Soul Whisperer (7 page)

“I don't believe that.”

“They do. They all do. I lost my mother and my father and my little brother all in one day. I wish I could tell him…?.” His voice failed him and he rubbed his knuckles over his mouth while he composed himself. “I wish I had let him up in that damn tree house. It was such a pointless way to die.”

“Cesar, it was an accident.”

He tapped his index finger on the lip of the saucer, impatient at being told the obvious. “I know that.” He hadn't meant for his voice to sound so sharp. He reined himself in. “Accidents can be prevented. I could have…” He shook his head. Carlos was gone and he couldn't do a damned thing about it, then or now.

His stomach heaved and he realized he was a breath away from humiliating himself by puking. He clamped a hand to his mouth, pinched his eyes closed and swallowed hard.

Cesar's other hand remained on the table and it was a small reach for Bess to place hers upon it. Sympathy danced over him like warm summer rain. Their eyes met.

She sat back. He watched her hand retreating to her side of the table.

“Thanks,” he said.

She nodded.

He noticed his damned hands were shaking. He drew them around the coffee cup.

Bess's shoulders were uncharacteristically hunched over and she looked grim as if bone-weary from what he had told her or was it from what she had felt when she touched him? When she touched him again, he'd take back his memory.

“You're very hard on yourself. Teenagers make mistakes. It's what they do best. They are also self-absorbed. It's hardly surprising that you were not mindful of Carlos's needs. Your brother would not want you to hurt like this.”

“His pain was worse.”

She stared at him with those dark eyes, wide and full of compassion. “If you could speak to him, what would you say?”

“What difference does that make now?”

“Humor me.”

“I'd ask his forgiveness. I'd tell him I miss him still.” How he got the words past the squeezing fingers of grief that clamped around his vocal cords, he did not know.

Bess leaned forward, reaching across the white linen tablecloth to grasp his hand. He met her partway, allowing himself to experience the gentle comfort of her touch. Just a moment longer, he told himself, knowing that while he was bathed in her compassion, she suffered the burden of the visceral pain tearing through him.

He stroked his thumb over her knuckles and closed his eyes, searching for where she had hidden their conversation, finding it easily. Then he concentrated on
calling the energy back to him. An instant later he pulled back, forcing a smile.

“How do you feel?” he asked. He knew the process of retrieving a memory could leave the other person feeling momentarily disoriented or even sick.

“Fine. Well, sad, of course.”

Some people retained the emotion of the conversation if not the details, so her feelings were hardly a surprise.

She gave him a quizzical look. No wonder, since she likely didn't recall the past several minutes.

“How's that cobbler?”

She frowned. “I'm not sure… Cesar, are you all right?”

“Me? Why?” He held his brittle smile like a mask before him, but the dread was already creeping through him like poison.

“Because I don't understand. One moment you are telling me about your little brother and the next you're asking me about cobbler.”

S
he remembered all of it. Cesar fell back in his seat so hard that the wood gave way. The crack sounded like a rifle report and the vibrations seemed to reverberate in his ears like white noise.

He couldn't take it back.

The realization slapped him in the guts. His mouth went dry as he hardened his lips into a grim, tight line and straightened.

“Cesar? You've gone pale.”

He sat like a store mannequin, rigid, frozen. What had he just done? Revealed a secret to a woman who hated him. Given an enemy power over him.

Bess suddenly seemed preoccupied with her cobbler. He noted she didn't eat, but just prodded, succeeding in getting the insides to spill out.

She did not look up as she asked her next question.

“Did you try to take the memory, Cesar?”

When their eyes met he saw the accusation there. She was smart, this one. She would make a marvelous ally and a terrible enemy.

“I didn't know I could not take it back.”

“So this is some game you play. Confessing your secrets and then stealing them back?”

When he first touched her he discovered that he couldn't use his Truth Seeking gift on her. Why had he assumed that his Memory Walking would work on her? Had his need to unburden himself so blinded him that he could not see the real possibility that she would recall everything?

“I've never spoken of this to anyone.”

She nodded her acceptance of this. “I'm not sure that counts since you believed I wouldn't remember.”

He had just wanted to connect with another like him, if only for a moment. But his attempt had backfired, exploding in his face like a mortar.

Bess lifted a scoop of cobbler onto her fork. “Seems you'll have to deal with the fallout.”

She slipped the bite of red cobbler into her mouth. It appeared she had trouble swallowing. It made him pause to study her reaction, instead of dwelling on his own. Upset, he decided, judging from the erratic pulse of her aura. But was she upset by what he had just tried to pull or by what he had revealed? He didn't know but was quite certain she wouldn't let him touch her right now.

Bess set her fork upon the plate and gave the dish a little nudge away from her. Then she lifted her dark eyes to him.

“I've spoiled your appetite.”

