Desert Heart (The Wolves of Twin Moon Ranch Book 4) (4 page)

“Can’t we get any more information out of that contact of yours?” Ty asked.

“Nope,” Lana said with a firm shake of the head. “So far, it’s all just vague—”

A fist thumped on the door, and Zack stepped in, his forehead lined with worry. The woman following him—his mate, Rae—looked just as anxious, and not about the repercussions of interrupting a meeting. Those two were among a handful of pack members with high enough standing to get away with it.

“Sorry,” Zack said. “But we got trouble, Ty.”

Tina winced at the words. Didn’t they already have enough trouble?

“The coyote pack has reports of—” Zack started, then broke off sharply, looking around as if he’d already let too much slip.

Tina stiffened. Zack was the pack’s best tracker. For him and Rae, a skilled hunter, to look so concerned meant there had to be some kind of intruder on the prowl. One powerful enough to pose a serious risk to the packs.

“Atsa’s on his way,” Zack said. His voice was studiously even, his face grave.

Atsa, the ruling coyote elder from the neighboring pack to the west? The aging Navajo leader rarely left home territory, and never for social calls.

“Atsa is coming here?” Tina blurted.

“Now.” Zack nodded.

Two dusty pickups pulled up outside, and all eyes peered through a window as the white-haired elder eased out of one and made his way toward the council house. His steps were cautious but dignified, and heavy with concern.

Tina glanced at Ty in time to see Lana sliding a gentle hand down his cheek. The lines of Ty’s face eased into the briefest of smiles as he leaned closer to his mate. It was one of those moments when the space around them almost seemed to glow, and Tina was suspended between wanting to watch and the urge to turn her back. That sureness, that trust. That you-and-I-can-conquer-all… What she wouldn’t give to have a partnership like that.

And just like that, her thoughts boomeranged back to Rick. Rick, with his earnest eyes and easy smile. Rick, with his magical touch. Rick, with the soft voice, asking her to leave everything and follow him.

Rick, forcing an understanding smile when she’d turned him down.

Ty strode to the door to meet Atsa outside in the ultimate sign of respect between ruling alphas. Zack and Rae stepped forward, too, exuding the badass hunter vibe they did so well. Between those two and Tina’s other packmates, Twin Moon pack could easily deal with whatever trouble Atsa was coming to report. Right?

That’s what Tina wanted to believe, but her wolf was pacing inside, rumbling in concern. The last time Atsa had visited, it was to warn them about a band of coyote rogues. What danger was lurking in the desert now?

All eyes swung to the entrance, then flicked downward in a sign of respect as Ty held the door open for Atsa. The coyote elder had always seemed ancient to Tina, even when she was a kid. But now he was even older. Wiser. And definitely concerned.

When Tina looked up again, Atsa nodded to Ty. The room practically hummed with their power. Two alphas at opposite ends of their reigns. One, the wise old alpha; the other, a powerful young gun.

“Our allied packs have faced many challenges over the years,” Atsa started.

Tina found herself nodding warily. Not a promising overture. The coyote-shifter Navajos had proven to be loyal allies again and again. They needed each other, Twin Moon and Echo Creek packs, to guard their secrets from the human world.

“I fear we have a new challenge now.”

Tina held her breath, as did everyone else in the room. What was it this time? Rogues? Vampires? Power-hungry shifters from the north? They’d faced all those enemies in recent years, and each time come out ahead, if barely alive. The faces around her were grim.

“Our cousins in the eastern part of the state report a disturbance.”

Ty lifted an eyebrow.

“A demon awakened,” Atsa whispered, and the room went still. So still Tina could hear the quiet swish of a pine bough over the roof.

“Demon?” Ty’s harsh voice broke the silence a moment later. “What kind?”

Tina exchanged glances with Lana. There were demons of all kinds, and none were easy to destroy.

Atsa swallowed, and when he spoke again, his ancient voice was a whisper. “Hellhound.”

A shiver ran down Tina’s spine. Zack and Rae exchanged knowing glances, and even Ty went stiff.

“Where?” he demanded. “How sure are you?”

Zack shot Ty a sharp look that said,
Atsa wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t sure
.

The Navajo elder tilted his head left then right. “We have a report from two hundred miles east. Until now, the sightings have been unconfirmed. Red eyes in the night, howling from deep inside the earth.”

