The Guardian (8 page)

She reached her room and didn't try to avoid yesterday's dirty clothes she hadn't had time to pick up. She stepped past her computer desk and sat down on her bed. A dream catcher, crafted of quail feathers by one of the
elders, fluttered from a nearby window. She liked the mosaic shadows the catcher shot over the room when the morning sun hit it. Order in the midst of messy chaos.

Her arms felt as if they had twenty-pound weights attached to them as she set the milk and chips on the bed stand, then pulled off her boots.

A knock at the door caused Fala to almost topple the milk carton.

F
ala's supernatural hearing zoned in on the two heartbeats behind the door. She knew them as well as she knew her own. She smiled as she walked to the door.

Before she reached it, she heard a loud banging. “Come on, Pokey, it's us.”

“Hold your shirt.” She opened the door, and Takala and Nina filled the doorway.

Takala, fair-haired, with one green eye and one blue, carried pride and arrogance in her squared shoulders and stiff posture. Meikoda had nicknamed her Lioness with Two Color Eyes. And she looked on the prowl in a pair of tight, low-cut leather pants, a black cutoff T-shirt with I'm Every Woman blazoned across her chest in bold, gold letters, and a black leather vest with small gold lame dragons embroidered all over it. A .357 Magnum protruded beneath the left side of her vest, and the leather straps of her shoulder holster peeked out from underneath
the bottom of her T-shirt. Rows of silver bracelets stacked her wrists and forearms. She also carried a switchblade strapped to her ankle, hidden beneath her black boots. The silver ring in her belly button gleamed against her flat abs. A tad overdone, but Takala dressed as she lived, on the wild side.

The antithesis of Takala, Nina—the youngest of the three—moved like a sprite: sensitive, shy, unearthly in a way that seemed she could ride to heaven on a moonbeam at any moment. A fragile vein throbbed in the paper-thin skin at her temple. Nina favored the Annie Hall look. A red, high-waisted dress flared around her ankles, and she wore a matching red handbag and flats.

They both grinned at Fala.

Takala spoke first. “You look like hell.”

“Thank you. Sleep deprivation does that.”

“Another case?”

“Yeah.”

“Bet you didn't expect us.” Takala nudged Nina forward. “Get moving, Buddha.”

Nina stumbled. “Hey, watch it. And don't call me that again.”

“Touchy, touchy.” Takala sometimes forgot her own strength and she looked truly contrite as she rubbed Nina's shoulder. “Sorry.”

Nina shot her a sour look as if she would never understand that brutish part of Takala.

All the Rainwater women were born with gifts. Takala had the gift of might; superhuman strength coursed through her body. As an added bonus she could see for miles in pitch blackness. Takala owned her own detective agency in Richmond; she commuted daily from the
reservation, an hour's drive. When Takala wasn't working on a case, she helped Fala and Meikoda hunt evil beings. Pure fun for her. Fala always wondered why she'd been the firstborn. Takala seemed much more suited to be the Tsimshian.

Nina was blessed with the gift of tongues. She not only spoke any language on Earth, but she had the ability to communicate with anything dead or alive, including ghosts, animals, trees, insects, reptiles. You name it, she could talk to it. Takala liked to tease her about it, hence the nickname Buddha. Nina had her own psychic website for animals, and she made a pretty good living at keeping cat and dog owners happy. She had made enough to put herself through college and had kept her anonymity doing it. Not bad for a little sister.

Fala found herself envying both her sisters for their freedom. “What are you guys doing here?”

“What, not glad to see us?” Takala sauntered past Fala.

“Not really. It's dangerous to be around me right now.” Katrina Sanecki had already lost her life. She didn't want Nina or Takala anywhere near Tumseneha.

“Yeah, we got the lecture from Elisi.” Takala used the Patomani word for “grandmother,” and it sounded like “Ay-lee-see.”

Nina thumbed in Takala's direction. “It's more dangerous being around her.”

“What do you mean?” Worry screwed up Fala's face.

“We're fine,” Takala said. “We just had a little trouble on the way in.”

“What kind?” Fear smashed through Fala at the thought of Tumseneha attacking them.

Takala waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, it's that Taylor case.”

“The drug dealer you helped arrest?”

“Yeah. His boys are after me. We butted heads, that's all.”

