The Spirit Tree (10 page)

I launched skyward from the windowsill, faltered, and began to plummet. Each time I thought with my human brain, my innate ability to fly wavered. I couldn’t allow the animal to take complete control.

As I understood how my new body worked, I ventured from my home. I soared high on the currents and dove toward the earth, only to spread my wings and drift high again.

For the first time since Gram Mae had called me to the hospital, my mind stilled. I had no cares, no worries of people trying to kill me, no grief or loss, no family drama, no job, no patients, no disappointments. I was free.

The gathering with the elders would happen on Wednesday—today. How had I forgotten? Better yet, how could they have let me sleep through the gathering? I couldn’t miss the chance to make sure the people trying to kill me were dead.

I changed headings and flew east. Anger, hurt, and confusion whittled away at the fragile peace I’d found in the air. By the time I flew over the university, my wings glowed with an orange tint.

The sun had almost set when I reached the forest in Geneva, my tail feathers leaving a streak of red flames in my wake. The thick tree canopy made it difficult to see the ground, yet my predatory vision picked up the smallest movements. I tracked field mice as they scurried from my shadow. I approached the clearing. Several people stood in a circle around a fire pit. Some wore street clothes, while others wore ceremonial garb. The official change of leadership had begun. My heart beat with the cadence of the drums and stomping feet.

I tucked my wings and dove toward the fire in the center of the gathering. Circling once, I aimed for the sand surrounding the pit. Despite my efforts, I landed in the center of the flames. My initial instinct was panic, but the fire didn’t burn. In fact, they energized me.

Shouts bellowed over the roar of the flames. People scattered away from the pit, wide-eyed and frightened. Dr. Hicks folded his arms over his chest and watched with a grim expression.

I spread my wings and rose until I hovered over the flames, quite pleased with my new skills. Had I been in human form, I would’ve laughed. Instead, the sound came out in a shrill caw. Those gathered there stared, and a few moved closer.

“Impossible.” One of the elders reached forward but yanked his hand back when the flames licked his skin.

Gram Mae called my name—leave it to Mae to ruin all the fun. I tucked my head to my chest and focused on the sound of her voice. The shouts around me grew louder. My eyes watered from the smoke, clouding my vision. I stood in human form in the center of the fire pit, untouched by the flames.

The words that were being shouted surprised me. I’d been around these people my entire life and never heard them curse. Gram Mae needed a case of Ivory soap for this crowd. Dr. Hicks stepped forward and offered his hand. A little late to be self-conscious, I held my head high as I stepped out of the fire.

“It seems we have a challenger for the position of shaman.” Dr. Hicks slanted his eyes to me. “Tessa of the Red Paint clan, daughter of Atsila, granddaughter of Cheasequah.”

I hadn’t heard Charlie’s true name in a long time. I expected Mae and Dottie to give me the same disapproving look, but they smiled. Someone draped a heavy robe over my shoulders. I didn’t know what they expected me to say, so I nodded. What had I gotten myself into?

Dr. Hicks spoke again. “I concede my claim.” He ground my knuckles hard enough to elicit a whimper. I pulled my hand back, resisting the urge to rub the throbbing joints. Any doubt I had about his disdain for me vanished.

Someone called from the crowd. “Does the girl have a tongue to speak?”

“I do.” I searched the crowd for the person who’d spoken.

“Did Cheasequah train you?” Buck Oldham stepped forward.

“In his own way, he did. I have his book and can read the writings.”

“Wait.” Mae stepped forward. “Marvin Hicks has the book in his car. Tessa will need it back.”

Dr. Hicks stiffened beside me. Several people began to speak in hushed tones, and Buck’s voice rose. “There is no doubt you’re a firebird, but how?”

Should I speak of my mother’s heritage? The men had known my family since before I was born. They couldn’t be the ones trying to hurt me. Could they? “My mother was Nunnehi.”

Voices filled the air, and I waited for them to quiet. “Cheasequah worried that someone would try to steal his book. Since his passing, there have been attempts on my life. I stand before you now and ask the tribe’s assistance in finding those who would dishonor my grandfather.”

They all spoke at once. I knew I’d poked a skunk by bringing this up at a gathering. In the confusion, I lost sight of Dr. Hicks. “Where is Dr. Hicks?”

