by Gail Koger
Arresting the
Warlord
Gail Koger
Copyright © June 2020 by Gail Koger
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Gail Koger. Please do not participate or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized copies.
Image/art disclaimer: Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.
Cover Artist: Valerie Tibbs
Published in the United States of America
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events, existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Contents
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Books in the Coletti Warlord series
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my parents.
Prologue
The crawlies woke me. The crawlies meant the bad men were coming. I scrambled over to Mama and shook her awake. “Mama. Bad men.”
Mama wearily opened her eyes. “You sure, baby?”
I nodded.
She shot out of the bed and hurriedly dressed. “Put your shoes on and get your satchel.”
I quickly obeyed.
Mama gathered up our things. “How far away?”
I held up both hands.
“Ten minutes?”
I bobbed my head. “They mad.”
“So am I, CeeCee. So am I.” Mama scooped me up, carried me out to our old, rusty van and buckled me into my car seat. “I love you baby.”
The crawlies got worse. “Go now. They come, Mama.”
“I’ll find us someplace safe. I promise.” Mama got in the car and started the engine.
Safe? My belly twisted as the images of hissing fire snakes flashed across my mind. I remembered the heat, the struggle to breathe, the windows exploding, raining broken glass down on us. Mama’s cries of fear and horror when the bad men killed Uncle Max. We hid under the chicken house until they left.
An overwhelming sadness filled me. Why hadn’t Daddy Aldo come for us? Mama wanted to look for him, but the bad men kept chasing us. What had we done to make them so mad?
The road stretched out like a silver ribbon. In the distance, fiery snakes danced across the black clouds. Had the fire snakes found us again?
“Where are the bad men CeeCee?”
I concentrated. “Motel.”
“Good. Maybe I can lose them on the reservation.”
“What reservation?”
“It’s where the Navajo people live.”
“Can we live there too?”
“No, baby.”
Bang! The car swerved violently and suddenly we were tumbling over and over. Thud! The car stopped abruptly. The straps of my car seat bit into my chest, making it hard to breathe. “Mama!”
Mama moaned.
“Mama! What happened Mama?”
“Are. Are you hurt?” Mama gasped.
“Me kay.” My hands fumbled with the buckles. Had to get to Mama. I could feel her going into the light like Uncle Max. “No go Mama. No go. Stay.” The straps gave way and I crawled into the front seat. Mama’s face looked funny and there was blood everywhere.
Mama’s hand touched my cheek. “Love. You. So. Much.”
I grabbed her hand. “Stay with me.”
Mama closed her eyes.
“Mama needs help,” I cried desperately. “Please. Help Mama.”
“Where are you, little one?” A warm, reassuring male voice said in my head.
“Don’t know. Car crashed.”
“Look around. What do you see?” The mental voice was reassuring and at the same time full of authority.
The lightning illuminated an upside-down tree. The twisted roots formed a man pointing at the road. “A pointing man.”
“I know where you are, and I will come for you.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. My name’s Samuel. What’s yours?”
“CeeCee.”
“Okay, CeeCee, keep talking to your mother.”
“I try, but the light calls to her.”
“You can see the light?”
“Uh huh, it took Uncle Max and I don’t want it to take Mama too.”
Samuel brushed my mind in a gentle caress. “You’re a special child.”
“That’s what Mama says. Is that why bad men want to kill us?”
“I won’t let them hurt you.”
Somehow, I believed him. “Kay.”
Mama moaned. “Baby?”
“I here.” I patted her face. “Samuel is coming to help you.”
“Where. Bad. Men?”
I frowned and focused on them. A quick wash of fear swept over me. They were close. “Samuel, bad men come.”
“I sense them. I want you to run and hide.”
“Won’t leave Mama.”
“Baby. Where bad men?”
Headlights pierced the darkness.
“Here, Mama.”
“Find. Find my purse. Get. Gun.”
“Yes, Mama.” I looked around. The strap of her purse protruded from under the seat. Grabbing it, I opened it and carefully picked up the gun. “Here Mama.”
She took the gun. “Hide CeeCee.”
“No. Stay with you,” I told her.
“Stubborn. Like your dad.”
“Me are.”
A dark form loomed up. “Gotcha, bitch.”
Boom! The gunshot echoed loudly in the quiet night.
The man grunted and fell.
“You fucking bitch,” another man yelled.
Whoosh! A knife suddenly penetrated his chest. A look of shock on his face, he toppled over.
“Samuel?”
“Yes, CeeCee. Let me have a look at your mother.” A tall man with long silver hair leaned into the car. Samuel placed his hand on Mama’s head and sighed. “It’s her time, little one.”
Tears poured down my cheeks. “No! I won’t let it take her.” With every ounce of strength I had, I fought back the light. “Go away. Go away.”
“Stop child. Would you doom her to wander forever in the void?”
