Ghosts of July (Shamans of the Divide, Book 1)

Chapter Fifteen

Damn.

Renn's face fell and I wondered if he regretted bringing me here. Coyote was making it awkward to say the least, and I hated awkward.

"My name is July," I said and I shoved my hand forward toward him. At best, he'd give me a begrudging shake. At worst, he'd kick me off his property and if he did, it was a relief that I'd driven my own car and wouldn't have to bum a ride back to Shades. Coyote's tanned skin was lined around the eyes and I held my breath while he studied me. Seconds dragged out and I was pretty convinced he was going to turn his back on me.

Finally, his giant hand swallowed up mine and he gave my arm a fierce tug. I heard Renn exhale beside me and as he followed his uncle and his cousin into the house, I shook out my throbbing hand. His handshake had been just shy of bone cracking.

I hesitated. Was I allowed to follow? Could this morning get any more confusing?

Renn turned around at the top step and gave me a bewildered look.

"Aren't you coming?" He looked at me like I was crazy for standing in the drive. Like the past minute and a half hadn't just happened.

With a shrug, I followed. I was convinced that today was going to be strangest day of my life.

I ducked into the house and had to take a second to adjust to the dim lighting and find Renn. He'd disappeared. The inside of Coyote's house was the exact opposite of the outside. Inside was clean and organized and open, with plenty of legroom and none of the cluttered tools or engines that sat on the porch. Maybe his wife had staked her claim on the inside and forced all of Coyote's stuff outside. Maybe I was going to like Coyote's wife more than I liked Coyote himself.

"Sit down."

I was admiring the view of the valley through huge open windows when Renn cleared his throat. Coyote had been talking to me.

"Oh. Sorry."

I grabbed a chair at the table they'd already been seated at. I tried to act normal, but I was sure my heart was beating so loud everyone seated would be able to hear it. It wasn't every day that somebody disliked me before meeting me. 

"What does she know?"

Coyote was a man who got straight to the point.

"Nothing," Renn said and looked at me. Was I supposed to confirm? Deny? I shrugged at him, suddenly feeling very unprepared. He could have warned me his uncle was going to put me through a ringer.

"But you think she should know something?" Coyote was talking Renn again.

"She's different," Renn said. "She sees things."

Coyote looked straight at me.

"What are you seeing?"

He was going to think I was crazy. Some crazy, slack-jawed teenager just trying to find excuses to hang out with his nephew.

"Spirits."

There it was. It was out. Coyote and I held eye contact in a strange staring contest that stretched longer than necessary. Beside me, I heard Renn blow out a long breath and across from him, Skye fidgeted in his chair. But Coyote and I kept at it. He was reading me, it seemed, and while I had no idea what I was looking for in his dark brown eyes, I refused to look away. He'd already tried to intimidate me earlier and I was just going to keep meeting him head on each time he tried.

Something about getting slapped across the face at a party full of people makes a girl reconsider being everyone's doormat. For that, at least, I was grateful for Hannah Lewis' wrong assumptions of me.