“I understand. I’ve got an isolated cabin in mind. Their end will come as peacefully as possible. No sweat.”
“Fine. Then bring the map to—”
“There is one small loose end. Or I should say, there could be a loose end.”
“Your hesitation might be an extremely dangerous mistake for you.” The sentence was uttered in a threatening growl. The Dog cringed in response.
This was the tricky part, trying to lie to the Navajo Wolf in order to give himself an opportunity to hide the map. Originally, the Dog had been terrified at the very idea. But if it worked, he would have riches beyond imagining.
If it didn’t work, he would never have anything again.
On the other end of the phone, the Wolf clearly heard the lie in the Dog’s voice, and decided he’d better listen carefully. The Wolf was well aware that one of the most difficult things about heading up a cult of Skinwalkers was the treachery that grew among the greedy bastards. But their deceptions were minor and usually didn’t matter. Nothing mattered now that he had the map.
If the Dog dared lie about anything to do with the ancient map that would lead to the parchments, however, the cur’s throat would be cut within hours.
The Dog had been a good lieutenant, a decent right-hand man. But he might end up being too smart for his own good. Perhaps he should start counting the breaths of air remaining in his time on earth. The countdown to his end had already begun, regardless of the reasons for his lies.
“The woman we kidnapped with the child was not the baby’s mother,” the Dog told him, with great respect clearly ringing in his voice. “That mistake has now been avenged. The man most responsible for taking the wrong woman will never see daylight again. And his partner learned a good lesson. One he won’t soon forget as he works with a new man.”
“Who was she?” The Wolf had a feeling this conversation was going to cost him something.
“The daughter of a rich man. We missed an opportunity with that one.”
Dismissing the thought, the Wolf waited for the rest of the lies. “Money was never the point. The map is in our hands now, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, sure. But it gets worse. Seems the Brotherhood took an interest in our operation. They sent a man, a tracker I know well. But I never knew of his connection to them.”
“Who is this man?”
“He was a Navajo Tribal Police special investigator by the name of Hunter Long. But he and the woman are both now dead.”
The name seemed vaguely familiar to the Wolf. But it must have been a very distant link, for he couldn’t bring the memory to the forefront of his mind. Lately, the white powder he’d been using to turn into the Wolf seemed to be interfering more and more with his memory.
He’d been planning ahead for the desperate battle with the ancient sickness he knew inevitably came to Skinwalkers. Hoping to find a way around the illness before the old, painful death overcame them all, the Wolf had become convinced the parchments would provide the answer. And the map would tell them where to find the parchments.
For now, the effort to remember the tribal policeman’s image left him cold and nauseated. But this man could not be important in the larger scheme of things if he was already dead. The Wolf vowed to quickly forget the name and never try to think of it again.
“If you’re sure the policeman and the woman are dead, why are you mentioning them?” he grumbled with irritation. “Just bring me the map and do what you’re told.”
“There is some evidence that other Brotherhood members have entered the territory. Perhaps looking for the baby. Perhaps to look for their dead comrade.”
“That was not part of our plan. You are failing, Dog.” The Wolf grew more and more annoyed. “Do not bother me with these details. Just get into one of the helicopters and meet me with the map as you agreed. Stop talking about changes in the plan on an unsecure phone line.”
“Oh, no one will know about all this except you and me. But I need a little time. Before I can meet with you, I have to be sure I’m not being followed by the Brotherhood. In fact, this might be a terrific opportunity to kill off a few more of those secretive do-gooders.”
“I want that map. Avoid the Brotherhood and bring it to me.”
“Just a few hours,” the Dog pleaded. “I must be sure the Brotherhood doesn’t catch us while we’re stashing the baby.”
“Don’t you have anyone you can trust to take care of the baby? I insist you do as I say. You can’t let that map out of your sight. Surely any soldier could deal with a kid and an old lady?”
“It’s too dangerous.” The Dog continued on with his argument. “The map might be lost if I’m ambushed.”
“What did you say?” The Wolf’s mind was reeling. He couldn’t keep up with the Dog’s fast talking as long as his head pounded this way. How could it be so hard to think?
“Twelve more hours. That’s all I ask,” the Dog said hurriedly. “Give me the time and soon enough you will be holding the map in your hands.”
Holding the map in your hands. That was all the Wolf needed to hear. He quickly agreed to the request, hung up the phone and went to fix himself another batch of the powder.
The Dog was a dead man walking. Let him bring the map. After that, his usefulness would be over.
Hunter could feel the cool draft of air on his face, but the tiny black hole in the cleft Lucas was pointing out seemed too tight for either of them to get through. He was having trouble concentrating on their goal. All he seemed able to think about was Bailey, and whether or not she was safe with Michael.
“The woman is safe enough, cousin,” Lucas whispered.
Hunter hadn’t said a word, but his cousin had known his thoughts. Bailey was right when she’d said he was a little strange.
“We’ll have to break through the rock around the hole to widen the opening,” Lucas told him. “But the shale has thinned here from a million years of dripping rainwater. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“Do you think they’ll hear us breaking in?”
Lucas shook his head. “Keep trying to find your balance. The harmony in your spirit will allow you to remain silent.”
