Ty lumbered after her, splashing through the puddles she had avoided. “Slow down, Doc. We could be running into my boys. We don’t know where they are.”
He grabbed her arm then jerked her to a stop. At that same moment, Cleo saw two men peering at something ahead of them. One man lifted a weapon in slow motion.
She tried to pry his fingers from her forearm. “You said they wouldn’t come after us in this storm. Let’s go.”
“What about your crazy Neosho? Will he come after you? He’s the one I’m worried about. Maybe he won’t kill you, but my life ain’t worth a nickel since I took you. Best stay out of sight. Something got those two friends of yours spooked.”
Even though she struggled to free herself, he dragged her deeper into the darkest area along the brick buildings as they kept moving forward. “You’re hurting me,” she fumed as he shoved her against the brick.
“Calm down.” He squinted. “What caused those two guys to stop? Do you see anything?
“I understand this place is putting you on edge. See that guy with long hair? I know him.” Her heart skipped a beat knowing Wind Dancer was at Jacque’s side. He’d survived Neosho’s attack after all.
“Those your friends? You’re sure?”
“Yes.” Something had them spooked or Wind Dancer’s senses would alert him to her presence. She eased out again then charged forward, calling to them, with Ty hot on her heels.
Both men looked toward them and waved them off.
“I don’t have a good feeling about any of this,” Ty huffed as he struggled to keep up with Cleo.
At a crack of lightning, they cringed even as they picked up the pace. In a split second of darkness to daylight when lightning forces itself to the ground, Cleo saw them, the Death Apostles edging out of corners like the cockroaches they’d become. Another flash revealed Neosho moving forward, steady and confident, as if this was but a walk in the park. Ty tripped when he halted then stumbled and almost fell as he surged ahead to intercept Cleo.
She picked up speed when she detected an expression of panic wash over Wind Dancer’s face. Before she realized what was happening, Wind Dancer barreled toward Neosho coming out of the darkness to show himself under a flickering streetlamp. Jacque held up a hand as if it might slow Cleo down while sidestepping toward her. At the same time, he raised his weapon and pointed it at Ashanti, coming out into the light.
“Get your hands up where I can see them,” Jacque yelled at Ashanti.
The gang leader waved his boys off while continuing to rush forward toward Cleo.
When a gun came out of the inside of Ashanti’s jacket, Cleo screamed, “Jacque.”
A shot hit the detective square in the chest, knocking him backward into a puddle. Cleo watched the gravity of what the leader had done fill his bulging eyes for a split second. At the same time, Ty caught up with her and managed to shove her behind him and face Ashanti.
Even before she could scream, Ashanti spat out his verdict. “This is how Death Apostles deal with a traitor.”
A shot slammed into Ty, dropping him next to Jacque at the same time a bolt of lightning made night into day.
Jacque struggled to sit up as a mangy dog lay down beside him. “Get him,” he moaned.
A menacing growl began deep in the animal’s gut as he rose on his haunches then lunged forward at Ashanti.
Chapter 25
Jacque struggled to his feet, thankful he’d slipped on the protective vest he kept in the trunk of his car. Even so, his chest would be sore as hell, not to mention his butt from hitting the pavement. Cleo bent down beside the kid before raising her face to him. The sound of the dog tearing into Ashanti and the screams of terror drew several other Death Apostles out into the open with guns drawn. He reached down and picked up his weapon from a puddle and for a split second wondered if it would jam.
“Dog!” he yelled through the sound of rolling thunder, which brought the animal to heel at his side. Jacque unconsciously reached down with his hand and touched his scruffy head. The mutt was as wet as the rest of them. Ashanti rolled on the ground before he pushed himself up so fast he appeared to have embedded springs in his legs.
“Jacque?” Cleo stood and stared at the gang leader who rolled his red glowing eyes toward Wind Dancer and Neosho still struggling to gain advantage over each other. “I think the skinwalker took a new body.”
The dog whimpered as he cowered behind Jacque. “Let’s get this kid out of the rain. Help me get him in the car.”
