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"We need to"--I glanced at the dead guy--"move him."
My second body in as many days. I should be horrified. At least with Mina Lee, I'd felt a hint of grief. Even then, though, my response had felt wrong. Cold.
Now it was even worse. I felt nothing. This guy had come for Rafe, and he'd been willing to kill me to get him. He'd died by accident. If he'd had his way, he'd have done a lot worse to us. Still, to feel nothing didn't seem right. Too sensible, even for me.
"I know a place," I said after thinking for a moment. I carefully slid from under Annie, lowering her to the ground and adjusting the jacket over her. I stood and looked down at the body. "Is anyone going to come looking for him?"
Rafe shook his head. "The Jacksons must have put out a bounty on me. He wanted to collect it himself, which means he wouldn't risk telling anyone else where he was going." He stepped toward me, fingers closing around my arm. "I'm sorry, Maya. I never would have gotten you involved--"
I pulled from his grasp. "Don't lie to me. Not now. That's why you're here. To get me involved. Not in this"--I motioned to the dead guy--"but this." I tugged my shirt away from my jeans, showing off the top of my matching mark, and as I did, I watched his expression, praying for a look of surprise and knowing I wouldn't get one. I didn't.
That's what you wanted, isn't it? You said you were looking for something special in a girl, and that's what it was.
I didn't say the words. Even thinking them made my gut clench, made me want to run as far from him as I could get, but I couldn't do that. I needed answers.
"I can explain," he said.
"I expect you to," I said. "But first, we have to get rid of him."
We carried the body to a narrow cave farther down the ridge, where erosion had eaten away at the cliff side. We took his ID. He didn't have keys, so he must have hitched a ride. We put him in the cave, then stuffed the opening with rocks and branches, to keep scavengers away.
By the time we got back to Annie, she was awake again and ready to walk to the cabin. She was still exhausted, though, barely saying a word, leaning against her brother. When we got there, it was exactly as I remembered it--the kind of place so rundown that hikers would use it for shelter in bad weather, presuming no one lived there.
The cabin was barely larger than my bedroom and had an outhouse. A new generator supplied electricity and a propane stove provided heat for cooking. As rustic as you could get. Clean, though, I saw as I followed Rafe inside. Probably a lot cleaner than it had been when Ed Skylark lived here.
There were two beds, little more than bunks. One was original. The other was made of new wood, as was the table and two chairs. Add a tiny fridge, and that was it for furnishings. The bed linens and plates and other stuff all looked new but were discount store quality. Clearly Rafe was making the drug dealers' money last as long as he could.
Rafe helped Annie to the new bed, which was piled with colorful pillows and blankets. She snuggled in, saying something about being hungry, but she drifted off to sleep again before she could finish. Rafe got a health bar from a crate of groceries and a juice box from the fridge, and left them beside her bed. Then he motioned me outside.
He didn't say another word until we were standing beside the fire pit, and even then he only said, "So ..." before lapsing into silence. I lowered myself onto the log they'd been using for a fireside chair. He sat and tried sliding closer, but when I tensed, he stopped and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring into the forest.
"You said your mother was Hopi," I said, pointing to the tattoo on his forearm.
He rubbed it and nodded.
"They have the skin-walker stories, too, don't they?"
He looked over sharply, blinking.
"Yes, I know the legend," I said. "But I'm guessing it's more than a legend."
"It is." His hand came down right beside my leg, not touching. He looked down at his hand, like he was hoping I'd slide closer, give him some sign everything was okay. When I didn't, he said, "This isn't how I imagined it. Telling you."
"Did you imagine telling me at all?"
His gaze shot to mine. "Yes. That's why I asked you to come out here tonight. I knew I couldn't wait. Shouldn't wait. Things were happening, and you needed to know the truth, if you didn't already."
"Okay, so you were going to tell me tonight. Well, it's tonight. Go on."
He squirmed and I knew the timing didn't matter--he'd expected this to play out differently, probably on a cliff top after a climb, sitting together, his arm around me, as he casually said, "Hey, you know how those mountain lions have been hanging around you a lot lately? Well, there's a reason ..."
"Skin-walkers," I prompted.
"Right."
Silence.
"I've only read one reference to them turning into cougars," I said. "It's usually wolves, coyotes, even bears."
