chapter 3
Samantha didn’t know what to do. She had never been on her own before and wouldn’t be now if not for her own willfulness. Because she had saved one human, her family were all running scattered to the four directions and at the mercy of strangers.
She had to find Bess Suncatcher, and she was not certain that Alon was really the Skinwalker raven’s son.
“If you are a bear like your father then can you also heal wounds?” asked Alon.
Samantha hesitated and then inclined her chin. One corner of his mouth turned upward as if this pleased him.
“I am also a twin.”
“Identical?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I have a sister.”
“Older or younger?”
His mouth went grim and he did not answer, but instead turned away. “Follow me.”
She didn’t, so he stopped and turned back, his face now somber and his eyes troubled.
“Samantha, don’t be so frightened.”
She straightened. “I’m not.”
His eyes rolled skyward at the lie. “I can hear your heartbeat.”
She glared but did not deny her disquiet again.
“I will see you safely to our home. You have my word.”
She believed him. But why did she believe him?
“You are a Halfling?”
He glanced back and then blew out a long breath. “Yes.”
“What are your gifts?” she asked.
His eyes shifted to the undergrowth and then flicked to the branches.
“I do not consider them gifts.”
She waited but he said no more. He cocked his head. She listened, scented the air and found no threat.
“Best be off.” He set them in motion again.
Samantha thought back to her mother’s teaching. Niyanoka could be born with any gift, not just the ones of their parents, and there were so many. Some were born with more than one. She strode beside him as she tried to recall them all. Clairvoyants, Truth Seekers, Dream Walkers, Memory Walkers, Peacemakers... And then she recalled something else. He had said she was born of the first two Halfling races. She stared at this man, heeded the warning that prickled over her skin and dropped back a few more steps.
“Why did the Thunderbirds carry you?” he asked. “What threatened your life?”
“Ghosts,” she said. “Ghosts and the enemy of my mother, the Spirit Nagi, Ruler of all Ghosts.”
This time it was Alon who lost his footing. He drew up short and turned to scrutinize her.
“Nagi?” he asked as if for confirmation.
She nodded, studying his drawn face. He was right to look so concerned. The ruler of the Circle of Ghosts was a dangerous foe. Merely helping her placed him and his entire family at risk.
“I understand if you do not want me near you, Alon.”
“You are worried about my safety?” His voice rang with incredulity. He closed his eyes for a moment and braced his hand across his forehead as if suddenly struck with a terrible headache. “He is not near. That much I know.” He remained where he was, motionless, his head bowed as if in deep thought. “And there are no ghosts about.”
She gaped. “How...how? Do you see them, too?”
Only Seers and Skinwalker owls could see ghosts. And only Seers could send disembodied spirits to the Ghost Road, though her father said that an owl could sometimes trick a ghost into leaving a human host. Terrible possibilities emerged in her mind.
“I can see them.” His hand dropped to his side. “And I can feel them on my skin.”
Tingling fingers of terror danced like ice water down her spine. He could feel the presence of ghosts?
“What are you?” she asked, unable to keep the panic from creeping into her voice.
He did not answer, only jerked his head to scan the open meadow beyond the line of trees, catching the movement an instant before she did.
Something flashed before them, diving into the open space. Samantha stifled a scream until she recognized the brown and white feathers of a swooping harrier hawk. This was no threat, at least, not to her.
She crouched, still looking for ghosts. They appeared to her as wisps of smoke of various colors, usually at the periphery of her vision. The sunlight that streamed down on the grassy field made spotting them much more difficult than in the darkness and clear cold air of the north. It was another reason her father kept them so far north—so they could see the ghosts before the ghosts saw them.
Before them, the sun streamed down on an open field. At the center of the meadow the snow had receded completely, and lush green shoots sprang up amid the bowed yellow grass. The lush landscape reminded Samantha again of how far the Thunderbirds had carried her.
It took only an instant for the raptor to snatch up a hare. The rabbit screamed pitifully as it was whisked without warning into the sky. But the hawk had managed to sink only one set of talons into the rabbit’s back, and so it kicked and writhed. The hawk flapped and flew in a crazy pattern as the struggle continued. Samantha and Alon watched in fascination.
The hawk released the hare. The rodent fell against the trunk of a downed tree and then rolled beneath. The hawk shrieked and flapped, but it could not fly beneath the thick cover of broken branches to reach the wounded hare.
