SkinwalkersWoman Read online

  But her friggin’ inner voice had told her to trust the old fart.

  Deciding that a hasty retreat was far more appealing than staying, she climbed back behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition, resigned to admitting the complete failure of her endeavor. Her heart pounded dully inside her chest as the SUV’s motor started jerkily, then died again, refusing to start a second time.

  “No, God…please…don’t let this be happening to me!” she whispered, and tried again. As the motor grumbled and cranked, it began to get less and less noisy, until it was just a series of sharp clicks…then nothing.

  She swallowed hard. She knew that sound couldn’t be good. As far as she could tell, there wasn’t a mechanic or parts store for at least sixty miles. She had no idea what was under the dust-bathed hood of this huge vehicle. Looking under there would do her no good, because she had no notion of what to look for or how to fix it. And she wasn’t up to a long hike in a hundred-plus-degree heat in freaking designer boots.

  Not even in the fancy running shoes she’d packed.

  With an angry snarl at her stupidity, she dragged out her phone and climbed up onto the luggage rack of the SUV once more. She twisted from side to side but not one single, tiny bar appeared. She swore loudly and angrily, then turned on the GPS and slowly pressed 9-1-1. Even in areas without a signal, the emergency GPS might allow someone to find her. A passing plane. An alien spaceship. Maybe even a passing eagle?

  Damn…I wish.

  Climbing back down onto the gravel and dust, she heaved a deep sigh of resignation and trudged over to climb the unpainted wooden steps to the wide porch that spanned the entire front of the place. When she got her hands on that old man, she was going to strangle him. But for now, all she could do was see how bad the situation was and make the best of it. At least until help arrived. If it ever does.

  After all, she had dragged along a supply of canned goods and some cases of bottled water, and could manage to make it through a night or two until someone picked up the GPS signal. Hopefully. She wouldn’t starve to death. And she certainly wouldn’t freeze. She irritably ran the back of one hand over her perspiring brow.

  The door opened without being obstinate. No rusty hinges here. The expected smells of disuse were absent. She stepped inside the surprisingly tidy cabin and crossed the bare wooden floor. Glancing around, she moved to the only window and tugged aside the sun-faded curtain. The window glass was clean. In fact, everything seemed to be clean. The open door and the window gave the only illumination to the interior of the utilitarian single room. It looked to be about fifteen feet by fifteen feet. She checked the inside edge of the door for a light switch. Nope. Great. Her gaze slid to the vintage sconces on two of the rough log walls. Oil lamps? You have got to be shitting me!

  But then, there had been no electrical wires or poles anywhere along the rutted road she’d been following. Obtuse, much? Any sane woman would have noticed this fact. But then, shouldn’t there be a generator, at least? This wasn’t exactly the Stone Age…or was it?

  She bit her lower lip and turned full circle to survey the cabin she had rented. The floors were swept and canned goods and spices lined the open-fronted shelves along the wall. A pair of free-standing hurricane lanterns stood on one of the heavy shelves. No fridge. Good thing she hadn’t brought perishables. She winced at the sight of what passed for a sink, staring disbelievingly at a small hand pump standing over a galvanized bucket that had been counter-sunk into a large wooden cabinet of sorts. An old-fashioned iron woodstove stood in the corner just beyond a small table with two chairs, and on the other wall stood a narrow bed…cot…whatever. The furniture all stood along the walls, leaving the center area—all eight or so feet of it—open.

  Well…she had expected rustic.

  But I got totally ancient.

  Chellie moved methodically around the small space. The stove was cold, but a half-full coffeepot sat on the stovetop extension, which was supported by a metal leg of sorts. The coffee smelled strong but not as if it’d been there for months. It looked as if someone had very recently been in the cabin.

  Or is living here.

  Oh shit!

  Was there another cabin out here besides the one she’d rented? Obviously this one was already occupied.