Tina shivered. A ghost story come to life. But was it really true?

“Red eyes and noises could be anything,” Cody pointed out.

Atsa nodded. “That was what we thought, until…”

He trailed off and let the next seconds stretch into a minute. A full, quiet minute in which Tina counted the beats of her racing heart.

“Until?” Ty barked.

“Until the sightings stopped. At the same time, our shaman had a vision of a hellhound, pacing an underground cavern. Looking for some means of escape. Looking for an exit to our world.” Atsa paused again and closed his eyes. “Finding one.”

Tina’s heart stuttered, then thumped on.
Finding a way out?

“Our shaman saw a vision through the hellhound’s eyes. A tunnel, a flickering light. A man’s voice, calling in pain. And then a view.” Atsa’s arms swept over toward the windows. “This view. Our view. Bitterroot Valley.”

The council house went quiet and stayed that way long after Atsa left. Having said his piece, the old man looked fragile and worn as he leaned on the arm of the grandson who helped him outside.

Tina, like the others, watched Atsa make his way to his truck. Watched Ty walk alongside, and then stand for a long time, observing the dust rise then settle in the wake of the pickup before stalking back inside. He thumped four steps across the room, sank into a chair, and ran a hand through his brown-black hair.

Even then it was silent, everyone submerged in their own fears.

“Hellhound?” Lana ventured at last. Tina looked up to see her sister-in-law’s eyes skip across the room. There was a hopeful note in Lana’s voice. Hoping, perhaps, that the threat wasn’t so grave. “Back on the East Coast, we’ve had the occasional demon. Well, more like stories of demons, like my grandfather used to tell. But never a hellhound.”

Tina glanced around the room, then took a deep breath. “There hasn’t been one in generations. But according to the stories…” She swung her gaze toward the windows, in the direction Atsa had indicated.

“What do they say?” Lana prompted.

Tina told herself that talking about the old stories wasn’t the same as believing them. “Like Atsa said. They come from the bowels of the earth.”

“From hell,” Cody added. “Old-time miners used to tell stories about red eyes and ghostly howls from the inside of the earth.”

“Creatures bound to the underworld,” Tina continued. “But sometimes, they get…”

“Unleashed,” Lana whispered in the same grim tone Atsa had used.

Tina nodded. “Then they come looking for a way out. To our world.”

A long, contemplative silence set in while Tina’s mind filled in the blanks. Her skin broke out in goose bumps just imagining it.

“And then?” Lana asked.

Tina took a deep breath before answering. “They kill.”

“And kill,” Cody added.

“And kill,” Ty said, looking ready to tear the beast to pieces if it ventured onto his territory. But it wasn’t that easy. Tina knew that as well as Ty did.

“How do you get rid of one?” Lana’s voice remained steady, but worry flared in her eyes.

Tina saw her brothers exchange grim looks and then turn to Zack with something like hope. Maybe their half-coyote packmate could search his Navajo heritage to find some handy trick for destroying a hellhound.

Zack shook his head slowly, not quite a no, not quite a yes. “You tear it apart,” he said in a gritty, determined voice. “You get every wolf in the county together. Gather your allies…”

Tina’s mind raced. Who could they call on, other than the coyotes? “Westend pack, maybe?”

Everyone rolled their eyes.

“Just try prying them away from their casinos,” Rae snorted.

Tina saw Lana’s flit to Ty’s. “What about the javelinas?”

Twin Moon pack had recently renewed an alliance with a clan of shapeshifting boars. Massive wild pigs, as Lana had described them after a brief encounter, years ago.

Ty shook his head. “Good luck finding them.”

“There were those cougars…” Lana murmured, looking at Rae.

“But who knows where they are by now?” Rae said.

The room went silent.

“All right.” Tina tried sounding upbeat. “Us and the coyotes, then. What do we need to do to kill a hellhound?”

Zack pursed his lips, considering. “You attack it from all sides. Hope it doesn’t kill too many of you while you try to kill it.”

“Try?” Ty demanded, his voice harsh, unsatisfied.

“Try.” Zack stared right back.

They glared at each other until Lana butted in, waving her hand to dissipate the tension in the room. “How reliable is Atsa’s shaman?”

Just what Tina had been wondering herself.