Ty moaned, lifting a bloody hand from his shoulder and staring at it in horror. The detective kept an eye on the new skinwalker as he moved very much like a dog stalking its prey. The other gang members disappeared into the darkness.
“Joseph!” Jacque’s voice seemed muffled as a bolt of lightning hit the top of a nearby building, followed by an explosion of thunder.
He watched Wind Dancer knock Neosho to the ground as Neosho leaped to his feet and escaped into the night at a speed unlike a normal human’s.
Ashanti lifted his hands close to his face as if examining them for the first time then felt his body.
Jacque made exaggerated gestures so Wind Dancer would skirt the new Ashanti with caution. Wind Dancer nodded then moved toward Jacque and Cleo.
“Wind Dancer!” Cleo called as she ran toward him.
He caught her up in his arms, drawing her to his chest. “I thought I’d never see you again.” The rain dragged strands of her hair across her eyes as Wind Dancer captured her mouth with his.
“Let’s go!” Jacque hurried around to the driver’s side of the car as he continued to watch Ashanti standing beneath a streetlamp that flickered like heat lightning.
Cleo and Wind Dancer took the backseat to help with Ty as the dog jumped into the front seat ahead of Jacque. The canine pointed his nose over the seat and eyed the three.
“The skinwalker has left his body, Jacque.” Wind Dancer rubbed the dog’s ear. “We need to return to the museum. It is almost dawn.”
He drove the car out onto a flooded street, not sure they would be able to plow through. “That was close. At least there is some good news. How’s the kid?”
“I hate dogs. Tell him to stop staring at me,” Ty whined. “Take me to the hospital.”
“I don’t think you want to do that, kid,” Jacque warned. “Suspicious cases of a mysterious illness have started showing up at several local hospitals. Probably smallpox. The Feds, Chicago PD, and who knows who else won’t give a damn about what we’re doing here. Cleo can fix you up.” He glanced up in the rearview mirror. “Cleo,” he snapped. “Can you fix him up?”
She was pale and trembling but she nodded.
“You okay? Did they hurt you?”
She shook her head as Wind Dancer touched her neck where Neosho tried to choke her.
“I will kill Neosho,” Wind Dancer growled, not so different from the skinwalker, as he withdrew his hand to stare straight ahead.
~~~~
The two security guards hesitated at letting the three bring a bloody guy who wore gang colors and swore every other word into the museum. This time they did comment on the dog. Jacque guessed it was because the animal no longer carried the soulless skinwalker inside him. They protested until he gave stern orders to stand down. He puffed out his chest like a five-star general as he shoved them aside to let Wind Dancer carry Ty inside to the coffee shop. Several of the Pawnee delegation came out of the Native American wing to help Cleo ram tables together. She suggested where the most likely niche for first aid supplies would be kept then relayed what she needed to Jacque. He ordered the security guards to take him there.
He returned to find several Pawnee wiping down the tables with bleach towelettes as Cleo scrubbed her hands in the kitchen sink. He cringed as Two Feathers lifted a bottle of bleach then poured it over her hands. Even from ten feet away at the coffee shop opening, the smell of the chemical burned his eyes. He dug through the supplies and found some disposable gloves for her as sh
e used paper towels to dry her hands.
“You’re a good man, Jacque,” she said holding her hands up for him to help her, although he had to let her do most of the work.
“What can I do, Cleopatra?” Wind Dancer’s forehead creased.
She picked up a scalpel-like instrument and removed the sterile packaging. When she held it up to the light, a boom of thunder followed by the lights flickering, reminded Jacque of Dr. Frankenstein. Her face appeared void of emotion or concern, which also gave him pause.
“What the hell you gonna do, Doc?” Ty squirmed as he talked through chattering teeth.
“Joseph, I need you to hold this guy down because I’m going to do a little exploring and he won’t like it.” She nodded to Two Feathers. “You might need to help, too, Jacque. Are you squeamish?”
Of course, he was squeamish, but admitting it didn’t occur to him. He hated crime scenes but liked solving the mystery. “No. I’m good. Do what you gotta do.”
