War Bringer (12 page)

“My grandfather tracked the Bear Paw Woman to her village. Angry warriors who thought he was one of the men who’d attacked her immediately surrounded him. He was brought before the chief. He couldn’t speak much Lakota and the chief couldn’t speak much English. A warrior was summoned to translate for them. My grandfather told the chief about the Bear Paw Woman’s bravery. He said that he was in love in with her and wanted to marry her, if she was a free woman.
 

“The chief told my grandfather that the Bear Paw Woman was his daughter and that she had refused to marry any of the braves he presented to her, even when they offered twice the bride price he sought. He summoned the Bear Paw Woman and asked if she had ever seen this man. My grandfather finally got a close look at the woman. Her skin was a soft color of honey, so much warmer than his own white skin. Her eyes were dark and big, so different from his blue ones. Her hair was long and black, shiny like wet tar, unlike his own, which was the color of corn silk. They were night and day, sun and moon, and utterly complete together.
 

“The chief had been close to forcing her to decide among her suitors. With my grandfather’s arrival in the village, and his daughter’s reaction to him, he decided to let my grandfather stay with them while he considered the matter.

“My grandfather loved her people. They taught him many skills for hunting and riding a warhorse. He shared with them the stories he’d accumulated in his travels. And he courted the Bear Paw Woman, which ever after was the name she was known by.
 

“When he finally returned to the chief to request the hand of his daughter, the chief refused him. Both he and the Bear Paw Woman were devastated. Her mother, however, didn’t give up hope. She explained to my grandfather why the chief wouldn’t give the Bear Paw Woman to him.
 

“It was because so many white men--trappers, soldiers—had taken women from the village in what they believed were honorable unions, only to later learn the women were abused, mistreated, shunned by white society, and often abandoned. He did not want that fate for his daughter.
 

“My grandfather gave this concern grave thought. He decided to prove himself to the chief in a way that would set him apart from the lowlifes that had harmed the village daughters before him.
 

“Ceremonies were important to the Lakota, as they were to my grandfather’s people. He decided to architect a ceremony that would incorporate essential elements of the Lakota belief system, as well as integrate the honor of his people.”
 

Kelan adjusted his arms around Fiona. “Do you want me to stop? I can tell you the rest tomorrow.”

She looked up at him. “What if we don’t have tomorrow?”

He touched her face. “We will have tomorrow.”

“I want you to go on.”

He nodded. “So my grandfather thought long and hard about how he could prove to the Bear Paw Woman’s father that his intentions were pure and true. He considered the pain white men had caused some of the women. And he thought about how the women had no voice, no say in their fate.

“My grandfather, you see, was an artist. He asked the Bear Paw Woman to cut two wide strips of leather that he would eventually wear as gauntlets. She pierced the leather so that the edges could be laced up. He embossed the leather with Celtic images that pleased him.

“He collected scrap pieces of iron that he melted down into eight small brands—four for him, four for her. Both sets were made with designs from his Celtic ancestors.
 

“When everything was set, he requested a private meeting with the chief and his wife. He and the Bear Paw Woman met in the chief’s tipi. My grandfather put the brands in the fire until the ends glowed orange. He explained that each brand represented a vow made from one to the other, one from the body, one from the heart, one from the mind, and one from the spirit.

“The chief was incensed that my grandfather wanted to brand his daughter. My grandfather calmly explained that the brands were not for her but for him. It was for him to bear the burden of their union. They each got to choose the vows they would live by for the rest of their lives. He would wear the permanent reminders of those vows on his forearms. He held up one of the cuffs he had designed and explained that their vows would be covered up so that they remained private between the two of them. He explained that it was his responsibility to see that his wife had everything she needed to keep her vows, and he would do the same for himself.
 

“In this way, he convinced the chief that his love for Bear Paw Woman was forever. That he would put her first, before himself, before the world. The chief asked him about the rest of his ceremony. After much discussion, the chief helped him incorporate the four primal elements and the four directions into the ceremony.