Hunter bit back a sarcastic remark he didn’t want to say. He knew damn well he was in need of a curing ceremony to restore his balance. But it was unlikely, even after he regained the full harmony that would come from a sing, that he could be quiet enough. These were Skinwalkers they were dealing with.
Lucas put a hand on his chest in order to slow him down. “Listen to my words and to my voice. It is your anger that keeps you from finding balance, not the woman.”
Well, that was just nonsense. He respected Lucas, but his cousin was suddenly spouting idiotic statements with no reason.
Hunter knew he kept old anger inside him like a boyhood friend. But he’d done that ever since he could remember. This new, stronger loss of harmony he was feeling had to be coming from conflicted feelings about Bailey. She must be the one who was making his emotions spin and his world tilt.
He regretted the eight years they’d wasted. The years when he could’ve helped her find her balance, and perhaps found his own, too. Instead, he’d struggled through his angry life and allowed her to make all the wrong turns. He’d been an ass.
And now it was far too late for any of that. She’d already found her way to harmony. All she needed was a little shove from her Navajo side to let her see it. It was too late for him to help her—or himself.
Once they were out of danger and she had been through a ceremony, she would go back to her family and her life as a changed woman. Hunter could see she had been coming to an understanding of who she was. With a ceremony to put her spirit back into balance, she truly would be cured of her addictive demons, and in harmony with her spirit.
She wouldn’t need him for anything anymore.
“Force your mind to clear,” Lucas demanded quietly. “Right now, you must stay in the moment. Later we will talk about demons. Yours and hers.”
>
“Mine?”
“I have seen your father in a dream. I have seen him as the Navajo Wolf.”
“That’s impossible. My father has been dead for years.” But Hunter had dreamed the same thing. Many times.
“Keep your spirit still for now and concentrate. Later, when the child is safe, we will talk about dreams.”
Hunter turned and kicked at the rock around the narrow opening. As the limestone and shale began to break away, he smelled more cool air—a breeze that must be coming from a large underground space. This had to be the way in they’d searched for.
As soon as the opening was wide enough for a man to squeeze through, the cousins scrambled downward into the darkness. Lucas flicked a small flashlight’s beam around the area where they stood.
Hunter discovered they were standing in a steep shale tunnel that headed down into an ever-widening cave. Michael had talked to him once about how many centuries’ worth of erosion it took to make one of these huge underground spaces. Cavern formation made for a fascinating study.
But right now Hunter was more interested in the flow of air past his body. If they followed the currents, they would find another entrance to this cavity, he was positive. Air didn’t simply flow from nowhere. Likely a cave opening onto the San Juan river would be the source. And somewhere en route was where the baby was being held.
Lucas bent his head and began silently shuffling down the dark corridor, periodically flipping the flashlight beam above and below. Hunter followed on his heels.
They moved that way for what seemed like a long time. Every once in a while one of them would slip on loose rocks, but be saved from falling by the other one. They worked well together, and in total silence.
As the path finally began to flatten out, Hunter heard the unmistakable sound of a baby. Not crying, but talking and laughing in that garbled way of a toddler.
Those might just be the best sounds he had ever heard.
The closer they came to the source of the sounds, the slower the two cousins moved. Soon, light spreading through the cavern made the flashlight unnecessary. When they heard the old grandmother making gentle sounds of her own, each man took a deep breath.
So far the child was alive and well. Now if they could just manage to take her without sounding an alarm to the henchmen guarding her, who must be somewhere nearby…
The cousins came to the edge of the lighted chamber and soon realized it was a side cave that had been turned into an actual room. The old woman had her back to them as she changed the little girl’s diaper. Beyond the two females was a narrow walkway that must lead out to the main cavern. That would undoubtedly be where the guards were stationed.
What to do about the grandmother? And would the child create a fuss and draw the guards?
Lucas turned to Hunter and gave a shake of his head. Placing a finger to his lips, he smiled and indicated Hunter should stay where he was.
It took only a few steps to reach the old woman. Lucas flowed like a shadow, making no sound. In a flashy move, he drew a knife with one hand and placed the palm of the other across the woman’s mouth.
“I know you’ve wished for an escape, Grandmother,” he whispered into her ear in Navajo. “We’re from the Brotherhood and have come to free you.”
The old lady never jerked or whimpered. She simply nodded her head to indicate she understood.
“Bring the child,” Lucas said as he dropped his hand from her mouth. He turned his back to her, but continued to hold his knife, facing the doorway outside.
The woman picked up the baby in silence. She folded her into a large shawl and then fastened the ends around her neck. Next she picked up a dozen baby-related items and shoved them into her wide, deep pockets. The old grandmother was obviously a practical and savvy woman.
When she was done, she turned to face Hunter. He inched backward into the dark shaft behind him. They would have to leave the same way they’d come. But could the old lady make it carrying the baby?
Lucas turned to him and nodded, as though he’d read his thoughts again. He came toward them, crossing the chamber with silent steps.
“You lead, cousin,” he told Hunter when he got close, and handed him the flashlight. “Go now.”
Hunter knew better than to argue. They had a very short window of opportunity to get away.
