Lone Wolf laughed, showing off the sharp canine teeth that had earned him his name. “You can study from morning until night and never be half the healer I am by the end of your long life. As for the way I speak, who is going to stop me? Your protector?” He indicated Grey Mother with a tilt of his head, the disappointment in his voice clear. “She is too occupied, wallowing in greed.”
The embarrassment Little Dove had swallowed made her reaction stronger than either of them anticipated. With a cry, she lunged at him. In spite of his size, she soon had her hands around his throat.
She began to squeeze.
“When you speak of our Elder, you will do so with respect,” she said, forcing each word from between clenched teeth. “Your sentiments are not welcome here.”
Lone Wolf pushed his arms through hers, easily breaking her hold. “You will do well to control your temper, Medicine Woman.” His tongue lingered on the title, instilling it with as much mocking as possible. “You are heading into dangerous territory from which you cannot turn back.”
Little Dove lifted her chin. “Leave us.”
“As you wish. When what I have foretold comes to pass, remember that when I offered my help, you cast me aside. Remember this day, little sister, for you will rue it.”
In response, Little Dove did the most insulting thing she could think of. She turned her back on him, imagining he was not there. She heard his sharp intake of breath, as if something had struck him.
Then, as swiftly and silently as he had appeared, he was gone.
Before she could consider the repercussions of the widening rift between them, a shriek drew her attention to the women once more. When Little Dove saw what was happening, her entire body shook with rage. Without thinking, she rushed into the fray.
“What are you doing? Stop it at once.”
A plump woman known as Quivering Birch continued to shriek, the short end of one of the blankets wound around her stubby fingers. At the other end was Red Sky Dancer, who appeared to be yanking on the cloth with all her strength. Each time the taller woman tugged, Quivering Birch stumbled forward – no mean feat, as Quivering Birch greatly outweighed Lone Wolf’s sister. Little Dove saw she’d misjudged the cloth’s strength. If it had been of doubtful quality, it would have been in two pieces by now.
“Did you hear me? Let go,” Little Dove said.
Quivering Birch’s forehead was beaded with sweat. “I cannot lessen my hold. If I do, this – this weasel will steal it.”
“I can’t steal something that was never yours,” Red Sky Dancer replied. Either she hadn’t heard the real insult, or she’d decided to ignore it. Before Little Dove could respond, the cunning woman leaned forward and spat at her opponent, hitting her in the face with foamy drool.
“Uck!” Quivering Birch dropped the blanket, swiping at her face, and Red Sky Dancer swirled the scarlet cloth around her like a cape.
“You see? It was made for me. You cannot pretend to think otherwise.”
Even though Little Dove would never admit such a thing out loud, she had to agree the cloth suited Red Sky Dancer far more than it would the unfortunate Quivering Birch. Against Red Sky’s golden skin and shining hair, the deep crimson was striking. It wasn’t only her attitude that caused the other sisters to loathe Red Sky Dancer. Her stunning beauty enraged them. She was the only one who hadn’t come to Little Dove for salves or poultices. Unless her brother had made an exception when it came to treating women, Red Sky Dancer was a natural beauty. Unfortunately, she was well aware of it.
“I am surprised your brother let you accept such a gift,” Little Dove said, doing her best to coat every word with disdain. “Considering he wants us to have nothing to do with the settlers.”
“My brother will tend to his own affairs while I attend to mine.” Red Sky Dancer settled the blanket around her shoulders, her head held high. Unlike the others, she kept her fox fur as well, earning Little Dove’s grudging respect.
As the woman left their circle, Quivering Birch collapsed to the ground, wailing into the dirt. Little Dove knelt beside her, alarmed. “What ails you, sister? Are you hurt?”
Quivering Birch shook her head, tears and mucus running down her cheeks. She struggled to speak, managing a few stuttered words before lapsing into sobs.
“She is upset there is nothing left, the poor child,” Grey Mother advised, clutching a blanket the color of a harvest-season sky.
