The Spirit Tree (11 page)

“If you count tin cans as hunting.” I laughed. “Do you?”

“I used to with my dad. We’d camp out in the mountains and bring home enough deer to last months. I haven’t gone since I moved to Florida.” His eyes lost their sparkle.

“When did your dad pass away?”

Aaron tilted his head. “My senior year of high school. Both of my folks were killed in a car accident. How did you know?”

“I read people for a living. What they say with their words is only half of what they actually say.”

“You should have been a police officer.” He laughed. “You’d make a good one. You’ve had a rough go of it the last few days, and you’re still standing.”

I smiled and touched his cheek. “That’s because I was raised by two genuine southern ladies, sweet as honey and tough as nails.”

He leaned forward and brushed his lips across mine. The angle made the kiss awkward. I pulled back as the image of him hugging two young children flashed through my mind for the second time.

“Do you have kids?”

“Uh, no. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. It just occurred to me you might have kids.”

He leaned forward to put his beer on the nightstand and kissed me again. This time his mouth pressed more firmly to mine. He traced a slow line across my lower lip with his tongue as he pulled away. His eyes locked on mine, and I kissed him again. I’d imagined kissing him since we’d first met. The real thing was better than I thought it would be.

I ran my hand to his chest as he slid his arm around my shoulder. He eased me closer and tangled his fingers in my hair. We held each other, lingering in the kiss. When we parted, he nuzzled his face against mine. I melted.

He whispered into my ear, “Who takes care of you, Tessa?”

My breath hitched in my throat, and I shook my head. Any other time I would’ve said I could take care of myself. Lately, my life had had more twists than Mae’s soap operas. The idea of someone taking care of me sounded pretty darned good.

He pulled back and brushed his fingers over my cheek. “You look tired. I should go?”

“Stay.”

I smelled bacon and snuggled into the pillow. Aaron’s cologne lingered, reminding me of the night before. I threw the blankets off and slid into my jeans. Where had Aaron gone?

I had to give myself props for keeping my hands to myself—well, mostly to myself. My lips ached from too much kissing. I brushed my teeth and splashed some water on my face. I pulled my hair into a ponytail and limped into the kitchen. The limp purely for Aaron’s benefit.

Aaron and Bryson sat at Mae’s table eating a mountain of eggs, bacon, and grits. Both men turned and smiled. They seemed too friendly with each other. I went for the coffeepot and stumbled over the box of old bottles.

“Are you okay?” Aaron stood to help.

“Yes, just not used to having a box in the middle of the kitchen.” I slanted my eyes at Bryson, and he shrugged.

“When do you have to be in the office?” I sat and sipped my coffee.

“I’m off, unless they call me in.” Aaron motioned to the food. “You should eat some breakfast. We didn’t do a half-bad job.”

“We?” I filled my plate. “Would you two mind helping me with a project this morning? I need to hang those bottles in the oak out front.”

Bryson said, “Do you think it’s a good idea to be outside? I mean you’re so white. You’ll will burn in the sun.”

I choked on my coffee. “I’ll be fine.”

“Why do you want to hang bottles in a tree?” Aaron had watched the exchange between Bryson and me with an amused grin.

“Gram says the clear ones are for wishes, and the blue ones trap evil spirits.”

They grinned and remained quiet, finishing their breakfast. It surprised me when they each took their plates to the sink. I debated offering to do the dishes, but decided to enjoy watching someone else do them. I sat on the floor and sorted through the dusty old bottles. “Mae would wash these before she hung them. It’s supposed to rain later. I say we just—”

“Hose them down in the yard,” Aaron said.

Pain bloomed in my finger, and I yanked my hand back. “Ouch, dang it.”

“What did you do?” Bryson blanched when I stuck my bleeding finger in my mouth.

“Cut my finger on a broken bottle.”

Aaron offered me his hand. “Stand up. Let me take a look.”

I reached for his hand and allowed him to hoist me to my feet. As I pulled my hand free, my fingertips brushed across his watch. My mind flooded with images of a man and woman riding in a car. “What in the world?”

“Are you all right?” Aaron put his hand on my shoulder to steady me.

“May I see your watch?” I held out my hand.

