Desert of the Damned (16 page)

He took her hand. “Come on. Don’t be afraid to make a mistake. Just remember, quick, quick, slow, slow.” Pressing his body hard against hers, he gazed into her eyes as the next song started. “Ready?”

“Let’s do it.” She smiled.

Damn, she felt good, smelled good. He breathed in the hint of citrus fragrance—her hair or perfume, he wasn’t sure.

He whispered the dance steps in her ear to get her started. When she stumbled, he pressed his hand on the small of her back and started again. “That’s it. You have it now.”

“This is fun,” she said and he thought she meant it.

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“You should try hiking when you don’t have to collect specimens. I can show you some great trails if you like. This is a great time of year to hike. The summers are rough in the heat.”

“I may not be here by summer anyway.”

He leaned back and studied her. “Oh, right. You’re moving.” He stiffened and chose not to say any more.

She fell silent too.

Damn, should’ve kept my mouth shut. I’m pushing her.

After a few times around the room, her body began to relax in his arms and she seemed to anticipate when he was going to move one way or the other either by the pressure of his hand on her back or the pulling and pushing of his left hand clasped around hers.

As they moved together, he wondered if she was getting as turned-on as he was.

Maybe she wasn’t interested in getting involved with someone if she’d just broken up with that guy.

Jake leaned close and whispered, “Ready to try something new?”

“Excuse me?”

“A spin? Like what that couple just did.” He tilted his chin toward a couple in front of them.

“Oh. Okay.”

“Ready, go.” He pressed on her back and had her walk under his raised arm which made her lose the rhythm. “Not bad for a first try. Get the steps going and we’ll try it again.”

“I think I get the idea.”

He wanted to ask her out to dance another night.

“Ready to try again?” This time she managed to keep her footing through the turn.

“Hey, I did it.”

He gazed down at her and had the sudden urge to kiss her but fortunately restrained himself. “Yeah, you did great.” The music changed to another song, a much slower one. They stood off to the side, gazing at one another and not speaking.

This was going to get complicated. If things did progress with Amy as he hoped, how long should he wait until he told her about his abilities? A heavy dread weighed him down. He pushed the thought out of his mind. Not for a long time.

The dance floor filled up again and Jake urged her out. “One more? It’s just a waltz, an easy box step.”

“Easy if you know how.”

“Didn’t any of your old boyfriends take you dancing?”

“Not this kind.”

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“No more lessons tonight. We’ll just wing it.” He took her in his arms and pulled her close, dancing in any easy, no-patterned style.

The feel of her hand sliding along his back was maddening. Was she aware of what she was doing to him? The softness of her breasts, the heat of her hand, her scent. She rested her head on his shoulder and he felt the heat of her body radiate through him.

Again he stroked her back and steered them by pulling or pushing with his left hand. He couldn’t help focusing on his arousal. Hell, he wouldn’t be human if he wasn’t getting a little turned-on. They’d been dancing for a few songs now.

The dancing had ignited a need in him, something he hadn’t dared think about since Alison. Sure, it wouldn’t take much arm twisting to take her into his bed but he wanted more than one night of sex with Amy.

He was teetering on a precarious edge, wanting to slide his fingers into her hair, press his lips to her neck. As his hand continued to stroke her back, lewd and fervent thoughts paraded around his head. He longed to tease her until she was slick with juices. Then he would thrust his cock inside her to the hilt while his mouth captured her cries of pleasure. Closing his eyes, he imagined his tongue fucking her mouth as his cock was fucking her pussy. His fingers dug into her shoulder.

Jake drew her closer, their hips touching, her mound rubbing the bulge beneath his jeans. Lord, he wanted to be inside her.

The song ended and another one with a beat for a two-step dance began. The other couples fell into step. Still holding her in his arms, Jake glanced down at her. “I should get you home. You have to work tomorrow, don’t you?”

She nodded. “This sounds like an easy song for the two-step. Do you have time for one more?” she asked Jake.

“Sure.” He moved her into the dance. “Are you beginning to like country music?”

“Not really. I was just looking for an excuse to dance one more dance with you.”

Good answer.
He smiled and pressed her against his body.