“Nothing?” Little Dove peered at the ground, but her Elder had been speaking true. Only a few shreds of cloth from the packaging itself fluttered in the wind. The children leapt and danced, trying their best to catch them.
“Red Sky Dancer took the last one. Of course she got the most beautiful.”
Little Dove was not fooled by the outrage in Grey Mother’s voice. She knew full well the Elder was hiding things from her. Without so many witnesses, both the crimson robe and the blue would have mysteriously found their way to the older woman’s quarters.
Quivering Birch continued to sob into the grass. Pulling the furs from her own shoulders, Little Dove draped them over her sister. The woman sniffed, rubbing her eyes. She quit crying when she saw the quality of the furs that concealed her weather-beaten dress from view. It was Little Dove’s best red fox, more lovely than the crimson rags that had been stolen in plain sight. “You honor me, Medicine Woman,” Quivering Birch said, inclining her head. “It is with great sadness that I tell you I cannot accept it.”
“You must accept it. I have many furs.” The red fox was special, but Little Dove was determined Quivering Birch would have it. “If you feel a debt, use it to help others one day.”
With a shy smile, the woman stroked the fur. Slowly, hesitantly, she drew it closer around her shoulders. “It’s beautiful. And so soft.”
“It will keep you warmer than the one you were fighting over. I think in time, you will be happy you lost the battle.”
Little Dove had no idea just how true her words would be.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Even though I was blind, I knew I wasn’t alone.
I waited, trying to be patient, and sure enough, a large, dark shape wavered into view. Whoever or whatever it was, it was sitting on my bed.
“Good morning, Reese. How are you feeling?”
The voice, a smooth, deep rumble, was somehow familiar. I was positive I’d heard it before, but couldn’t place it.
“Better.” My lower back ached something fierce from lying around for hours, but my busted ribs made stretching a risky proposition. I did my best anyway, feeling some relief as my vertebrae popped. It took me a beat to realize something was very different.
It was this difference that made me remember where I’d heard that voice before. “You’re a cop, aren’t you? You’re Detective Greyeyes’ partner.”
“Detective Jorge Ruiz. I’d heard you’d regained some of your sight.” Now I picked up on the slight lilt in his voice, the faint accent that told me his first language was Spanish. “But I didn’t know it had returned that much. I’m glad for you.”
“It hasn’t. I just recognized your voice. And, well, there was this.” I raised my right arm, rotating my newly free hand on its wrist. Damn, but it felt good. “I’m sure you were just feeling sorry for me, but please don’t think I’m not grateful.”
“My feelings had nothing to do with it. Free men don’t wear handcuffs.”
Did he say what I think he said? Maybe my ears were going as well, but I decided to chance it. “Too bad I needed to get the shit beaten out of me before I proved my innocence.”
“Hey, the rest of us aren’t like that. Maria is tore up about what happened to you, and so am I. We’ve sent Archer packing. He’s not going to pull that shit again, at least not with a badge.”
Rage churned in my gut. “And you think this makes me happy? That guy is a fucking psychopath, and instead of p
unishing him, you let him loose on the streets to hurt more people.”
What if he ran into Crazyhorse? It was enough to give me chills.
“With luck, it won’t be for long. He’s being investigated, and once we have enough evidence, we’ll nail him for attempted murder.”
Prosper had told me Archer’s ridiculous version of events. He and his fellow goon claimed the beating they’d given me was in self-defense. Supposedly Crazyhorse and I had charged them when they’d tried to serve dinner. As if the combined one hundred and seventy pounds of us would be a threat against the two of them. Good Christ.
“I’ve been hit on the head recently, officer, so maybe that’s why I’m not following you. Shouldn’t he be in a cell instead of wandering around free?” Rotating my wrist again, I marveled at the blood flowing through my veins with no restrictions.
