The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance 2 (14 page)

R.J. turned to race away but an arm, shooting around her neck, jerked her backwards. She slammed into a body and her adrenaline surged. Without thinking, she lifted her heel and brought it down full force on the foot next to hers. His grip loosened while his yelp joined the cries of his buddies. Pivoting, she sprayed him in the eyes with the mace and fled.
She had to get out of there. She didn’t know what was going on, but she didn’t want any part of it. Some reporter!

She was almost to the door when she heard the beating of wings behind her.

Shit, the damn owl was after
her
now.

Hearing a thump, she whirled, ready to give the owl a shot of mace.

Up close, it was huge. Staring at her with yellow eyes, it expanded its wings until they stretched wider than a man’s body. R.J. gasped and in the blink of an eye, the shape in front of her changed.

The owl disappeared and Sean O’Brien stood in its place.

Staggering back, she hit the wall and felt her face turn white. The can of mace slipped from her nerveless fingers and rolled down the hall. Her eyes, never leaving Sean, watched him bend and snag it.

He took one step.

Knees buckling, her last thought before hitting the floor . . .
what a story!

The not-so-soft tapping on the side of her cheek was the first thing she felt. She opened her eyes to find herself sprawled on the floor with Sean kneeling beside her. Sitting up, she scooted until her back hit the wall. “What hap—”

“You tripped and hit your head,” Sean said quickly, cutting her off. Standing, he offered her his hand.

She brushed it away and scrambled to her feet. A wave of nausea hit her. She clutched her stomach and took a deep breath. “No, I didn’t.” Straightening, she looked him square in the eye. “An owl was chasing me – only it wasn’t an owl – it was—”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He gave a quick glance over his shoulder. “You need to leave.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and held her ground. “No way. Not until I get some answers.”

“There are no answers,” he spat out and marched to the door. Flinging it open, he waited for her. “The Center’s been vandalized and the men escaped. You have to leave before Charlie and his goons show up.” Reaching out, he grabbed her arm and pulled her forwards.

Yanking away, she glared at him. “Why? We can explain what happened.”

“And what are you going to say?” he asked, his eyes drilling into hers. “How are you going to explain what you, a white woman, were doing at the Center in the middle of the night?” He pointed toward her Jeep. “Go.”

Giving up, she followed him down the path. Her mind felt muddled. Did she see the owl change into Sean? Like he said, it was ridiculous. Things like that just didn’t happen in the real world. Sean had been in the shadows. She’d been scared. Her eyes had played tricks on her. When he stepped out, it only appeared that the owl transformed.

But what had happened to the owl? She opened her mouth to ask, but before she could speak, Sean opened the Jeep’s door and hustled her into the driver’s seat. Slamming it shut, he turned back toward the Center.

“Wait,” she called out. “Aren’t you coming with me?” With a deep sigh, he shook his head. “No, I’ll be needed here.” He faced her. “It would be better for both of us if you left and forgot this place.”

Sean stood before the Council and tried not to look at Charlie Two Horses, sitting at the end of the table. He longed to shred the smug grin from Charlie’s face as he spun his lies to the Elders. With a will of their own, Sean’s fingers curled talon-like at his side, but he remained still. Next to him, his grandfather, rigid with indignation, glared at the tribal leaders.

“Akecheta stopped the vandals,” his grandfather insisted.

“Did he stop
them,
or did I stop
him?
” Charlie asked before any of the Elders could speak. “When I arrived, the place was a shambles and he was alone.”

As his grandfather focused the full weight of his stare on Charlie, Sean felt a small wave of pleasure when Charlie squirmed, but he kept his face blank.

“That makes no sense,” his grandfather said with a wave of his hand. “Akecheta worked hard to build this place. Why would he want to destroy it?”

“Insurance,” Charlie replied.

His grandfather shifted his attention from Charlie to George Eagle Feathers as if Charlie’s words had no importance. “Only a foolish man says foolish things.”

