Killing Time (41 page)

It was the latter that led James and Evie, reluctantly, to leave for a week. I only realized after they’d gone that my friends had restocked the pantry. Exhausted by the short round-trip there and back, I slumped on the sofa. Not quite so numb as before, my thoughts began to wander. Still resolutely avoiding any paths that would lead to Koda, I began to consider what to do with myself. Surely, I couldn’t stay here forever. But without the plan that had always provided direction for me, I was rudderless. Adrift.

I ought to have felt triumphant. The four things I’d worked toward had come to pass.

Philippe was out of the picture, leaving his anarchistic vampires leaderless.

Cian was dead and the Huntsman didn’t know I was the one responsible. I took the fact that I was still breathing as proof.

Reiden was dead. At least, I thought he was. There’d been no sign of him since Halloween.

And I figured the lords were either dead or would be soon, busily assassinating rivals in their bloody efforts to take the throne. While I’d’ve preferred to be the cause, the fact that they were killing each other was strangely satisfying. As well, I reasoned that the unrest was preventing Berand from hunting us for killing Reiden. In life, a king whose cruelty enforced his rule and in death, inspired zero loyalty. Not only would Berand want to ensure his own holdings remained secure, he was also a profiteer at heart. I had no doubt he was enjoying the sycophants who sought his favor with the hope he’d support their bid for the throne.

Bitterns’ lot hadn’t changed, though. If anything, it would be worse in the coming years as the kiths fought for supremacy.

But, hey, I’d gotten pretty much everything else I’d hoped for. I should be happy, right?

Yeah. Right.

It’s just…I’d never considered what would happen afterward. The possibility of an “after” had seemed impossible to even contemplate. Now that I was living it, I didn’t have a clue what to do with myself. It was mostly this that left me rudderless.

Mostly.

I continued resolutely not thinking about…
him.

Late one afternoon, insistent scratching at the door made me open my eyes. Staring at the solid oak, I idly wondered how long it would take before the intruder gave up and went away. After the square of sunshine on the wood floor had traveled from one end of the room to the other and the scratching didn’t let up, I dragged myself off the sofa to open the door. Brother Wolf glared up at me, his golden eyes sharp with anger.

Growling, he took my hand carefully in his teeth and tugged. Not caring enough to resist, I went along with him. The wolf led me far out onto the prairie and it took a while for me to realize that he’d let go, that I was walking under my own steam.

Stopping, I tilted my head back, feeling the sun’s winter warmth on my face. The air had grown colder, but the wind was gentle today and we’d still not had snow. There was a crispness to the air that made me wonder if this might change soon.

Shivering, I looked down at myself. Making a face that I still wore the black turtleneck and jeans, I met the wolf’s gaze. His curled lip told me I smelled as rank as I thought. Maybe worse.

Shaking off the last of the mental and emotional cobwebs, I caught another whiff of myself. Curling my own lip, I turned my face into the clean breeze and headed back to the cabin with a purpose.

I’d start with a shower and a change of clothes. Then I’d build a fire in the fireplace and make a decent meal. With my newfound determination, I’d even get a decent night’s sleep.

Because tomorrow, I was going to the reservation.

I parked the dirt bike next to the tribal office building, a low wooden structure that had seen better days.

I’d ridden over here expecting a fight…and halfway hoping for one. Anger simmered inside me, waiting to blow.

A cold breeze teased my hair and I hunched a little deeper into the thick red sweater and jeans I had on. Having found a box of Zih…geez. I still hadn’t gotten the hang of not thinking a dead person’s name. Having found a box of
her
clothes at the cabin, I no longer had issues with staying decently dressed. It was kinda nice having one less thing to worry about. Not for the first time, I wondered what—ah…crap!
His
fiancée had been like.

Rusty hinges screeched, drawing me back to the here and now. Waneta came out, the wooden porch creaking as he made his way down the stairs.

“You are well?” the old man asked, lowering himself carefully to sit on the top step.

Startled by his courteous tone, I shrugged. Now that I was here, I wasn’t sure what to say. Especially since this hadn’t started off the way I’d expected. It was hard launching into the argument I wanted without the aggression I’d anticipated. That I’d counted on.