I shook my head and let the radiance engulf Mama.
The pain vanished from Mama’s face and she grabbed Samuel’s arm. “Promise. Promise me you’ll keep her safe.”
“You have my word. I will raise CeeCee as my own.”
“Thank. You.” The breath rattled in Mama’s chest and she passed into the light.
“Mama,” I sobbed.
Samuel cradled me in his arms. “Shush, daughter, she has joined her ancestors. You’re safe now.”
And I was. I became CeeCee Tsosie, the daughter of Samuel Tsosie, a powerful Navajo shaman. With my Italian heritage, I blended right in. My adopted father taught me ever
ything he knew. Like how to control the weather and other goodies. My power to talk to the dead was treasured, not feared. As I grew older, I gained more talents. I became the best tracker in the tribe. One look at a person’s aura and I could tell if they were lying. The crawlies, or my early warning system, grew stronger. I could sense an approaching threat from ten miles away. When I hit puberty, I was suddenly able to wrap my power around a person and hold them immobile. I called it my freeze ray. Since I’m rather petite, it came in handy when I became a police officer. It didn’t matter how big the suspect was, I could take him. Easily.
Occasionally, more bounty hunters would show up. They would mysteriously disappear and when I asked Father about them, he would just smile. My birth father, Aldo Dragos, never came for me. A fact I learned to live with. Eventually.
When the Tai-Kok attacked our world they soon discovered the Navajo Nation was a place to avoid. They couldn’t defeat the Skinwalkers, our version of a shapeshifter.
The Jones clan’s psychic abilities gave the rest of the world an early warning system, which allowed people time to get to the hastily constructed underground shelters before the Tai-Kok and their ally, the Rodan, could chow down.
I remember when Kaylee Jones had the bad idea to hook up with a Coletti warlord. Her stunt brought Earth to the attention of Zarek, the Coletti Overlord. Once he discovered the Jones family’s unique psychic powers, and their blood’s ability to heal cellular damage, he promptly seized control of Earth.
The fools at Central Command decided an alliance with the Coletti Empire was a Godsend. The Coletti warlords and their allies did do a terrific job of wiping the Tai-Kok from existence. But their protection came with a price. Zarek demanded we turn over all psychic women to him. Seems he needed us as breeding stock.
Big shocker, the Coletti warriors’ tendency to take things that didn’t belong to them started the Great Galactic War. Unfortunately for the females of the universe, chemicals used on the Coletti people in the war created a genetic anomaly, and only one female baby was born for every one thousand males. The Coletti women were going the way of the dodo bird and guess who got to pay the price for their men’s stupidity? Us psychic females.
Central Command suddenly began enacting new laws. Anyone with extrasensory abilities had to report to their local military base, fill out registration paperwork, and get chipped like an animal. You faced fines and jail time if you refused.
The Navajo Council Elders refused to comply with the new laws. We were a sovereign nation and Central Command had no jurisdiction over us. The first time the Coletti warriors showed up, I discovered my mental shields and turquoise shaman’s amulet prevented them sensing my psychic abilities. To them I was a normal human.
Almost all our psychics were shamans and male. The few psychic women we had were elderly. To say the Coletti were disappointed would be an understatement. Apart from a yearly visit, they left us alone. Hmmm. We were due for another visit any time now.
Chapter One
Most of the time I loved being a cop, but radar duty sucked. The majority of tribal lands are flat, sandy and dotted with an occasional sagebrush or stunted tree. I’d hide behind a scraggly cedar tree and wait for a speeder. Which could take hours. To pass the time I made up silly hip-hop chants. “I am more than I was. Raah, Raah. Vem Hum. One heart. One mind. Eu quero. No ritmo. My journey has just begun. Oi-oi-oi-oi.”
A canary yellow Mustang convertible whizzed by. My radar gun beeped. The guy was doing one hundred and twenty miles an hour! “Yippee-ki-yay! Prepare to be lassoed cowboy.” I hit the lights and sirens and chased after him.
Did the Jackass slow down? Nope. He sped up. He was about to learn you never messed with a cop who was also a shaman. I drew on my power and chanted, “Sepulcrum ibidem solus novum. Vem Hum. Domum rotundam!”
A small black cloud formed over the convertible.
“Miraculin. Vivtorie construxit!”
A downpour of rain hit the Mustang. The Jackass increased his speed.
I grinned as the cloud followed the Mustang like a faithful dog. It would only take a minute or two before the interior of car became a lake. Hey, breaking the law had consequences.
The Jackass slowed and pulled over.
I parked behind him. “Oi-oi-oi-oi solus novum!” The cloud vanished.
Putting on my official brown cowboy hat, I grabbed my ticket book and walked up to the Mustang. Crap. He was a Coletti warrior. Why hadn’t I sensed him early? Did I make nice or cite him? “License and registration.”