Nina grimaced. “More like they wanted to kill both of us in a car chase.”

Takala glowered at Nina. “But we lost them. Everything's cool.”

“Did you call the police?” Fala asked.

“Why? Got no proof yet. Didn't get a license number. But I'll get them. They don't know who they're dealing with.” Takala's eyes narrowed, and she looked like a cat forming a plan of attack.

“I'd feel better if you called the cops to let them know.”

“Why, so they can take a report and let it sit on a desk?” Takala eyed Fala as if she didn't think much of her line of law enforcement. “I'd rather deal with them myself.”

Fala and Nina gave each other a knowing look and shook their heads. They both knew Takala thought she was invincible. One day she'd learn differently.

Takala walked toward the kitchen. “I'm dying of thirst.” The only drawback to Takala's blessing was that she had a hummingbird's metabolism. Her favorite pastime was consuming calories.

“You know where the glasses are.”

When Takala disappeared, they moved to the love seat. Nina leaned over and whispered in Fala's ear, “Takala is in love with Akando.”

Fala's eyes widened in disbelief. Takala had the hots for Akando? Impossible.

Nina read Fala's mind and nodded, confirming the truth.

“Takala always looked so severe around Akando,” Fala whispered back.

“You know she rarely shows her emotions.”

Nina was right. Oh, jeez. Takala probably hated Fala for having to marry Akando. Could sisterly bonding get any better than this?

“You still have this poor animal.” The fridge door opened.

“Don't step on him.” Nina raised her voice to be heard from the living room.

“I'm not.” The refrigerator door slammed and Takala appeared, holding a Woodchuck Ale.

Takala passed up a chair and started to flop down on the coffee table.

Nina gestured toward the table and looked at Takala as if she were a bull in a glass factory. “Careful,” she cautioned.

Takala gave her a long, suffering look, then gingerly sat and faced her sisters. She stared into Fala's eyes point-blank, her expression taking on a confrontational mask that Fala knew all too well. The warrior in Takala confronted adversity head-on.

Takala took a swig and asked, “Why couldn't you finish the ceremony?”

“What difference does it make to you?” Fala asked. Better get it out in the open. Takala tended to fester, and a festering Takala wasn't a pleasant thing.

“You hurt Akando.” Beneath Takala's aggressive
expression was the real reason for her pique: she had dealt with the pain of losing Akando and she wanted to make Fala answer for it.

“I'm sorry,” Fala offered, avoiding a confrontation.

“Sorry's not good enough.” A protective gleam flashed in Takala's eyes. “You better not hurt him again.”

“She didn't plan it the first time,” Nina added, nervously picking at her purse. Fuzz hopped across the living room and headed directly for Nina. She drew animals like a magnet.

“I know, but I don't want him hurt again.” Takala's lower lip stuck out and she brooded while she studied the green label on the bottle.

Nina stroked Fuzz and cradled him in her arms as she said, “The only thing that'll happen to him is he'll be in Fala's bed.”

What the heck? Was that Nina's idea of therapy?

Takala's eyes gleamed like a tiger ready to tear Nina to threads. “I heard you both in here whispering. I'm not in love with him.”

“Yeah, right,” Nina said, stroking the rabbit's belly. He had relaxed and looked like a limp dishcloth in her lap.

“I never wanted to hurt you.” Fala reached out to touch Takala.

“Stop talking about it.” Takala leaped up as if a bolt of lightning struck her. She cleared the table in one jump, without spilling a drop of ale. “Let's go, Buddha. This was a bad idea.”

Before Fala or Nina could stop her, Takala slammed the door behind her.

“Great.” Fala shook her head and stared at the door,
its top hinge hanging loose. She'd have to call the super. “Not too smart.”

Nina smiled. “Better have her face it now.”

“I guess.”

“You know she loves you, right?”

“I know.” Fala nodded, feeling a tightening in her throat. She wished with all her heart Takala was marrying Akando.

“Fuzz says he's lonely. Find him a girlfriend.” Nina laid the bunny in Fala's arms, then stood. “Better go, before we're missed.”

“Elisi doesn't know you're here?”

Nina shook her head. “She refused to let us leave for fear of Tumseneha. You really should come home with us.”

“I can't. Not now.”

