WINDWALKER (THE PROPHECY SERIES) (7 page)

****

Prince had a remarkable hard-on. It was a side-effect of the adrenaline surge he felt during these ceremonies and always wondered why he never thought of bringing a female with him until it was too late. Maybe his lapse was subconscious; knowing the personal power he gained would be sapped by giving it away through sex.

ReeRee was in fine form tonight, already communing with the spirit side. He wanted the spirits to tell him where Layla Birdsong was hiding. If he had her, he would have access to the entity that had spirited her away, and that would give him untold power.

He already knew she taught school on a Navajo reservation in Arizona, and that she’d checked out of the hospital in New Orleans and left with family. He also knew the United States government was looking for her, which meant he had to be careful. He got away with what he did because he made it a point to never be a physical presence at the scenes of his acquisitions or piss off foreign governments.

All of a sudden ReeRee shrieked.

Every muscle in his body tensed as she picked up a chicken and wrung its neck. When she swung the carcass toward him, lacing his clothes with fresh, warm blood, he froze.

She tossed the carcass aside. It was flopping in death throes as she flung its head into the smoke and began to move around the fire in a wild, frantic rhythm - stomping her feet in the blood and the dirt – chanting incantations in her native patois.

He closed his eyes and opened his mind; ready for whatever she conjured to come in.

****

Niyol liked the feel of heat and wind upon his face. With the woman’s breasts against his back and the tight grip she had around his waist - only inches from his manhood - it was a struggle to stay focused. It had been a long time since he’d walked in the human world, and he was hungering for all that it offered, including this woman. He’d already given her a taste of what their union would be like, but he was anxious to experience it as well. Much was riding on how well he prepared her for what was coming, and wasting time with bodily pleasures would have to be carefully paced.

She didn’t know, but he could hear her thoughts. He also felt the power of her energy. She had a warrior’s heart. It would be important that she stay strong when it mattered most.

A rabbit darted out of some scrub brush as they flew past, a narrow miss in becoming road-kill.

Niyol threw back his head and laughed. He’d felt the rabbit’s heart skitter to a stop and then thump forcefully as it leaped. Odd little creature, but he remembered they had a good taste.

The roar of the engine was loud in Layla’s ears, and yet she still heard the sound of his laughter and smiled without knowing why it happened.

You will love me.

Layla’s smile froze. Dear God. Was that a promise or a warning?

It will not matter. It will be what it will be.

Again, the simplicity of his answer was what calmed her. He was right. Like water, love found its own level.

****

They rode without stopping until almost noon. Layla was faint from pain and hunger when he suddenly aimed for a line of small trees down in the canyon and rolled the bike to a stop. After the roar of the wind and engine, the silence was startling.

She slid off the back of the seat and then staggered to the shade and dropped. He was beside her within seconds, water in one hand and food in another.

Layla was unable to read his expression and gratefully took what he offered. The water wasn’t cold, but it didn’t matter. It was enough to wash down a pain pill. The bread was fresh, the jerky smoked and salty. It reminded her of the deer jerky she and her mother used to make for family snacks when she was growing up.

He sat down beside her and ate like he was starving. All of a sudden he looked up at her and smiled. She forgot to breathe.

“Starving. Isn’t that what you say when it’s been a long time since you last ate?”

She nodded.

He laughed, his teeth white against his sun-toned skin.

“Then yes, I am starving. It has been at least five hundred of your years since food has passed my lips.”

Layla thought he was kidding until she realized not only had he commented on what she’d been thinking, but that meant he must have, once again, read her freaking mind. That was something she needed to remember.

“So how does this work?” she asked, as she tore off another bite of bread with her fingers and put it in her mouth.

“This? You mean us? Why I am here with you like this?”

She was about to nod an assent when all of a sudden her food went flying and she was flat on her back in the sand. His hands were around her neck and she could feel the heat from his breath.

“When you are good enough, fast enough, deadly enough, to not only see an attack like this coming, but defend yourself against it and kill your enemy, it will mean that you are ready for what comes next. It is then that I will leave you.”

Layla’s heart was hammering so hard against her ribcage that it was hard to breathe. She slammed her hands against his shoulders and pushed him back and then off, picked up her food and began angrily brushing off the dirt.

He laughed, which only made her madder.

“You don’t fight fair,” she muttered.

His laughter ended. “And neither will your enemy. If you don’t learn this well enough and soon enough, you and your people will die.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d referred to a cataclysmic event, but it was the last time she wanted to hear about it without an explanation.

“You’ve said that before,” she snapped. “Explain yourself or stop talking about it.”

His eyes narrowed. There was strength in her words, as well as her actions.

“In a very short time what you call a meteor will fall from the sky and it will hit earth and destroy it forever.”

The bread in Layla’s hand fell from her fingers into her lap as she stared at his mouth, watching the way his lips formed the words that were ending her world. Later, she would remember thinking how could such a dire and horrifying warning come from a beautiful mouth?

“Before it happens, water will foul. The electrical power that runs your country will end. Food will become a most valuable commodity, and man will turn against his brother for water. For a while, the predators will rise to the top of the food chain while man, who once held that place, will become helpless to protect themselves.”

Layla didn’t know she was crying until he reached out and wiped a tear from her face.

“Death is always a sadness,” he said softly. “Even the death of a dream.”

Then he leaned forward, cupped the back of her head with his hand and pulled her to him.

She knew he was going to kiss her and she welcomed it, but was not prepared for the impact of his mouth upon hers. The moment they touched, she not only felt the pressure of his lips, but smelled the sweat on his skin and the sexual urge thundering through him.

She moaned.

Moments later he was out of his clothes and she was beneath him. As he pulled down her pants and yanked off her shirt, she was trembling, desperate for the moment of impact.