Rebuffed, Charlie’s face lost some of its smugness while he leaned forwards and addressed George. “I checked. There was no sign of a break-in and, other than the Council, Sean is the only one who has keys. If there were three men as he claims, how did they get in?”

Moving past Sean, his grandfather stood directly in front of Charlie and, placing his hands on the table, leaned in. “I know what you’re trying to do—”

A sudden commotion at the door interrupted him. All eyes turned toward the sound and watched R.J. blunder into the room.

Sean suppressed a groan.
Ah hell, what’s she doing here?
Steeling himself, he didn’t look her way when she came to stand beside him.

“I apologize,” she began, focusing on the Elders and ignoring Charlie, “I don’t mean to intrude in private matters, but when I heard Sean had been accused, I felt I needed to help.”

“Why?” Charlie barked. “You barely know him.”

Shifting her attention to Charlie, she gave him a stiff smile. “True, but I know for a fact he isn’t responsible.”

“How?” Charlie scoffed.

Turning back to the Elders, she showed her dimples. “I was here, too.”

From behind him, Sean heard his grandfather’s gasp.

Charlie shifted forward. “Really? Why?”

“I recently received some information,” she replied, giving Charlie a pointed look, “and I wanted to give Sean a chance to respond.” She turned her attention to George. “When we arrived, there were three men . . . at least I think it was three . . . it was dark.” She glanced at him as if she expected him to confirm her story. When he didn’t, she gave a shrug and glossed over what really happened. “They saw us and ran off.”

George’s eyes shifted from R.J. to Sean. “Is this true? Why didn’t you speak of her?”

Sean’s jaw clenched and unclenched. He appreciated R.J. coming to his defence, but in reality she’d only made the situation worse. He’d kept an eye on Charlie during R.J.’s explanation. Speculation had played across Charlie’s face the whole time. Not good. By aligning herself with him, she’d just made an enemy. He had to get this inquisition over quickly and get her out of town.

“I didn’t think it right to involve her in tribal business.” He finally allowed himself to look at her. “She has her story and will be leaving town today,” he said, with emphasis on ‘today’.

R.J. refused to meet his eyes.

George placed his hands on the table and stood. “Thank you for stepping forward. If you’ll excuse us?”

She took the hint. And after casting a triumphant look first at Charlie then at George, she left the room.

It didn’t take long for the Council to dismiss Charlie’s allegations. Relieved, Sean and his grandfather quietly walked to the door. Sean could feel the disapproval rolling off his grandfather in waves and he wasn’t looking forward to the explanations he’d have to make. He’d acted foolishly last night, letting the woman distract him. Only by luck had he won this battle. If he were to continue to win, he had to forget her and step up his guard.

His grandfather didn’t wait long to jump him. They stepped into the hallway and he pulled him to the side.

“What were you thinking,” his grandfather hissed. “Why did you bring the woman here? Did she see—”

Sean held up his hand, stopping him. “Yes, but I think I convinced her that she imagined it.”

His grandfather exploded. “You think? For god’s sake, she’s a reporter – a
white
reporter.”

“Grandfather, I mean no disrespect, but who would believe her if she wrote the truth? A story like that would destroy her reputation as a reporter. And trust me, she’d never risk her career.”

Slightly mollified, his grandfather continued down the hallway. “Maybe, but stay away from her,” he cautioned.

“Don’t worry, I w—”

The words died as he stepped outside and saw R.J. waiting by her Jeep.

Shit.

When she came running up to them, he had no choice but to introduce her to his grandfather. “R.J. Baxter,” he said, indicating her. “R.J., this is my grandfather, Jon Swifthawk.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she replied, rummaging around in her bag. A second later, she withdrew a pouch of tobacco and handed it to his grandfather. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Reluctantly, he accepted her gift, while Sean felt a glimmer of pride that she’d remembered their custom.

“Miss Baxter,” his grandfather said gruffly. “Thank you for defending my grandson.”

