I figured my best defense against them was to bring the truth out into the open.”

  Before she could ask anything more, they were interrupted by the sound of a vicious growling outside the door.

  Trent put a finger to his lips. Leaning down, he lifted his pant leg and pulled out a gun that he’d had strapped to his leg. Mya stared at him, her eyes wide with alarm. This whole time he’d been packing a gun and could have easily killed her.

  He motioned for her to get behind him, but before she could move, a thunderous blast rocked the shack. She barely had time to shield her face from flying wood before the door exploded.

  Mya froze. Terror crawled through her like billions of tiny worms eating away at her flesh. She suddenly realized that she wasn’t breathing and had to will herself to draw in life sustaining oxygen.

  The wolf’s eyes burned with fury as it advanced on them. Snarling, it crouched low to the ground - ready to spring. It was huge; probably the biggest wolf she’d ever seen.

  Trent leveled his eyes on the animal, betraying none of the fear she was sure he must have been feeling. Lifting the gun, he took aim. “Don’t make me kill you!”

  Mya’s eyes darted from the animal to Trent. “Are you crazy?” she asked, unable to believe that he was wasting time talking to the wolf.

  At that moment the wolf leaped at him. Trent pulled the trigger and the sound of gunfire shook the tiny shack. It happened too fast to see, but she heard a loud yelp before the animal hit the floor.

  Trent grabbed her arm, practically dragging her out the door behind him. “Get in the car!” he yelled.

  Mya glanced over her shoulder. The wolf was not coming after them. “I think it’s dead.”

  “Maybe … maybe not, but you can bet that the rest of the pack isn’t too far behind. Let’s get out of here.”

  Mya didn’t have to be told twice. The last thing she wanted was to come face to face with an entire pack of wolves.

  Chapter Twelve

  Trent brought the car to a stop some distance from Donny’s trailer. Mya was relieved to see that his lights were on. At least she wouldn’t have to wait until tomorrow to talk to him. She was still convinced that Trent’s story was too wild to be true, but she wanted to hear it from Donny. If he told her it was ridiculous, she could brush it off.

  Though there were no lights on in her trailer, her car was there so she wouldn’t have to spend the night worrying about Jen making it back.

  Mya started to open the door, but stopped and looked back at Trent. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Go for it.” He smiled.

  “Why did you talk to the wolf? I mean … I know that your beliefs about animals are a lot different than white folks, but still.”

  Trent’s smile faded. “That’s a story you’re not ready to hear yet.”

  Mya’s brows came together. “I can’t see where it could be any more bizarre than what you’ve already told me.”

  There were dark overtones to Trent’s laughter. “Oh you might be surprised, but it doesn’t matter. I promise you … this is one story you are not ready to hear.”

  “But …”

  Trent interrupted her. “Right now you are blowing off everything I’ve told you … so it
’s no big deal, but the rest of it … well it’s going to hurt. But you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “You’re keeping secrets again,” she accused.

  Trent shook his head. “Another time maybe. Hell, maybe I won’t even have to tell you. Maybe someone else will, or you’ll figure it out on your own.”

  “Fine!” Mya opened the door and got out, but before closing it, she leaned down and told him, “I know what you’re hinting at. You think that wolf was a skinwalker.”

  He smiled and shook his head. “Nope, it wasn’t a skinwalker.”

  Scowling at him, Mya backed up and shut the door. She walked directly toward Donny’s trailer, not bothering to look back when she heard Trent drive away. It seemed everything she’d encountered since coming to the reservation was just too weird. Mya hoped Donny would provide her with some kind of logical explanation. She was so ready to be done with all the chaos and get back to something close to normal. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was now stepping onto the beginning of a very long and bizarre road.

  Mya knocked and waited for Donny to open the door.

  “Who is it,” he called from inside.

  “It’s me … Mya.”

  When he opened the door, Mya couldn’t help but crack a smile at the image that greeted her. Donny stood there in old cut off jeans and a plain white T-shirt. In his hand was a big bag of potato chips. He was always chastising her for eating junk food. Now she’d caught him not practicing what he preached.