Nina didn’t believe it, but she nodded all the same. “If he’s as big as you say that he is, then it sounds like the hunters are the ones that should be worried.”
“This magic is not coming for the hunters, Little Deer,” Harold said. “It’s coming for you.”
She chuckled and kissed his forehead. “The magic is going to have a hard time finding me, unless it comes to the office and knocks on the door.” Nina glanced at her watch again. “I really have to go. I have a Rottweiler coming in at 1:00. I’ll see you later, okay?”
“I’ll be here.” Harold laughed, then started to cough violently as he waved her out of the room.
Nina rushed out before he could see the fresh tears forming in her eyes. Harold Twofeathers; healer, shaman, and all around best grandpa ever, had raised her when her mother decided that she cared more for alcohol than she did her only daughter. She’d died ten years ago in a drunk driving accident. The state troopers had said that she’d driven off the side of the mountain on her way back from Gatlinburg, Tennessee.
Her mother had never made it to Cherokee, North Carolina. Nina hadn’t cried when she’d learned the news. It was hard to cry over someone that you didn’t really know, but her grandfather had wept. Her mother was his daughter. His only daughter. That meant something to him. And now Nina finally understood as she faced her grandfather’s impending death. If only the stories about the Great Bear’s magical powers were true… She’d follow it anywhere, if it meant saving the only man that she’d ever loved.
* * * * *
Chapter Two
Phantom Warrior Riot spent the night in La Push, Washington, staying only long enough to admire the pounding waves and the Quileute Tribe’s totems. The community was welcoming, but too small for what he needed to accomplish. For that, he needed a much larger population, one full of females of various shapes, sizes, and colors. He made his way through Forks, a small town that seemed to be obsessed with something called ‘Twilight’, before continuing on to Olympic National Park.
Riot ran across a few black bears in the park, but nothing near the size that he was in his Other form. The bears had sensed danger and quickly scampered off. As a Phantom Warrior—an alien shape-shifter species— and a member of the Claw Clan, he was expected to find a mate. Women were few in number on his home planet of Zaron. Without the aid of women from Earth, his people would quickly become extinct.
Fortunately, the Phantom people had found a solution to their problem, when a lost group of Atlanteans returned to Zaron after having been stranded on Earth for hundreds and hundreds of years. The news of a planet full of compatible women had spread quickly. Soon warriors from the Tooth Clan, Wing Clan, Claw Clan, and Blood Clan were lining up to travel to Earth.
They’d banned together with the Zaronian Atlanteans, who also battled extinction due to intergalactic wars, to go on expeditions in search of viable mates. Like his Phantom brothers who’d gone before him, Riot had to do his part, which was why he found himself strolling into a bar in downtown Seattle near the wharf.
The moist sea air gave way to the warm press of too many bodies within the narrow room. The crowd parted, giving Riot plenty of space. Too much space. He smiled in the direction of a few females, but they shied away or pretended not to notice. He inhaled. Past the perfume, alcohol, sweat, and desperation, he could smell the fear. His smile faded. Riot sat down at the bar and ordered a beer. His shoulders hunched in an effort to make himself appear smaller, less intimidating.
At over six and a half feet tall, and pushing two hundred and eighty pounds of packed muscle, Riot wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. He received more than a few curious glances, but everyone, including the females he’d come here to make contact with, kept their distance.
A few women approached the far end of the bar to order drinks. Riot tried to talk to them, but the words came out like he was issuing orders to new warrior recruits. He’d never been good at chatting up females. What little experience he had, had been utterly unpleasant. He could still hear the Phantom woman’s cries of pain ringing in his ears from that fateful night. He’d been so excited by the opportunity of getting to couple that his beast had slipped its leash and nearly crushed the woman to death. Afterwards, Riot had been too embarrassed and horrified by the incident to ever try again.
He eyed the human women around him. They weren’t nearly as strong as the Phantom and Atlantean women on his planet. How would he ever be able to touch them without injuring them? His insecurity must’ve showed because the women who’d been standing at the bar grabbed their drinks and disappeared into the crowd quickly, barely giving him a second glance.