“Explore? What you mean?” Ty tried to scoot away as Wind Dancer ripped off his shirt and threw it to the floor. “My best shirt. You better get me another one because…” The Pawnee managed to pin Ty’s arm so he couldn’t move.
“Hey, Doc, you can’t cut me. We’ve been through too much together.”
Jacque cringed as an evil smirk played at the corners of her mouth. He wondered in that moment if she worked in the ER because she enjoyed this kind of thing. The woman appeared steady and unaffected by the blood, storm, and possibility of falling into another universe any minute; very different from the woman he’d observed an hour earlier. The confidence in her eyes as she suspended the knife above Ty made Jacque ponder whether she could be one of those doctors with a god complex.
“Stop moving, Ty,” she said.
His eyes bulged, and he showed no signs of being still. “I can’t work like this.”
Jacque stepped up and wacked the man in the forehead with the butt of his gun. Ty’s eyes rolled to unconsciousness. Except for Cleo, the others stepped away with shock showing on their faces.
“Let’s get on with it,” Jacque said as he slipped his gun into his holster. “Tick tock, you guys.”
“Thank you, Jacque. Not my usual sedative, but very effective nonetheless.”
Even before she stopped talking, she managed to disinfect the area around the gunshot wound and started poking around in the hole. The detective stepped away and pretended to check his phone so the others wouldn’t know he felt faint. He didn’t want to be the cop who had to put his head between his legs to maintain consciousness.
“Deep breaths,” he mumbled as the scruffy dog sat down beside him. “What are you staring at? Not my fault some skinwalker took advantage of you. And stop following me.” He dialed Agent Farentino. “Yeah. It’s me.”
He filled the FBI in about the doctor and Ty but conveniently left out the part about the skinwalker who might be leading a notorious gang. He wanted to keep his job, not be admitted for a twenty-four-hour hold at some psych ward. The information about Cleo vaccinating the gang members and the lack of signs of infection among the group drew a relieved sigh on the other end of the phone.
“I’m thinking they’re headed this way. Neosho wants the doc to cross over with him.”
“How do we know this parallel universe will open or even if it will be today?” Agent Farentino gave an exasperated chuckle.
“How the hell do I know? All of this is way over my head. I’m keeping you up to speed. I’ve got a wounded gang member here and a bunch of Pawnee who think they’re getting ready to go to the Little Bighorn.”
“That was a different tribe and time.”
“Excuse my historical faux pas,” Jacque growled.
“Another pretty big word for you, a Chicago cop. And here I planned to get you a thesaurus for your birthday.”
“Not surprised since all your experience over at the Bureau tends to be out of a book. Thanks just the same.” Jacque clicked off realizing the FBI agent got under his skin, even though he seemed like a professional with a decent head on his shoulder. He didn’t like the FBI getting in his way or psyche. They sometimes got credit for work his guys did.
“Everything okay, Jacque?” Wind Dancer dried his hands on a paper towel.
He slipped the phone in his pocket and unconsciously reached down to pat the dog on the head. The dog panted and wagged his tail as Jacque continued. “Yeah. Done?”
“Cleopatra found the bullet and patched him up. She thinks he’ll be good. I mean okay.” He gave a thumbs-up sign and grinned. “He is trying to wake up. Cleopatra wants him to sleep. Would you like to hit him again?”
“I think Cleo would object to my method a second time.” He nodded toward the coffee shop then headed in that direction. “Where are the others?”
“Preparing to cross if the opening appears in the earth lodge. They have supplies, pictures, cell phones, and gadgets I don’t understand. I’m not sure what it means, but they have downloaded maps to take, too, as well as extra-charged batteries for these phones. Something about solar cells.”
Jacque chuckled. “You’ve a lot to learn. I’m guessing they’re taking all those things to prove they’ve been here.”
“Yes. I spoke into their phone to record a message to Cleo’s father and to my people in case something happened to me. They must believe in the danger and the mission of these good men who cross over to help them.”
