Stallions

by Jade Carr

  The two—she kept thinking of them as stallions—hadn't acknowledged her. She didn't dare study them long enough to try to guess what they were thinking.

  She'd had sex once with each of them and had dreamed of a ménage. Countless ménages.

  What a damn stupid fantasy that had been. Today was all about business. Once everything that needed to be said had been said, she'd return to her aunt and uncle's house, where she'd decide what to do with the rest of her life. Her safe and solitary life.

  "I'm not sure where to start," Yamka said. "Maybe by letting you know the Hopi have been aware of your existence for at least a couple of years. We didn't know how to deal with the business of you shifting. That took a while to wrap our minds around."

  "We understand," Hah-Tee said.

  "I imagine you do. My father came here yesterday. He's responsible for the horse kachina and book."

  Nokoni held up the handmade doll. "I don't know how to read."

  I'll teach you.

  "That's what I told my father, but he wanted you to have an idea of what could be ahead for you. The pictures—the book is for beginning readers—pretty much tell the story."

  Nokoni didn't immediately answer. "Tell him thank you for me."

  "I'm hoping you can do that by coming to his place, and mine."

  "You want—" Hah-Tee started. "Do you know what you're saying?"

  "Yamka nodded. "Yes, I do."

  The ensuing silence crawled over Terena until she had to fight the desire to scramble up the ladder and run away.

  "Tell them, Ahote."

  Ahote jerked upright. "You don't know about drugs, do you?" he asked the shifters. "About the hold they have on a person, how they change who you are?"

  "That happened to you?" Nokoni asked.

  "Yeah. Almost from the beginning, I wanted to quit. I tried to, damn it."

  He rubbed his arm, making her wonder if he was remembering needles going into it.

  "Finally, I did, but by then I'd done some things I deeply regret. Things I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to atone for."

  She'd heard his confession three days ago, but the story remained new. As Ahote detailed what had happened when he was working for a racing stable, she felt as if she was there with him. To feed his addiction, he'd started stealing. He began with saddles and bridles, but they hadn't brought in enough money. Increasingly desperate, he'd waited until he was certain no one was around and had unlocked the drug cabinet in the main barn. He'd taken everything from vitamins to antibiotics to cortisone.

  "I tried to be careful, so people wouldn't catch on that the drugs were missing. Then…"

  "Finish it," his father ordered.

  Ahote had been around race horses long enough to recognize the difference between a natural race and a chemically stimulated one. No one at the stable said anything when a horse cut impressive seconds from their normal speed. Whatever the horses were being injected with wasn't in the cabinet with the regular drugs. Finally Ahote had overheard a conversation between the stable owner's son and the lead trainer about some juice.

  "I was scared to death, afraid someone would see me crawling in the back window of the trailer where the trainer was staying. I didn't know what to look for or where, just that I figured they were using something that couldn't be detected."

  "You were going to use this drug?" Yamka asked.

  "No!" Ahote insisted. Then he shook his head. "After I found the vials behind some soda in the refrigerator, I figured I had to know something about it before I tried to sell it. It made me a little jumpy, that's all. I didn't take much."

  "Did you get caught?" Hah-Tee asked.

  "I only took a little then stopped because the street price wasn't worth the effort and risk, but it was too late."

  Neither shifter spoke as Ahote talked. He'd gone through detox and was staying clean, no longer working for the racing stable, when the trainer and owner's son confronted him. They said they had proof of what he'd done. Also, the druggies he'd sold the drugs to had agreed to testify against him.

  "I was clean and had a good job. All I wanted was to put all that behind me."

  "They were going to blackmail you," Yamka said.

  "It was either do what they told me to or go back to jail."

  She was proud of her cousin for finally coming clean. At the same time, she'd never understand or condone some of the decisions he'd made.