“No dinner for him tonight,” said Alon, revealing that he had been rooting for the hawk, while Samantha favored the hare.
She stepped out from cover, crossing quickly to the downed tree. The hawk knew her on sight, recognizing the superior predator, and quickly turned tail.
Samantha reached between the cage of dead limbs and retrieved the dying rabbit.
“Broke his back,” said Alon, considering the creature.
Samantha carried the hare by the hind legs. Bleeding, torn and broken, it still waved its front paws in a pitiful effort to escape.
“Do you like rabbit?” he asked, as if she planned to make a stew. But she had no appetite for this little creature.
“It’s in pain. Help me find some stones,” she said.
He cocked his head, obviously confused. “Stones?”
She nodded, laying down the rabbit to search.
“How big?”
Despite their speed, by the time she had the healing circle ready, the rabbit was no longer breathing. Samantha chanted, hopeful to find the creature’s heart still beating, but when she had healed the rabbit’s wounds and repaired its spine, it was very definitely lifeless.
“Damn it!” she cursed.
“It looks good as new.”
“It’s dead,” she said, pointing out the obvious.
“And you don’t like rabbit stew?”
She made a sound of disgust.
“Its soul is gone,” he said.
“Yes, I can see that. Thanks.”
She met his aggravated stare with one of her own.
“It’s just a rabbit,” he said.
“And you’re just a man.”
His mouth quirked at that. He rose. “Wait here. It didn’t go far.”
What didn’t? she wondered.
She watched him stride a few steps away and scoop down to snatch something that she could not see. When he turned, she saw why. There was nothing in his clenched fist.
He returned to her and sank to his knees before the little corpse. Then he shoved his fist right inside the rabbit without making a mark. His hand now seemed as insubstantial as smoke. Samantha gave a little shriek of surprise and tumbled to her hindquarters. He opened his hand and withdrew it.
“What in the name of...”
But before she could finish, the rabbit sprang to its feet and darted to cover. She gaped at the place where it had vanished before turning her attention back to him.
She pointed. “It was dead.”
He nodded.
“You brought it back to life.”
“No, you did that. All I did was return its soul to its body. If you hadn’t fixed it, the soul would have just leaked out again.” He placed his hands on his muscular thighs. She stared at those hands, which now seemed as substantial as her own, but bigger, broader and more threatening. “I can remove souls the same way.”
She swallowed back her rising panic. She knew of only one creature who could harvest souls. She rolled to the balls of her feet, now in a low crouch.
“Just what the hell are you, Alon?”
“Exactly what you’re thinking. I’m a Halfling but not like our parents. I am born of Nagi. A Naginoka, Samantha.”
Samantha shot to her feet as if fired from a gun. A Toe Tagger! How could Alon be a Toe Tagger? Toe Taggers were ugly, hideous. She’d seen them attacking her father, seen their quills, gray skin, bulbous yellow eyes and their long, vicious fangs.
Why would the Thunderbirds bring her to him?
She stared at Alon. He was so attractive that his gaze brought her pulse racing even now.
Samantha rose and backed awkwardly away, her fear making her joints stiff.
He followed her slowly, hands open, extended—hands that could retrieve a soul or remove hers.
“Samantha, stop.”
She didn’t. Instead she did what her father had told her to do, what she had been doing her entire life. Samantha turned and ran.
She plunged through the forest, dodging about the huge trunks of the sequoias, thrashing through the underbrush, tearing up the ferns in her wild flight.
Nagi. He was the son of Nagi. The child of her enemy, the Spirit who had hunted her family throughout her entire life. A Toe Tagger, like the nightmare creatures she saw bearing down on them.
Why would the Thunderbirds drop her like a live rabbit into the nest of a hungry hatchling eagle?
She stifled a sob as she raced on.
Her heart beat in her temples as she tried to pull the air past the fingers of dread closing her throat. She gulped, gasped, wept as she ran. She understood now why her mother had not wanted to send her to Bess Suncatcher. Why she had asked which one would go to the raven. She had known.
Why had Alon said he was the son of Bess Suncatcher? He wasn’t, couldn’t be.
The brush slashed across her legs as she fled. Still in human form, she ran with the speed of a bear, thirty miles an hour, charging through the woods, snapping branches the thickness of her wrist as if they were swizzle sticks.
Was he still behind her?
She chanced a glance over her shoulder and saw nothing.
