Gods and Mortals: Fourteen Free Urban Fantasy & Paranormal Novels Featuring Thor, Loki, Greek Gods, Native American Spirits, Vampires, Werewolves, & More (202 page)

“
U
riah
,” Cole called out. “What’s going on? My dad said Claire was sick, or something, and told me to bring you something to drive. I came as fast as I could.”

Forgetting the frustrating shaman, my direction changed, rushing over to the massive truck Cole was climbing out of. Thomas’s Dodge Ram Mega Cab was his pride and joy. A part of me was thrilled to be taking it away. I held my hand out for the keys, but was quickly stalled when Cole snorted at my request. Claire’s brother or not, I really wanted to punch him. What was I supposed to drive then?

“Yeah right, Uriah. My dad would die if I let you take his truck,” Cole said. Shutting the cab door, he hurried around to the truck bed. Moonlight glinted off the smooth curves of a Harley Davidson Sportster. Thomas had made such a big deal about the bikes a few weeks ago when he brought them home. Accusing him of being in the throes of a mid-life crisis, Sarah had thrown a fit. They had not been allowed to leave the garage yet. Happy to cause Thomas pain of any kind, a rueful smile snuck onto my face.

Cole had the bike unloaded before I was done enjoying my small moment of vengeance. Tossing me a helmet, he asked, “So what’s going on?”

Forgetting the bike immediately, my gaze turned back toward the house. “Claire was poisoned,” I said, unable to come up with any better word for the situation. “I have to go find someone who can help her.” Snatching the keys from Cole’s hand, I climbed onto the bike and brought the engine to life.

“Poisoned?” Cole asked. “By who?”

“Your father,” I growled before kicking away the stand and twisting the clutch. Not used to such rough treatment, the bike leapt forward when I slammed the gas down as far as it would go. Leaning into the wind, I kept the sleek bike running hard. The cool night air rushed into my face and lungs. I struggled to clear my head, to force away thoughts of Thomas’s betrayal. It wasn’t until I heard a second roar coming up behind me that I eased up on the gas. Cole’s voice crackled in my ear through a set of speakers wired into the helmet.

“Damn it, Uriah, you’re going to overheat the engine before we even get off the reservation if you don’t ease up. They’re not used to running so hard. There not used to running at all, actually.”

Slowing my pace, I stared at Cole in confusion. I forgot Thomas had brought home two of the motorcycles, thinking he would be forgiven if he claimed it was for father-son bonding. “What are you doing?” I asked.

Cole’s eyebrows rose. His shoulders shrugged as if I had just asked him why the sky was blue. “I’m coming with you,” he said as if the answer should have been perfectly obvious.

Eyeing the pack strapped behind his seat, I realized what had taken him so long to get to my house. He had taken the time to pack extra clothes before running off. I doubted there was anything useful in the pack. As usual, Cole was more concerned about staving off boredom, and looking good while doing it, than being on time. I sighed. That was harsh. Cole didn’t deserve my anger, though he was still plenty irritating.

After admitting to myself this afternoon that I could make people do what I wanted I decided I should try very hard not to tell people to do anything, just ask them. I was willing to put that on hold for Cole. Picking the pace back up, I turned on Cole. “Don’t be such an idiot. I barely have enough supplies for myself, and I’m not even sure where I’m going. Your parents need you. Go back,” I said firmly.

Cole was only about eight months older than me, but his pampered lifestyle as Thomas Brant’s only son had always made him seem much younger. There was no way I was letting him tag along behind me the whole way. Seeing that he was still following, I came to an abrupt halt. The bike fishtailed and nearly threw me to the ground. Cole slowed as well, driving back a few yards to stop beside me.

“I’m not going back, Uriah,” he said. The fact that he didn’t just turn around surprised me, and ticked me off. His easy nonchalance irritated me even more than usual.

“I am not asking you to turn back, Cole, I’m telling you. You are not coming with me.” I moved to start riding again, but Cole quickly steered his bike in front of me. “Stop being a jerk, Cole. I’m not babysitting you so you can get out from under your dad’s eye for a few days.”

Swinging his leg around, Cole stepped off his bike and sauntered over to me. Why wasn’t he listening? I told him to go home, but he was still arguing with me. Was there some kind of obnoxiousness filter I couldn’t break through with him? Cole planted himself in front of me with a smirk. His casual arrogance electrified my mind. Ready to push him out of my way, I didn’t even realize Cole was moving until a sharp pain slammed into my face. I felt air rushing past me as I fell backward. The bike came with me. Crashing into the rock strewn ground blasted the air from my lungs.

