Thunder Moon (Nightcreature 8)

He didn’t answer, just kept his gaze on mine, waiting.

“What does it mean?”

He turned away, stared out the window again as if he couldn’t bear not to see the mountains for a moment longer. “Only warriors can wear the eagle.”

“The feather?”

“Yes. But feathers can be lost, stolen, ruined. I got the tattoo so I would have a reminder to be a warrior always. Warriors do what must be done no matter the cost to themselves or anyone else.”

Something in his voice, a starkness, a desperation, made me move so I could see his face. What I’d heard I saw reflected there, and it made me shiver. Despite his calm demeanor, his vow to harm none, I recognized a ruthlessness in this man; I sensed secrets and danger, and I was enthralled.

“Come back to bed.”

He followed me downstairs, where he trailed that eagle feather all over me. I shuddered and writhed; I begged and then I came, clutching his shoulders, holding him close. Sated, we slept, only to be awoken by the doorbell.

Shoving my tangled hair from my face, I stared at the clock. Nine. I was late. So why hadn’t Jordan or Cal called?

Ian turned over; I became distracted by the way the sheet twined across his waist, the outline of his legs, how his skin shone in the small ray of sunlight that strayed past a slight gap at the side of the heavy green drapes.

“I’ll have to go right to the office,” he said.

“Sorry.”

In his eyes I saw a reflection of our memories. “Don’t be.”

I threw on my robe. “Use the shower, whatever you want.”

As I ran down the steps, the doorbell chimed again. I threw open the door and discovered why my deputy and dispatcher hadn’t called. They were here.

Cal stood on the porch; Jordan leaned against a brand-new squad car. A second was parked behind it. The mist that so often swirled in from the mountains shrouded my yard. Beyond the cars lay the trees; I just couldn’t see them.

“You sick?” Cal strode past me without being invited.

“Not yet. What’s the matter? The Chuck Norris joke of the day too good to wait?”

“Huh?” Cal appeared preoccupied. “Oh, yeah, there was a joke, but it wasn’t good.” He reached into his pocket and handed me a crumpled sheet of paper.

There is no theory of evolution. Just a list of animals Chuck Norris allows to live.

I thought it was pretty good. But— “You came to show me this?”

“Of course not. Claire dropped off the keys for your new squad car. We figured we’d bring it out so you could drive it in.”

“Thanks.”

Cal moved to the door. I followed, thinking he meant to leave. Instead, he shut the door and turned with a serious expression, even for him. “There’s something I wanted to tell you, but not at the office.”

He was acting strangely. Showing up at my house. Not noticing there was an extra car in my yard and asking about it. Bringing me the squad without calling first. Not commenting that I’d left the shower running upstairs.

Cal seemed ... well, my great-grandmother would have called him “out of sorts.” Something had gotten him worked up, and today it wasn’t Chuck Norris.

“What is it?”

Ducking his head, he began to pace, and I caught a clue. Cal must have observed something supernatural, and being Cal, tip-top, tough Marine, he didn’t know what to do about it. Anything that didn’t make sense could not be true. Poor guy. I was surprised his head hadn’t exploded in confusion.

“I found out more about the doctor.”

My mouth snapped shut so fast I narrowly missed biting my tongue. “The doctor?”