He looked at me as if I were nuts, slid the watch off, and dropped it into my hand. I closed my hand around the watch, and more images came to me. I saw the couple in the car, laughing. The man had the same crystal-blue eyes as Aaron; they had to be his parents. The warmth of the moment ended when another vehicle slammed into the side of the car. Aaron’s father stared at his wife. Blood coated her face. He tried to call her name, to reach for her hand, but the car exploded before he could touch her.

My screams rang in my ears. I startled when Aaron touched my arms, and I dropped the watch. The vision stopped, but the terror took longer to shake. I sank to the floor, sobbing.

“Tessa, what is it?” Aaron sat on the floor beside me. He looked up at Bryson. “Does she have seizures?”

Bryson shook his head and picked up the watch.

“What’s happening to her? Has she done this before?”

Bryson folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t know.”

I raised my head and swallowed the bile in my throat. “I saw your parents. That was his watch. He was wearing it when he died.”

Aaron stared as if I’d punched him.

“I see things sometimes. I saw the accident.”

Aaron let out a nervous laugh. “Come on, Tessa, be serious. This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not joking. They were broadsided. The car exploded after impact.”

Aaron’s mouth fell open. “How did you know that?”

“I told you. I see things sometimes.” I stood and went to the cupboard for Mae’s whiskey.

Aaron watched me as I drank straight from the bottle. “You’re right, that’s how they died.”

I wrapped my arms around myself. “I’m sorry.”

“Can you do that with a murder weapon?”

“No. That isn’t a good idea,” Bryson chimed in. “If she comes forward as a seer, both Tessa and the department will be ridiculed.”

Aaron and I stared at Bryson. “He’s right, Aaron. I’m sorry.”

“What if we do it on the down low? Maybe you can point us in the right direction? You said you didn’t believe it was the father.”

“You’re talking about the Rivera case, the missing kids?”

“Yes.” Aaron reached for my hand but stopped short.

Bryson said, “Tessa, you can’t get involved in this.”

I turned to Bryson. “And if an innocent man goes to jail?”

“You’ll help?” Aaron stared at me.

“Yes, as long as we keep it between us.”

Bryson shook his head. “If you’re going, I’m going.”

“Great. I’ll call you when I get to the station.” Aaron hurried out the door.

“You like him?” Bryson leaned against the counter.

I scowled. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yeah, I do.”

Bryson turned to the sink of dishes. “He seems like a straight-up guy . . .”

“Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ in there?”

“Using magic around outsiders isn’t a good idea.”

“I didn’t use magic. I don’t even know what I used. It just happened.”

“Your relationship with Aaron—it can’t work,” Bryson said.

“Why not?”

“It’s forbidden to expose your animal self to normal folk. Most of the tribe doesn’t know about us, let alone outsiders.”

“I didn’t expose anything to Aaron.”

Bryson shrugged. “The more he’s around, the more risk you run of him finding out.”

“My uncle—I mean, my grandfather—married an outsider. It didn’t cause them any problems.” I didn’t want to hear it, especially from someone I barely knew.

“Dottie was exposed to shifters before she met your grandfather. She survived an attack, and he healed her. She was permitted to live, if he took an oath to keep her silent.” Bryson set a pot in the dish drainer.

“How do you know about this and I don’t?”

“I was there when he took the oath.” He turned and dried his hands.

“What? When you were two? Bull.”

“I was in my late sixties when they were married.” He tossed the towel on the counter. “We don’t age like others.”

I sat down and put my head in my hands. “My grandfather was a shifter?”

Bryson nodded.

“He aged like a normal man.”

“Are you certain?” Bryson’s chin rose. “He was Nunnehi. There’s no telling how old he was. Purebloods can live forever.”

I tried to process the information and the wash of emotions surging over me. “Are you a half-breed like me?”

He nodded. “My mother was full Nunnehi. The elders thought I was the last of the blood, until last night.”

“It was no accident they sent you to guard me, was it?” I had a sneaking suspicion this was like Gram Mae inviting eligible men from church to dinner.

“No, it wasn’t. I had my mother to show me the ways. You have no one.”

“So you’re my bodyguard and magic teacher?” I laughed. “As long as they aren’t playing matchmaker.”

