Chaos Bites Part 22

"You're willing to do whatever's necessary to speak with him?"

I didn't hesitate. "Yes."

"You do love him."

"If I didn't I wouldn't be what I am."

"All right." The coyote headed for the trees. "Come along."

We climbed to the top of Inyan Kara. I was tempted several times to s.h.i.+ft into a phoenix and meet him there, but it hardly seemed fair to let the old man-coyote clamber up alone.

At the apex lay a plateau. Rocky here, with dry brittle gra.s.s there, the only thing beautiful about the place was the view.

Devil's Tower and Bear b.u.t.te loomed nearby, and the plains seemed to stretch on forever-brilliant green and dusty gold giving way to neon blue dotted with white. I was mesmerized.

"Do you have something that belonged to him?" Sani asked.

"d.a.m.n."

"I thought you'd done this before."

"I have." Last time I'd used Sawyer's toothbrush. When the spell didn't work, I think I might have tossed it into the desert.

"Didn't he ever give you anything, girl? Or was your love completely one-sided?"

More than likely it had been. Sawyer didn't love. Not anymore. But he had given me something.

I lifted the turquoise from my neck. Then I laid the stone on the ground and drew a circle around it. Sani nodded his approval. "You never know where the dead have been, what they've done, who they've seen, or what they might have been offered."

The circle would contain them. We couldn't raise ghosts and let them wander through the earth like Jacob Marley.

"Now bring the storm," Sani ordered.

"What if I need help? What if I don't have enough power to do this alone?"

"I'll help." Desire flickered in his eyes.

I clenched my hands and forced myself not to run. s.e.x boosted my power, and if I needed more juice, Sani was eager to help. I didn't like it, but I'd asked for it, and I couldn't complain. I'd known that there'd come a day I'd have to do someone I did not want to do. Apparently that day was today.

Power surged through me along with frustration. I hated being forced to do anything. Fury sparked, and I went with it, throwing my hand toward the sky. The single bright white cloud opened and poured down rain. As the rain fell, the cloud turned from white, to gray, to black.

"Use both hands," Sani ordered.

I shot the other up to match the first, and the wind whirled in, kicking around dust and dry gra.s.s, tugging clouds over the distant horizon and drawing them toward us at high speed. The sun became shadowed, and the mountain beneath our feet stirred.

"Thunder!" the Old One cried, and the earth shook.

I was soaked to the skin, my hair plastered to my head; Sani's fur dripped. Within the circle, mud welled over my turquoise necklace, bubbling as if the rain were hot as lava.

Sani curled around my legs, rubbing his wet, musty coat against my pants; his muzzle nuzzled my thighs. I fought a shudder of disgust.

"Now the lightning," he whispered, his breath so hot against my crotch I thought steam might rise from my wet jeans.

I reached for the lightning, felt it crackle then die.

"Again," Sani shouted.

I closed my eyes, imagined the bolts tearing from the sky, slamming into the ground; the fire would blaze and then die, the smoke would create a curtain, and when it disappeared Sawyer would be here.

I inched my fingers higher, reaching with all the power I had for a single, solitary flare.

Zzztt!

The smell of spent fireworks fell with the rain but no lightning came. I lowered my arms, opened my eyes, and admitted the truth. "I can't."

Sani growled and sank his teeth into my hand.

Pain erupted, so deep I fell to my knees. "What. The. f.u.c.k?"

The coyote's snout appeared in front of me, and he breathed in deeply, as if trying to catch a whiff of . . . my pain? Then he licked my wet face and c.o.c.ked his head. "No tears?"

"I never . . . cry," I managed. Except when Sawyer died. Fat lot of good that crying had done me. I'd learned long ago that tears were a sign of weakness, and the weak did not survive.

My uninjured hand crept toward the silver knife at my belt. Sani latched on to it before my fingers got anywhere near.

"Dammit!" The wounds would heal quickly. But they still hurt enough to make me gasp, even when he released me.