I was laid out on the ground, gasping for breath, watching the stars swim in frenzied circles. I tried to pull myself up, ready to launch a fist at my unwanted companion, when I realized six hundred pounds of motorcycle had pinned my leg to the ground. Cole waited for me to ask him to help me up. I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. Straining against the metal, I heaved it up in one swift push. Cole’s jaw dropped. Watching Cole’s smirk disappear made the pain in my leg inconsequential. Using the bike for support, I started to stand up.

The glint of black steel under Cole’s light jacket stopped me cold.

“I’m not leaving,” Cole said fiercely, unaware of what I had seen.

“Where the hell did you get that?” I said, still shocked by the look of violence etched in his features.

Cole stopped, confused by my angry question. Following my gaze, he realized what I was staring at. “Did you even bring a weapon?” Cole asked.

“What are you talking about? Why would I need to bring a gun? I’m just going to find some guy that can help Claire,” I said. Every minute I spent talking was time I wasn’t looking for Claire’s Twin Soul. “I don’t plan on killing anybody along the way, Cole. I don’t need your help. Especially not that kind of help.”

“If you think you can just wander through the desert alone, with no weapon, you’re a fool,” Cole said. His tone was dark.

I suddenly wondered why I was listening to him. Cole knew nothing more of the world outside the reservation than I did. Traveling to Santa Fe once or twice a week with his dad hardly qualified him to give me advice on the dangers of travelling alone. My finger raised, I voiced my demand one more time.

“Go home, now, Cole.”

“You’re not the only one who loves her, Uriah.” Pure determination was etched in his face. His sister was in trouble, and he was going to help. Maybe his obnoxiousness wasn’t what was keeping him from listening to me. Cole’s hands swung down fluidly, out and away from his body, turned up in a peaceful gesture.

The immature, flighty Cole I thought I knew had disappeared, replaced by this determined rescuer, casually carrying a gun and speaking of the dangers of the road. I had wondered whether this was about Claire as much as a chance to get away. There wasn’t any doubt anymore. Suddenly Cole’s talk of danger reminded me of another’s warning. It had only been a few minutes earlier that Quaile stood before me, warning me of wars and beasts. I hadn’t even considered needing a weapon before rushing away. What else had Cole planned for that I hadn’t?

“Fine,” I said, my anger dissipated somewhat. Calmly nodding his thanks, Cole sauntered over to my bike and held a hand out to me. I took it and pulled myself back up. Having Cole along with me still didn’t make me very happy, but I had to respect his desire to come. Spending too much time with Cole made my head want to explode. He could talk for hours about cell phones and cars, neither of which I had or cared about. Back on the bike, I wanted to get going before anything else tried to delay me.

A quick pull on my arm had me turning back toward Cole. Pointing to my helmet, Cole said, “Keep the headset on.”

I wanted to throw the helmet into a pit of rattlesnakes if it meant I wouldn’t have to listen to Cole the whole trip, but I knew my mom would be furious if she knew I was riding without one. I took a moment to adjust the helmet so it would ride more snugly on my head. The chirp of Cole’s voice in my ear renewed my desire to punch him in the face. I didn’t even hear what he said. Wanting to floor it, but knowing how foolish that would be, I eased the bike back onto the road. Looking over at Cole, I asked, “Do your parents even know you left?”

His serious demeanor cracked, the corners of his mouth turning up. “They’ll never even notice I’m gone.”

I shook my head wearily. That was the Cole I knew. Of course his parents would notice when he didn’t come back. Most likely, Thomas would blame me for Cole’s brash decision and set the police on me the second I stepped back in San Juan. Sarah would be furious. “Your mom is going to kill you when we get back,” I said. I couldn’t see his face, but the sharp cough I heard through the headset told me that he was not excited about the prospect of facing his mother. She could be just as fierce and stubborn as her husband when it came to protecting her children.

“She’ll understand,” Cole said after clearing his voice again.

“Well, I guess she has some other stuff to deal with right now, anyway.” I clenched the handlebars as I thought about Thomas. I was confident Sarah would dole out a deserving punishment, and if the Elders got into it as well, Thomas would be paying penance for the rest of his life. Quaile had little patience for fools who risked going to the Shaxoa for help. Even speaking Zarafen’s name in Quaile’s presence brought a sharp slap more often than not.

“Like I said, I doubt my mom will even realize I’m gone,” Cole said again. This time I didn’t argue with him. If I were sitting next to Claire when her life was in danger, I doubted I would notice much of anything else either.