“This is the ceremony that we follow to this day, where I claim you and you claim me and we are forever united.”
 

Kelan paused, bracing himself for Fiona’s response. She lifted her head and looked at him. Tears were in her eyes. She smiled as she reached up to touch his face.
 

“I love you.”

“I love you,” he said.

“Was that a true story about Bear Paw Woman?”

He smiled. “It’s the story I was told. It’s best not to question the elders about such things. But I believe, at the very least, it was true in my grandfather’s heart.”

“I look forward to our ceremony.”

“I do too.”

“But I don’t want you to be hurt. Couldn’t we have the brands tattooed on your forearms instead of searing them?”

“Fiona, I’ve looked forward to wearing the marks of our union my entire life. Don’t rob me of that experience.”

“It makes me nervous to think about it. It sounds intimidating.”

“It is. It’s meant to be a solemn event. When two people join their lives, that can never be based on whim.”

“For some, it is.”

“Not for me. Not for my people.”

Fiona sat up and faced him, her legs folded in front of her. He did the same, and took her hands. “Am I your people?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“Listen to your heart.”

Her heart belonged to him. It was all she knew, the only truth she believed in this upside-down world they were in.
 

“In the claiming ceremony, I prepare a sanctuary for our spiritual joining. It can be in a cave or outside, but it is always where we can touch earth. I paint a sacred circle divided into quarters to represent the four directions: east, west, north, south. In the center is a fire. Near the ceremony site is a stream or pool or lake. In this way, all four elements are also an important part of the ceremony. The spirits of the four directions carry word of our uniting out to all of our ancestors.”

Fiona felt tears in her eyes. “It sounds beautiful.”

“It is.”

“Are there witnesses to our ceremony?”

“Only the four winds and the four elements and all of our ancestors. The heavens, the earth, and everything in between.”

She met his steady gaze, already beginning to feel changed by the solemnity of the ceremony.

“In preparation for the ceremony, we’ll each come up with four vows we’ll give the other.”

“What kind of vows?”

“Intentions you set for the rest of your life.”

“What if we change? People do, you know.”

He smiled. “We will. Nothing that lives remains unchanged. But we will change together.”

“Do your people ever fall out of love? Divorce?”

His lips thinned. “Not many. I only know of one couple who failed their vows.”

“Who?”

“My brother and his wife.”

Her eyes widened. His brother’s failing had left its mark on him. “What happened? Did they do the ceremony?”
 

“They did. But they weren’t each other’s other half. It didn’t take.”

That filled her with questions. So many questions. She knew very little about his family, complex and unique as they were. She tucked her curiosity away for a future conversation—she didn’t want to distract him from his discussion of their ceremony. “Once you’ve prepared the site and we have our vows, what happens next?”

“We sit at the fire and exchange our vows.”

“I like that.” His face seemed tense—perhaps she’d missed something of the process.

“In the fire are the eight brands.”

Again she asked, “Why must there be brands? Times have changed. Surely the ceremony can change, too?”

He shook his head. “It’s an honor for me to mark our vows in my flesh forever. It’s my burden to bear, as is the weight of all of our union. It’s my job to give you joy, to protect you, to shelter you.”

Tears blurred Fiona’s eyes. She reached for Kelan’s forearms and dragged her hands down them. “I don’t want you to hurt.”

“I have waited all my life to bear the marks of my other half.”

“Kelan”—she choked on a breath—“why does it have to be this way?”

“It’s the way of my ancestors.”

“I’ve never heard of this among the Lakota.”

“It isn’t their tradition. It was begun by my grandfather’s grandfather’s grandfather. I will carry the brands of my vows to you on my right arm, and your vows to me on my left. After our ceremony, you’ll bandage my forearms. When we return to Blade’s, I’ll wear leather cuffs to cover them. No one but you and I will see the scars. Our vows are for us to know and no one else.”