As they moved up the slippery, slanting path in near darkness, he began a sacred chant under his breath that would help keep them safe. But whenever he let his mind wander, the fear of being apprehended before they reached daylight wriggled into his consciousness and made him falter.
On one of those slips, he heard Lucas murmur, “Concentrate on the chants. Keep moving.”
With some kind of womanly magic, the old grandmother kept her balance and also kept the baby quiet. Only once did the child make so much as a gurgling sound during the climb.
The absolute worst moments, though, were when Hunter’s mind turned to Bailey. Then the darkness seemed to close in on him. Had the Skinwalkers found her by now? What would happen to her?
But he let his anger at the Skinwalkers help him fight off those thoughts. He’d found a way to keep moving by imagining an end to their terrible scourge. Up he went. Climbing closer and closer to freedom and safety.
Closer to everything that now mattered the most.
10
“O h, thank heaven!” Bailey squealed when she saw Hunter’s profile framed in the coyote cave’s entrance.
Thrilled and trembling, she couldn’t make her feet move at all as Hunter, Lucas and an old woman carrying Tara all ducked into the shadowy cave.
Finally.
When her mind and body got themselves in sync, Bailey propelled herself toward the weary group. But it wasn’t the baby girl she ran for.
Flinging herself into Hunter’s arms, she began to hyperventilate. “You’re here! You’ve rescued the baby! You—you…” She was out of words and out of breath.
Hunter held her close. As he did, a bolt of heat flashed between them, so strong she nearly backed away. She refused to give the sudden electricity much credence, though, the same way she refused to think of all the negative possibilities that might be in their future. Instead, she snuggled closer.
“It’s okay, slick.” Hunter gazed into her eyes as if she were the last drop of water on earth and he was dying of thirst. “We made it back without anyone following us. Lucas says he’s not sensing the Skinwalkers chasing us yet.”
Hunter rubbed a thumb under her eyes to wipe away the tears. “You and Michael didn’t have any trouble here, did you?” He was inspecting her as if he feared she was damaged in some hidden way.
Managing only a shake of her head, Bailey could barely think, let alone speak. She hadn’t realized how full of tension and fear she’d been until the sight of him had released it all.
“The baby seems okay so far,” Hunter told her softly. “The old Navajo the Skinwalkers hired is a good woman. She’s taken excellent care of the child and says Tara is fine.”
Bailey stood on tiptoe to look around Hunter’s shoulder at the two. The woman was removing the baby from a big shawl that had been tied around her neck. The child looked terrific.
“Tara’s really all right?” she asked Hunter. “The Skinwalkers didn’t hurt her?”
“Go see for yourself. She’s really okay. That Navajo grandmother seems more than capable of caring for her.”
“Um…you’re sure the old lady isn’t one of them?”
“Positive,” he declared with a wry smile. “Lucas read her thoughts when we took them from the cavern. The grandmother had apparently overheard the evil ones planning to kill both of them. And she was smart enough to realize her only hope of keeping herself and Tara alive was with the Brotherhood.”
Hunter loosened his grip on Bailey’s waist, stepped back and nodded toward the baby. “Go on. It’s okay.”
Trying to keep from dashing forward in excitement, she instead tiptoed quietly.
Tara tr
uly looked wonderful. Well-fed and happy. The Navajo grandmother had been a great caretaker, obviously much better than Bailey and her amateur attempts.
The woman was apparently a traditionalist. Bailey recognized that from her own grandmother’s lessons. Like all other well-trained Dine, the elder kept her eyes averted and did not look directly at Bailey. She said something in Navajo, and then held Tara out to her.
Hunter replied to the old lady, and then came up behind Bailey. “She asked if you are the one who saved this child during the forced trek across the desert,” he whispered. “I told her you were.”
“Saved? Me?” Bailey was trembling as she took Tara into her arms. “Tell her I only did what anyone would’ve. I’m no hero.”
Tara opened her sleepy eyes and looked up at Bailey. The little girl babbled a few baby words and held her chubby arms out to the very woman who’d just claimed to be no hero.
Bailey’s knees grew weak. She felt a steadying hand on her shoulder, and knew Hunter was right behind her and ready to hold her upright if necessary.
It wasn’t. The warmth of his touch gave her back her old determination. Her strength returned in a rush.
“Do I have time to play with the baby for a while?” Hugging Tara to her chest, Bailey turned and carried her toward the piñon needle bed.
“Yes,” Hunter told her. “We all need some rest, and should be safely hidden here for an hour or so. Then Michael will take you and Tara and the old woman back to civilization. Lucas and I will protect your backs and create diversions in another direction if necessary.”
Bailey plopped down with Tara and stared up at him. She opened her mouth to argue. There was no way she’d be leaving the desert without Hunter. He could just forget that idea.
The man was so special, so real and honest and good. And yet he didn’t seem to see any of that about himself. She simply could not walk away from him, not knowing whether he would still be alive for tomorrow’s sunrise.
His face became a mask of steel. He clearly expected her to throw a fit over leaving with the others, and seemed sure she would try getting her own way. So she didn’t try.
Books by Linda Conrad Page 67