I wondered if there was any hope in my mission. The only clue I had was that at some point in her life Claire would have met her Twin Soul in Tucson. Surely Quaile knew more than she had been willing to tell me. Again I wondered what she had been about to say when Cole had driven up, and grimaced at the thought. I had so many unanswered questions screaming for answers right now. I could hardly stand being inside my own mind.

Cole would undoubtedly prove to be a hindrance, but for the time being I seemed unable to get rid of him. Pulling ahead of Cole just enough to get him out of my sightline, I turned my attention to the surrounding desert, needing something to distract me. For some, the high desert was nothing more than sand and scrub brush, but I had always enjoyed the simple lines of the scenery. The sandstone bluffs, backlit by the setting sun were a monument to the power of wind and time.

The massive structures had been etched by the elements, wind scouring the sides of the towers, time eroding the steep cliffs into graceful slopes. Smaller sandstone monuments dotted the landscape, each unique, creating a stage of posing dancers on the desert floor. The landscape reminded me of Claire, dancing onstage in a swirl of beauty and grace.

Although the desert looked barren to unfamiliar eyes, I watched the small, twisted piñon and juniper trees clustered in small groups, wondering what animals were taking shelter in their branches. I knew that while some animals were crawling into the holes and cracks of the desert, others were just beginning to wake up. Coyotes, grey wolves, spotted owls, bats, and others were about to begin their nightly hunts. The far off howl of a coyote made me shiver. I hoped they really were far away and would stay that way for the night.

The long line of asphalt stretched on, winding its way through the quiet desert night. A few hours later, my head started to dip, sending my bike into lazy arcs. I couldn’t keep going for much longer. Tucson was eight hours from San Juan, and that would most likely only be the beginning. Up well before dawn, everything that had happened that day started to take its toll. Fatigue seeped through the adrenaline fueled wave I had been riding since seeing my mom attacked. Cole rode smoothly, alert and ready for any kind of danger.

“Keep your eyes out for somewhere to stop for the night,” I said. Cole nodded, happy to have his presence acknowledged. His head swiveled from side to side, scanning the open landscape.
At least he’s eager
, I thought. I would be more than happy to let him take the first watch tonight. I had no fear of roaming bandits like Cole, but there were plenty of coyotes and other predators in the desert, hungry for what little food I had with me.

Thoughts of sleeping, even if it was on the ground, sapped my remaining strength. Guilt swept over me as I thought of Claire lying on a bed, her life slipping away. How could I worry about getting enough sleep when I held her only chance at survival in my hands? Hoping Cole would find a campsite soon, I struggled to keep my eyes open.

“
U
riah
.”

I heard the words a few hours later, somewhere in the distance, but couldn’t force myself to respond.

“Uriah,” Cole said, his voice practically yelling in my ear. A wobble in my steering snapped my eyes open. I had almost fallen asleep. I may have actually been asleep, though I’m not sure how I’d kept the bike upright if I was. Not wanting to think about what would happen if I fell asleep, I answered him. “What, Cole?”

“I think I know of a place to stop for the night,” Cole said. “It’s just ahead on the right.”

“What? Oh, great. Lead the way,” I mumbled. Slowing quickly, Cole turned onto an unmarked dirt road. Finally fully awake again, I saw the low line of sandstone bluffs against the dark, starlit horizon. We drove right up to the base before rolling to a stop where the bluff pulled back enough to create a half formed cave guarded by desert trees on two sides.

“Me and some of my friends have camped out here before. I wasn’t sure I could find it in the dark, but here it is,” Cole said proudly. Bottles and other bits of litter were scattered around the area. Apparently Cole and his friends weren’t the only ones that came out here. At least it was deserted tonight.

“Yeah, that’s great, Cole. Thanks.” Pulling myself down from my bike I heard the quiet trickle of falling rocks. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Cole asked. He watched me, probably wondering if I was actually awake.

“Nothing,” I said. “It was just the wind or something.” I reached for the pack strapped to the back of my bike and realized it was way too small to hold any kind of blanket. I was so unprepared for this trip it was astounding. Maybe Cole had brought an extra blanket.

“Uriah!” Cole screamed.

Turning toward his panicked voice, I saw it. The sleek tawny fur shimmered in the moonlight. My gut clenched, and threatened to twist me in two at the sight of another mountain lion. The sickening feelings from earlier today returned in full. Trying to control my panic, I held perfectly still. The other mountain lion backing down from me was just a weird fluke. There was no way I would get that lucky twice in one day. In reality, the way this day was going, it was a sure bet luck would not be on my side.