“You don’t have to work tomorrow?” she asked him.

“I do but I didn’t want to stop dancing with you.” He felt the vibration from his pager and groaned. They stopped dancing. “I’m sorry, my pager.”

He led her off the dance floor and slipped his pager off his belt and read the screen.

Frowning, he grabbed his cell phone. “I’m sorry, Amy. It’s my grandfather. He’s in his eighties,” he said as he dialed the number on his cell phone.

“Sure, no problem.”

“Come on, Bill, answer your phone.” After several moments, Jake cursed under his breath and hung up. “He’s not answering. He texted 9-1-1 on my pager but he’s not answering his phone. It’s not unusual. He’s done this before. But I still worry. Would you mind if we go straight there first before I take you home? Just in case.”

“Of course.”

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Chapter Ten

When Amy followed Jake into Bill Sike’s double-wide mobile home, she had expected a shaman to be wearing something that represented the Native American heritage. Instead, the man wore jeans, a denim buttoned Western-style shirt and cowboy boots. He was stretched out in a lounge chair, smoking a cigarette. His hair was mostly gray with black streaks, long, past his shoulders, and pulled into a ponytail.

“What took you?” Bill said as he got up and nodded to Amy. “I see what took you.”

He introduced himself. He held his hand out to Amy to shake.

Amy shook it and introduced herself.

“We were in town when I got your page. What’s the emergency?” Jake asked.

“Sorry to mess up your evening.” The lines around his eyes became more pronounced as he squinted and studied her.

“No problem,” Amy said. She didn’t mention that they were dancing. She glanced around the room. The furniture was old and worn and the area rugs looked like hand-woven Indian wares. A bookshelf on one side of the living room contained several books and Indian pottery, sculptures, feathers and dream catchers. On the walls were photos from old Western movies where the backdrop used some of the common Arizona red rock formations. Amy recognized John Wayne, Debbie Reynolds, Alan Ladd and Angie Dickinson but there were many more she didn’t know although the faces were familiar.

The room was neat and had a sweet aroma of fresh tobacco and strong coffee.

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” Jake said.

“Must’ve been outside tending the fire. Meditating.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “I thought something was wrong or you were sick. Why did you page me?”

“Something is wrong.” Bill paced the room for a moment without saying anything.

“Why don’t you sit?” Jake placed a hand on Bill’s shoulder and the old man shot him a look.

“I’m not sick.”

“I can wait outside if you like,” Amy offered. Maybe Bill had something personal to discuss.

“No, I reckon this concerns you,” Bill said to Amy.

Jake sighed, showing his frustration. “What does?”

“I had one of my visions.” He glared at Jake as if challenging him to discount them.

“More than the visions… I’ve seen him too. Out back.”

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“Seen who? Where out back?” Jake frowned, glancing at Amy.

“Coyote.” Bill walked to the back door window and pointed outside. “He’s been standing out there waiting and watching me the last couple nights. Tonight he stared right at me as the bastard walked up to this door as confident as you please with a crow’s feather in his mouth. Then he dropped the feather on the doormat, looked me in the eye and ran off.”

Jake ran a hand through his hair and took a breath before commenting. “Okay, so this was your dream?”

Bill turned to face Jake, his hands clenched. “No dream. This just happened. That’s why I paged you.” He picked up a clay bowl with a bundle that looked like a cluster of dried wheat together. He lit the end with a lighter until the ends glowed and the herb began to smoke. The sweet woody scent filled the room as he waved the bundle around.

He dropped the smoldering stick into the bowl and handed it to Jake. “Here, you finish smudging the room while I get something for you.” Bill left the room.

Jake gave Amy a worried look but complied with his grandfather by waving the stick in the air and walking around the kitchen, dining area and living room.

“What’s smudging supposed to do?” Amy asked.

“To clear negative energies or rid bad spirits from entering an area. The Indians use mostly sage, cedar and sweetgrass.” He held up the smoldering bundle. “I think this is white sage.

“Smells nice.”

When Bill returned, he held an animal skin hooked over his arm and some objects in his other hand. He held them out for Jake to take. There was an Indian drum, a leather pouch, feathers and a few stones. The stones looked like turquoise and obsidian.