Waneta’s rheumy gaze met mine. “I do not wish to violate your mourning period, but would speak with you if you permit it.”

I blinked. “Mourning?”

“Once I let myself look, I could see that your heart was his. Losing such love is a hard thing.”

I flinched. “You think Koda is dead?”

It was Waneta’s turn to flinch at my naming someone he clearly assumed was no longer among the living. “You do not?”

My voice was curt. “No.”

Out of nowhere, a hawk flew over my shoulder to land on the dirt bike’s handlebars. When I glanced at it, the huge bird made a chuckling sound and fluffed its feathers. Nonplussed, I looked up at the sky, wondering if something else was going to swoop down.

Waneta studied me, a soft smile creasing his lined cheeks. “I have lived a long life and seen much, but I never imagined so many changes could come to pass so quickly.” He fell silent, lost in his own thoughts. “So many changes. One day, the very government that drove all of us to ruin seeks our guidance. Then the United Nations invites me to speak in open session. A fellow from
National Geographic
wants an interview on supernatural cultures. Four of our elders have been asked to address the burgeoning ranks of Wiccans rallying in Seattle’s City Center in three weeks’ time.” Bemused, he shook his head.

Uncertain, I watched him as he laughed like a much younger man.

“So many changes,” he said again.

Three sparrows fluttered down from the roof to perch on the porch rail a foot from me. Chirping merrily, they kept a careful eye on the enormous raptor to my left. Under Waneta’s gaze, I made myself look bland, like this sort of thing happened all the time.

His weathered face creased in a brief smile as he held very still, watching the little birds. Then his expression sobered. “Not all change is good, however. Humans live in terror and lights burn in every house, in every building, all night long. No one walks alone anymore. Not in the cities, not in the country. Gun shops’ shelves are empty, the stores selling out of weapons and ammunition just as fast as new shipments come in.”

I looked at the old man. “That can’t surprise you.”

His gaze flicked to me as if surprised that I’d spoken. “‘Civilized’ people are still adjusting to the world as it is, not as they thought they had made it.”

My voice was wry. “I suspect being at the bottom of the food chain will do that to you.”

Waneta nodded. “The world’s greatest diplomats are trying to reach peaceable solutions, even as their governments deploy troops to areas with the highest supernatural concentrations. Martial law, rampant paranoia, unchecked violence, mob mentality. The world is poised for a war unlike any it’s ever known and my people are right in the middle of it.”

My heart thudded painfully. “
Koda
is in the middle of it too.”

“I tell you everything is falling apart and you think only of your lost man.” Waneta’s tone was weary, like he’d hoped for better from me.

Embarrassed and angry, I snapped, “His name is Koda. Why do you keep insisting that he’s de…not coming back?”

Waneta’s manner softened. “It is the way of the anzhenii. If your man still lives and has not returned, it means he has not yet chosen his path. He must decide whether to follow his brothers or to make his own way without them.”

“But I stopped him from joining the ghost-people. He did decide.”

The old man shook his head. “If you kept him back from our ancestors, then he did not decide. You did.”

Stunned, I stared at Waneta. “Did I make things worse?” My voice sounded like I was being strangled from the inside.

“No, daughter. It may be that you gave him the time he needed to make a better decision. If he still wanders this world, then he may yet come back to you.”

I swallowed hard, torn between the need to search for Koda—although I had no idea where to begin looking—and anxiety that he’d choose to follow his brother rather than continue as the last of his line. I could do nothing about either, so I focused instead on Waneta’s words. “I am called Sephti. Why did you address me as ‘daughter’?”

The old man actually blushed. “It is a term of affection toward a young woman. I meant no offense.”

“Affection?” I echoed the word wonderingly.

“You have done much for our people, despite our initial anger and mistrust.” A smile lit his eyes. “Why would we not feel favorably toward you in return?”

I thought about that, watching two more little birds join the others on the banister. The hawk clacked its beak together, making the sparrows flinch.

“Koda’s other brothers were killed by fae too, Just like Aha…” I stopped myself. “Weren’t they?”