Chapter Five

He took her in hunger, more than ready for the powerful rush of blood he knew would surge through his body. Her legs were parted, her body trembling in anticipation. He fell between them and slid into her hot wet depths without restraint, then buried himself as deep as he could go. But when he began to withdraw for a second pass, she locked her legs around his waist and pulled him back.

Layla was already half out of her mind then she heard him laugh. The joy he found in human existence was an aphrodisiac she had not expected. He’d eaten his food with blatant pleasure, and at the moment, he was so high on making love she couldn’t have stopped him if she’d tried.

Once he’d brought her to a climax with nothing more than a sweep of the energy that had brought him into her world, and now he was taking her to another level of lovemaking from which she might not recover.

He was big and he was hard.

She was hot and she was wet, and together they were about to ignite.

Niyol rode her without restraint, too hungry for the climax to prolong it. She was reaction to his action, building passion, building energy mass until he became so full he overflowed. She felt him shatter, but was not prepared for the impact to her when it happened.

Not only did he send her into orgasm, but while he was coming, she felt his as well. She screamed until she had no voice as he spilled his seed. The climax blew apart their capacity for thought. There was nothing they could do but hold on and wait for the pieces of their minds to settle and make them whole again.

****

The sun had moved just enough to burn through a gap in the leaves above them and down onto Niyol’s back. He groaned, reluctant to move from the comfort of her body.

Layla felt him shift and held him tighter, unwilling to turn him loose. He’d said that she would love him, and he’d been right. He was a virtual stranger, and yet there was a bond between them stronger than a lifetime of living could have forged. He’d already warned her he would leave, which made her desperate to cram that lifetime together into whatever days they had left.

When he raised up, his hair fell down around his shoulders, forming a barrier between her and the heat of the sun. His gaze raked her face and neck as he eyed the silver chain with the tiny bird and then lower, looking with pleasure at the slim build of her copper-colored body, burnished by the sheen of mingled sweat. When his penis began to stir and then engorge, he inhaled sharply.

“It is good to be human,” he said softly, and once more began to move, only this time in a slower, more dedicated rhythm.

Layla closed her eyes and arched her back to meet the thrusts, concentrating wholly on the feel of his body within her depths. When the climax came again, she was in his head. He was right. It was good to be human.

****

Sunset was a few hours away and they were now all the way down into the gorge of Canyon de Chelly. The floor of the canyon was surprisingly fertile and green compared to the land above it. The occasional rock spire rising up from the canyon floor was as a lone King on a chess board. But the canyon floor was not deserted.

It was also home to many of the Dineh who lived and worked the land – herding sheep, growing crops, living a rural life far away from the group housing that constituted reservation living.

Niyol and his woman did not ride through unnoticed, but their presence was not questioned, not even when they scattered grazing sheep.

The motorcycle engine was a steady roar in her ears. Although she was now wearing the bike helmet and Niyol’s hair was bound into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, her skin was sere; her eyes dry and wind-burned.

The first time they passed a site of pueblo ruins, the drums were suddenly loud in her ears and she wondered what that meant. Niyol heard the thought.

The Old Ones acknowledge your presence.

Layla gasped.
You mean they know who I am?

Both sides of the veil know your name.

The burden of what she’d been given was finally sinking in. It was both a frightening and sobering thought to know so many lives rested on her ability to survive what was coming.

Remember, I am with you.

And just like that, the burden lifted. He was right. She wasn’t in this alone. A Windwalker makes anything possible.

It was nearing dusk when they finally stopped. Niyol brought the motorcycle to a stop in a canyon deep between two massive walls of rock towering above them on both sides.

The canyon valley was both narrow and flat, peppered with sparse scrub brush and a thin line of small trees running through the middle where a thinner ribbon of water flowed.

The canyon looked like Mother Nature had taken a cake knife to the land and carved out a huge slice for herself. Except for a couple of shallow caves along the canyon floor, the walls on either side appeared impenetrable.

“We stop here,” Niyol said, pointing to a small pool beside the nearest cave. He pushed the motorcycle inside and began unloading it.

Layla dropped to her knees beside water and drank until she had quenched her thirst. After she splashed her face and neck to wash off the dust, she stood, relishing the quick breeze. As soon as she carried her backpack inside the cave, she went back to help.

They worked together until the bike was unloaded, and then she went to gather dry wood for a campfire while Niyol began setting up camp.

He stopped once to watch her, satisfied she took the initiative without complaining or being told what to do. He knew how Jackson Birdsong had raised her. Long before she’d proven herself worthy, he’d known everything there was to know about her, but he’d forgotten how much he would love her again. When she started back to the campsite, he turned away, a little confused as to whether it was appropriate to let so much of his feelings show. Being human was, at times, also confusing.

“This should be enough to get the fire started,” Layla said, as she dumped the armload at his feet. “There’s more dry wood down by the trees along the wash.”

He glanced up at the sky. “It will be dark in a few minutes.”

She shrugged. “We’ll need the fuel. It will be cold when the sun goes down. Light the fire and I will have a beacon to follow back.”

As she strode off in the direction of the trees, he gathered up some dry grasses then began building the fire near the front of the shallow cave.

He started with a four-foot circle of loose rocks gathered from inside the cave, then twisted the dry grasses into knots before laying them on the bottom. He covered the grass with small sticks, then larger ones, until he had a decent-sized stack ready to light.

He paused, looking out in the twilight. She was on her way back. He put a match to the woodpile, watching intently as the flames began to eat through the grass, then the smaller sticks, to the larger ones on top until they had fire. Night had officially arrived as he walked out of the cave. He couldn’t see her, but he knew she was near because he could feel her heartbeat.