  The trainer and owner's son had heard about some lightning-fast young horses on the Hopi reservation. Because Ahote was Hopi, he could check out the rumors. If there was something to the stories, well, he would capture and train one. And if he didn't—

  "Red nearly killed me," Ahote said. "She fought—damn, she fought. I would have never gotten close enough to lasso her if it hadn't been so windy that day. She didn't hear me until it was too late."

  Nokoni started to stand. "If you hurt her—"

  "I didn't! I swear. I tranquilized her, so she wouldn't hurt herself when I put her into a trailer. I didn't try to ride her until I'd had her for a month. The first time she ran—I'd been waiting for that moment all my life."

  "Tell Nokoni and Hah-Tee why you didn't fight to keep Red," she said.

  Ahote stared at his father. "They threatened to harm my family." He wiped his eyes with his knuckle. "I did what I hoped would end the nightmare, but it didn't. They wanted another horse—a damn lot of them. I argued, I refused. But in the end, I agreed to come back, this time with Wood."

  "Because those bastards were making good on their threats," Uncle Shuman said. "That's what those phone calls we got were about."

  Wondering if Nokoni and Hah-Tee might be having trouble keeping up, she studied them. Maybe the day would come when seeing them wouldn't jump-start her system, but not today. The way their intense black eyes returned her stare had a great deal to do with her reaction—that and reliving their sexual encounters.

  Sexual encounters! What an inadequate way of describing something with the power to tear her apart.

  "So Wood being dead doesn't end it." Nokoni said.

  "What are you getting at?" Yamka asked.

  "That the herd is still in danger."

  Terena clenched her hands to stop herself from reaching for Nokoni. "Ahote told his story to the tribal police, and I added what I knew. From what we understand, Ahote isn't going to be charged with murder because he was trying to save my life and both of yours."

  Hah-Tee frowned. "The police didn't talk to us."

  "No," Uncle Shuman said. "They didn't."

  "Why not?"

  "We felt it was safer if you two were kept out of things. It's one thing for tribal police to know the story, quite another to pass that onto state officials."

  "What happens now?" Nokoni asked.

  Judging by his expression, he was frustrated with his limited understanding of the outside world. She admired him for wanting to learn as much as possible.

  To her surprise, Ahote supplied the answer. Things were still developing following several conversations he'd had with California law enforcement, but he had reason to believe justice might come to the men who'd been juicing racehorses.

  "I don't care what happens to me as long as those two and whoever they're working with are put behind bars. I'll testify to seeing race horses shot up with something that's out of their system soon after the race and thus undetectable."

  "You think, given your record, they'll listen to you?"

  Hearing Hah-Tee's question, she realized Nokoni wasn't the only shifter who was moving into the human world.

  "Yeah, I think they will. I have nothing to gain by telling them what I did. I'm not asking to cut a deal. Besides, a number of horses did perform better than they ever had. I'm supplying law enforcement with an explanation that means someone broke the law. Once certain people are behind bars, hopefully interest in the mustangs will end."

  "What about Red?"

  She studied Nokoni. He looked older and more tired than he had
moments ago.

  "I'm trying to find that out." Red's whereabouts and safety had been part of her conversations with Quana over the past few days. "Nokoni, Hah-Tee, I've learned some things you need—"

  "More?" Nokoni interrupted. "This isn't enough?"

  "He's right," Uncle Shuman said. "If I was in their place, I'd be overloaded. I think they need time to process what we told them."

  As far as she was concerned, what she needed to tell them was more important than Ahote's confession, but what if they couldn't handle it?

  She could wait, stall, end today with the hope that there might still be something between the three of them.

  "I agree." Yamka, his knees creaking, stood. "Nokoni, Hah-Tee, you're welcome at any of the Hopi villages. When you come—no, we'll get into that later."

  "Get into what?" Nokoni demanded. He and Hah-Tee stood.

  "Your future."

  "Future? We don't understand today."

  Someone say something! End this tension. But no one spoke, and when Ahote, her father, and Yamka started up the ladder, she followed them.