Riot watched them go, a mixture of disappointment and relief coursing through him. He took a deep swallow of his beer and shook his head in disgust. You can’t find a mate by passively sitting here, he chided. He slowly scanned the room and vowed to try harder with the next woman. It didn’t take long for another to approach.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked as she bellied up to the bar.
The lovely redhead turned at the sound of his voice. Her gaze flicked to his, and her welcoming smile died on her face as she took in the scar on his cheek. Riot stood to move closer, so he didn’t have to shout. The woman’s eyes widened as she craned her neck to look at him, then she let out a scream that would’ve curled his hair had it not been so straight.
Flashbacks of the night he’d nearly crushed the woman rushed through his head. Riot stiffened. Afraid to move for fear it would scare her even more. She backed away, keeping a wary eye on him. Horrified and more than a little humiliated by the woman’s reaction, Riot threw money down onto the bar and quickly left.
He knew he wasn’t as appealing as his brethren. His face was handsome enough, if you could overlook the scars covering his cheek, arms, and hands. There was only so much a body could heal, when it was routinely shredded during battles. He glanced down at his hands and growled, curling them into fists.
Riot rushed out, only to find that it was raining. He let the cool wetness wash away his humiliation. He tilted his head up and closed his eyes, taking deep heaving breaths of sea air into his lungs. He could still picture the red-haired woman in his mind’s eye, screaming at the sight of him. What would she have done, if he’d been in his bear form? Dropped dead?
He shuddered at the thought. Riot gazed at the people as they strolled down the wet streets. He needed to leave this place, needed to leave this planet. But he’d only just arrived and knew his commander on the ship wouldn’t allow him back so soon. Riot had thought Washington State would be a good place to search given the history and the acceptance of the bears in the area, but he’d been wrong.
He pulled out a map and stared at the vast country before him. This search, his search, was useless. Riot knew that as sure as he knew his other half. Some warriors weren’t meant to find a mate. And he was convinced that he was one of them. He only needed to hang on a few more days and then would he be able to return to Zaron and live out his remaining years fighting the planet’s enemies. He growled in frustration and ripped the map up into tiny pieces, throwing it to the ground. When he was done, a small square section clung to his palm. Riot peeled the paper off and stared at it. What did he have to lose?
“The Great Smoky Mountains it is,” he said, then took out his communications device.
* * * * *
Riot exhaled and scanned the small sign at the base of the strange mountains that appeared to exhale smoke. Was there a fire? Gatlinburg, Tennessee stared back at him cheerfully, welcoming him to the town. Riot scowled. He was in no mood for cheer. It had taken the ship most of a day to reach him in Seattle.
Not that it mattered how many days or hours that he’d lost. Unlike most Phantoms and Atlanteans, he’d been granted ‘extra’ time to seek his elusive mate. The Commander had told him as much when the ship picked him up. He’d barely made it onto the deck, when the orders came down directly from King Eros.
Once more, Riot had tried
to argue that the ‘extra time’ was unjust to the others, but his words fell upon deaf ears. No way was he going to get out of this punishment. The King had spoken. He was to take a shuttle and return to Earth. He’d been instructed to stay for as long as it took.
The situation was made worse by the pity Riot had glimpsed in the Commander’s aqua-colored eyes as he relayed the King’s message. He still bristled when he thought about it. Riot didn’t want, nor did he need, more days to prove that he’d failed. Two days were quite enough. But he was a good warrior. He followed orders, even ones he did not agree with. And he most certainly didn’t agree with these. He’d stay the extra days or Goddess forbid—weeks, if only to return and tell them ‘I told you so’.
He stared at the small but bustling town, taking in its quaint shops and souvenir T-shirts. The air here smelled different. Somehow better. Sweeter. His shoulders relaxed as an older woman walked by and smiled at him. In her wake, a younger woman followed.