She didn't deny it.

“Do you pray for him?”

They both knew that to enter the Spirit World a man or woman must walk the Red Road and live a life of balance and responsibility to oneself, one's community and to the earth. Otherwise a soul was condemned to the Circle of Ghosts. Once there, only time and the earnest prayers of the living might bring release. Was she implying that Carlos needed his prayers?

“He was ten. What sins could he have had?”

“Just a question.”

She could find Carlos, he realized. Sweat popped out on Cesar's face, drenched his back and armpits. She could actually speak to him. Cesar's ears buzzed again. He was unsure if he wanted to ask her to do that. He did not want to be in her debt, nor was he certain he could bear to hear from his brother. His heart seemed to shrink into a hard lump, like a clod of cold mud.

“I pray for him every day.” He lifted the cup and drained the contents. It was dark and bitter, like his thoughts.

Cesar bobbled the cup and it clattered to the saucer. Bess said nothing.

The waiter presented the bill and he offered his card. He was helping Bess on with her coat, which had reappeared, when the card was returned and they headed out.

Cesar offered Bess his elbow, uneasy now, as if the ground beneath him was no longer level. He tried to suppress his surprise when she took it.

It was so unexpected to have someone know what he was and still not flinch when he touched her. He let his fingers brush her neck, experiencing again the electric sizzle that passed between them. What was that, anyway?

He lifted his cell phone but she shook her head.

“Let's walk a bit.”

“The air is damp and you need to take it easy.” She didn't argue but simply withdrew her arm and turned away from the road, walking down the pier. The woman was obviously used to doing as she liked.

He walked at her side, breathing in the salty mist that made the lights hazy. When they reached the end, they stood side by side. The waves slapped against the pylons with a rhythmic thrum he could feel through the soles of his shoes. The motion reminded him of the pounding rhythm of sex. He checked to see if Bess was shivering, but she seemed warmer than he was. She stood with her nose lifted to the wind, which blew her thick hair out behind her in an undulating black curtain of silk.

“So when do you use this Memory Walking, exactly?” she asked.

He hesitated, preparing to lie out of habit and then deciding to tell her. “Mostly after examining witnesses for investigations I don't want humans to remember. You have the same law. Humans can't find out about us.”

She stared at him, her head cocked in a way that did remind him of a bird. Her face glowed pale in the high florescent lights of the pier, making her aura invisible to him. An inky lock of hair blew beneath her nose for a moment before she tucked it behind her ear.

“What about on Skinwalkers?”

“Before tonight, I never tried Memory Walking on one.”

“You've never apprehended one?”

He wondered if she noticed his hesitation before he shook his head. It was true. He'd never apprehended one. But it was only part of the truth.

“And if you did?”

“If apprehended, I'd turn them over to your people by arrangement in the treaty. Human criminals are delivered to their judicial system. Niyanoka are remanded to our legal system—”

She interrupted. “I'll bet that doesn't happen a lot.”

Did she mean that Skinwalkers weren't turned over or that Niyanoka were not prosecuted? Either way, she was right. He hoped his aura wasn't showing his discomfort and inched farther into the circle of artificial light. Bess knew too much about him already. He didn't want her to know about the only time he'd taken a Skinwalker alive and then failed to deliver the suspect.

“Not often,” he admitted.

Her smile was knowing and still it caused a tiny jolt in his heart, like an electrical charge.

“I expected you to lie.”

But he hadn't. How did she know?

He tried for a smile, hoping she wouldn't notice it didn't reach his eyes or his heart. He didn't enjoy being interrogated and was not accustomed to answering questions. So he tried for a distraction, an amusing anecdote after which he'd steer them back to his car or leave her here.

“I nearly caught a Supernatural once.”

“You've faced Supernaturals?”

Did that impress her? He realized he wanted to.

“Once.”

Bess's eyes widened. “Which one?”

“Ksa, Goddess of Water. She brought a terrible storm and I had to confront her.”

“She could have killed you.”

He shrugged. “Worse things than that.”

Bess knew this all too well.

“Trouble was half a dozen people on the waterfront saw her, right out in the bay, riding an orca.” Bess winced.

“Took some doing to erase all that.”

There, he'd taken control again and ceased her endless questions.

“Do you use your memory gift with your lovers?”

The smile died upon his lips, but there was no hesitation in his answer. “No.”

“But you could?”

“It's unethical.”

“What about when you tire of them and they won't go away like good little girls, and instead they get attached, leave their cosmetics in your medicine cabinet and start shopping for engagement rings?”

“I do what every other man does.”

“What's that?”

“Make sure they find me with another woman.”

Bess laughed and nodded. “I've done that, too, but only with the stubborn ones. You can't let them stay too long. They notice we don't age and start asking questions we can't answer.”