How far had she come? Far enough for the adrenaline to ebb, deserting her now, turning her knees to water. The drum of her heart yielded to the buzz she recognized as dangerous. She’d run too far, too hard. Her body demanded rest. She could hear nothing but the unnatural hum in her ears brought on by a lack of oxygen to her brain. Samantha glanced about, slowing, gripping the tree trunk before her for support.
Where was he now?
Sweat soaked her clothing, trickled down her back and beaded upon her face. She used her sleeve to wipe her forehead, and she realized her fingers were tingling.
But she’d escaped him.
“Samantha?”
She jumped, spun and faced him. He stood some four feet before her, in a grove of ferns that brushed his bare hips. From what she could see he was naked. His mouth now dipped down in an expression of disapproval. Why wasn’t he sweating? Where were his clothes? She must have sprinted six miles, and yet his breathing was normal. He had not a hair out of place, as if he’d just dropped from the sky. She glanced up.
Had he?
“Leave me alone.” She managed the words between gasps for breath.
He stepped closer, leaving the ferns and giving her an eyeful. His skin was flawless, he was extremely well-endowed and his abs were as taut and defined as a male cover model’s.
Samantha crouched. If she couldn’t escape, she’d attack. She swung at him with one arm, a blow that would have sent any ordinary man flying, but he absorbed it without even rocking on his feet. Instead, it was she who ricocheted backward, something that had never happened to her before.
She turned and fled again, back the way she had come, the surge of adrenaline buoying her up, giving her energy. How had he caught her? Why hadn’t she heard him coming?
This time she ran until she dropped, falling to her knees behind the cover of a downed tree. She waited, listening, but could hear nothing but the roar of her blood and that warning buzz in her ears. She wondered if she might faint.
She crouched, trembling like the rabbit she had become. Gradually the sounds of the forest returned—bird song, the whine of insects, the wind in the treetops.
She placed her hands on the rough, damp bark and lifted her head like a prairie dog searching for her pursuer.
He appeared a moment later, his hair looking mussed as he drew on a gray T-shirt and slipped into his long-sleeved dove-gray shirt. When he’d fastened the second-to-last button and tucked the shirt’s hem into his gray jeans, she noticed his feet were bare.
He stared directly at her as if he knew where she hid. She was on her feet and running again before he spoke, but she heard him calling for her to stop. She’d die running first.
The sudden weight of something striking her lower back hurdled her forward. His arms wrapped about her and they toppled together onto the loam of needles. He took the brunt of the fall but then rolled her so fast the world blurred for an instant.
Samantha found herself lying on her back, staring up at Alon, who now straddled her hips. He’d hooked his lower legs across her shins, pinning them to the earth. He had already gained possession of her left wrist. She took a swing at him with her right, but he blocked the blow with disquieting ease, securing her other hand. He trapped her wrists above her head. His wide torso was now poised above hers, his breathing slow and steady, as she gasped for the air she lacked.
She bucked and he shook his head in disapproval. Did he expect her to surrender just because she was beaten? She writhed in a vain effort to dislodge him. He tilted his head to study her, his expression confused.
It took only another moment to recognize that she had found a man who was stronger than she. Her brother, Blake, could pin her on a good day, as could her father. But she had never met an outsider with the strength of a bear who was not a bear. Her body went cold and her stomach cramped at the realization. She was dead.
She strained her arms, twisting, but his easy grip did not yield.
“Stop. You’re hurting yourself.”
Why didn’t he move to finish her?
The dread ebbed against a groundswell of anger. This was not some game, at least not to her. Finally, she laid her head back, gritting her teeth against the fury of her defeat. Samantha went still, but her muscles remained taut, ready for any opportunity.
He was a Halfling, but like none she’d ever known. Born of Nagi. Born of a living ghost.
He gave her a pleased smile. To her absolute shock, she felt a flash of heat in response. Gradually she became aware of the fit of his strong legs on her hips and that weird hum of sensation where he touched her wrists.
Was this why he pursued her? Was he after her body, or was it that the idea of killing excited him? She shivered, wondering exactly what kind of a monster this might be.
He dropped to his elbows, pressing his chest to hers. She waited for the heaving revulsion she expected. But to her dismay the sensation of his warm chest pressing her to the earth set off a tingle of excitement that rippled over her skin, making her breasts sensitive.
