The house is quiet, but not dark. Lights shine in the living room and kitchen. Shadowy figures pass in front of drapes pulled across front windows. Odd since there are no neighbors to see inside.
Finally, the lights are extinguished and I settle back on the seat. I expect George and his wife are retiring for the night.
The sound of the front door jerks me back to attention. George and his wife stand quietly on the porch. They glance around furtively, as if assuring themselves that they are alone.
Then they walk quickly down the steps, sticking to the shadows, and head for the back.
I follow. Vampire is in her element at night. I am a shadow among shadows in the light of a crescent moon.
I’m at the back of the shed just as they approach the front. They are speaking in Navajo. The wife must have said something about thinking she saw the door open this afternoon because George is examining the lock.
He finds nothing because there is nothing to find. His response to her is condescending and sharp in tone.
That changes when they have been inside for only a moment. They had to have noticed the missing charm. Both voices escalate in anger and accusation. Questions are thrown back and forth, reproachful replies flung like stones. I’d give anything this minute to understand Navajo.
It grows quiet.
George leaves, comes back with a red plastic can. A gas can. The sharp smell of gasoline being splashed on surfaces wrinkles my nose.
He and his wife back out of the shed; he’s still dribbling gas in his path. Then the scratch of a match, a flare of light, and the shed goes up in a great whoosh and burst that turns night into day.
CHAPTER 43
No
I need to do something—to save something from the shed to prove that George was a skinwalker. If only they would move away, but they stand watching.
I grab my cell phone. Call Frey. Whisper to send Kayani and the fire department.
Does the Navajo Nation have a fire department?
I guess I’ll find out.
I need a distraction. I can pull out some boards in back but I can’t do it quietly.
A siren. Good.
Kayani only five miles away must be screeching toward us. George and his wife exchange astonished glances. Not hard to read their expressions. How could anyone get here so quickly?
George runs back to the car with the gas can. His wife stares at the shed as if willing it to burn faster. I don’t wait any longer. I remember where the blowgun hung from the wall. I find the place, rip out the boards with my hands and fingernails. A section comes away. The blowgun still hangs from its nail. I snatch it and the bone charms in their pottery jar. The one that held ash has already burst from the heat.
I glance up to find George’s wife staring at me. She raises a hand and waves some kind of feather stick at me, shrieking.
But vampire has already taken over. To the woman, I become a blur, too fast for her to follow, even with her eyes.
Her shriek continues to follow me. It hangs in the air until it’s cut off abruptly. I watch from the Jeep. Kayani has arrived at the house. He grabs a garden hose but the hole I tore in the side of the shed has only accelerated the burning. The meager trickle of water from the hose does nothing. Finally, he drops it on the ground and the three stand helplessly as the shed burns to the ground.
Only the eyes of George’s wife are not on the shed. They scan the dark, try to penetrate the shadows. She searches for me.
MY CELL PHONE TRILLS. I SNATCH IT OUT OF MY pocket.
“Gus.” It’s Kayani. “Cancel the fire call. It was a shed on George Long Whiskers’s property. It’s gone. No need to waste water. Send everyone home.”
He clicks off. I watch as he leads George and his wife into the house. Lights go on, and I take the hint. I start the Jeep and head back to Frey’s.
IT’S TWO HOURS BEFORE KAYANI REJOINS US AT Frey’s. His first words to me are, “Please tell me you got something out of the shed.”
We’re on the porch. I reach to the floor and pick up the blowgun and pottery jar.
His shoulders drop with relief. He picks up the blowgun gingerly by the end and uses a plastic evidence bag he took from a jacket pocket to handle the jar. “I’ll lock these in the car.”
We wait for him to rejoin us. He lifts his nose. “Is that coffee I smell?”
Frey and I both lift mugs. “John-John and I had time on our hands this afternoon,” Frey says, his tone as pointed as a jabbing finger. “We went shopping at the trading post. There’s a pot on the stove.”
Kayani wastes no time helping himself.
Frey waits for him to lean his butt against the railing and take an appreciative pull before jumping in. “What now?”
I shake my head. “I wish I could say I got away with the blowgun clean, but George’s wife saw me. She shrieked like a banshee and waved some feather thing at me.”
Kayani puts his mug down on the rail. “She did?”
“Does that mean something?”
Excitement lights his eyes. “It means she’s probably a witch, an ’ánt’įį ̨ihnii. She may be the one who initiated George into the witchery way. It is thought only childless women become witches, and she is childless.”
“Is she powerful?”
“Together they could be formidable.”
Frey stirs impatiently, “So where does that leave us?”
“If she describes Anna to George and he connects you to Frey and John-John—”
“Which I’m sure she will. George knows I’m a v—”
I catch myself. Kayani frowns. “You’re a what?”
I look over at Frey. He gives me an “it’s your decision” raise of the eyebrows.
I lean back in the porch chair, putting a little more distance between Kayani and myself. “I’m a vampire.”
Kayani snickers the kind of snicker that usually precedes, “You’re kidding, right?”