Nina squeezed Fala's hand and her windowless eyes glistened with worry. “If you need us—”

“I'll let you know. And be careful going home. Those thugs could come back.” Fala had to bend down to peck her little sister's cheek.

“Maybe Takala can take out her frustration on them instead of us.” Nina forced a little grin.

“We can only hope.” Fala returned the smile, though she couldn't find any humor in the joke. She walked Nina to the door and said, “Bye.”

“Remember, be careful.”

“Back at you, sister.”

“Feel for me. I have to ride home with Takala.” Nina left, rolling her eyes at what lay ahead.

“I will.” Fala watched her walk down the hall, then
locked the door. If she wasn't done in before, she sure felt beat now. Sleep. She needed to lay down for a while.

Finally alone, she looked at Fuzz. “Why do you want to screw up your life with a mate?”

The rabbit twitched his whiskers in response.

Then Fuzz's face melted, altering into a dark handsome warlock with silver eyes. She shook her head to clear the vision. Exhaustion could do strange things to a person. Still, she carried Fuzz to bed with her.

 

Forty miles away Stephen poked at the dying embers in the fireplace and threw another log on the grate. Sparks flew as the flames licked at the wood and the fire shifted into a blaze.

He rubbed his hands near the heat and felt cold air wafting through the plaster walls of his bedroom. The old brick townhouse on Duke Street never failed to attract the cold winds off the Potomac. They seeped in everywhere. Brice and Leland had complained since the day they moved in that he should renovate. But he liked the old house the way it was: flawed, but with character.

The only imperfection with his home at the moment was its emptiness. Since Brice and Leland had been abducted, the house felt like a prison. Stephen listened to every sound, hoping to hear their laugher, their footsteps climbing the stairs. What he missed most were their dinners together and the banter in
Seinfeld
chitchat. They had seen the reruns so many times it was a game to see how long they could keep a conversation going by using only the show's dialogue. He felt the emptiness deep in his being. It had always been the three of them against
the world. And he might never see them again if Fala Rainwater wasn't gone from this earth.

Thoughts of her made him frown. He'd just seen all that transpired between the sisters. All three were so different, but their devotion to each other was so similar to his own brothers, disturbing in ways he'd rather not have thought about. She loved her sisters as he loved his brothers. He hated to think of the foreseeable future for the sisters without Fala.

It made him light-headed—no, that was lack of sleep. He hated that fragile human side of him. The warlock side was much more in control and held the secret to his power. Most magic was plain old quantum physics with genetics thrown in here and there. His strength, teleportation and telepathic abilities stemmed from the capacity to move photons and atoms around at will. Thanks to a long line of Winters that could trace their lineage back to Bronze Age Druids, his atoms had an anomaly that allowed him to shape matter on a molecular level. He'd learned all this technical mumbo jumbo when the government had run extensive tests on him. But no amount of matter-shifting had helped him find or save his brothers.

He jerked at his clothes and stripped down to his briefs, then crawled into the four-poster bed. The crystals embedded in the posts came alive and shot red rays over his head. The rays met in the center. He touched the center point and it opened a portal directly into Fala's bedroom, a trick that allowed him to sleep and monitor Fala. If she moved he'd hear it.

She was curled up in a fetal ball, her braid slung over one shoulder, her mouth parted slightly in sleep. Fuzz lay
curled up in the basket by her bed. She looked innocent and blameless and so damn beautiful he couldn't look at her.

He felt his body responding to the sight of her again. He hadn't been with a woman since his brothers had been kidnapped, over two weeks ago. An eternity.

Help us!

At the faint cry, Stephen shot up in bed.

He broke the path of the energy rays, and the portal died with a flat hum.

That was Brice's voice.
Oh, God!
Their blood connection was even stronger than the dark magic imprisoning his brothers, and sometimes he caught bits of their thoughts.

Agony clenched his ribs and he rocked back and forth, trying to meditate on where they were being held. But nothing came to him.

He flopped back down, his gut twisted in knots. The window into Fala's room opened, and he stared blankly up at her, wishing he could sleep that soundly.

 

The Maiden Bear charm vibrated against her chest.

Oh, no. Tumseneha's here.
Here to kill her. She couldn't move. The bed held her—no, magic held her, dark magic. Squashed her, pressed her down into the mattress.

Noooooo!