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

Chapter Seventeen

I followed Renn back down the narrow path thinking about everything I'd just heard. He'd talked a lot about spirits and the spirit world. Things like animals and evil creatures and shamans. But not much was said about ghosts—the type of spirits that I seemed to know so well. Or who know me, rather.

The front door to Coyote's house was wide open and Skye was sitting on the porch steps tapping away at a phone. He glanced up when he heard us coming.

"Might want to give them a few minutes," he said, hitching his thumb in the direction of the open door. "She's not happy that the business has been brought here."

He gave me a pointed look and Renn rolled his eyes. I guess I was the business.

"I think I should probably leave," I said. Coyote had offered enough unfriendly vibes for one day; I'd hate to meet an unhappy wife.

Renn's grip tightened and he pulled me back from the step I'd started to take.

"No," he said. "We'll get through this, July. And then we'll figure out what's stalking Shades and we'll deal with that, too. But I can't protect you if you're in a car speeding away from me. This is going to be fine. Aunt Lacey is going to love you once she's done being mad at Coyote."

"And you," Skye said with a smirk. He was a funny kid, actually. I could see the resemblance between Renn and his younger cousin. Both had deep brown eyes set with a shrewd intensity, like they were sizing me up even in the midst of a joke. The same dark hair carelessly pushed out of their faces and the same nose. I didn't remember Coyote's features much. I wonder if he's the common relative or if it was Lacey.

Inside, I heard voices rising in anger and the entire situation bordered on really uncomfortable. As if sensing my doubts, Renn gave my hand a gentle tug and pulled me to stand in front of him. Without releasing my hand, he placed his free hand on my shoulder and I felt the warmth of his chest against my back. I froze at the intimate-feeling contact, confused by how quickly he'd changed from last night to today. It's almost as if he were making his family think we were more than we actually were. He gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze and my cheeks burned. Skye was watching us. Me, actually. His eyes were narrowed on me and I couldn't help but think he was assessing my uncomfortable reaction to Renn's behavior.

The tempest inside the house died down and moments later Coyote trailed behind the woman I assumed was his wife Lacey. She was tall and thin, much like her son, with long black hair pulled into a low braid on her back. She was pretty in an uncomplicated way—she wore no makeup that I could see and had on jeans and a Lionel Richie concert t-shirt. Lacey moved quickly and was standing directly in front of me before I had a chance to brace myself.

But instead of the reception Coyote had given me, Lacey stuck her hand out and gave me a warm smile.

"Hello, July," she said, shaking my hand in hers. "I'm really glad to meet you. I apologize for my bull-headed husband. Some dogs are too old to learn new tricks—or manners for that matter."

I figured Coyote would argue with his wife but he sort of shrugged and shuffled his feet in the dirt.

Lacey looked over my shoulder at Renn.

"Is she all caught up?"

"She is," Renn said, not breaking his hold on me.

"Great," Lacey said, blowing out a long breath. She looked back at her husband with what looked like a warning glare. "Well, back inside you all go and figure out what's going on."

Lacey had her car keys in her back pocket and fished them out.

"I'm headed over to my mother's," she said as she headed back to her pickup truck. "She's got a brisket she got on sale at the Safeway and she doesn't want it to go bad."