With a shy smile, she nodded. “I appreciate the time he’s given me.”

“Hmm,” his grandfather said with a steely look his way. “I must get home – Sean?”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he said, “I need to discuss something with R.J.”

She waited until his grandfather had reached his pickup then leaned in.

“He doesn’t approve of me,” she whispered.

“It’s not personal, it’s—” his voice faltered. “Look, I don’t have much time. I want you to leave today. You’ll no longer be welcome here.” He made a move to join his grandfather, but she shifted to the side, blocking him.

“Wait, I need to talk to you.”

He made a move around her. “No you don’t. You have your story.”

“Do I?” Her eyes narrowed. “You want me to write about what happened last night?”

“Go ahead,” he answered with a shrug. “We stopped a break-in. That’s it.”

She cocked her hip and gave him a long stare. “Yeah? Well call me crazy, but I think there was a little more to it than that.”

“Such as?”

“Such as . . . who were they? How did they get in? What was their motive?” she replied, ticking off her questions. Her voice dropped and she stepped closer. “And, last but not least – how in the hell does an owl change into a man?”

“That’s impossible. The blow to your head must’ve addled your brain,” he scoffed.

“Really?” She touched the back of her scalp. “If I hit my head, why don’t I have a bump? Now what about that owl?”

“There wasn’t an owl,” he insisted.

Her eyebrows lifted. “Tell that to the grandson of the guy who owns the motel.” She whistled through her teeth. “Man, you should see the gouges on the side of that kid’s face—”

“A white boy? I thought—” He stopped and, taking her arm, pulled her around the side of the building. “You recognized him from last night?”

“No, but I can recognize claw marks when I see them.”

He plucked on the white streak at his temple. Great, what did he do now? This woman was too clever for her own good – for his own good. He gave her arm a shake.

“Thanks to your butting in today, they now know you were with me,” he said through clenched teeth. “It’s not safe. You have to leave today. Go back to Michael’s Creek. Forget about the story. I’ll square it with your editor.”

Her face took on a mutinous look. “I don’t want to forget.”

“I told you,” he hissed, “people have disappeared on the prairie. You could be next.”

“I’m not afraid,” she blustered.

“You should be. There are ravines deep enough to hide a body until next spring. Do you want to wind up a pile of bleached bones?”

She gulped. “Not really.”

“Then leave.” He spun on his heel, but her hand on his arm stopped him.

“Listen. I’ll leave. Tomorrow. Meet me tonight,” she pleaded, “I can’t walk away without answers. I promise I’ll keep my mouth shut . . .” she hesitated. “I just need to know I’m not nuts.”

His mouth formed in a grim line. “You’re not, but I am. Meet me at eleven.”

Leaning her head against the driver’s window, R.J. waited for Sean. She glanced at the dashboard clock. He was late. Was he standing her up? He’d better not. If he tried, she’d hunt him down like a dog. She wasn’t leaving town without answers.

Regardless of what he’d said, R.J. still had a problem wrapping her mind around what she’d seen. Lying awake last night and staring at the ever-blinking lights, she’d gone over and over the scene in her mind. It had happened so fast. First there was the owl then there was Sean. Being a reporter, her life had brushed up against a lot of odd things and she’d become convinced a long time ago that life really was stranger than fiction. But this?

Only when the first rays of morning lightened the sky had she decided it hadn’t been her imagination. Old legends were true. Sean Swifthawk O’Brien was a shapeshifter. And she wanted him to confirm it.

But first she needed more information. Before she confronted him, she had to learn all she could about shapeshifting and Native American lore. She’d tried going online but she couldn’t find a connection from her crappy motel room. It was when she’d gone to the motel’s office to ask where the nearest Internet connection might be that she’d seen the kid. And overheard him and his grandfather discussing the accusations against Sean. The discussion ended the instant they’d seen her and the kid had hot-footed it out the back door, but not before she’d seen the marks on his face.