Cesar could feel his own pain as he considered parting from Bess and he hadn't even managed to slip around with her between his satin sheets.

She stuck her hands in her pockets and continued to the end of the pier. He kept pace with her. “Did you ever stay with one too long?”

“No. My affairs are very brief. You?” he asked.

“Yes, usually. Ours will be, as well.”

That did not disappoint him very much as it meant she was planning to have an affair with him. He'd begun to doubt she would. Cesar cautioned himself not
to do a fist pump as she faced him, looking him dead in the eye.

“Don't even think about falling in love with me, Cesar, because I'm not going there. I don't do attachments, especially with a Spirit Child.”

He scowled, lowering his chin like a bull preparing to charge. She had quite an ego on her. “I don't even like you.”

“That's not a requirement.”

“Maybe
you'll
fall in love with
me
.”

“Don't count on it.”

He leaned in, his nose almost touching hers. “So how's about we just stick to what interests us both and sleep together. I don't know if it's because you're a Skinwalker or what, but I've never wanted anyone more. Have you?”

“Flattering, but…”

He grasped her arm and turned her to face him, demanding an answer. “Have you?”

She broke the contact of their eyes. “No. Never. It scares me.”

“Thrill is how I would describe it.”

“But what is it? I don't know and neither do you. It could be dangerous.”

“Or extremely arousing.”

She gave her head a little sideward nod as if conceding his point. Then she placed her hand on his arm, silently demanding that he release her. He didn't want to and hesitated a moment too long, for her expression went black as her aura turned from brown to red. He let her go, dropping his hands to his sides.

She stared out over the dark water. When he remembered that she could throw herself from the pier and into the air, he inched closer, cautioning himself not
to say anything else to upset her. He wanted, no, that wasn't right, he needed to get her back to his place.

He tried persuasion. “You're as aroused as I am. I can see that pulsing bright pink aura from a block away.”

She smiled. “Yes, but unlike a man, I can resist temptation. And unlike a human, I follow my instincts. Ravens are not known for being reckless, and sleeping with you feels reckless to me. I'll pass for now.”

He needed her now and would not let her just slip away from him.

“You can't resist this,” he insisted, reaching for her.

Bess took a step backward, off the pier, falling down toward the icy water of San Francisco Bay.

He dropped to his knees and watched her descent. There was a flash of brilliant white light, as if St. Elmo's fire burned beneath the pier and then a raven glided below him, dark wings against dark water.

It seemed that Bess could resist temptation after all.

 

Bess dipped low over the churning water. She'd slept with men for many reasons, loneliness mostly, and grief and the need to be touched. But the raw passion that Cesar Garza roused in her was angry red and pulsing like a thumb struck with a hammer. She knew she couldn't ignore it for long. No matter which way she turned it was there in the promise in dark eyes, the half smile of his sensual mouth and the aura that reached out to hers before he did.

Perilous. That was what this was. What if she slept with him and it didn't go away? What if it got worse?

She veered right, away from the city and toward the cool, soothing darkness of the Redwood Forest. She didn't need him. Surely this would pass in time.

It had to. Dark clouds streaked across the moon, casting their edges in silver as she swept from the bay to the hills beyond. She flew deep into the old-growth forest, briefly considering staying in her lodge, which was only a few miles from this spot. Her retreat was large, secluded and fully stocked. But finally she rejected the idea because she needed to stay in her animal form. Here she had more control of her impulses for Cesar. If she changed back, she'd turn right around and take him up on his offer.

She perched in the top branches of the tallest tree, gazing out over the canopy stretched out before her. She could hear the campers in the state forest, their voices low as they sat in circles, huddled about their little fires. They didn't know what was out there tonight.

Bess thought about the strange gray newborns that had nearly outflown a raven. She ruffled her feathers, allowing them to settle back in place. She did not like the new, vulnerable feeling wriggling in her belly. This was her forest and she would not tremble like a rabbit in the grass, or look over her shoulder when she landed to drink at a stream. They did not belong here. So she must drive them out. And that meant finding out what they were. If it would help her be free of the intruders, she would even work with Garza, but only in order to be rid of those things. Yes, that was the reason she must see him again.

But she could not go on her journey to the Way of Souls tonight. The short flight across the bay had confirmed her fears. She was still weak from the blood loss. She would have to be patient as her body replaced the vital fluids. In a day or two she would be strong enough.

So in the meantime, should she stay here with those gray demons or occupy herself with Cesar Garza?

Bess listened to the unfamiliar sounds below her, a sort of scratching combined with a low growl. Never before was there a sound here that she could not instantly identify. She craned her neck to look behind her as she remembered how fast the one climbed the tree. The starlight glinted off dark branches. This place, cradled high in the redwood pines, always brought her the peace of knowing her predators could not reach her. But now they could. The damn things could fly.