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“The past isn’t over,” she whispered quickly. “There are threads that she’s sought. The danger isn’t to her, it’s to the fragile remnants of trust that allowed that bond she had with you to remain. But these secrets could destroy it. Beware of flight. If she takes wing, then you may well lose her forever.” With that she stepped back to the bed and, unwrapping the sheet, lay back and stared up at him with such regret that guilt seared him to his soul. “I just wanted to see the night again. I’ve missed it so . . .”
Her eyes closed and as quickly as the spirit had shown herself, she was gone once more. The scent of his Cat filled the room, the mating bond, the mark he’d left on her, once again filling the room.
Graeme couldn’t take his gaze off her.
There had been no warning that Claire would make an appearance. No warning t
hat the spirit that had slept within Cat would awaken.
The eeriness of the presence threatened the sanity he’d found with his Cat, and the knowledge that Claire still existed within her was unsettling.
The ritual performed by the Six Chiefs of the Navajo over a decade before, to hide Cat from the Council forces determined to recapture her, had been designed to place Cat’s spirit in a sleeping state while the spirit of Claire faced the world in Cat’s body.
It had changed even Cat’s genetic makeup during the time Claire had been “awake.” Graeme knew Claire had slept more often than she’d been awake, though, and Cat had faced the petty cruelties and hatred she found in the Martinez household.
Once the need for that protection was over, Claire should have found that path to her eternal sleep or to whatever came after death.
There were times Graeme wasn’t certain what to believe about the afterlife part, but he knew now that Claire hadn’t found it.
Fuck.
This wasn’t tolerable. He wouldn’t allow it to continue. Cat had lost enough of her life. She deserved to face life without the danger of another awakening inside her and taking her place.
He deserved more than to have her taken from him so easily in such a way. When he’d faced Claire, nothing but the most subtle scent of Cat remained. So subtle that identifying her would have been impossible if he weren’t her mate, though even the mating no longer existed when this woman faced the world.
A silent snarl curled at his lips.
She was his. He’d died for her more than once. He’d lived for her. He’d lost his sanity for her. He’d be damned if he’d allow anyone to take her from him now.
Not the Genetics Council, not Jonas Wyatt, and not that poor, sad little creature that had wanted to see the night so desperately.
Claire deserved her rest if she deserved nothing else in this world.
But even more, he and Cat deserved to face life without the knowledge that when Cat slept, the other spirit could awaken so easily without Cat’s knowledge.
It was time to break the fragile truce he had with a certain chief and bring this to an end.
• CHAPTER 16 •
The next night, Graeme moved carefully to the location where he knew the chief would be awaiting him. Even at a young age Graeme had inspired fear. He hadn’t always understood it, though he often appreciated the ability. One man who had never looked at him with fear or even trepidation was Orrin Martinez, the highest of the Six Chiefs of the Navajo, the spirit men of the tribes of the Nation.
And he’d never managed to surprise Orrin either. Even at that first visit so many years ago, he’d found the Navajo chief waiting for him in the same place he was waiting for him now.
In a year of intense rains, runoffs and flash floods had carved out the land in many places and revealed surprising gorges as well as caverns once hidden behind thin stone walls and packed desert sands.
It was one of these caverns that he stepped into, aware that Orrin didn’t wait alone. With him were four of the Unknown, Navajo warriors selected to protect the secrets the chiefs oversaw.
One of those warriors, Lincoln Martinez, stood silently, his features, marked by warrior’s paint, nearly obscured by the design they used.
“I’d love to know how you figure out when we need to talk.” Graeme shook his head as he took a seat at the small fire Orrin had prepared.
Orrin watched him closely, the solemn wisdom reflected in his gaze just as deep and just as knowing as it had been so long ago.
“The winds whisper to those willing to listen,” Orrin stated quietly. “Many just prefer not to hear.”
It was his standard answer when Graeme asked how he knew whatever he knew at the time.
The winds whispered the secrets to him.