As soon as the female saw him, she rushed to the elderly woman’s side and hurried her along. He sighed and the tension he’d been holding returned in force. Despite its fragrant air and southern hospitality, this place would be like all the others.
Riot scanned the mountains as he strolled down the sidewalk. Several people crossed the road to avoid him. He pretended not to notice. He should be used to their response by now. He was used to it. He rubbed his chest, but it did little to alleviate the pain. “Just keep walking,” he muttered to himself, but his feet had other ideas.
Within seconds, he was sprinting down the sidewalk, past alarmed faces in an effort to reach the woods up ahead. The second he entered the lush green canopy of trees, Riot exhaled. Really exhaled. His muscles flexed, then slowly loosened. The moisture from the forest clung to his skin, leaving a light sheen behind.
The cloying heat from the asphalt gave way to refreshing coolness. He took another deep, hardy breath, feeling at home for the first time since landing on this blue-green rock. Tonight, he’d go to his ship, fly it deeper into the mountains and hide it in these peaceful woods.
* * * * *
Nina arrived at the veterinary office she shared with one other doctor. The receptionist, Sarah Mouse, who also doubled as her assistant, looked up and smiled. “How is Harold doing today?” she asked.
She gave Sarah a sad smile. “I think he’s worse, though he hides it well.”
Sarah’s smile faltered. “I’m sorry, Nina.”
“Yeah, me too.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Has Maggie Backwater phoned?”
Sarah looked at the notes in front of her. “No, not yet.”
“Is she still scheduled to come in with Humpty and Dumpty?” The dogs were due for their rabies shots. Nina flipped through the phone messages on Sarah’s desk to make sure there weren’t any emergencies that needed immediate attention.
“Yes, she should be here anytime now.” The phone rang and Sarah answered it. “Cherokee Pet Care Clinic.”
Nina left her to it, and went to check on the few patients that were already receiving treatment. There weren’t many. Liddy Whirlwind’s cat, Speckles looked much better today. Her eye infection was clearing up nicely. She should be able to go home tomorrow. Robert Hummingbird’s dog, Trixy had been brought in to be spayed. With three litters of puppies under her furry belt, it was about time. That left Ben, Max Dreadfulwater’s Chow-Labrador mix. He’d managed to get himself quilled by a porcupine. His wounds were healing nicely and Ben wasn’t in near the amount of pain he’d been in when Max dropped him off. Hopefully this had taught the dog a lesson like the skunk incident last year. If not, she’d be seeing him again soon.
Unless something changed, the recuperation kennel would be empty by the end of the week. Nina petted each animal and softly cooed to them. Most Cherokees didn’t have much use for a vet. If an animal got sick and couldn’t be healed by over-the-counter remedies, folks in the Qualla Boundary just shot them. In general, it was a pretty common occurrence in the south. It hurt Nina to think about it, but a lot of folks in the area didn’t have the money for such frivolous things as veterinary care. Not when the money was the difference between eating and not eating. The arrival of the casino helped, but it didn’t eliminate all of the poverty.
She walked back into the front office and dropped phone messages back onto Sarah’s desk. There was nothing there of any real importance. Not that she’d expected there to be. Work was slow. And quiet. The bell on the front door clanged in disagreement. Maggie Backwater struggled through the door with Humpty and Dumpty in tow. The two mastiffs had somehow managed to tangle their leashes and seemed to be determined to trip Maggie. Nina rushed forward to help.
“Come here, Humpty,” Nina took one of the leashes from Maggie’s hand.
“That’s Dumpty,” Maggie said.
“Of course.” Nina guided the giant dog toward the examining room. He yanked her arm, nearly pulling it from its socket when he caught sight of Speckles. The cat’s back arched and all the hair on her body rose as she hissed at the dog. Dumpty let out a loud woof. Humpty joined in, though he didn’t appear to know what he was supposed to be barking out.
“Hush!” Maggie said.
Both dogs ignored her and continued to bark.
Nina dragged Dumpty away from the cage and into the examining room. “Sit,” she said, waiting for Maggie to join her.
