Chaos Bites (3 page)

“Maybe this is what she wanted.” Gently Luther settled the blanket over the baby.

Light flashed so brightly the entire sky seemed to fill with it. In my arms the child shifted and wriggled. I tightened my grip, afraid she’d slip free.

“Shh,” I murmured, hoping to keep her from crying again.

Meow,
she said.

I looked down. I now held a fuzzy black kitten.

A police car turned left at the single flashing streetlight and rolled in our direction. With only three thousand people in our tiny suburb on the river, and most of those fairly wealthy two-career families and their kids, the cops had little to do in Friedenberg beyond harass the teenagers and chat with the populace. While a kitten would be a lot easier to explain than a baby, and our guns were safely out of sight in the basket, I still hurried toward the back door.

Though I’d been one once, cops now made me nervous, perhaps because I was breaking the law daily. And I wasn’t jaywalking or parking in a red zone. I was committing murder, with a little fraud and sometimes a kidnapping on the side. Explaining that the “people” I’d killed weren’t people would only get me locked up in a mental institution instead of the women’s state prison.

Sure, I could get out. Wouldn’t take much effort at all. If I became an escaped convict, however, I’d have not only the Nephilim after me but local law enforcement, too. Once I crossed state lines, the feds would get involved, and we’d have chaos on multiple fronts.

I needed to have unimpeded freedom to move across the country by any means necessary, including air travel. Which meant having my name and face on a “most wanted” list was not the way to go.

I clattered up the steps, then closed and locked the door. The kitten squirmed, and when I held her more tightly, she scratched me, so I put her down. She promptly scooted under the bed.

“I guess we don’t have to wonder whose kid that is.”

Luther seemed a little shook up. His eyes were huge, and he kept glancing at the place the kitten had disappeared as if he expected her to crawl back out—on human hands and knees. Maybe she would. I found his nervousness strange considering he’d seen people turn into all sorts of things. Of course he’d never seen a baby turn into a kitten.

Neither had I.

I tossed the blanket and the now empty pink diaper onto the table. “Guess not.”

“What do you think her name is?”

As if he were speaking right next to me, I heard again Sawyer’s words.
Protect that gift of—

“Faith,” I blurted. “Her name’s Faith.”

“You sure?”

I sighed. “Yeah.”

“Who’s her mama?”

“Got me.” With Sawyer, could be damn near anyone.

“You think she brought Faith here?” Luther continued.

“Her mother?” I frowned. “Why would she?” Luther’s bony, leonine shoulders shifted beneath his skin as he shrugged. “Maybe she’s in trouble.”

“Join the club,” I muttered, contemplating the set of eyes shining beneath the bed. In the instant before she’d leaped from my arms I’d seen that those eyes were gray, like Sawyer’s. “What am I going to do with a baby?”

“Protect her.” I narrowed my gaze on Luther, who held up his hands in surrender. “Aren’t you?”

“Of course. But—”

There were half demons all over the place that needed killing. I couldn’t cart around a baby while doing that. I supposed I could wrap her in the blanket then put her in a cage.

I winced. Or not.

“Get Ruthie,” I ordered.

Luther didn’t argue. He merely closed his eyes and did whatever it was that he had to do to bring her forth. Seconds later, when Luther opened those eyes, Ruthie stared out.

It was the strangest thing. Luther’s gaze was hazel, amber when his lion threatened, but when he channeled Ruthie his irises went deep brown. He moved differently, too—no longer the broad hand movements and rapid footsteps of a teenage boy, but the graceful gestures and measured gait of an old woman.

“I was just gonna come to you, child.” Ruthie’s voice flowed out of Luther’s mouth.

“Why?”

“Found us another skinwalker. His name is Sani.”

Sawyer’s knowledge of magic had died with him. I might now possess his power, but I had no clue how to use it. Hence Ruthie’s search for another of my kind. Sawyer had been able to talk to the dead, and right now . . . I really needed to.

“Man taught Sawyer everything he knew,” she continued.

“The guy’s still alive?” Since Sawyer was ancient, Sani had to be Mesozoic.

Ruthie gave me a long look out of Luther’s face. A skinwalker only died if he chose to, therefore most of them were probably older than the hills—literally.

“How do I find him?” I asked.