“Everything in good time. This isn’t the first time we’ve had a complaint against him, but he’s always managed to weasel out of it, or the complainants were too scared to press charges. We have hope that this time, it’ll stick,” the cop said. And then he said something else that made my testicles shrink to the size of raisins. “We found another body.”
“Anyone I know?” I tried my best to sound casual, but unless this cop had the observation powers of your average housefly, he’d hear how freaked out I was. Hell, he could probably see it.
Unlike his partner, Jorge didn’t mince words. “It’s Mrs. McGraw. Somebody tore her apart.”
Mrs. McGraw. It was a sucker punch to the heart. Picturing the smiling woman with the gentle brown eyes, I wanted to scream. I hadn’t known Dan’s mother well, but I’d liked her. Everyone did.
“What happened?”
“That’s what we’d like to know. We’ve got four people murdered – no, not just murdered – massacred, but I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that. Then two kids are rushed to the hospital screaming bloody murder, covered with blisters, and it turns out they have a disease that hasn’t existed for decades. And guess where they got it from? That blasted fucking campground.”
My head was spinning. Resting against my pillows, I rubbed my forehead, hoping I’d be able to get the words out before I lost consciousness. “Sorry, Detective, you lost me. What’s this about a disease?”
“The boys were fine this morning when they left the house, but they returned with a severe case of smallpox. The infectious disease guys are treating them, but we need to know if you experienced anything strange out there that night, anything at all.”
In spite of my wooziness, I wanted to laugh. A couple of days ago, the police had charged me with murder. One of their compadres had done his best to split open my skull. And now they wanted my help?
“You mean, besides the fact my girlfriend and two of our friends were ripped to shreds?”
Jorge sighed. The bed creaked as he stood. “I feel like the world’s biggest asshole asking you for help after what we did to you. But as of now, we have no other leads. Someone could be manufacturing biological weapons in the area, or God knows what else. Did you see or hear anything that seemed off? Was there anything that bothered you, anything strange?
“There was one thing.”
As I told him about hearing someone whisper You’re not welcome here when no one was there, goose bumps puckered the skin on my arms and I shivered, pulling the flimsy sheet higher on my chest. Fucking hospitals and their cheap-ass blankets.
When I finished, Jorge was quiet, too quiet. It bothered me, especially since I couldn’t see his face. Did he think I was crazy?
“Hey man, do you think you could ask the nurse for another blanket? I’m freezing.”
“Sure, Reese, no problem. Are you absolutely sure you didn’t see anyone other than your friends? Maybe whoever spoke to you took off before you turned around.”
“There’s no way anyone could have gotten away without me seeing them.” Those were the days. “Or hearing them, for that matter. That place is covered with leaves and twigs and other crap. It’s impossible to sneak up on anyone.”
I waited a minute for reassurance that never came. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t, and I don’t think this is a joke, either. Unless you’re a sociopath, you’re the last person who would fuck around with us. I assume you want whoever tortured your girlfriend to pay for what he did.”
Anger, guilt, despair, regret. So many emotions churned in me that for a moment I was afraid to speak. Clearing my throat, I said, “Of course I do.” My voice had grown hoarse, the croak of a dying frog.
The cool plastic of my water glass pressed into my hand. Drinking gratefully, I drained it before giving it back. “Thanks. Biological weapons – is that really what you think is happening out there?”
I’d already gone over everything I could remember about that night. My memory had scoured every rock and tree and found nothing. No trace of any nefarious experiments, and no sign of life other than us. Obviously someone had been there, but who?
“To be honest, we don’t know. But I can tell you one thing. I’m going to find out.”
“I still don’t understand what happened to Dan’s mom. Who found her?”
The man swallowed hard. I could hear the rasp of his breathing. Either the stress of the case had put strain on Jorge’s lungs, or the man was a couple of cheeseburgers away from a coronary. “We did. It was a nasty surprise for our team. For whatever reason, she decided to revisit the site of her son’s death last night, and it cost her.”