  Nokoni touched her back. "That's it? You have nothing else to say?"

  "You didn't want to hear me." Her back burned, and she couldn't bring herself to look at him.

  "There's more than words between us," Hah-Tee said. "At least there was."

  Was he taunting her? Maybe this was his way of mourning the loss of—of what? Damn it, she was on emotional overload. She'd go home and help her aunt with dinner. Ahote was staying there these days. Undoubtedly, he'd want to talk, but she'd tell him she wasn't up to that right now. Tomorrow, maybe.

  Same as with Nokoni and Hah-Tee.

  She took hold of the ladder but couldn't think how to lift her leg. It was so blessedly cool in here. Between that and the male energy radiating out from the shifters, no wonder she was torn.

  Don't lie to yourself.

  Thinking about facing her one-time lovers made her light-headed, but she did because otherwise she wouldn't be able to face herself. They stood side by side without the earlier tension. When she'd last seen them, every inch of their powerful bodies had been on display. Today, denim clung to their hips and hid what she still longed to touch.

  "You're right," she said. "There's been more than words between us, but right now, that's not what matters. I learned something you deserve to know."

  Nokoni jerked his head at the top of the kiva. "What about your companions?"

  "They've told you everything they wanted to."

  "Not everything."

  "No, not everything. If that's what you're hung up on—"

  Hah-Tee indicated Nokoni. "If he needs time before he takes on any more, I understand, but you're tense and anxious. I need to know why."

  Hah-Tee wasn't the immature man she'd thought he was. Maybe realizing he'd almost lost the only other shifter had done that to him.

  "What about it, Nokoni? Do you have what it takes to hear me out?" Can I get through it?

  Chapter 24

  The shifters were back on the bed they'd shared earlier while she'd claimed the other. The walls, or something, threatened to close in on her, and she didn't try to deny Nokoni and Hah-Tee's appeal. No matter how this turned out, at least she had these few precious minutes with them.

  When she'd told the others she wasn't ready to leave, her uncle had asked if she was certain she knew what she was doing. Her answer was simple. She had no choice. She understood his concern. After all, he knew what she intended to say as did Ahote and Yamka.

  "Do you remember," she began, "that I phoned someone else not long after the shooting?"

  Their expressions told her this was the last thing they expected to hear. Maybe she could have done a better job of easing into the subject.

  "Quana is a Comanche, a friend who lives in California and works with horses. I'd initially called him after I first met you."

  "Why?"

  She couldn't read Nokoni's expression. Hopefully he was keeping himself open to whatever she said. "You didn't know why you're who you are. I hoped he might have some answers."

  "You told an outsider about us?"

  Unlike with Nokoni, she had no trouble determining what was going on inside Hah-Tee. He believed she'd betrayed a confidence and maybe jeopardized their safety. "Not just any outsider, someone I trust. In response to my question, he said that, yes, your names are Comanche. Nokoni, your name means wanderer. Hah-Tee"—she took a hopefully calming breath—"yours translates as eagle."

  "Eagle," Hah-Tee muttered. "Like the symbols on our chests."

  "Yes. I should have shared that as soon as he told me, but other things got in the way."

  "Like our bodies' demands."

  It was much more complicated than that. Still, she nodded agreement with Nokoni's far from simple explanation. "I've never met anyone like the two of you. My reaction goes far beyond what you are physically." She had to take a deep breath and stop studying them before she could continue. "At the time, I was trying to make some career decisions. I thought I needed a break from human emotions, but I was wrong. Meeting you two, interacting with you, reminded me that I'm part of the world."

  She was saying too much, muddying things with her own emotions.

  Determined to get things back on track, she folded her legs, placed her elbows on her thighs. and rested her chin in her palms.

  "What you do with the information Quana gave me is up to you, but I don't believe you're going to reject it because—" Against her better judgment, she looked at each of them in turn. Just like that, sexual hunger returned. "Because maybe it's the only explanation you'll ever have for what you are and why you exist."