“Take a right at the Badlands and don’t stop until you hit the Black Hills. Place called Inyan Kara. Sacred mountain of the Lakota.”

“Skinwalkers are Navajo. What the hell is one doing on Lakota land?”

“Sacred mountain is a sacred mountain, and skin-walkers need one of their own. Mount Taylor has belonged to Sawyer since—”

“The dawn of time,” I muttered.

“Close enough.”

“If this man
taught
Sawyer, why didn’t he snatch Mount Taylor for himself?”

“He did.”

“Yet he’s in South Dakota.”

“Wyoming,” she corrected. “Inyan Kara is found in the portion of the Black Hills located in Wyoming. Creates a sacred triangle with Bear Butte and Devil’s Tower. Powerful magic.”

“
Lakota
magic.”

Luther’s bony shoulders rippled again. “Sani can draw magic from any mountain.”

“I still don’t see why he gave up Mount Taylor.”

“He didn’t give it up,” Ruthie said, and something in her voice told me the truth.

“Sawyer took it from him.”

Luther’s chin dipped toward his chest in acknowledgment.

“Guy’s going to be
so
happy to help me raise the man who stole his magic mountain,” I muttered. Indians are understandably touchy on the subject of land grabbing.

“Sani will help you. He’ll have to.”

“Why?”

“When your journey is complete, you’ll know all you need to know.”

I really hated it when Ruthie said shit like that.

I didn’t bother to quiz her about
what
I’d learn from the journey. Even if she knew, she wouldn’t tell me. The journey was part of the . . . journey.

“What does
Sani
mean?” I asked.

“Old One.”

“What did they call him when he was young?”

“Sani was never young.”

I opened my mouth then shut it again. I really didn’t want to know.

“What’s wrong?” Ruthie asked. “I figured you’d grab your bag and be out the door before the location left my mouth.”

I’d thought I would be, too. But while I wouldn’t pose questions about my journey, I did have questions about something else.

“I have a little problem,” I said, then lowered myself to my knees and dragged the hissing, spitting kitten from beneath the mattress.

Ruthie stared at it for a minute then lifted her gaze to mine. “Got no time for a pet.”

“This was a baby ten minutes ago.”

Luther’s bushy brows lifted. “Don’t say.”

“Do.”

Ruthie snorted. “Well. How’d that happen?”

I let the kitten skitter back beneath the bed and reached for the blanket, holding the soft material up so she could see the truth. “Get the picture?”

Luther’s eyes widened. “No foolin’?”

“You didn’t know?”

“No.”

I wasn’t sure I believed her. Ruthie existed these days in her own personal heaven. There the sun always shone and it never, ever rained. She watched over children who’d left this earth too soon, usually violently, giving them extra love and attention before sending them on their way into the light.

She also directed our side of the war from beyond. I might carry the title
leader of the light,
but the true leader was Ruthie and always would be.

However, sometimes she kept things from us. She had her reasons, or so she said. She also manipulated us, lied to us, and moved us around like living chess pieces. At times I’d hated her for it. Eventually I’d come to understand she’d do anything to save the world, because so would I.

“You’d have no clue who her mother might be?” That was bothering me more and more. The mother. Who was she? Where was she? Most importantly . . .

What
was she?

“None,” Ruthie answered.

“Huh.” I wasn’t sure what I was going to do about that. As far as I knew, Sawyer didn’t have a little black book.

“We’re going to have to work something out for the child,” Ruthie said. “You need to go
to
Sani. He no longer leaves Inyan Kara.”

“Cursed?” Until recently Sawyer had been unable to leave Navajo land as a man. His whack-job of an evil spirit bitch mother had cursed him. No sooner had the curse been broken, allowing him to walk on two feet instead of four anywhere that he wanted, than I’d had to kill him. Talk about bad luck.

“Yes.” Ruthie shook her head, and Luther’s curls bobbed. “No. Well, you’ll see.”

I
loved
it when I knew exactly what I was getting into.

“What am I going to do with—?” I jabbed my thumb toward the bed.

“Protect her.”

Sheesh, I wished someone would sing a new tune.

“How?”

“You need a powerful ally who’s been fighting Nephilim for a long time, who’s very, very good at killing. Someone you trust. Someone who would do anything you asked just because
you
asked and would die before he let you down.”