It didn’t take long to give the dogs their rabies shots. While they were there, Nina took the time to examine them. They both appeared to be in good health. She helped Maggie take them out of the office and load them into the back of her pickup truck. Soon they were driving away and Nina was back to waiting for her next patient.
An emergency call came in from Lulu Ball. Sarah took the message and handed it to Nina. “Lulu says that you need to come right away. Daisy is bleeding from her nose and she can’t tell what’s wrong.”
Nina walked back into her office and grabbed her ‘Vet House Call Bag’. “Call if there are any other problems. You know where I’ll be.”
Sarah nodded.
It only took twenty minutes for Nina to reach Lulu’s patch of ground. It wasn’t large, only a few acres, most of which was wooded. Lulu had managed to clear a little over an acre and cram a lot into the space. Nina turned off the ignition and climbed out of her truck. She honked the horn once.
“I’m back here!” Lulu called out from behind the house.
Nina grabbed her bag and walked around the house to the backyard. There were a couple of cows fenced in on the north side of the property. Lulu had set up a chicken hutch in the middle and flanked it with a pigpen on the right. A small garden brimming with pumpkins and squash took up the rest of the yard, giving way only to a short clothesline.
“Where is she?” Nina asked.
Lulu pointed to her right. “I don’t know what happened. She was fine yesterday.”
“Let me check her out. It might be nothing.” Nina walked over to the pigpen and gazed inside at the five piglets. Fresh blood covered one of their snouts. The rectangular pen stretched thirty feet and was ankle deep with mud. “I’m going to have to climb in there and catch her.”
“Figured you would. I tried, but she was too fast for me,” Lulu said.
Nina glanced at Lulu’s boots. There wasn’t a drop of mud on them. She arched a brow, but said nothing. Nina reached down and rolled up her pant legs, then grabbed a pair of gloves before stepping into the pen. Her boots sank down six inches. She took a step. Her boots made a sucking noise as mud and pig excrement covered her feet. She waded across the enclosure, slowly herding the pigs into a corner.
She let the first two piglets rush past her as she singled out Daisy. Nina reached for the piglet. She managed to get her hand on its back leg. Daisy let out an ear-piercing squeal, her little hooves spinning madly in the mud. Muck flew into Nina’s face, splattering her cheek as she lifted the piglet into her arms.
* * * * *
Riot heard a high-pitched screech, ec
hoing through the woods. The sound was loud, which meant it was coming from nearby. The squealing continued. What was it? And what was killing it?
Curious, he made his way through the woods toward the horrendous sound. A yard filled with livestock came into view. He stopped, keeping to the shadows. There were two women standing in the yard, discussing an object between them. One was wearing a long skirt with a flowery shirt. She was a big woman, hearty and full of health. The other smaller female wore jeans and boots. She appeared to be holding something pale and squirming in her arms. There was another loud squeal. The object in her arms tried to escape and the smaller woman turned to catch it before it dropped to the ground.
Riot’s breath seized, when he glimpsed the woman’s mud smudged face. Her features were delicate and lightly browned. She had full lips, long lashes, and high cheekbones. Her long, dark hair had been pulled back and tied at her nape. She smiled, flashing a row of slightly crooked teeth, as she caught the squirming creature.
“Get back here, Daisy.” She pulled the animal close once more and scratched it lovingly behind its ears. The squealing quieted and so did its struggles, giving her time to carefully examining its face.
Riot stared, mesmerized by her soft brown eyes and caring manner.
“Lulu, can you please hand me my bag?”
The woman wearing the skirt reached for something on the ground and handed it to her. “I’m going to give Daisy to you. Hold her close, so I can clean and disinfect her wound.”
She handed the pale pink creature over to the woman and reached into her bag. She pulled out cloth, wetted it with a clear liquid, then carefully dabbed at the animal’s nose. “It’s just a scratch,” she said. “Looks like one of the other pigs might’ve bit her.”
Phantom Warriors Volume 2 Page 15