  She paused. Their compelling gazes were locked on her. Despite her resolve not to go there, she imagined three naked bodies locked together on one of the mattresses.

  "Earlier, I'd asked Quana to tell me everything he could about the connection between you and the Comanche." She swallowed and went on. "He said he couldn't until he'd talked to the elders and been given permission."

  "You make it sound as if the whole tribe is involved in whatever this is." Nokoni's voice had become deeper and even more seductive.

  Focus. Make this about giving them what they deserve. "I'm sure some Comanche have no idea what's going on, but those who do…"

  "Don't stop now."

  "I'm sorry." She rubbed her forehead. "Unlike most Native American tribes, traditional Comanche behavior wasn't dictated by a belief in deities. As I understand it, they were individualists. As a result, historically there was a great deal of variety in what they believed about the world. In addition, everyone was secretive. They believed that whatever medicine or powers they might derive from a natural force would be dimmed or eliminated unless they kept things to themselves."

  She again paused. As before, they waited for her to continue, making her wonder if they were immune to her. If only she was immune to them—but did she want to be?

  "They saw the world as a place full of forces and powers, even spirits. If a warrior wanted strength and endurance, he studied the buffalo because they had those attributes."

  Nokoni nodded. "Horses are known for their speed."

  Grateful for his comprehension, she smiled. A little of the sexual tension that had her aching to touch them eased. "They prayed to eagles when they needed the strength and acute eyesight eagles are known for."

  Hah-Tee rubbed his chest. "Strength and keen eyesight are good things to have."

  "Yes, they are." She hadn't seen the shifters for over a week and had spent too much of that time remembering—so many things. "This is how Quana explained what happened several years ago, so I hope you—"

  "Several years?" Nokoni interrupted. "Before Hah-Tee and I came into being."

  "Yes. The Comanche don't have a reservation. Their headquarters is in Lawton, Oklahoma, where about half of the recognized tribal members live. Quana's grandparents have been there all their lives. The Comanche Nation organization does a lo
t to unite them. Several years ago, to celebrate seventy-five years of existence, the organization held an exposition."

  "Do we want to hear this?"

  Nokoni had every right to ask. "Only you can decide that, but if you walk away now, the questions about your existence might always be there."

  Looking trapped, Hah-Tee nodded. Maybe that would change if she embraced him, something she didn't dare do.

  "Quana's grandfather was one of the men who attended the exposition. I'm not sure how it started, maybe during one of the traditional ceremonies, but the attendees got to talking about what their parents and grandparents had told them about their elders' beliefs. The Comanche were once considered the plains' finest horsemen. These old men with their aches and pains wondered what their lives would have been like if they'd embraced certain horse attributes. If they'd concentrated on speed, self-reliance, and a strong survival instinct."

  Hah-Tee leaned forward. In contrast, Nokoni rocked back. His attention remained locked on her.

  "According to what Quana learned, the elders got together the night of a full moon. They talked about puha, which the Comanche once saw as a way of gaining medicine and tribal honor. Modern men held hands and prayed together, concentrating on horses."

  "Why not eagles?"

  "Because horses once meant survival for the tribe." She started to rub her thighs, only to stop. Just the same, sexual energy floated around her.

  "I don't understand what happened next, and if you two didn't exist, I might discount what Quana told me. The elders spent the night together. I'd give anything to have been there. The ceremony—I don't know what else to call it—went on until dawn. One member painted a picture of a Comanche war horse with an eagle outline on its chest."

  The shifters' contemplative expressions added to her belief that she'd made the right decision in passing on what she'd learned.

  "Quana took a picture of the painting and sent it to me. Do you want to see it?"

  Hah-Tee said yes while Nokoni just stared. Her hand trembling, she pulled the phone out of her pocket, located the telling shot, and handed the phone to Hah-Tee. He stared at it for several seconds before handing it to Nokoni.