“Ah, hell,” I muttered. “Not him.”

CHAPTER 3

“Yes,” Ruthie said. “Him. Take the child to Jimmy.”

Jimmy Sanducci and I had history—a lot of it. We’d loved and lost each other and then—

I wasn’t quite sure what to call what had happened lately. I still loved him, but I kind of thought he hated me. I couldn’t blame him, but it still hurt. Declaring to the universe that I also loved Sawyer had not helped the situation.

Jimmy and Sawyer did
not
care for each other. Asking Sanducci to watch over Sawyer’s child was going to be as much fun as asking your boss for a raise right after you wrecked the company car.

“There’s gotta be an easier way.”

“In your experience, Lizbeth, is there ever an easier way?”

“No.”

“You can’t send another to Inyan Kara.
You
have to be the one to go.”

As far as I knew, only skinwalkers could raise ghosts. I’d become one the first time I slept with Sawyer. Besides being psychometric, with latent channeling abilities, I was also a sexual empath—I absorbed supernatural powers through sex. Talk about a mood killer.

While I supposedly had the power to raise ghosts, I  hadn’t been able to raise Sawyer—another check mark on our “why we need a skinwalker” list. I hoped Sani could reveal what I was doing wrong.

“I’ll take Faith with me,” I said.

“Not a good idea.” Luther’s great big hand went up, forestalling my inevitable
why?
“Sawyer stole his mountain, child. You think Sani’s gonna forgive that? You think he’s gonna let the opportunity for revenge pass him by?”

“I can protect her.”

“Maybe you can; maybe you can’t. You don’t know what kind of magic the Old One has found on top of that Lakota mountain. You wanna take the chance he’s strong enough to go through you and get to her?”

“Fine.” I sighed. “I’ll leave her with Luther.”

“He’s a child himself.”

“Don’t tell him that.”

Ruthie’s lips curved. “I’ve brought up plenty of kids, Lizbeth. Along the way I did learn a thing or two about teenage boys and their egos.”

“
You
could watch her. Just stay . . .” I waved vaguely at Luther’s body. “In there.”

But Ruthie was already shaking Luther’s head. “I got children back home that need me. Can’t just leave ’em on their own when they died the way they did.”

“Jimmy isn’t going to like this,” I said.

“He don’t like much lately. What’s one more thing for his list?”

Ruthie was right. I couldn’t leave a baby with a teenager—no matter how responsible Luther was, no matter how vicious he could become—and the only other person left alive with whom I’d trust a shape-shifting infant was Sanducci.

“Where is he?” I asked.

“The Badlands.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Convenient.”

“Coincidence or fate?” Luther’s shoulders lifted then lowered. “You be the judge.”

“Why’s he there?”

“Nest of Iyas.”

“Some type of vamp?”

Jimmy was a dhampir—the son of a vampire and a woman. His father had been an asshole—I mean a strega—translation, “Italian vampire witch.” No one knew what his mother had been. Probably lunch.

Dhampirs can sense vampires, and they’re very good at ending them. Jimmy was ultra-fast, super-strong, and damn hard to kill. Once again, due to sexual empathy, so was I.

“Lakota storm monster,” Ruthie explained. “Possesses a hunger food can’t satisfy. Only blood.”

Sounded like a vamp to me. “What else?”

“Wherever they walk, winter follows. They wear the heads of their victims as trophies.”

“How exactly do these things blend in?”

Luther’s lips curved. “They’re human when they choose to be. Only in battle do they become Iyas, faceless monsters of the storm.”

“How do you kill them?”

“Sunlight.”

For a vampire storm monster, I guess that made sense.

“We’ll leave this afternoon,” I said. I was going to have to bring Luther along. I couldn’t handle Faith by myself.

“Why not now?”

“I promised Megan I’d be here for her daughter’s birthday party.”

“Tell her you can’t make it.”

“No,” I said firmly.

“Lizbeth—”

“No,” I repeated. “I won’t stay for the whole party but I
am
going.”

I’d broken one promise to Megan. I hadn’t taken care of her husband. Instead I’d gotten him killed. I’d sworn not to break another promise to her again if I could help it.

Max Murphy had been my partner. He’d trusted my “instincts.” He’d wound up dying because of them, because of me.