“Oh, they’re doing that, too.” He chuckled. “I volunteered.”

I shook my head and stood with both hands up. “I’m going to hang the bottles. Alone.”

I threw a roll of twine into the box and grabbed wire hangers from the closet, along with wire cutters. When I came back into the kitchen, Bryson held the box. “Ready?”

“I don’t need help. I can do it myself.”

“Are you forgetting someone shot you in the yard? You aren’t going out there until I have a chance to check the fields.” He pushed the screen door open. “Wait here.”

How much protection could a screen door provide from a bullet? I shook my head.

Bryson set the box on the ground and pulled his T-shirt over his head. He kicked his boots off and dropped his jeans. I would have enjoyed the view more if he weren’t so annoying.

Bryson ran and leaped into the air. One second he was a man, the next a large bird. “Impressive,” I remarked. I envied the ease of his transition. I turned and went into my bedroom. My frown disappeared when I caught a whiff of Aaron’s cologne in the air.

I checked my phone—no messages. He’d just left, too soon for a call. What if he didn’t call after the weirdness this morning? Maybe Bryson was right. Bringing in an outsider would only complicate matters. Would the elders kill Aaron if he knew the truth? Better question: Would Aaron believe me if I told him?

The screen door opened and Bryson walked in, naked. “Are you coming?”

I covered my eyes and turned my head. “Yes, but put some clothes on.”

“I’m going to shift again in a minute. Easier to fly with the twine than haul a ladder or toss it up.”

“Fine, then shift. We don’t know each other well enough to be walking around naked.”

“Whatever you say, miss ‘naked in the middle of the fire.’”

I pushed past him and walked out the door. He shifted, and landed in the tree. I ignored him and sat in the grass, wrapping a piece of wire around the neck of a bottle. Once I had the bottles wired, I cut long pieces of twine. Bryson flew down and watched me. I knew it was Bryson, yet I felt silly talking to a bird.

“Can you knot it around a branch?”

Bryson dipped his beak and flew into the tree with a piece of twine. He cawed, and I fastened a bottle to the hanging twine. He hopped down and took a second piece of twine, returning to the same branch.

“No, do a different branch.” I shook my head. “Now you’re too high. I can’t reach to tie it off.”

Bryson screeched, and it sounded way too close to annoyance. After a few attempts, we found a rhythm. The entire project took less than an hour. I admired our handiwork. “Looks good.”

He flew down and landed beside my feet, chirping.

“What?”

He flew in a circle above my head, landed, and nudged my leg.

“You want me to fly with you?” I hoped against hope that no one was watching the strange conversation. “Turn around.”

Bryson turned his back. I entertained the idea of kicking him while I had the advantage of height and weight, but thought better of it. In human form, he outweighed me by a hundred pounds. I stripped down, focused, and managed to change forms. Even after I’d fully changed, I was disoriented. The hawk nudged me until I shook out my wings and took flight.

Bryson blew past me, creating a change in the air current. I glided into his wake, riding his draft. He cut to the side sharply and flew higher, his wings stretched to their full span as he circled above me. I followed his lead and circled with him, until he turned and came head-on.

The human part of my brain panicked as he barreled toward me. I twisted to change course, and his talons locked with mine. Before I could free myself, he took us into a steep dive. He released me before we hit the tree line, and soared back into the sky. I followed.

The play felt intimate somehow. Instinct took over, and I hung back as he showed off with spins and dives. He flew higher than I dared, then dove toward me. This time I used my wings to stop my flight, which sent my talons and tail feathers to the front. Once again, we locked talons and spun in a dizzying dive.

We played in the sky until the sun sat directly overhead. He circled over the pink house and landed on a branch of the bottle tree. I landed beside him, grooming my feathers. I didn’t let them blaze, though the heat burned below the surface. Two birds in the morning sky wasn’t anything unusual; a bird with wings of fire would draw unwanted attention.

Bryson watched as I groomed my feathers. When I finished, he rubbed his head against mine and nipped me. I ignored him, stretching my wings before I flew to the ground.

He followed and shifted back before he touched the grass. I shifted a moment later. We stood staring at each other. He ran his fingers across my cheek with half-lidded eyes. I huffed and marched to my clothes, scooped them up, and headed toward the house.