She nodded and rubbed her hands over his forearms.
 

He met her eyes. “The vows we give each other are sacred. The scars are the physical marks of those vows. It’s an honor to carry them. It means I’m worthy of my mate, and my mate is worthy of me.”

She frowned as she looked at him. “You’re so strong. Unafraid.”

“I am.” He gave a quiet chuckle that flashed his white teeth. “Otherwise, I could not be your other half.”

Chapter
 
Eleven

Ty leaned back against the headboard, his arms folded behind his head. Eden was sleeping soundly next to him. They were safe and comfortable while Kelan and Fiona were in the control of a fiend. The team was taking shifts trying to find them. He should be taking advantage of his four-hour sleep rotation, but worry ate at his nerves.
 

He rolled out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans, then stepped out of their bedroom to pace the length of the hall and back, trying to figure out what was keeping him up.

Their work since leaving the Red Team had always seemed personal. From the fact that it brought them all back here to his childhood home, Kit’s hometown, and Rocco’s home state, to some coincidences he was beginning to think weren’t happenstance at all.

King seemed to have his tentacles everywhere. His operation was too far-reaching, too mature to have been built within a single lifetime. How far back did this thing go? Ty’s own grandfather had been involved in part of it. Was that even the beginning of King’s operation?

How old was King?

He wondered how deeply involved his mother’s family was. Who else on the team had tethers in that hidden world? Was it behind what drove the government to set up Max, securing his indoctrination? Rocco was outside the organization. He’d grown up the only child of a ranch cook. And Kit wasn’t involved; he’d grown up a town outcast as the son of an addict, but he was tied to this because of their friendship.
 

And then there was Greer, who was raised as an assassin by a grandfather mired in spec ops missions. What was it that his grandfather had been a part of? Kelan wasn’t involved, though he and his brothers all came from the private security world, as did his parents. Who were they providing security to? Angel was a salt of the earth type, son of Puerto Rican parents, raised in the Bronx. Ty couldn’t see a connection there. Nor could he with Selena.

The only two left to consider were Val and Owen. And what did any of them really know about Owen? It was no secret that he and Val were cousins, that Owen had lived most of his teen years with Val’s family. What happened to Owen’s family that caused the death of his parents? And why did Owen keep secrets from Val, his own cousin, when they were practically brothers? Owen knew the rogue Red Teamer they were after. They were in the first class of Red Teamers together.
 

And now they’d learned that Fiona and Lion were offspring of the man they hunted.
 

He leaned against the wall and slipped down to the floor. Propping his wrists on his knees, he stared at the door on the opposite side of the hall, realizing he’d come downstairs.

Someone came out of the den. Greer.

“Blade,” Greer said quietly. “Can’t sleep?”

Ty shook his head and got to his feet. He grabbed Greer’s arm and pulled him through the door to the basement, shutting it behind him. The big space was under construction. They were building out rooms and halls, a kitchenette, bathrooms. Whether the space would be used for team offices or for future classrooms for kids of the team hadn’t yet been decided. Construction had been stopped for the moment, given that half the team was off site. The bare wood frames, the smell of freshly sawed wood, and the maze of skeletal walls were comforting; it made the basement look new and foreign and nothing like the space he had been caged in as a kid.

“S’up, Blade?” Greer asked.

“Do you trust me?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“One that needs a straight answer.”

“Yes. I trust you. Now that we got that out of the way, can I be in the secret club?”

Ty looked at him. “You’re in it already. We all are.”

Greer shook his head. “I know your mind works in cryptic ways, but what the fuck are you talking about?”

“We’re trying to find King, but we’re not going about it the right way.”

“Okay. I’ll bite. How should we be looking for King?”

“Start with us.”

Greer’s brows shot up. “You think one of us is King?”

“No. But I think we’re all tied to him. Somehow. Even if it’s only through the Red Team we’ve all served.” Blade walked away, pivoted, and came back.