Waneta nodded. “Would you walk with me? I wish to show you something.”

I joined the old man as he led the way down the narrow road to the open area where I’d first met him. I wasn’t really surprised when the hawk took wing. A second later, another raptor joined the first. The sparrows flitted from rooftop to rooftop pacing Waneta and me, the little birds keeping a wary eye fixed on the circling hunters. Out on the prairie, a wolf howled.

The chief stopped, tipping his head to indicate a small knot of people walking at a respectful distance behind a stoop-shouldered man, his long white braids trailing in the breeze. In each hand, he carried an eagle feather and his steps were measured, careful. When I realized he was performing some kind of a ritual, I averted my gaze. It felt wrong to watch. Like what he was doing was too sacred for casual observation.

Waneta’s eyes lit up as if I’d confirmed something for him. “You respect our ways.”

Bewildered that he’d care, I nodded. “Yes. Of course.”

“That is good.” He smiled to himself. “That is very good.”

Clearing my throat, I asked, “Was this some sort of test?”

He looked almost sheepish. “I think you have a great purpose to fulfill, daughter. I think you must serve as a conduit between humans and fae-based supernaturals.”

My head snapped up and I stared at him, surprised.

Everything Evie and James had persistently told me about the world’s unrest had percolated in the back of my mind. Some time during my fog on the sofa, it had occurred to me that no one on the mortal plane knew as much about fae creatures as I did. So I’d come to Tallgrass today to demand that Waneta introduce me to the U.S. president’s representatives. I wanted to join the coming battle. Hell…I wanted to
lead
it.

Before I could tell Waneta this, he held up a quelling hand.

“I mention it only so you will think on it. Today is not for serious words between us. It is time to look forward. We have been given an opportunity to craft our people’s future. The prophecy has come true and tonight, we celebrate both it and our recent victory.” Waneta turned to face me. “Join us not as our guest, but as one of us. Let us welcome you properly.”

This really floored me. Not only were we not going to argue, not only did he want to give me what I’d come to demand—he just didn’t know it yet—but he was inviting me to join his people. “Um…”

“Please. Your man thought well of us. Why not get to know us better?”

That shook the cobwebs loose. Gritting my teeth, I glared at Waneta. “
Koda thinks
well. Stop talking about him like he’s dead.”

“Peace, daughter.” The old man bowed his head and his voice became rough. “I have known your Koda since I was a little boy. He watched over my parents and theirs, going back more generations than recorded history counts. I pray that you are right and that he will return.”

My eyes misted and I made a study of the hawks high overhead, idly noticing that a third had joined the first two. Changing the subject, I tried for a casual air. “I don’t have anything to wear to a celebration.”

Waneta chuckled. “Our senior women will take care of that.”

Standing in the flickering golden glow of several bonfires, I tugged self-consciously at the fringed shawl draped across my shoulders.

“I feel like a spectacle,” I muttered.

Hannah Red Bird, a tiny white-haired elder who couldn’t have weighed more than ninety pounds, peered up at me. Her black eyes were sharp and bright with laughter. “We should call you Twitches a Lot.”

Sue Whirlwind grinned, playfully tugging at my braided hair. “Can’t Stand Still.”

“No, she is Fussy Old Woman,” another said, giggling.

I had to laugh at their good-natured teasing, which had begun the moment Waneta left me in Hannah’s eager care. The way she and her friends had descended upon me had been more frightening than any assortment of swordsmen I’d ever faced. But in no time, I was laughing along with them as they sized me up for the proper clothes and fussed and clucked over my flyaway hair. Sue had re-braided it four times since the silky strands kept escaping and refused to contain the white feathers she insisted I wear.

The entire experience had been a revelation to me. Not only for the women’s unstinting generosity and kindness, or how willingly they’d welcomed me into their midst. I’d also been surprised by how much the Sioux laughed, by the great joy these amazing people shared with one another. That they’d extended their warmth to me left me stunned and deeply touched.

Hannah gave me a toothy smile. “You look lovely.”

When I blushed, the others took turns gently teasing me and I had to laugh again at their playfulness.