Time Untime (Dark-Hunter 21)

"For all time," he whispered in her ear an instant before he plunged a knife deep into her heart, then threw her to the ground to die. Her last sight was of him turning into a crow so that he could fly away from her.

Shaking and scared, Kateri woke up in a cold sweat to the sound of her alarm clock blaring. At 4:30 in the morning, her bedroom was still pitch dark, but even so she sensed a presence near her bed. More than that, she smelled the faint scent of peppermint and Jurgen's lotion.

Her grandmother's scent. There had only been one other time when she'd awakened to this sensation and smell-the night her grandmother had died while she'd been in college. Goosebumps ran over her body as tears filled her eyes.

"Eleesee?" she breathed, using the Cherokee word for grandmother.

Lightning flashed, highlighting the shadows in her room. Kateri gasped as the one in the corner appeared to be the solid form of a woman.

Only it wasn't her grandmother. Instead, it was twisted and horrific. Ugly.

Worse, the shadow lunged at her.

Reacting on pure instinct, Kateri threw her arm up and whispered the ancient words of protection her grandmother had drilled into her so that she could fight her nightmares whenever they came for her. As she'd been taught, she pushed against the invader with her thoughts, willing it from this existence into the realm that had spawned it. The creature screamed as it reached her bed and its face came within inches of hers. Its hollow eyes flickered like flames before it recoiled as if it had hit a force field. With a shrill caw, it exploded into a fiery creature that twisted and flew through the window in the shape of a crow.

No. Not a crow.

A raven.

Chills ran down her spine as her memories shot her into a place and time she didn't want to go. It's a raven mocker. Withered beings who only revealed themselves to those about to die.

To the souls they intended to devour.

Kateri shook her head harshly. No, she didn't believe in such things. No one or nothing could take a soul from a person. Those were stories her grandmother had told her to amuse or scare her with as a child. Ancient legends.

I'm a scientist. I know there's no such thing as shapeshifting beasts who steal the souls of the dying.

It was impossible.

But her grandmother had believed in them, as well as many of the Cherokee who'd lived on the reservation her grandmother had serviced. So much so that her grandmother had been summoned any time someone was dying. Day and night, until they passed, her grandmother had kept vigil to protect the dying from the raven mockers.

I have battled many of them in my day, child. And like me, you will one day have the ability to see them, too. To fight them for the souls they come to steal. It is your honor to follow after me. And when my time comes, I want you to hold my hand as I cross to the next adventure and protect my soul for me until it's free of this old body and safely through the gates of heaven. Then I shall live among the stars and stare down at you every night as I watch over you.

It was a dream that had never come true. Instead of dying peacefully in her sleep as she'd envisioned, her grandmother had been murdered by a home invader while Kateri was thousands of miles away.

Don't think about it. Any time she did, rage-dark and foul-set her on fire and it took everything she had not to go rabid vigilante. Her grandmother had been the kindest, gentlest creature ever born and some psycho had kicked her door in and ...

Stop! She had to get to work so that ...

Her thoughts scattered as her gaze went to her dresser. There on top, next to the small picture of her and her cousin Sunshine sitting on her grandmother's lap, were the corn dolls she'd been dreaming about. Dolls she hadn't seen in years. Not since the summer when she'd turned sixteen and her grandmother had led her through the ritual to symbolize her walk from childhood into that of an adult.

Those dolls had been burned to ashes on that day and then their remains scattered in the garden to feed the new crop of corn-the symbol of life and the cycle of birth, renewal, death, and rebirth....

But their presence on her dresser wasn't what truly scared her.

While she'd slept, someone had come into her room and written on her mirror with a bar of soap-something else her grandmother had done whenever Kateri had stayed with her. Little notes such as "I love you," "Good luck with your test," "Have a good day at school," "Don't forget your sweater," or some such trifling.

But this note wasn't sweet.

Take my nayu into the Valley of Fire, where the pure earth must tame the crow. Listen to the buffalo and protect the butterfly. Together, you are stronger than any foe. And remember, Waleli, when the coyote comes and the snake attacks, either you eat the bear or the bear eats you.

In the middle of the day, that would be irritating to read. This early in the morning, it was downright cruel.

I'm in no mood for this crap.

"Who's here?" she shouted.

Only the sound of her own heartbeat answered her. She'd call the police, but to what purpose? Hey, officer, I woke up and found this really cryptic message on my mirror, written by someone who was high or drunk or ... No, officer, I'm not on anything. And no, they're not here now and I have no idea why they'd do something like this, but could you find out who they are and ask them not to leave me notes anymore? Who do I suspect? No idea. Only my late grandmother left me notes like this.

Yeah, that wouldn't go over well, and with her luck, they'd haul her in for filing a false report.

Or worse, call a psych unit on her.

But what really disturbed her about the note was that it called her Waleli ... Hummingbird. It was her real first name that her grandmother had given to her on her birth. One that hadn't been entered on the paperwork her mother had filed for her birth certificate. No one alive knew of it.

No one.

So either her grandmother had visited her or ...

You don't believe in ghosts.

True, but what other explanation could there possibly be? Why would a complete stranger break into her house, steal nothing, do her no harm, and write that? The reasoning defied logic.

How would they know about her grandmother's nayu that had shown up in mail addressed to her the day after her grandmother had died, or the name her grandmother only used when they were alone?

Kateri shook her head.

Maybe that was what the raven mocker had been doing.

Yeah, okay, the idea of a raven mocker writing in soap on her mirror sounded even more ludicrous and far-fetched than the ghost theory, but what was left?

Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth. She rolled her eyes as her mind reminded her of the Sir Arthur Conan Doyle quote.

"I don't believe in this crap, Grammy!" she shouted up at the ceiling. She never had. Paranormal, raven mockers, tsinooks, spirits, and such ... hokey poppycock.

She was a scientist. She only believed in what she could see, taste, touch, smell, and hear.

Quantify.

The rest was fodder for novelists and Hollywood. It just didn't exist outside of dreams.

It didn't.

All of a sudden, something squeaked. Kateri snapped her head toward the sound that had come from her dresser.

There on her mirror, more words appeared as she watched them.

But I believe in you, Waleli. Do not fail me.

Above all, do not fail yourself.