Ready to run for my life, I watched the animal for any sign of attack. The mountain lion stood calmly, watching our movements. Amazed it hadn’t yet attacked, I risked a glance at Cole. In one swift motion, he tossed a gun to me, raising his own in his other hand. Caught off guard, I was forced to take a step toward the animal to reach the weapon. My heart nearly stopped. The mountain lion tensed, but didn’t run away or attack.

“What is it doing?” Cole asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve never heard of a cougar behaving like this.” Saying that felt like déjà vu would have been an understatement. Despite its size, the cat looked at me, as curious as a kitten. Watching every move we made, it seemed relatively unafraid. I knew I should be running in terror, but a strange compulsion to approach the animal overpowered my better judgment. Hesitantly, I took a step toward it.

“Uriah, stop,” Cole hissed. His gun ready, he took a step to the side.

The cougar didn’t seem interested in what Cole was doing, only in me. I wanted to puke, but I took another step. The cougar stepped forward as well. Cole sucked in a lungful of air. He was ready to spring. Holding a hand up to him, I warned him to wait. I needed to keep going. I had no idea what I was doing, but somehow I felt certain the animal wouldn’t attack. I could almost sense its thoughts. It waited for me to move closer.

Mirroring my movements, the mountain lion moved only after I took a step myself. In a matter of seconds, I stood within inches of the great beast’s muzzle. Cole watched in horror as the mountain lion’s head bobbed up and down, nuzzling my fingertips. My hands seemed to move without my permission, reaching up to scratch the cat’s ears as if it was an old family pet. My mind was begging me to run, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I held my stance, amazed and terrified. A deep thrumming came from the animal.

“What are you doing to it?” Cole whispered. “It’s purring!”

“Nothing,” I said. I was completely bewildered by the animal’s reactions. “I have no idea what’s happening.”

“Why doesn’t it attack us?”

I shrugged. I had no answer for that either. Wondering what made this mountain lion and the one that had attacked my mom behaved so strangely, yet so differently, I watched it carefully. The cougar moved freely now, curling itself around me, purring with contentment. I couldn’t help but move away, scared by its contact. The animal was undaunted, though, stepping forward again and nuzzling my hand until I reached up to rub the top of its head once more.

“What do we do now?” Cole asked in a childish whine.

I was about to speak when a picture began to form in my mind unexpectedly. Two forms wrapped in blankets slept beneath a scrubby piñon tree. I realized the tree was in the same area I was standing in right at that moment. The picture sharpened. Cole and I were the sleeping forms. The mountain lion sat nearby, guarding us. Guarding us from what, I couldn’t tell, but there was something the cougar feared would harm us. The instant my weary mind understood the messages, they vanished. The mountain lion licked my hand, bringing me back to reality.

I jumped away from the animal immediately. Where had the image come from? I stared back at the animal. Its head bobbed slightly. Was it nodding at me? It couldn’t possibly have come from the mountain lion, could it have? How was it able to reach into my thoughts? The connection shocked me, but somehow the communication felt very natural to me, as if I should have always been able to do it. “I think it’s is offering to guard us while we sleep,” I said shakily.

“Are you insane? I’m not sleeping with that thing nearby. We have to leave right now, Uriah.” Cole took a slow step backward, his gun still held firmly in front of him.

As if understanding Cole’s discomfort, the mountain lion turned and walked to the edge of the rocky indention. Casually, the mountain lion faced the bluffs and sat on its haunches. As I watched it sit so calmly, my fear disappeared on the warm desert breeze. Every part of my soul told me to trust it, told me it would protect me. Then there was that underlying fear that came from the animal. There was something out there in the dark that it feared. Trusting it made little sense, but I knew we might not make it through the night if I didn’t.

“I don’t think its leaving, Cole, and neither are we,” I said with authority. I didn’t think I would ever be able to explain the trust I was putting in the animal, but I was convinced I was right to do so.

Sputtering out useless objections, Cole made no move to get ready to sleep. “Uriah, that thing is a wild animal! We can’t just lie down and go to sleep while it’s sitting there waiting to eat us.”

“If it was going to hurt us, it would have done it by now, don’t you think?” I countered.

Cole paused for half a second before saying, “It’s a wild animal. Think of your mom for crying out loud!”