“He’s had visions that are dead-on and others that never amount to anything.” Tina racked her memory, weighing up the shaman’s track record. “Mostly, he’s so vague, you can never be sure.”

“Sounds like a horoscope,” Lana muttered.

Tina had to smile. “Yeah, a little like that. Sometimes nothing comes of his ramblings. But other times…” She paused, remembering the exceptions. “Sometimes he’s right on the mark. Uncannily so. Like the time the pump house burned down.”

Cody nodded. “Like the flash flood a couple of years ago.”

Zack kicked at the floorboards. “Like the skinwalker troubles over in Weston when we were kids.”

Tina let her mind roam beyond the walls of the council house. She pictured the mighty cottonwoods, casting cool shade over the roof. The peaceful scattering of homes. The rocky bluffs in the distance, standing sentinel as they had for eons.

Security was an illusion. Peace, a fleeting thing. Trouble was always lurking somewhere. It was especially true in the desert, with its wrinkled hills and banded cliffs. With every fiery sunset, the red rocks whispered warnings, even as the purple mountains in the distance tried to soothe. There was beauty; there was danger. They were intertwined, like two separate strands making up a single thread.

Ty cleared his throat sharply. “Double the guard.”

“Got it.” Cody nodded, heading out. He’d rustle up every pack member capable of standing a good watch, Tina figured, then head straight over to check on the schoolhouse and his mate.

Ty turned to Zack and Rae. “You two good to head out?”

Tina watched the couple’s eyes meet and exchange a thousand devoted vows that said they’d fight to the death for each other and for the ranch.

“We’re on it,” Zack said, following Rae outside.

Which left Ty and Lana staring into each other’s eyes and Tina standing quietly on the side.

She tucked her upper lip under the lower and headed out silently. Good Old Tina. Unnoticed. Alone.

Rick spent the morning shoveling papers from one side of Henry Seymour’s desk to the other, trying to settle his mind on one thing. Anything. Water rights. Inventory. Deductible business losses. Anything but Tina.

He kept wandering out on the porch, though, looking toward the north. Toward Twin Moon Ranch.

Funny folk, they are.

He remembered standing there after a Thanksgiving feast, years ago, watching Tina and her family head over the hill. The Hawthornes had been invited every year, but they’d only come a few times. He remembered meeting Tina’s mother, that first year the Hawthornes had come over. Everyone had been sadder and quieter the second year. Angrier, the third. Distant, the fourth.

There was no fifth year, because the neighbor kids quit coming. But he and Tina still saw each other whenever they could.

He remembered it exactly, right down to Henry Seymour standing on the porch saying,
Funny folk, they are.

Good, hardworking folk,
Lucy Seymour had replied.

Rick remembered turning to look up at her. Her smiling face was a long way up back then, because he had been just a kid.

Good folk, all right,
Henry had agreed.
But there’s something different about them.

Rick couldn’t agree more. There’d always been something different about the Hawthorne clan. About the whole of Twin Moon Ranch. The way they kept to themselves. The way they moved, even: smooth and silent, like so many hunters on the prowl. The way they eyed the horizon and sniffed, like they could scent the onset of night.

We’re all human
, Lucy Seymour would say then pat her husband’s arm.
We all do our best.

Rick remembered his dad standing by his shoulder and giving it an encouraging squeeze.
We all do our best,
he’d echo, smiling so broadly, Rick knew his dad meant him. Doing his best.

Once upon a time, that meant sweeping up the kitchen and helping out around the ranch. Then doing his best had become slugging balls right out of the park. And now… His eyes swept across the view. The brown, undulating hills, the patches of prickly pear bursting with wine-red bulbs. Now he’d do his best with the ranch. He owed it to the Seymours, who’d treated him like one of their own.

His gaze drifted to the little rise to the west. Up there was the cemetery where four generations of Seymours were buried. Rick’s parents were buried there, too.

His mom—he could smile, thinking about her. He’d had enough time to get used to the idea that she was gone. But his dad… He frowned. He’d never get used to that, even with a year gone by. Would never accept the way a good man’s life came to a shattering end.

And just like that, before he could even think about what he was doing, Rick was in his truck and heading out the back road to Dead Horse Bluff. A fitting name, though it wasn’t only horses that died up there.