Remembering how Dan had begged me to come get him in that horrible nightmare, I wondered if his mother had experienced the same dream. What if my dad hadn’t stopped me from leaving that night? Would I have been torn apart too? But no, that didn’t make sense. Whoever the killer was, he’d had his chance to add me to the body count, and for some reason, he’d left me alive. Why spare my life one night, only to kill me a few days later?
“Where is Detective Greyeyes? I’d really like to talk to her.”
Why had she sent Jorge? I’d always spoken to her. Was she ashamed of how she’d treated me after I was arrested? She hadn’t struck me as a coward. I was disappointed she hadn’t come to apologize personally.
“That should be easy to arrange. She’s right down the hall. Once you’re up to it, you can go visit her. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”
“Visit her? What are you talking about?”
“She’s in a coma, and no one has a goddamn clue what’s wrong with her. She was healthy as a horse one minute, and the next, she collapsed. Doctor caught her right before she hit the floor. Seems that whatever’s infected that campground has gotten her too.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Death was near. She could smell its foul stink on the old woman’s breath, lingering over them.
Grey Mother’s lips were cracked and blistered, but she struggled to speak. “It is the prophecy, dear one. I have failed you.”
Little Dove’s eyes filled as she dabbed the medicine-soaked cloth against the woman’s forehead and cheeks. Though it was the most powerful poultice she knew how to make, it would have no effect. Still, she had to do something. Her days were long and contained nothing but tragedy.
“It is I who have failed you, Grey Mother. I was never meant to be a healer. If only I could take your affliction upon myself, you could save the others.” Her voice was muffled through the barrier tied over her nose and mouth. Early on, Grey Mother had discerned the nature of the sickness that plagued them, and had made Little Dove wear the barrier for her own protection. It had worked, which caused the young healer more sorrow, as she had been forced to watch her beloved sisters die.
The old woman’s hand, covered with both spots of wisdom and of the disease, trembled as it sought to find hers. “You are a wonderful healer. No one could save us from this. This is Lone Wolf’s curse.”
“You dare blame me for this?”
Both women gasped, Grey Mother’s sounding like a death rattle in her throat. Little Dove knew the dear woman did not have long. She turned to see Lone Wolf darkening the doorway, the only time he had entered the women’s camp since the terrible illness had struck.
The man was diminished, as if he had been starved. His features, always sharper than the others’, now stood out in stark relief. Only his eyes were the same, burning with hate in his proud face.
“You have brought this plague upon yourself with your foolishness, as I warned you. And worse, your stupidity has not only placed yourselves in jeopardy, but my sister as well.”
His sister? Little Dove realized she hadn’t seen Red Sky Dancer in at least a moon. She’d been too preoccupied with attending to her own sisters to notice. It was pain that strained the shaman’s features, then, not rage. Though his words were harsh, they must come from grief. She would respond to him in kindness. “I am sorry to hear your sister is not well. Is there anything I can do to ease her suffering?”
A troubling thought clawed at the edges of her mind. Perhaps Grey Mother was wrong about how the cursed disease traveled from one host to the other. Red Sky Dancer had avoided their camp in favor of her brother’s since she was a child. She hadn’t come near them since the settlers’ visit. How could she have fallen ill as well?
“Save your sweet words for someone who will benefit. My sister is dead.”
Dead. A flurry of images of the woman staggered Little Dove. The great beauty, vibrant and laughing, pulling the crimson blanket over her shoulders with a flourish. How could she be dead? Her brother’s medicine was the most potent in the land. Grey Mother had pleaded with him for help many times since the terrible illness had cursed their camp, but Lone Wolf hadn’t let her come near. All this time, Little Dove had fought to keep hatred from taking over her heart, sure that Lone Wolf could cure them if he’d wanted. Knowing that even their greatest shaman was powerless in the face of this new threat was more devastating than believing he’d let her sisters die.
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