They continued to argue. I let the robe fall and embraced the heat in my gut. This time I shifted with ease. Before anyone could stop me, I took flight.

I flew over the parking area as a white sedan backed out. The car swung around and sped down the gravel drive, heading for the highway. I followed for a few miles, then turned back toward the gathering. My flying allowed me time to think. Obviously, Marvin had planned to take Charlie’s position, but why? Charlie trusted him, and he’d helped me when I first shifted. He’d killed the men in the field . . . hadn’t he? I couldn’t remember seeing the bear after my change.

When I returned to the forest, the elders and my family had gathered beneath a pavilion. Food was set out, although no one had touched it. I shifted near the dying fire and slid the robe on. My skin prickled, as if someone was watching me from the trees. I wished I had my amulet, but I’d left it behind when I shifted. Whoever or whatever didn’t seem to present a threat. I had no idea how I knew, but I trusted the feeling of peace flowing from the dark woods.

“Did you find him?” Buck met me on the path.

“No. He traveled north toward Highway 46. He has the book.”

Buck set his arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. “Don’t worry, little flame, we will find him. Do you plan to claim the position of shaman?”

I stopped walking. I’d never considered the possibility. Did I want it? “May I have some time to grieve before I answer?”

“Of course, but we will need an answer before the next gathering. In the meantime, I’m going to keep you ladies safe.”

“Good luck. Have you met my great-grandmother?”

Rather than going into hiding with Mae and Dottie, the tribal elders allowed me to leave under one condition—I had to agree to have a bodyguard with me at all times. Bryson, my new bodyguard, was the consolation prize.

Bryson was a shifter; specifically, he changed into a hawk. Nothing about him was hawklike, though. He looked more like a bull—a freaking hot bull with muscles, a strong jaw, and a long black ponytail.

I gripped the steering wheel. “Look, I don’t need a bodyguard. The great thing about being a firebird is I can’t die. I’ll just rise from the ashes and fly away. You can just drop me off.” I smiled.

“There are ways to kill a firebird.”

“Right.” I pulled the car up the drive and cut a hard left onto the grass.

“Pull up closer to the door.”

“Mae will pitch a fit if I park on her grass.”

“Do it.”

I eased the car forward. A thick arm crossed my chest before I could open the door. “What now?”

“Wait until I come around,” he said.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake.”

Bryson took his time checking the perimeter before unlocking Mae’s front door. By the time he opened my door, I wanted to punch him in the face. I hopped out and took my time walking around the car. The box of bottles sat on the bottom step, and it smelled like rain was coming. “Would you bring that box inside for me?”

My phone rang as I walked inside, giving me an excuse to leave Bryson in the kitchen. “Hello?”

“Tessa, it’s Aaron. Detective Burns. I’ve been trying to reach you. Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, we had a tribal meeting. It’s been a long few days. I left my phone at the house.”

“Do you remember seeing any wild animals around the house the day you were shot?”

I reached for the doorjamb. “Which time? I’ve been shot twice in two weeks.”

“The second time.”

I decided to lie. “No, nothing since the attempted break-in. Why?”

“We found two men mauled and burned in the field by the house the day you were shot.”

Oh God, had I really killed people?
My heart slammed against my chest. “Weird.”

The line went quiet. I pulled the phone from my ear and glanced at the screen. “Are you still there?”

“Yes. Mind if I stop by? A personal visit. Uh, what I mean is, they’ll be closing the case soon. I would like to see you, personally.”

I laughed. “Personally, sure.”

“Great, be there in ten.” Aaron disconnected before I had time to change my mind. How in the hell would I explain 250 pounds of Native American muscle in my living room?

“Hey, Bryson?” I found him fiddling with his cell phone. “I’m expecting company, a cop friend. Let’s not get into the whole bodyguard thing, okay?”

He shrugged. “Cousin Bryson, in for the funeral. Don’t even think about leaving with him.”

I turned and headed for my room. I needed a quick shower and to change out of the robe. My hair smelled like smoke and bird feathers. I’d moved as fast as I could, but someone knocked on the door before I could rinse the conditioner out of my hair. “Crap.”