My face soured immediately. Memories of the blood seeping out of her leg ran through my mind. I had already relived them too many times to count that day, wishing I had gotten there sooner. “I know what happened to my mom, Cole. I’m not an idiot. But I’m telling you that this mountain lion is not going to hurt us.” I paused, knowing that I did, indeed, sound like an idiot. “I can’t explain it, Cole, but I know it won’t hurt us. Just try to get some sleep, okay?”

Cole stared at me, most likely regretting his decision to follow me. If he wasn’t here in the morning, I would certainly understand. The calm feeling the animal seemed to emit was apparently not quite reaching Cole. It sat placidly, taking in our exchange. I wasn’t sure, but he seemed to be listening.

Watching the cat carefully, I slowly walked back to my dust covered bike. Still unable to explain the calmness I felt at the mountain lion’s presence, I had no other option than to simply take it a face value. Feelings of loyalty and friendship emanated from the animal. Whatever the source of these strange emotions, I was willing to take whatever help I could get at this point. Making friends with a mountain lion seemed relatively minor when it came to saving Claire’s life. There was no going back. Quaile was at least right about that.

“Cole,” I said, interrupting his continuing tirade, “do you have an extra blanket?” He stared at me as if I had suddenly become the mountain lion myself. “No? Fine, I’ll just use my extra shirt.”

Removing the spare clothing quickly, I folded the thin t-shirt and walked to the lopsided tree I had seen in the mountain lion’s vision. My earlier exhaustion rolled over me once again, stronger than before. Something about what had just happened seemed very familiar to me, but I had no more patience for Cole or the mountain lion. Lying down at the tree’s base, I fell asleep within minutes, my subconscious trying to help me find answers to at least some of the questions I had.

A
t fourteen years old
, the rifle felt heavy in my hands. My dad was only a few feet away, squatting by the tree next to me. Neither of us spoke. We just waited. My breath moving in and out of my body was the only indicator of time I had. The minutes of my first hunting trip passed slowly. Silently I wished for a deer to wander into the valley.

The rustle of something moving through the dry leaves covering the ground caught my ear. I motioned to my dad that I had heard something. He looked at me questioningly. He must not have heard it. Insisting that I had heard a noise, I pointed at where it had come from. We both looked over at the spot to see the soft brown nose of a buck pushing through the brush. My dad blinked in surprise.

Emerging into the sunlight, the buck lowered its head and began chewing on the tough grass at its feet. A subtle motion from my dad caught my attention. When I glanced over at him he motioned for me to get my gun ready and take the shot. My gun came up as I refocused on the deer. With the crosshairs directly over the kill spot, I stared at the creature. It was beautiful. I wondered what it would feel like to run my hands over its silky coat.

No longer interested in its meal, the buck lifted its head and looked straight at me. My dad whispered for me to take the shot quickly, but I couldn’t, not while it was staring at me. The fear the buck should have had for me seemed to have disappeared as it started walking toward me.

My rifle was still aiming right at it. All I had to do was pull the trigger. Walking across the field, the buck came within twenty feet of the tree I was next to and stood watching me. I felt like it was waiting, but I didn’t know what it was waiting for.

The buck walked a little closer. Its bright round eyes regarded me without fear. My finger was tight against the trigger, but I couldn’t bring myself to pull it back completely. I wanted to. I wanted to show my dad that I was old enough to be here with him. I had been so excited to come. The buck should have already run away. I knew it saw me. Why was it staring at me like that?

“I can’t do it, Dad.”

I couldn’t stand it looking at me anymore. Dipping its head slightly, the buck turned away and started walking back into the trees. My shoulders slumped and the gun rested on my knee without ever taking a shot. Feeling my dad’s hand on my shoulder, I dropped my head. I had wanted to impress him so badly. When I finally looked up, I expected to see disappointment in his eyes. Instead, I saw understanding and pride. I didn’t really understand what he had to be proud about, I couldn’t take the shot, but I knew that look so well I was sure of what I saw.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I just couldn’t shoot it while it was looking at me like that,” I said.

“It’s all right, Uriah. Your mom will probably have dinner ready soon, anyway. We should head back,” Dad said.

Mom wasn’t expecting us back for a few more hours. The hunting trip was over, though. Spending the day with my dad had been great, but I had mixed feelings about what had just happened. “Would you have shot it?” I asked my dad.

He shrugged. “I don’t know, son.”

“Should I have shot it?”

“No. I don’t think you should have.” He said it with such certainty, as if he thought there was a reason behind what had just happened. I was just relieved he thought I had made the right decision.