No, no, she could not be aroused by this spawn of her enemy. She squeezed her eyes closed against the horror. When she opened them it was to find his clear blue eyes staring down into hers.
Why was he so perfectly made? This was some cruel trick of nature.
His smile made her stomach twitch. He nestled his hips against hers as if they were lovers, instead of enemies, and her body responded, becoming wet and tight in preparation. She prayed he did not have the acute sense of smell that she did, for then her humiliation would be complete.
“Kill me or let me up,” she ordered.
“Neither. I’m not trying to kill you, little shifter. I am trying to keep you from killing yourself. So we’ll just wait until your heart rate returns to normal.”
Her brow furrowed. That would never happen. Not with his big male body blanketing her while his intoxicating scent played havoc with her senses. This was more shameful than her capture. Nothing had ever outrun her before.
She let her head drop to the earth and accepted defeat. Spots danced before her eyes and her chest ached from her exertions.
“That’s better. Rest. You were running yourself to death. I stopped you.”
She didn’t try to hide her annoyance. “If you were so concerned, why didn’t you just let me go?”
He shook his head, his expression somber as if he was sorry.
“No, it’s not safe in these woods.”
“I was born in the woods. I can defend myself.”
“These woods are not like the ones you have known.” He glanced about, scanning their surroundings. “Not at all.”
She shivered at the edge in his voice and the terror his words evoked. What was here that could be more dangerous than he was?
Now Samantha did not know if she should try to escape him, or ask for his protection.
Nothing could ever catch her when she ran. Nothing and no one, until today. She had finally met her match, and he could do anything he liked to her. The realization filled her belly with terror and her heart with a thrill of anticipation.
She bucked again. His attention fixed back to her.
“Let me up,” she demanded.
He shook his head, sending his white-blond hair cascading over his forehead. How could a man this appealing have been spawned by something as repulsive as Nagi?
“Not until you are rested.”
“Let me up!”
He shook his head. “If I do, you’ll run again. Won’t you, rabbit? You’re a good runner. I wonder what would happen if you ever turned to fight?”
He was right again. Her entire life had been one long game of hide-and-seek against Nagi and his ghosts.
Alon’s attention strayed from her eyes, wandered lazily down her face and then fixed on her mouth.
Her lips parted as she recognized the blatant desire written on his face. His mouth quirked and his gaze slid to her throat and then her breasts before returning to fix on her eyes. The intent stare made her tingle all over.
She writhed against him, side to side, feeling his erection growing as she did so. He winced as if in pain.
“You should stop that,” he said, his voice now no more than a growl.
Samantha ceased fighting.
“That’s better.” His voice mesmerized, his eyes hypnotized.
“What are you doing to me?”
“The same thing you’re doing to me, I think.”
The desire beat inside her like a living thing, demanding she yield.
“You’re putting these thoughts in my head.”
It had to be his thoughts. This feeling could not be coming from inside her. She could not be physically attracted to her enemy. He must be sending them to her, invading her mind as she had heard some Niyanoka could do.
He shook his head. “This does not come from me. It comes from us. It is unwelcome.”
“You said it, buster.”
“I meant that I find it unwelcome.”
That shocked her into silence.
His fine hair shimmered in the sunlight, his eyes narrowed and he stared a long moment. She felt he was deciding something and found herself holding her breath.
“You were sent to my mother. That makes you my responsibility. So I place you under my protection.”
“She’s not your mother.”
His eyes went cold then and his mouth turned hard. “What do you know about anything?”
He rolled away but held control of her wrist. She tried and failed to break his grip as he dragged her to her feet. She made an attempt to run, and he yanked her arm so that she collided with his torso. A moment later he had her in his arms.
“Stop acting like a child. I didn’t invite you here,” he said. “And I don’t want you here. I just want to be left alone.” He gave her a squeeze, pressing the breath from her. “Can you understand that? But neither of us gets what we want. I’m stuck with you. And you’re stuck with me. Got it?”
“I don’t need your help,” she said and tried to prove it by jerking her arm free of his grasp. She failed again.
“You wouldn’t last ten minutes. Now stop making a nuisance of yourself and start acting like what you are, an uninvited guest who is a pain in my ass.”
She was about to laugh in his face. Did he really think she was that helpless? She was a grizzly bear, for heaven’s sake, fully capable of defeating...
Some of her bravado ebbed away and she stilled. She couldn’t defeat Alon. Were there others here like him?