Crossroads (12 page)
Authors: Jeanne C. Stein
Tags: #Fantasy, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #General, #Horror
A little of the edge has left his voice. I take that as a good sign and ask, “Do you think he exists?”
“I know he exists.”
“You’ve heard of him?”
“Not before yesterday. But I did some research last night.”
Excitement bubbles up. “What did you learn?”
He holds up a hand. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. It wasn’t much. Just that he is rumored to have the ability to bring the dead back to life. For obvious reasons, his existence is protected by the Navajo. It will be up to the tribal council to determine if you will be allowed to meet with him. This may be tricky, Anna. You may not get permission. And if you do, he may not be willing to speak with a vampire. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
I twirl the straw in my Coke. I wish I’d known this before we started out. I’m sure Chael knew. But he wouldn’t send me out here unless he thought there was a chance. Or is this another trick?
On the other hand, what’s the worst that can happen? I can be pretty persuasive when I want to be.
Frey’s sarcastic laugh pulls me back. “You should see your face. The expression tells me your thoughts are spinning like the hard drive on a computer. Sorting information. Weighing consequences. Wondering how far you’d have to go if you’re turned down.”
I squint up at him. “You think I’d resort to violence?”
“Did I say violence? I know how you operate. If you want something, you get it. What I don’t know is what you want. You haven’t talked about it.”
I slurp up the rest of my Coke, stalling.
“You haven’t made a decision yet, have you?” He pauses a heartbeat, frowning. “Whatever you decide, remember. Using magic exacts a price. And a thing like this takes magic—powerful magic. The bigger the magic, the bigger the price.”
He says it as though I’m not aware that there’s danger in challenging the natural way. I know it only too well. I still carry the mental image of Frey broken and near death, fighting to save Culebra from a witch’s spell.
And yet, how natural was it that I became a vampire? How natural that I had to send my family off to protect them? That I have to distance myself from my friends?
No, the only natural thing is that I’d want to erase the last year of my life. I owe it to myself to find out if such a thing is possible.
CHAPTER 15
W
E’RE BACK ON THE ROAD, BOTH OF US, I THINK, happy not to talk. I don’t know what Frey is thinking, but the things he said at the restaurant linger in my mind. He’s right. Since the ceremony acknowledging my position as the Chosen, I haven’t talked to him except to let him know that I survived.
E’RE BACK ON THE ROAD, BOTH OF US, I THINK, happy not to talk. I don’t know what Frey is thinking, but the things he said at the restaurant linger in my mind. He’s right. Since the ceremony acknowledging my position as the Chosen, I haven’t talked to him except to let him know that I survived.
Why was that? Certainly not because I was ungrateful for his help. I remember how close we came to making love that weekend. I exercised restraint because of Layla. Because I didn’t want him regretting the time he spent with me or becoming resentful if it interfered with their relationship.
That’s rich. They broke up anyway.
Something I’d have known if I’d bothered to call him.
Lifting a hand, I shield my eyes against the glare of the midday sun, enjoying the warmth that penetrates my skin, remembering the warmth that mortals feel from the inside out.
If I find a way to make things right for Frey, I will.
But first. Frey was right about something else, too. I don’t know what I want from this shaman. If he’s powerful enough to solve the riddle of life and death, maybe he can solve my riddle, too. How I was chosen and why. What it would mean if I relinquished the title.
How I can get Chael out of the picture.
Because before I could make any decision, I’d have to know the mortal world would be safe. No matter how much I want to become human again, I wouldn’t put my desire ahead of the well-being of billions.
Another hour of desert boredom and we cross the Arizona border at Yuma. Right outside Casa Grande we leave Highway 8 and pick up I-17. Then it’s on to and past Phoenix and finally, the monotonous scenery becomes interesting again. We’re headed north, approaching the Verde Valley area, and for the first time, we’re seeing more than brown dirt and scrub. Red rocks light a fiery landscape punctuated with the green of real trees. Alder, ash, cypress and a half dozen others I don’t recognize. Bushes in hues that range from the lightest feathery green to brilliant emerald to cloud gray. Ocotillo and yucca raise thorny fingers to the sky. I’m mesmerized by the wonder of it all, my absorption broken only when a movement catches the corner of my eye.