The thought occurred to Jacque he might wake up someday, discover on the morning news that the President of the United States was a Native American and everyone could speak English and some other tribal language. Could this even be possible? Would these Pawnee change the world as he knew it, and would it be for the better?
Two Feathers covered Ty with a tablecloth as Jacque and Wind Dancer entered the coffee shop. He spotted Cleo cleaning up and a discarded bloody lab coat half-in and half-out of a large trash can near one of the decorative pillars. The kid moaned even as Two Feathers laid a comforting hand on his head. The old Pawnee lifted his eyes to meet Jacque’s and bobbed his head in what he guessed meant reassurance.
“I think he’s good for a while, Jacque.” Cleo put her hands on her hips and stared down at her patient. “We’re going to need to get him to a hospital, though. If he starts bleeding, I can’t really do anything to help him here.”
He glanced from the kid to Cleo and realized how pretty she looked standing there appearing so unconcerned after all she’d been through. Once the amount of excitement in her life dawned on her, that confident, in-charge swagger would evaporate. Now he found it way too pleasant to take in her pale skin with the freckles trailing across her nose and the strawberry-blonde hair curving around her chin. He guessed her to be a bit younger than him but not much, although the mirror suggested otherwise. Maybe if Wind Dancer had remained in the museum case instead of crossing over, this scenario would end differently. But, damn if he didn’t like her spunk. Smart and pretty. Not one of those women who fussed with her appearance all the time. She reminded him of a Dove soap commercial.
“Jacque, what’s wrong?”
Cleo snapped him out of his reverie as she moved up to touch his forehead. He immediately swiped at her hand. “I’m good. Thinking is all.” Good thing he didn’t embarrass easily or his face would be red as a beet.
She stepped toward him again with concern etched around her eyes as she touched his cheek with the back of her hand. “Are you sure? You’re a little flushed.”
“That’s because everything has gone into the toilet,” he quipped as he walked away toward the grand foyer. Her light laughter at his attempt of a joke made him feel even worse about his carnal thoughts. Wind Dancer followed him after saying something to Cleo.
“I need to ask you a favor, Jacque.”
Jacque continued to walk until he entered the Native American exhibit. He forced himself to focus on the platform where the sacrifice for the Morning Star should take place. Of course, it never did for the tourists and s
chool kids, or at least so he’d been told. He had actually never seen it. For all he knew, these guys slipped into the museum after hours and did the deed illegally. Creepy.
“Okay, shoot.”
Wind Dancer stepped in front of him and halted with a frown of shock that creased the lines near his eyes. “You want me to shoot you? I cannot.”
Jacque took in a deep breath then released it as slowly as he could manage. “Shoot is an expression. It means talk to me.”
“Oh. Of course. I misunderstood.” He seemed as if he might be storing the words for later use.
Jacque’s jacket opened when his hands rested on his hips. The feel of comfort entered his body as his hand touched the hardness of his weapon. “What favor?”
“Can you take care of Cleopatra if I cross over with these warriors?”
The detective dropped his hands to his sides. “No. I’m not a babysitter. You’ve wanted to be with her”—he rolled his eyes— “forever it sounds like. Why would you leave? She’s crazy about you and there isn’t any mystery about how you feel.” He lowered his voice. “The woman is something else. I’m not sure why she’s single, but I’m not going to protect her honor while you play superhero to a bunch of Indians.” A deep breath. “And, besides, what makes you think you can trust me? Maybe I got a thing for the doc.”
“Something else,” he repeated slowly as if deciphering the meaning. “But I do trust you. If I don’t return I want to know she is safe from this dangerous world. I would take her with me, but it is too hard a life for someone like her.” He shifted his gaze to the sacrifice platform. “We can’t let Neosho find her.”
“Not going to happen here. I’ll put a bullet in his head if he shows up again. And, as to the skinwalker, I’ll do the same with him. Can this get any weirder?”
“And, Jacque?” He placed his hand on the detective’s shoulder, squeezed harder than necessary, and looked in the direction where they’d left Cleo. “I will come again. Remember this if you get a thing for her.”
Dark Side of Morning (Wind Dancer Book 1) Page 21