“No, old man.” Jake shook his head.

“What kind of animal fur is that?” Amy was curious but felt awkward to ask what the other objects were meant for. It might have been something sacred and she didn’t want to be rude.

“Mountain lion,” Bill said without taking his eyes off Jake.

Jake hadn’t taken the fur or the items from Bill. Neither man moved as if there was a silent war going on between them. The air in the room was tense. “Would you like me to wait outside, Jake? It looks like you two have something to discuss.”

“No need, Amy,” Jake said through clenched teeth. “Bill and I have already discussed this topic and he knows my view.”

Bill dropped the fur and items into a worn recliner chair and turned to Amy.

He smiled. “Please excuse my grandson. He’s stubborn when it comes to the old ways and facing things he can’t change.”

Amy smiled awkwardly and shrugged, not sure what to say and she glanced at Jake for a clue as what to do. Jake hadn’t made eye contact with her during this whole 90

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ordeal. “Don’t apologize for me, Granddad,” he said stiffly but with respect. “She doesn’t need to know about this now.” He turned to Amy. “I’m sorry. It’s a family matter. Sorry to bring you in on this.”

She smiled. “No problem.”

“Come on outside,” Bill ordered them both.

Jake grimaced and shook his head. Amy grabbed his arm and dragged him outside.

“Come on. It’s not like I’ve never had a fight with my parents.”

He chuckled. “I’m sure it wasn’t about this.”

She glanced at the fur, dying to know what it was about. “No, I’m sure you’re right.”

Outside, Bill had a fire burning in an old metal barrel cut down to use as a fire pit.

The flames danced and crackled, sparks drifting up a foot or so, then faded out. The sky was completely clear and filled with brilliant stars so vivid in the desert sky. “You may deny your heritage but you can’t deny that something unusual is haunting the land and the animals.”

Jake closed his eyes for a moment as if to gather his patience. “When you say unusual, you mean supernatural.”

Bill stood his ground. “I’ve had my visions, yes. At first I thought it was
Iktomi
but the creature in this vision does not speak the sacred language and he travels much faster than Coyote.”

Jake propped his hand on his hips and took a breath to speak but remained silent.

Amy glanced first at Bill, then at Jake. “What does he mean?”

Jake placed a hand on Amy’s back. “An Indian myth.
Iktomi
is the Coyote shapeshifter.”

He still didn’t answer her question, she thought.

“He’s been here. I’ve seen him in my dreams. But not
Iktomi
, not Coyote, something else, something deadly.”

A chill skimmed over Amy’s skin that seemed to reach down to her bones. She rubbed her arms.

Bill unfolded an Indian blanket from a webbed lawn chair and draped it over her shoulders. “The desert air has a chill at night.”

“Thank you.” She tucked the blanket up under her chin. Bill looked into her eyes for a moment as if he could see something there. See into her mind, her thoughts.

Jake shook his head. “Don’t worry, Bill. You’ve heard me talk about the animals dying and you’re worried. It’s causing your dreams. I know how you love the park.

Amy’s company is helping to find—”

Bill spun around to face Jake. “Damn it. You know my dreams. Don’t talk to me like I’m an old man.” His hands fisted at his side. “You’re in danger and so is she. You know the significance of the crow feather.”

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“Okay, okay,” Jake said. “I believe you.”

Bill kicked a stone across the yard. Amy jumped at his display of rage. “Then believe me when I say you’re both in danger.”

“Danger? From what?” Amy asked.

“Whom,” Bill said. “Coyote, or another trickster. Something evil and more deadly.”

“What does the crow feather mean? I don’t understand,” Amy added.

“Crow is a messenger from the spirits. He knows both worlds. But a gift of a crow feather from a trickster is a bad omen.” Bill paced in front of the fire.

“If this is true what am I supposed to do?” Jake said but she wasn’t sure if he truly believed what his grandfather was saying.

“Use your powers—”

“I can protect her without my powers. I just need to keep her away from him.” Jake glanced at Amy as if he finally admitted more than he’d planned.