Jeanne Stein - Crossroads

I’ve run across desert before, with Frey. The night he mentioned when the two of us were sitting in the Jeep, watching the sky, waiting is a sunrise. Was that only a couple of days ago? It seems another lifetime. So much has changed. So much has been lost.

Frey showed me the way then. Just as he has so many other times in our short acquaintance. He’s always there for me. And what have I done for him in return? Caused him misery and brought death. I can’t believe he can stand to look at me.

Wel. The least I can do now is find him. Help him track down the two who orchestrated this last horror. I’l use animal instinct. I know I’l pick up Frey’s scent once I get close.

I leave my jacket and Kayani’s car keys on the porch.

Drawing my thoughts, I center on cal ing the vampire. She comes wil ingly, flexing muscles in preparation for our trek.

She’s happy to be free, happy to be hunting. It doesn’t happen often. Like the domesticated cat that seldom tastes freedom except in dreams of her primal ancestors, she relishes the prospect.

And so we run. I fol ow the Jeep’s tracks in the dusty earth.

We retrace yesterday’s journey until the point where a fresher trail presents itself. Frey this morning. I’m tempted to fol ow it.

But instinct says, keep on to the lodge. If I lose Frey at the first hotel because of traffic and false scents, I’ve wasted precious time.

And so we run. Senses ful of the perfume of the desert, dazzled by the color and texture of the earth underfoot, distracted here and there by the growl of another predator. A warning, but half hearted. Even the cougar and wolf know they are no match for vampire.

And so we run. Familiar terrain now, I pass the monolith that gave me shelter yesterday. A flicker of human thought. A decision to make. Can I give up this sense of freedom? Do I want to?

The lodge rises up in the distance. I slow my pace. Slow my heart. I need to be human when I approach. It takes some minutes. Vampire is not ready to relinquish her hold.

Patience. Your time wil come again. Soon.

Then you wil have your reward.

You wil have blood.

Chael’s blood.

THE LOBBY IS ONCE AGAIN FULL OF TOURISTS EITHER just back or about to depart on a tour. Excitement and anticipation color the air.

I approach the concierge desk. A bronze-skinned Navajo in a long-sleeved shirt and intricate bolo of beaten silver looks up at my approach. He’s handsome, young, dark hair polished to a sheen as it fal s around his shoulders. I’l bet it’s soft.

I’m tempted to reach out and touch it.

I resist, opting instead to smile and ask, “Can you give me directions to the View Hotel?”

He looks at me with eyebrows raised in shock. “You aren’t thinking of staying with our competition instead of here, are you?”

It takes me a beat to realize he’s teasing. I hold up both hands. “Never. I’m just supposed to meet someone there.”

While I’m talking, he’s pul ed a map from a rack on the corner of the desk. He’s smiling when he looks up and I imagine that thousand-watt smile coupled with that begs-to-be-touched hair have been the downfal of many a maiden.

It stirs vampire lust, and not for blood.

I ratchet down the hormones and concentrate on the directions he’s tracing on the map. “It’s only about four miles east on Monument Val ey Road.”

An easy run. I thank him and leave. There are four young col ege-age girls behind me, al big eyes and blond hair and sexy innocence, and I wonder what kind of personal instruction in the Navajo way he offers besides directions.

I run paral el to the road, out of sight of cars, but close enough to hear the wind rush of traffic. Vampire chastises me for thoughts of the handsome boy. Her thoughts are on finding our friend. Then we kil our enemies. Carnal pleasure comes after.

I’m there in minutes. The hotel is surrounded by pinnacles of rock, mesa and sand and framed by clouds. Shadows roam and dance over the desert floor. For a minute, human Anna enjoys the view, then she’s cal ed back by vampire.

First, find Frey’s Jeep in the parking lot. I don’t see it. Is it possible I beat him here?

The lots are ful. It’s a combination of sight and scent that lead me to the Jeep.

A hand on the hood. Warm. The smel and gurgle of fluids cooling tel s me he hasn’t been here long.

I hang back, out of sight, of the entrance. There is no artificial landscape here — the ground is barren of plants so I must find a spot in the only shade available — a corner of the building itself — and press back out of the light.

I open the conduit cautiously. Not to transmit, but to receive what I might. Even expecting it, I am disappointed that nothing comes through.

A grim thought. Has Frey already confronted Chael? Is he lying wounded, or worse, nearby? How many times have I beaten myself up for breaking the psychic connection between us? It leaves Frey helpless to reach out to me for help and me powerless to find him on my own.

Shit. I can’t wait here. It’s possible Chael and Judith have already moved on. Maybe I wasn’t giving them the show they expected. If this attempt is a bust, I’m sure Chael wil come up with something else.

I return to the Jeep. I’l ride back with Frey.

A shuffle of feet from the front of the hotel — as if people were running to get away. Frightened voices cal for security.

I smel fear and anger.

Fear from the humans escaping from inside.

Anger from Frey.

I buck the tide of people moving out to fight my way in. I see Frey, alone in the back of the lobby, crossbow drawn taut. He has a handkerchief over the lower part of his face. I hear Judith Wiliams’ thoughts now, as she begs for her life. I can’t hear Frey’s response but I know what I want to tel him.

Don’t listen.

In a heartbeat, I’m beside him. “Shoot her.”

She turns eyes fil ed with horror in my direction. “Anna. We are vampire family. Don’t let him do this.”

“Frey, if you don’t shoot her, I wil,” is my snarling response.

“If she’s here, Chael is close.”

“Do we need her to find him?” Frey asks me, voice devoid of al emotion.

“No.”

The arrow sings across space in a whisper. Judith Wiliams holds up her hands. The arrow pierces the right one and pins it to the middle of her chest. She has te to glance down once before her body crumbles into red ash.

“We have to go.”

Frey points with the crossbow to a stairway in the back of the lobby. Behind us, there is the sound of footsteps running our way. Either security or the police or some brave or curious soul wanting to see what has happened.

Frey and I don’t check behind us to find out. He pauses once to snatch up the arrow and we are behind the stairwel door and out the back before they reach the pile of ash that was Judith. I wish we had time to clean up. In a culture with skinwalkers who practice curse magic, I’m afraid some innocent might be blamed for what happened.

On the other hand, someone who practices curse magic is hardly innocent. I have experience. As far as I can remember, Frey’s identity was hidden behind the handkerchief and no one rushing to get out paused long enough to take note of the woman running in. There’s nothing left to identify as remains. Most likely, witnesses wil describe a kidnapping.

Process of elimination of the hotel guests may turn up Judith Wiliams as the “victim.” Even if that happened, Chael would most likely lie about his roommate being missing.

We’re at the Jeep and out of the lot before the alarm spreads. Only when Frey has taken us off the main road does he pul over and turn to me.

“Who is with John-John?” No recrimination in his tone, only a father’s interest.