But the seriousness in my face stops him. That and the fact that Frey has not challenged the claim.
I see the doubt and suspicion build in his eyes. Trust and comradeship evaporate. He glares at Frey. “You knew she was a vampire? You brought her to your son’s home?”
An echo of Sarah’s condemnation. Frey replies in the same heated way with many of the same words. I tune it out. Kayani will have to come to his own conclusions. I rise abruptly, “I’ll be inside when you decide what to do.”
I pour myself another cup of coffee, glance at the clock. It’s almost dawn. Frey has only given us twenty-four hours to solve the smuggling problem and we are not any closer to a solution than we were twelve hours ago.
Maybe going to George and letting vampire convince him to come clean is the best plan after all. It would keep Kayani and Frey clear and John-John safe.
And if George isn’t involved in the counterfeiting, what then? He still has the deaths of Sarah and Mary to answer for.
Kayani will just have to pursue the criminal investigation on his own.
Without George, who will most likely be dead.
CHAPTER 44
JOHN-JOHN’S SHRILL SCREAM MAKES THE MUG SLIP from my hand, but before it crashes to the floor, I’m in his room.
John-John is sitting up in bed, his eyes wide, his body trembling. I gather him into my arms, hug him close, rock him. Frey is beside me then, and I slip away to let him take over. He talks to his son in Navajo, soft crooning, words whose meaning come through even without the benefit of literal translation.
He is consoling his son, telling him he is all right, assuring him his father will never leave him.
Kayani has come into the room, too. He avoids my eyes, but something he picks up in John-John’s replies to his father makes him cross to the window. He parts the curtains and looks out.
I join him and whisper, “What is it?”
“John-John says he felt something watching him. A red eye. When he woke, it disappeared.”
“A nightmare?”
“Some le
gends speak of skinwalkers carrying red lights.”
“You think George was here? In John-John’s bedroom?”
Frey has picked up John-John, blankets wrapped tightly around his little frame. “I’m taking John-John in the kitchen for some warm milk.”
We watch until he’s out of sight. I’m shaking with outrage. “How could he get in without our seeing him?”
“He may not have.” His eyes are troubled. “What John-John saw might be part of a curse.”
“But we destroyed the charm, didn’t we?”
“One, at least.”
“There could have been more?” Each word fans the anger boiling in my blood until I think I will burst into flame. “I need to get to George and his wife. I can make them talk.”
“You or vampire?” Kayani’s words are sharp.
“Does it matter?” I snap back.
He surprises me by not rising to the bait. To the contrary, his tone softens. “Daniel has great faith in you,” he says simply. “Your kind are not known for their humanity, but I have seen nothing of an evil side to your nature. I have watched you with John-John. He would not respond to you if he sensed danger. You may be the best hope we have to rid ourselves of this curse.”
“Then I will go. Now.”
“We need to talk to Daniel first.”
“No. He will want to come with me. He is too angry. Do you know about Frey’s other form?”
Kayani nods. “Sarah told me. She was afraid John-John might have inherited his father’s curse. It terrified her.”
“It is not a curse. It is a gift to be managed and contained and can be used for good. Frey has helped me too many times to count.” I wave a hand toward John-John’s bed. “What people like George and his wife do, skinwalkers and witches who work black magic against innocents, they are a curse.”
“And still, you don’t want Daniel to go with you?”
“If it was a matter of stopping them from attacking John-John, I would send Frey by himself. He deserves revenge. But if George is also behind the counterfeiters, I am in a better position to extract information in a more—” I hesitate, choosing the word. “Restrained manner.”
A smile touches the corners of his mouth. “You must be careful. Of both George and his wife. We can’t be sure who is the most powerful.” He dips a hand into his pocket. “Do you want to take my car? A police vehicle may catch them off guard.”
“No. I can cover ground faster on my own.” I head for the window, slide it open. “Stay in here as long as you can. Frey will think we are still talking. Once he knows the truth, it will be hard to convince him not to follow.”
I climb out, stretch, call vampire. Kayani is saying something, but we’re already off, racing the wind, racing toward evil. His words fade like shadows before the approaching sunrise. Freedom, excitement and anticipation send the flush of bloodlust to warm cold limbs.
Vampire looks forward to this meeting. Vampire will show what it is to be feared.
CHAPTER 45
THEY ARE TALKING QUIETLY INSIDE, GEORGE AND his wife. I hear the words, but it is in a language unfamiliar to me. I wish they were vampire or shape-shifter so I could understand.
I crouch beneath a window, straighten to look up. They are in the kitchen and they have a wreath of something on the table that they are taking apart and reforming into smaller bundles.
My gut twists. Garlic. They are making talismans of it. They are expecting me.
I back away, watch, sniff. The odor comes only from here. They have not yet polluted the rest of the house with the one substance my system cannot abide.
I need to get them to come outside.
I find a rock. Hurl it through the front window. Then another. I slide under the porch and wait for the front door to open.