"My power, little girl, lies in pain." His breath cascaded over my face; I caught the scent of my own blood and my demon howled. "You want to bring that lightning, give me some agony."

I gritted my teeth. "No."

"You said you'd do whatever was necessary."

"I thought you meant s.e.x."

He laughed. "You'd rather have s.e.x than cry?"

"Who wouldn't?"

His laughter died. "I'm not Sawyer."

Sawyer got a power boost from s.e.x-like me. That had seemed kind of sick. Until I met this guy.

His power lay in pain, which might be the reason, or at least one of them, that Sawyer had banished him. The old coyote was lucky Sawyer hadn't killed him. Of course, if he had, I'd be s.h.i.+t out of luck right now. How many true skinwalkers were trolling this earth? I didn't think very many.

"Fine," I muttered, and screamed as if the pain in my hands wasn't fading by the second.

"Very good," he whispered, his voice breathless. He was enjoying this far too much. "Now try for that lightning again."

I stretched for the sky with one hand; Sani chewed on the other. I shrieked, and the lightning burst from the still-streaming clouds, slamming into the ground so close to us my scalp tingled.

The mountain trembled. Ozone sizzled. Smoke billowed from the black mark in the earth, and when it cleared- The turquoise still lay alone in the circle.

CHAPTER 21.

Sani released my hand, and before I could stop myself I twitched my wrist. The coyote flew several feet and smacked into a tree.

"Whoops," I said.

He got to his feet and shook his head, stumbling sideways a bit. "Don't do that again."

"I thought you liked pain."

"Not my own."

The rain stopped; the clouds blew away on a heated wind. The thunder moved off to the east with the remnants of the lightning.

"Where the h.e.l.l's Sawyer?" I demanded.

The coyote crossed to the turquoise, albeit a little unsteadily. "That should have worked."

"It didn't."

He lifted his head. "You're sure he's dead?"

"Yes." I frowned.

And no.

"You don't sound sure." His dark eyes narrowed. "What happened?"

"He disappeared."

"Into thin air?"

"Maybe." I hadn't actually seen him go poof.

Sani cursed, using words I didn't know. "He's alive."

My heart leaped at the words, even though I knew they weren't true. "He can't be."

"Why not?"

I clapped my hands and thunder answered, flicked my hand and a nearby tree toppled over with a resounding crack. "That's why not."

"Of course," he murmured. "You gained your magic through his death. If he weren't truly dead, you wouldn't have it."

He sounded relieved. I wondered what Sani had done to Sawyer while he'd been teaching him. If that, perhaps, as well as Sani's command of black magic, was why Sawyer had cursed him.

"If he were in the afterworld," Sani continued, "the land to the north and beneath the earth, he would be compelled to stand in the circle and answer the questions of the one who raised him."

"But he wasn't, so what does that mean?"

The coyote collapsed onto the ground with a huff then laid his chin on his paws. I scooped up the turquoise and flipped the chain over my head.

Sani raised his snout. "Have you dreamed of him?" I started. "You have!"

"So? I loved him. I killed him. You think I wouldn't dream of him?"

"What kind of dreams?" I looked away, but not before Sani saw the truth. "s.e.x dreams."

I shrugged. "It's Sawyer."

"That's how he's doing it." The coyote was on his feet, hair bristling.

"Doing what?"

"Skinwalkers possess an affinity for ghosts. Some say they have s.e.x with the dead."

I'd heard that before. I hadn't liked it any better then.

"What do you say?" I asked.

"That at least one skinwalker has been having s.e.x with the dead."

My stomach rolled. He meant me.

"Sawyer's power lies in s.e.x," he said. "To enhance his magic in the past, I'd guess you've helped him."

Since that went without saying, I didn't say.

"He's enhanced that magic now by invading your dreams."

"He's dead. How can he enhance anything?"

"How many times has he come to you?"

"Three." That I remembered.

"Has he become more real each time?"