  Her heart tripped nervously. She swallowed the tightness in her throat as she moved across the room to the old chest of drawers that stood against the far wall, a foot or so from the tiny “bed”. Tugging open one of the drawers, she groaned at the sight of men’s jeans, a couple of folded flannel shirts, a couple of T-shirts, socks and underwear. She lifted a pair of soft, well-worn cotton boxer briefs between thumb and forefinger and fought not to throw a tantrum. This place was most definitely occupied. “I fucking don’t believe this! What more can possibly go wrong today?” she said to no one in particular.

  A tingling sensation ran along her spine.

  A low chuckle behind her made her stiffen.

  “Usually complete strangers don’t just walk in and start checking out my skivvies…but you, I don’t mind.” The rough, deep voice came from the direction of the open door at her back and she jerked around with a startled cry to face the intruder.

  Intruder?

  Um…looks like I’m the intruder…

  The words “tall, dark and incredibly rugged” flashed through her mind as she nearly tripped backward onto the narrow bed and barely saved herself from further humiliation by staggering sideways before regaining her balance. Girl, you are in deep shit…

  Chapter Two

  He rose from the old Navajo rug that had cushioned his bare ass from the rough sandstone floor of the sweat lodge and stretched the muscles that had grown stiff from his night-long meditation. He had seen the ch’iin again. The demon was closer than it had ever been before. Something must have drawn it out of hiding. The evil one seldom showed its shadow to anyone who could withstand it. It preyed on the weak and frightened. Preyed on innocence.

  He had seen trouble coming, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. But it had been the final vision that had caught him totally off guard. Night-dark eyes meeting his and thick black hair spread over his bed…

  Not likely. He pressed his stiffening dick gently down, trying to ignore its awakened state. A piss might help, but he doubted that this one came from needing to urinate.

  The medicine dreams never lied. At least, they’ve never lied before. It was probably an omen, not what it appeared. It had been many years since he’d almost had a wet dream, and it would be bad timing to start having them now. He flung open the leather flap and drew a lungful of the crisp pre-dawn air, bending to exit the dark, overheated lodge.

  He had spent the last two days on the high sandstone plateau in his search for answers. Answers about the strange restlessness that had roiled around inside him for months now. His spirit was usually so calm that he figured he was close to dead. And what answers had the spirits given him to his questions? His voice was rough from lack of use as he laughed aloud. In the swirling mists of steam and sage smoke, they had sent him an image of a naked woman. And what a woman… Maybe old Joe was right. Maybe the restlessness that plagued him had less to do with his weary spirit and more to do with his horny body.

  “I ask you for direction and you send me a porno movie?” He shook his head and lifted his arms wide to greet the rising sun. “Are you playing tricks with me now, Great One? Have I come to the end of my use to you? Are you telling me that my days of celibacy and dedication to your cause will soon end?” I doubt that, but I can always hope.

  He closed his eyes and turned to greet the North wind. It cooled his overheated flesh but had little effect on the painful erection his dream had gifted him with. “Even you cannot cool my need? Are you all ganging up on me?”

  As he turned to the west and considered the high spires of the wind towers of the Old Ones, he smiled tightly. “You conspire against me as well, my friends?”

  The moaning of the morning wind thro
ugh the sandstone formations seemed to mock him as he turned last to the South wind and shook his damp hair back from his perspiration-wet face. “Then let it be so. It has been a long and lonely journey. But I seriously doubt the woman in my dream would look twice at one like me.” No woman had ever seen him as a man.

  Only as a thing to be afraid of. To run and hide from.

  He relieved himself in the latrine he had created by digging out a crevice in the sandstone and filling it with earth and crushed sage. He walked to the battered canteen hanging on the side pole of the lodge and took a deep drink, then poured a cooling trickle over his sweat-streaked face. He rolled up the sides of the lodge and put out the small fire that he’d used to heat the rocks. Reaching for the small medicine pouch that contained his animal totems, he tied it snugly about his throat to avoid losing it in flight…then he crouched and freed his eagle form.

  In seconds he was airborne, stretching his wings wide to catch the updrafts from the valley below. He flew in a wide circle, making sure that the land was safe from intruders, still bothered by the visions in his medicine dream. As his circle took him back toward the little cabin he had built long ago to provide shelter for his man form, he sensed that this day would bring something unexpected. Something important.