Male voices drifted into the room as I stepped out of the shower. Aaron could have a conversation with anyone, including a Neanderthal. I combed out the tangles and slid into a pair of jeans. He’d seen me look worse, but I still wished I had more prep time. I wiped the steam off the mirror for one last check. In the reflection, a woman stood behind me . . . my birth mother.

How had I not noticed the resemblance? We shared the same hair and eye colors, and the shape of our faces was similar, though our builds couldn’t have been more different. I reached forward and touched the spirit woman. I’d never tried. Even as a child I’d assumed my hand would pass through her. Her skin was solid beneath my fingers.

“You’re my mother?”

“Yes.” Atsila brushed my hair from my face.

“I have so many questions.”

“Tessa? Who are you talking to? Is someone in there with you?” Bryson banged on the bedroom door.

“I’m on the phone.” I turned and Atsila vanished. “Dammit. Seriously, would a little privacy kill you?”

I went into the kitchen, and Aaron cleared his throat. “Hi, Aaron, sorry to keep you waiting. I had to shower. I smelled like a bonfire.”

Bryson laughed and went back into the living room, shaking his head.

“You met my cousin?” I tried to make light of the situation, but I was thinking of ways to cook hawk stew.

Aaron folded his arms across his chest. His eyes moved to the phone on the table.

I leaned in to whisper, “I was giving myself a pep talk. I do that sometimes when I’m nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?” He grinned. “I’m kidding. I’m nervous, too. You look good for someone who’s been shot twice.”

I couldn’t exactly tell Aaron that my wounds had healed when I shifted into a firebird. I shrugged. “Gram Mae is a miracle worker.”

Aaron gave me a dubious look.

I debated sitting at the kitchen table. Mae would approve, but it left Bryson within earshot. I motioned for him to follow me into my bedroom, making sure to limp and grimace every so often. Aaron closed the door behind him. If Bryson needed to pee, he’d have to go outside.

“This isn’t what it looks like. It’s a small house, and with him here, there will be no privacy.”

“As long as you know I don’t put out on the first date.”

I sat on the bed. “My Gram Mae would pitch a fit if she knew I had you in here with the door closed.”

“She didn’t mind me being in here when you were shot.” Aaron ran his hand over his chin. “Where did the nickname ‘Gram Mae’ come from? I’m betting there’s a story behind it.”

“Great-Grandmother Mae was a mouthful when I was little.” I grinned at his socked feet.

“We were never allowed to wear shoes in the house. Old habits.” He sat beside me.

“Where did you grow up?”

“Montreat, North Carolina. Took me forever to lose the accent.”

“I’ve been there. My family is Cherokee. We spent a lot of time in the mountains when I was a kid.” I frowned at the bathroom door, wondering when I’d have the chance to talk to my mother. “Oh, I’m rude. Do you want something to drink? We have beer, water, or tea.”

“Sure. Mae filled me to the gills with sweet tea the other day. How about a beer?”

I stood and limped to the kitchen. Before I returned to Aaron, I looked in on Bryson. “There’s beer in the fridge and some leftovers. Help yourself.”

He nodded without taking his eyes off the television.

I snatched a beer from the fridge and returned to my bedroom. “How long have you lived in Florida?”

“I went to UCF right out of high school, been here ever since.” He took the beer and smiled. “You don’t drink beer?”

“Naw, tastes like it’s been through someone once already.”

He nearly spit beer on the quilt. “Never thought about it like that. How about you? I assume you were born in Florida?”

“My great-grandmother was born in the green house next door. I went to college at FSU, then grad school at UCF. I’ve traveled quite a bit but always lived in Florida.” I settled against the headboard and drew my legs beneath me.

Aaron followed my lead and leaned his back against the wall. “They transferred Samuels and me to the Rivera case. With all of the media coverage, the chief is under a lot of pressure to find those kids.”

“He put the best detectives on it?”

Aaron ran his hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Are you allowed to talk about it? I’ve seen some of the news coverage. It’s awful.” I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

“The father isn’t giving us any information. He’s our only suspect. It feels off.” Aaron shrugged. “Let’s not talk shop. I want to know about you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Let’s see. You know how to shoot a gun. Do you hunt?”