George’s feet clump above my head. His angry words frighten a flock of birds into screeching flight. He yells in English and Navajo, not sure if the rocks were thrown by tourists who have wandered far from the public lands, or neighborhood boys looking to make trouble. Before the echo of his words bounce off the mesa, I’ve punched through the wooden decking and grabbed his ankle. One good pull, and he is tumbling down the steps, a startled cry punctuating his fall.
His wife comes to the door to see what has happened. What she sees is vampire, holding her husband by the neck, teeth bared and yellow eyes flashing.
She runs back inside, comes out with one of those foul wreaths clutched to her chest. “Let him go, devil.” She shakes the garlic at me. “You cannot hurt us.”
My answer is to nuzzle George’s neck, my teeth gently biting. The sound of his blood rushing with fear under that thin, fragile layer of skin makes my own heart pound with excitement.
George smells of panic. He feels my teeth at his neck, he is afraid to pull away. He says something in Navajo to his wife.
She takes a step closer. “No. She cannot hurt us. We are more powerful.”
She needs to be convinced that vampire is serious. I worry at his neck, not deep enough to reach the source, just deep enough to cause blood to leak from a small wound. And to cause pain. While he squirms and squeals, I lick at his blood with glee, savoring the texture, the unfamiliar taste of his blood. It is delicious. I taste earth and sun and history stretching back through time.
I want more.
George’s screams interrupt my pleasure.
His wife looks at me with more respect now. “What do you want from us?”
It is difficult to pull vampire back, to let the human Anna come forth to ask the questions that must be asked. I relinquish my awareness reluctantly but not my hold on George.
“Why John-John?” I ask in a guttural voice.
George and his woman exchange looks. I take another nip, lap another trickle of blood before it stains his shirt. He cries out. “Tell her.”
The woman breathes out the words. “We had nothing against the child. We meant only to frighten him. Get his father to take him away. We were afraid Mary might have told him our secret.”
“Our secret? You two and Mary?”
She nods.
“What secret?”
“The artifacts.” The words at first come hesitantly, then more quickly as the woman spins her tale. “It was Mary’s idea. Make them. Sell them on the black market. She had connections in the city.”
Even hearing it, vampire has trouble grasping that Mary would conceive of such an idea. “Why would she do it?”
The woman looks surprised I’d ask such a question. “For the money. Mary wanted money to get off the reservation. She had no intention of coming back after college the way her sister had.”
“Then why kill her?”
George finds his voice. “We didn’t plan to kill her. She found out what was to be discussed at the council meeting. She was afraid we would betray her, so she decided to betray us first. She had a meeting with the two men who were helping us. She didn’t know I was joining them. When I appeared, she acted like everything was fine. But I could tell. She was hiding something.”
George’s wife tosses the wreath of garlic behind her. A show of good faith, I suppose. Vampire is still leery. “When we found out that an investigation was about to be launched, we went to speak again to the men working with us. They told us they already knew. That Mary said we should stop until things quieted down. But we could tell they were holding back.”
She pauses, her expression tells me she’s gauging what she should say next. “We persuaded them to tell us the rest. Mary planned to turn George and I in as the smugglers. If we didn’t agree to take the blame, she’d reveal that we were skinwalkers. She had proof for both, the rock from the cave and some of our charms. After a time, she could start the operation up again, sell only overseas. Safer that way.”
“And where are the men who told you this?”
Another pause. “Gone.”
I’ll bet. Dead, more likely.
“How did you cause the accident?”
“I appeared as
bear,” George says. “I could see that Sarah and Mary were arguing. Sarah tried to stop in time, but she was going too fast. When the car rolled, they both were thrown into the road.” A sharp intake of breath. “You have to believe me. I didn’t mean to kill Mary. Only scare her into keeping quiet.”
I think of Mary. College student. Her whole life ahead of her. “Did Sarah know what Mary was doing?”
George shakes his head, carefully, aware that my teeth are still within tearing range. “No. Maybe. It could be what they were arguing about in the truck. Mary may have said something to make Sarah suspicious. Or Sarah might have found the cash Mary kept hidden in her room and made the connection on her own after she heard what the elders were to discuss. Sarah had respect for our ways.”
“Who shot me with the bone charm?” I ask the question, part of me dreading the answer.
“Mary.” George is quick to distance himself from the act. “She didn’t want a stranger hanging around. She knew you were vampire, knew it would make you so sick, Frey was likely to take you away.”
“So Mary was a skinwalker, too?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because I saw no one near when I was shot. She couldn’t have gotten away so quickly on foot or by car.”
“She would use the cave,” George said. “She knew them well.”
The cave. The one branch that came out close to the hogan. Mary would know it well.
I have only one more question. “Why did you lie to me about what was discussed at council?”
I address the question to George, but it is his wife who replies. “To get rid of you.” The woman holds out her hand in supplication. “We wanted you and Frey and John-John to leave us in peace. We have committed many wrongs, but we are ready to atone for them now.”
Vampire takes a firmer hold on George. “So,” my human voice says, “you are willing to come with me to Kayani. Tell him all you’ve told me.”
Crossroads Page 22