  He caught sight of a jackrabbit leaping through the sage brush far off to the west and thought of his pinched stomach. Thoughts of women and demons vanished as he made an arrow of his body and plummeted earthward to snatch his breakfast. He filled his belly and changed to his man form to bathe in the narrow creek that trickled from his little reservoir. Cooled and refreshed, he took to the air once more. He did his best thinking with the wind in his feathers and the sun on his back.

  He spent many hours in flight, circling the sacred valleys and pinnacles until the need for food and rest once again drew him from his thoughts and made him swing south toward his cabin. Raw meat was fine for his eagle, but his man form had a craving for a can of hot chili and a mug of cold coffee. There were a few things that drew him back to his man form, and Texas red chili was one of them.

  The sun was tilting into the horizon and far below, in the windswept grass, the sunlight gleamed off chrome on the trail to his place, and he floated on the updrafts for a few moments, not quite believing his eyes.

  The sight of a tall, voluptuous woman standing on the dusty black SUV’s luggage rack piqued his curiosity as he hovered above. She moved from the rack to the hood as he watched. He let out a sharp cry and his heart beat faster as she jerked her gaze up to him. Time seemed to stop as he hovered there, unable to fly away. Something flickered to life in his breast. He could sense her thoughts. Shock replaced the amazement and he shook off the feeling of déjà vu.

  She thinks I’m beautiful.

  He circled high, then dipped off to the west to head for the low sandstone cave where he kept a spare set of clothes. He was used to seeing tourists up closer to Arches or Canyon Lands or as far south as the Valley of the Sun, but no one ever came onto his property uninvited. He kept it hidden with small magics. The fact that she had wandered so far from the state road told him that she’d known where she was headed. She’d appeared to be looking for his cabin. That could only mean that the old man had sent her. The old medicine man was always trying to hook him up. Thought Zeke needed a woman. But that was a lost cause and someday Joe might accept that fact. No woman wanted a big, hulking, viciously scarred man.

  Who just happens to be a ’walker—something considered unnatural and inhuman.

  The cave was untouched since his last visit. Usually he would just fly to the cabin and return to his man form there, but with a stranger close by he had to be more circumspect. Didn’t want to scare the shit out of a guest. Even an uninvited one.

  He returned to his man form in the mouth of the small cave. The roof was too low for him to stand up straight, so he dressed quickly, dumping a homesteading scorpion from one of his boot mocs before tugging it on. He dragged his fingers through his heavy black hair, pulling it back from his face to tie it with a leather thong. He touched the medicine pouch at his throat, thanking the eagle spirit for his wings and speed. He covered the cave’s entrance once again before he broke into an easy, ground-swallowing run back toward his place.

  It wasn’t a long way to his cabin. Normally he preferred to run naked, but he didn’t suppose a Łigai Izdzán would feel comfortable if a strange man appeared out of nowhere stark naked. He didn’t want to send the nice Anglo woman screaming back to her car. If anything, his looks would do that without adding his intimidating nudity.

  As he approached the cabin, he could see the big Caddy SUV parked in the long grass. He could smell the acrid stench of burnt oil and hot metal. He could smell his visitor’s barely-there floral perfume, and her sweet female sweat. He caught a tantalizing whiff of her warm skin, the mint toothpaste she’d used that morning…and the frustration that bled off her in waves. She was not a happy camper. He moved silently as he stepped onto the porch. The soft soles of his mocs made no sound. The door was ajar and he gently shoved it wider, leaning against the worn frame as his eyes slid appreciatively over the curvy woman who was rifling through his old chest of drawers, her slim hands holding up a pair of his well-worn boxers. He barely held back a groan. If the thought of a woman in his place hadn’t already given him the hard-on from hell, the sight of her fondling his shorts definitely would have.