Frey looks at his watch. “We’re not going to make it before dark. Do you want to stop for the night in Flagstaff ?”
I hadn’t noticed how much time had passed. The sun is low on the horizon. The dark doesn’t bother me so I volunteer to take over behind the wheel.
Frey looks at me as if I’d just suggested he become a vegetarian. “Do you know how to drive a stick?”
“How hard can it be? I’ve been watching you.”
I can see by his horrified expression he’s imagining scenarios where I strip his new baby’s gears.
“I’m kidding. Of course I can drive a stick.”
He isn’t convinced so I add, “Look. I drive a ninety-thousand-dollar car. What’d you pay for this?”
Still no relaxing of the worry lines around his mouth. “How long until we reach the reservation?”
“Four hours.”
“So let me take over for a while. You take a nap.”
Frey pulls off the road so I think I’ve convinced him. Instead, he adjusts his seat back and stretches his legs. “We should both take a nap,” he says. “Thirty minutes or so and we’ll hit the road again.”
I give him the evil eye. Jesus. What a baby. I adjust my seat, too, and stare into a cloudless, cerulean sky. Then it hits me, “Frey, are you stalling?”
His eyes are closed. He huffs out a breath. “That’s a ridiculous assumption.”
“Is it? You sounded like your ex will not be happy to see you. Could it be that you’re a little skittish about seeing her, too?”
I’m teasing, but there’s nothing amusing in the way he snaps back at me. “The roads we’re going to travel once we get to the valley are not well marked or lit. And there’s no moon tonight. It won’t be easy navigating in the dark.”
“You’re joking, right? You have the vision of a cat. And I’m a vampire. My eyes are better than night-vision goggles.”
He turns at that. “Jesus, Anna. Do you always have to argue? Thirty minutes. Is that too much to ask? Just close your eyes and shut up, will you?”
Wow. He
really
doesn’t want me to drive his Jeep. “Okay, okay. It’s what you get for carb loading at that Carl’s Jr. but I’m not sleepy. I’ll just lay here and watch you sleep off that ten-thousand-calorie meal. It won’t bother you, will it, if I stare at you while you nap?”
really
doesn’t want me to drive his Jeep. “Okay, okay. It’s what you get for carb loading at that Carl’s Jr. but I’m not sleepy. I’ll just lay here and watch you sleep off that ten-thousand-calorie meal. It won’t bother you, will it, if I stare at you while you nap?”
He doesn’t answer. He’s already asleep.
I humph an irritated breath. Stare around. Close my eyes.
Just for a minute.
CHAPTER 16
T
HE DREAMS COME IN DARK FLASHES. THE CHAOS of the last three days. Killing. The gunman in the store. The vampire in the desert. Always the blood is what stands out most vividly. Starkly, like a retouched photo where the background is shades of gray, but not the blood. It’s crimson, fragrant, sweet—sexual in its allure. My body responds to the images and the first stirrings of arousal send heat rushing to warm my skin. I lose myself in the sensation, let the excitement build, yearn for release.
HE DREAMS COME IN DARK FLASHES. THE CHAOS of the last three days. Killing. The gunman in the store. The vampire in the desert. Always the blood is what stands out most vividly. Starkly, like a retouched photo where the background is shades of gray, but not the blood. It’s crimson, fragrant, sweet—sexual in its allure. My body responds to the images and the first stirrings of arousal send heat rushing to warm my skin. I lose myself in the sensation, let the excitement build, yearn for release.
A hand on my shoulder. A voice.
I’m pulled from exquisite pleasure. Pulled unwillingly back into reality at the moment before climax. I react with frustration and anger, batting the hand away. “What the—?”
We’re on the road. Frey glances over. “Jesus, Anna. You’re moaning. Were you having a nightmare?”
Shit. I scrub a hand over my face, partly to recover from the effects of the dream, partly to hide the embarrassment.
I struggle upright in the seat. I’m still groggy and disoriented. “How long have I been out?”
“Maybe three hours.” He shoots me a look. “You weren’t sleepy, huh?”
Three
hours
. It couldn’t be.
hours
. It couldn’t be.