Water dripping down his face, the Jackass scowled at me. “Do you know who I am?”
“No. I need your license and registration, sir,” I said in my best stern cop’s voice.
“I’m a Coletti warlord. I don’t need a license or registration.” He opened the driver’s door, allowing the water to spill out on my boots.
Resisting the urge to smack him with my ticket book, I said politely, “That’s going to create a bit of a problem, sir.”
The soggy Jackass got out of the car and bared his fangs at me. “Local police departments have no jurisdiction over warlords.”
I had to admit the arrogant Jackass was one fine specimen of manhood and quite handsome. The Jackass’s hair was black with auburn highlights. I didn’t think Coletti warriors used hairdressers, but I could be wrong. His black tee-shirt clung to his muscular chest nicely and his jeans fit him like a glove. The prick was drool worthy, but the law was the law. “You’re on Navajo Nation’s lands, sir, and you need a driver’s license and registration to operate a vehicle.”
“And if I don’t have them?” He loomed over me.
“Then I’ll have to impound your car and place you under arrest.” The Jackass wanted to play hardball? Game on. I did love a challenge.
The Jackass’s gaze roved over my petite form and he snorted in disbelief. “You’re going to arrest me? All by yourself, buttercup?”
Buttercup? “I am.”
“I can always teleport away.”
I shrugged. “Maybe, but you can’t teleport the car, now can you?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched.
Boys and their toys. An instant later, I felt his mind hit my mental shields and bounce off. I bared my teeth in a predatory smile. “I’m adding assaulting a police officer to your charges.”
The Jackass gave me a gotcha smile. “Zarek thought your people were hiding something. You’re psychic and I’m placing you under arrest.”
“Nice try, but I’m also a shaman and according to our treaty, you can’t touch me.”
His eyes narrowed. “That cloudburst was you, wasn’t it?”
“Me?” I admired the bright turquoise sky. There wasn’t a cloud in sight. “The weather can be funny out here. You should have put the top up.”
“It’s broken,” he admitted testily.
“Place your hands on the hood of your car,” I ordered, taking out my cuffs.
“You aren’t arresting me,” Jackass snapped.
I smiled brightly. “Yes, I am.”
With a snarl, the Jackass reached for me.
I hit him with my freeze ray. I knew it was a bad idea, but he needed to be taught a lesson.
His eyes widened in shock and he struggled to move.
“You were warned.” Pulling out my modified stun gun, I zapped him and watched the big, bad warlord crash to the ground.
“You’re going to regret this,” Jackass growled in my head.
Probably. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. If I were you, I’d shut the hell up.”
“How are you going to get me in your patrol car?”
“Watch and learn.” I linked with Uncle Jesse. “I need a car towed at milepost 260.”
“Five minutes out,” Uncle Jesse answered.
I cuffed the Jackass and patted his face. “Don’t go anywhere.”
A killing
rage simmered in his amber eyes.
I opened the back door to my patrol car.
“I won’t fit.”
Hmmm. He was a big dude, but where there’s a will, there’s a way. Getting my small anti-gravity sled out of the trunk, I slid it under his body and lifted him up.
“I’m telling you I won’t fit.
“Oopsy-daisy.” I dumped him headfirst into the backseat of my patrol car. He landed face down on the floorboard and his legs were bent at an awkward angle. “See. You fit.”
“Paybacks are a bitch.”
“Keep it up and I’ll add threatening a police officer to your charges.”
Uncle Jesse pulled up in his old tow truck, leaned out the driver’s window and whistled. “Nice car.”
“It has a little water damage,” I said, shutting the car door.
“You’re paying for the repairs, female,” Jackass stated.
“The name’s Officer Tsosie and I think not. Do you have any hard, cold evidence that I made it rain in your car?”
“Fuck.”
“Didn’t think so.” I walked over to the Mustang and started a vehicle inventory. Jackass had one small suitcase, a bottle of water and a bag of chocolate kisses. A guy who liked chocolate couldn’t be all bad. Could he? Vicious curses erupted from the backseat of my patrol car. Then again.
I hit the jackpot when I opened the trunk. There were several laser rifles, pistols, knives and one deadly looking sword. “Tsk. Tsk. Did you know laser rifles are illegal on Navajo Nation land?”
“No.”
“Ignorance of the law is no excuse. I’ll be adding misconduct involving weapons to your charges.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
I remembered all the times the Coletti had treated us poorly. “Immensely.”
Uncle Jesse hooked up the Mustang and the tow boom lifted the front tires off the pavement.
“There are a bunch of laser weapons in the back. I need you to tow the Mustang to the station first.”
Uncle Jesse saluted me and drove off.
I was a bit surprised to see the Jackass upright in the backseat. A snicker escaped me. His knees were crammed under his chin. “Try anything funny and I’ll hit you with my freeze ray again.” I buckled up.