  Zeke Itsá Łigai had lived alone out here for a damn long time. It felt unreal to see a woman standing here. His cock rose to greet her. He clenched his teeth to keep from groaning at the pain it gave him. His old, worn jeans suddenly seemed way too fucking tight.

  He swallowed the thickness in his throat but his long-unused voice still seemed to be someone else’s when he spoke. She jerked upright and whirled so quickly that those long, coltish legs got all tangled up and she nearly tumbled onto his bed. The mental image of her sprawled across his bed left him even harder.

  His dream. Definitely not Anglo.

  He noted those wide, chocolate-brown eyes and the delicious blush that suffused her sun-kissed cheeks, coming up from the neckline of her sweat-damp shirt. Native American. Not Navajo or Zuni. Certainly not Apache. More likely Northern Plains. Maybe Cheyenne. Maybe Sioux. But it didn’t matter. She was so far out of his league, it seriously sucked. Just his luck to find a woman in his place and know she wasn’t one he could ever hope to have.

  Yet…

  His mouth watered for a taste of that soft, perfect skin. He slowly eased his body away from the door frame and watched her lift her hands to her cheeks as if to cool them. But it wasn’t fear in her eyes. It was something else entirely. And those eyes lit a fire deep in his belly.

  “Oh God. You live here?” Her voice was a rich contralto with a refined accent. He nodded, taking a slow step through the open door before easing it closed, leaving the interior of his cabin in semi-darkness. He could sense the hectic emotions rising in her. The heat of her racing pulse. The warm scent of her hair. The heady, sweet musk of her body. He inhaled deeply. Panic and arousal warred inside her for supremacy. Arousal. Something he had never before scented on a woman who had looked at him.

  Surprisingly, she seemed to like what she saw, but she was afraid as well. Now that was his normal effect on women. Usually the fear won. And when that happened, he wouldn’t stand a chance. He wasn’t good with women. He wanted to ask why she had come. He couldn’t make his words come out right as those beautiful eyes moved rapidly down his body and back to his face. He calmed his instincts, because they didn’t make sense—his instincts told him she was there for him.

  That she was his.

  His body felt hot and it seemed like he was about to bust open into a million pieces. Joe must have sent her to him. The old medicine man had been bugging the shit out of him for years to open his mind and heart and seek his other half.

  He almost laughed at that idea. There was no other half for him.He’d never once been with a woman. Women were
scared shitless of him. He’d learned his place in the world long ago. He’d learned that there was no woman who would accept him…could accept him, or what he was. He had figured that he was destined to use his hand and his desperate imagination for eternity.

  Zeke rarely went into town. He saw many women, but the sight of his ravaged face combined with his massive, menacing body was often enough to terrify them into running in the opposite direction. He had learned to accept the feeling of rejection long ago.

  And those of his tribe avoided him like the plague.

  He closed his eyes and listened to the swift beat of her heart.

  Arousal.

  His body responded to the sound.

  Arousal is good.

  Arousal he could handle. He saw her spread before him in his mind.

  Her delicious, warm voice interrupted his lustful thoughts.

  “I—I’m sure there’s just been some silly mistake.” Her slim hands were in front of her, palms out, as she spoke. As if that would prevent him from reaching out and dragging her into his arms. Obviously she sensed his preoccupation with those gorgeous tits…

  “The old man told me the cabin was empty. I—I must have found the wrong cabin. I would leave right now, but I’m afraid my rented car won’t start. Do you have a car? Can you jump the battery for me?” Her words were breathy and agitated, but there was something else there. He lifted his eyes from her breasts and met her wide gaze. Damn, but he’d love to jump something of hers. He ignored her question. He didn’t want her to leave. The fucking car could stay right where it was.

  “You aren’t afraid of me?” His voice sounded rough, even to himself. If she stayed much longer, he might not be able to resist her, as deliciously sweet as she smelled.

  Chellie drew in a deep breath. OMG! The mouthwatering smell of rich red earth and fresh air and sage and some sort of heady herb filled her nostrils. Was that him? She should be terrified but she was actually aroused by the way he’d closed the cabin door and now stood there, as if waiting to pounce.