He’s still talking. “But you’ve been moaning and thrashing around on that seat for the last fifteen minutes. I was afraid you’d hang yourself in the seat belt. What were you dreaming about?”
If I told him the truth, that I was just about to have an orgasm and he interrupted not a nightmare, but a really, really good dream, I’m not sure who would be more mortified. Frey for mistaking moans of passion for groans of terror or me for admitting it. I decide to save Frey the humiliation.
“I can’t remember what I was dreaming. You know how it is.”
Frey doesn’t take his eyes off the road. “Must have been awful.”
There’s an undertone of sarcasm that makes me swivel in the seat to search his face. Is he screwing with me? Is the only misinterpretation going on here mine? But it’s dark in the Jeep and in profile, only a hint of a smile plays at the corner of his mouth. He’s not giving anything away and I’m certainly not going to pursue the subject.
I turn my attention back to the road. The Jeep is bumping along and I realize we’ve left the paved highway. I remember Frey mentioning unpaved and unlit roads. He wasn’t kidding.
There’s no moon, either. But when I look up, the sky seems closer than I’ve ever seen it, the stars so bright, I have to fight the impulse to reach up a hand and pluck one down. As I watch, one of them separates from the rest and tracks slowly across the sky, blinking at me as it goes.
My breath catches. “What is that? An airplane?”
Frey follows my pointing finger. “No, too high. It’s a satellite. You don’t see many of those in the city, do you?”
I watch until it disappears out of sight. “I’ve never seen
anything
like that.”
anything
like that.”
Frey shoots me a sideways glance. “You have, you know. The night we went after Belinda Burke and stopped the demon raising. You don’t remember?”
The memory floods back. Frey and I racing across the desert. Panther and vampire. The sky as brilliant and close as it is now. I nod. I remember.
Frey pulls the Jeep to a stop. “Put your seat back. Let’s watch the show.”
We both recline the seats once more, mesmerized by a sky that moves and shimmers as if it were alive. Within minutes, we see two shooting stars, one right after the other, meteors trailing bits of rock and dust that disintegrate into fiery balls when they hit the earth’s atmosphere. The Milky Way, a soft blur of hazy white light, divides the sky. Constellations form patterns that I can actually distinguish. I feel like a kid, lost in awe and trembling with delight. It’s so beautiful.
“Is it like this out here every night?”
I’m whispering. Somehow to speak out loud might break the spell.
Frey whispers, too. “Is it any wonder the Navajo consider this a sacred place?”
My heart pounds in my chest. Why have I never been here before? How could I not know of such wonders?
Frey turns toward me in the seat. “Wait until sunrise. This valley is one of the most breathtaking on earth.”
I glance at the clock on the dashboard. It’s almost four—and to the east, a faint line of pink blossoms on the horizon. Not an unbroken horizon. Jagged rock formations rise from the desert floor like the ghostly abodes of long dead gods. One rises straight and narrow to the sky. It towers over the rest like some giant navigational pylon aimed at the stars.
Frey follows my gaze. “That’s called the Totem Pole. It’s four hundred fifty feet high but only a few meters wide. It’s one of the most photographed spots in the valley.”
I glance over. “You know a lot about this place. How often do you come?”
“Not often.” His tone is regretful. “I should come more.”
“Why don’t you? You obviously love it.”
“It isn’t a good idea for me to spend a lot of time in the valley.”
He’s answering my questions, but he may as well not be. The closeness we’d been experiencing shatters into a million hard, brittle pieces. “For god’s sake, Frey, spill it. What keeps you away?”
When the silence lingers on too long, my temper flares. I reach over and punch him in the arm.
He yelps and grabs at his bicep. “What was that for?”
“For being a jerk. You know every fucking thing about me. Every bad thing that’s happened, every man I’ve ever slept with, every body I’ve buried. And you won’t share with me one single detail of your personal life? After all we’ve been through together? You’re really beginning to piss me off.”
Frey grips the steering wheel. “Why would you be interested now?”
His voice is rough, whether with suppressed anger or guilt I can’t tell. It hardly matters. My own suppressed anger boils to the surface. I slam my seat back into its upright position. Jerk around to look down at him.
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