Stone rubbed his face after he placed his last call. Glancing at the time on the laptop in his office, he heaved a heavy sigh before leaning back in his leather chair.
There was still so much to do. He'd called Hector for back-up, Colten for aid with his pack of werewolves, and his connection with city authorities in Minneapolis and Saint Paul. He sent Alistair into the city for patrol until two o'clock in the afternoon, then Gavin would take over so Alistair could return for some much-needed rest.
Stone needed rest as well. Gunner was patrolling their territory until two o'clock, and then Stone would have to cover him and it was nearly eleven in the morning already.
Pulling himself up, he closed the laptop before ambling to his room and collapsing on his bed. Aubree's scent from yesterday was still present and he couldn't help the smile that crept to his lips as he inhaled.
She slept well in his bed and he knew it was because of his scent. It soothed her as much as her scent soothed him. He crawled under the covers and closed his eyes, thinking about how peaceful she looked that morning compared to this one.
She looked like she'd been hit by a train. Her bruises had turned their darkest with hints of yellow mingled within the purple splotches. Her hair was matted around her head from tossing and turning, and in addition to the smell of her salty tears, he could smell the sweat that comes from having nightmares.
As much as he wanted to protect her from the dangers out there, keeping her ignorant of them wouldn't help her at all. If he wanted her to trust him, he had to be open and honest with her about everything—even if it meant scaring her.
True to his word, he only returned to her apartment to make her feel better. He could sense her distress over something shortly after the rain started. He had scoured most of the downtown area of Minneapolis and was working through Saint Paul when the rain finally started. When the sky began to get lighter, he turned to head back to her apartment.
The vampires weren't out because of the rain, as the slayers had said. But if it stayed cloudy and gray all day, they might come out from hiding in order to feed. Sunlight was their enemy, but if there was no direct sunlight, there was nothing to hold them back from venturing out.
Stop thinking about it, he ordered himself.
He couldn't help worrying about what Carina would do. She was after Aubree, and no matter how much he tried to stop thinking about the bloodsuckers, they invaded his mind whenever he remembered the bruises that coated her body.
He returned his attention to breathing in her scent on his pillow, and let his mind wander instead to thoughts of her sleeping curled up in his arms.
It seemed like only minutes later that his alarm went off. Three hours of sleep wasn't enough.
He pulled himself up with a groan and mind-linked with Gunner for an update.
[Fine, but we have a visitor. He should be there by now. I didn't want to disturb your sleep, so I let him pass.]
Stone's brows furrowed and he strained his senses to try and pick up any sign of their visitor. Gunner wouldn't allow anyone to pass unless he knew the creature wasn't a threat. [Who is it?]
[Coyote.]
Stone's eyebrows furrowed even deeper. [Coyote? What does the skinwalker want?]
[Ask him,] was Gunner's cryptic response.
Skinwalkers were unreliable magical beings. Typically Navajo Indians, they could change their human form into one similar to an animal when they wore the pelt of that animal. The transformation wasn't one hundred percent and resembled men hunched forward on their hands and feet, the fur pelt merging into their skin on their backs, while their stomach retained their human appearance. They acquired heightened senses when they took on their animal form, but otherwise were like normal human beings when they walked about on their two feet. They were loners, preferring a life of solitude, Navajo spirituality, and meditation.
Stone rubbed the sleep from his face. It had to be something important to bring the skinwalker all the way up there from Arizona.
He had encountered roughly fifty in his eight-hundred years of living and he knew of only three currently in existence—Coyote in the desert, Bear in the mountains bordering British Columbia and Alberta in Canada, and Wolf in the Smoky Mountains. They took the names of their animals and tended to keep to themselves.
Coyote was the middle-aged prankster of the three and was hard to take seriously at times. However, as he was getting older, so too was his behavior. He had to be well into his fifties by now.
The front door opened and Stone tensed instinctively. He shook it off before getting out of bed, rolling his shoulders, and snapping the kink in his neck.
[I think he's arrived,] he informed Gunner.
He was wearing a pair of boxers that he pulled on when he got home. His clothes from last night were soaked right through from the rain and he had tossed them in the tub in his bathroom.
He yanked on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt before heading downstairs to meet his guest.
Pausing halfway down between the second floor and the main level, his eyes met Coyote's amber pair that crinkled in the corners when he smiled up at Stone before he lowered his gaze.
Coyote's long black hair was streaked with more gray than the last time he saw him. His round face was beginning to sag, the high cheekbones jutting out more prominently, the crow's feet deeper, and the bags under his deep-set eyes heavier. He looked closer to sixty, but Stone didn't think he was that old yet. A coyote's pelt hung over his shoulders, the upper portion of the beast's head lolled back like the hood of a jacket.
He forced himself down the last six steps, pressing his lips into a tight line to keep from frowning and resisting the urge to wrinkle his nose at the smell that clung to the man—a mixture of musty old furs and skins, yet there was something fresh and electrifying about them at the same time.
It made him shiver regardless.
He had no reason to be suspicious but experience had taught him to trust his instincts. With everything going on right now and Aubree getting caught in the middle of it, his instincts told him to question every little change in scent, heartbeat, and muscle twitch.
Anxiety mingled in Coyote's scent as he stood there, his gaze lowered out of respect. His rigid stance hinted that he was there on business.
Stone held his palms up in greeting, his eyes studying the canyon of creases on Coyote's forehead instead of looking him in the eye. "Welcome. Forgive me if I am curt for I am busy and have much on my mind."
Coyote's eyes flicked up for a split second before dashing away as he inclined his head. The corners of his lips twitched, resisting the urge to smirk. Typical for him.
"You haven't changed a bit," Coyote said.
Stone grunted, thinking that Coyote looked worse for wear, but knew better than to say something to the man that was a foot shorter than him.
"My pack is small and we have a lot of ground to cover every day."
Coyote nodded but said nothing.
A sigh of impatience escaped Stone's lips as he lowered his hands to his sides. "What business brings you so far from home?"
"I think you know why I am here," Coyote said.
Stone swallowed, taking a half step back and planting his feet in a firmer stance with his arms crossed over his chest. He never did trust the skinwalkers.
"Speak."
"It's curious," Coyote said, lifting his head, his gaze sweeping cautiously over Stone's face, while still avoiding eye contact. "The Spirit Walker has requested your presence at his residence. With the girl."
----
Dedicated to tweety496
*Copyright Jo Lee Hunt (Joflower) 2016*
YOU ARE READING
Heart of Stone (Parts I & II)
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