RedKnife (Skin Walkers Book 2) (2 page)

Chapter 2

RedKnife sat on the mountainside overlooking StoneCrow Estates and watched the sleeping community.  Curling tighter into his wolf form, he wrapped his tail over his dark fur as he settled in for the night.  Though he had been assigned a suite within the manor, he preferred solitude.  Once he realized that RedKnife wasn’t using his suite, Monroe had him reassigned to a more secluded cabin, but still RedKnife preferred to sleep in wolf form under the stars.  It was how he was raised, how he’d spent the better portion of his life.  As an animal.

Sighing, he eyed the manor, wondering if he had made the right choice by coming to the here, aligning himself with StoneCrow.  He’d known for some time that Monroe’s plan was to build a community for their kind.  He just wasn’t sure he wanted to be a part of it.  He’d left his beloved desert to trek to Montana, and luckily his beasts took to the colder climate.

Closing his eyes, he focused on his body, on the beasts within.  He listened to the whoosh of blood in his ears and concentrated on forcing the poison out of him.  Whatever it was Jenny had injected him with was stalling out vital portions of his abilities.  He was enraged, but at least his heightened senses allowed him to know what she’d done.  All of the other Walkers were clearly oblivious.

Inhaling slowly, RedKnife centered on the elements in his blood he knew didn’t belong and tensed to force them out.  He’d been performing the ritual nightly, ever since he’d received his inoculation.  Only small amounts were excreted in the form of sweat during each session, but it was worth it.  He’d have the shit out his system before any of the other Walkers, and then he’d find out what it was and why they’d been injected.

Fighting to concentrate, he kept losing his focus as his thoughts kept straying to Cindy and her touch.  The last time a female touched him had been when Jenny had given him the shot, and it had been brief and impersonal.  Before that he couldn’t remember a female’s hands ever being on him.

Raised by his grandfather, he’d never known his mother or met any other female relation.  Perhaps that was why he had no real skill in communicating with females.  Hell, who was he kidding?  He had no real skill communicating with anyone.  Perhaps it was for the best.  Perhaps, because of what he was,
who
he was, he wasn’t meant to be like everyone else or to be
with
everyone else.  His Grandfather had said as much.

‘Never forget, Sha, we aren’t like everyone else.  The Creator relies on us to carry on the ways of our ancestors, and we must do so at all costs.’ 
He still remembered how mournful his Grandfather’s gaze had become. 
‘Even if it means foregoing our own happiness.  Betraying our own heart.’

At the time, the words inspired fear.  The thought of spending a life in servitude to an undefined cause was terrifying to a mere boy.  Now, RedKnife understood what his Grandfather had been getting at, but he wasn’t sure he believed in it wholeheartedly.  Would the Creator demand such sacrifice without any hope for the reward of love?  He prayed not.  He hoped the Creator would one day bless him with the gift he’d given so many other Walkers…an angel.

A dark shadow stepping from the tree line just inside the Estate drew his attention and had him sitting up.

Eyes narrowing, he let his nostrils flare as he scented the wind.  Blood.  And lots of it, but it was familiar.  He’d scented it on King yesterday when he’d delivered his “gift” to Lilly.  King had killed her attacker and, as she’d demanded in her agony, suffering no only from excruciating pain but the loss of her ability to have children due to her wounds, King had brought her Richard Jamison’s heart.

Now, as RedKnife watched King slink back onto the Estate under the cover of night, he knew his friend had finished disposing of the body.  He’d offered to do it, but King had been adamant that no one else be tied to the deed.  It was a foolish call.  King had Lilly now, and RedKnife had nothing…
no one
to lose.

***

Cindy entered her dumpy little apartment and cringed at the overwhelming scent of mothballs and old paint.  Depositing her keys on the table by the door, she stripped out of her coat and hung it on the back of a chair before crossing to the thermostat and cranking it, then hurrying to her small kitchenette and pulling a box of incense from the drawer.  It was a habit now.  Before anything else, she’d light incense in hopes of disguising the wretched scent.  She was of a mind that, just because life stunk, it didn’t mean her crappy apartment had to as well.

Waving the now smoking wand of incense about the room, she jabbed it into the soil of a plant and set about washing her hands.

Dinnertime.  She hated eating alone.  She hated living alone.  She shivered in her chilly apartment, as much from the silence as from the temperature.  She hated the silence, the yawning void of quiet that proved once again there was no one who cared how her day had gone, what small things had made her smile.  Placing her hands on the sink, she let the warm water seep into her bones.  It felt good, and she considered for a moment foregoing dinner for a hot bath. 
Oh yeah.
  Her shithole apartment didn’t have a tub.

Turning off the sink, she quickly dried her hands and went to her fridge where she eyed the few items inside. Though she couldn’t really force herself to feel any real interest in food, she knew she had to force herself to eat.  In the fall, she’d gotten so depressed that she stopped eating for several days.  The result?  She’d passed out at work.  Waking, she had found the doc, Jenny, fussing over her.  While it was humiliating, it had been the catalyst to her finally making a friend at the Estate.  Cindy and Jenny’s nurse, Stoney, had much in common. While Cindy was forced to drink several glasses of juice and eat a half-dozen cookies in the infirmary, Stoney had kept her company.  She was the only one who would even notice if Cindy dropped off the face of the earth.  Well, Stoney and…
him.

Just the thought of him had her slamming her fridge closed with a rattle of bottles as she turned and went to check her heat.  “Stupid fucking…thing!”  She read the numbers on the face, which showed a tolerable temperature, but it felt much colder in the apartment.  Hell, the heat hadn’t even kicked on since she’d cranked it up.

Crossing to her worn sofa she curled up in a corner and jerked a faded pillow into her belly, wrapping her arms around it to scowl at her empty TV stand.  She missed TV, and it was all
his
fault that she didn’t have one now.  She’d pawned the damn thing in an attempt to pull him out of another mess, only to have him call a week later looking for more cash because he’d once again, “pissed off the wrong guys.”  One of these days she was going to let those “guys” just fucking kill him.

Her anger burned bright, but faded quickly.  She didn’t have the energy for the emotion.  Not tonight.  Tonight, she felt tired and hungry and lonely and…  Hell, it felt like Wednesday.

She missed her parents; she missed having friends, but she didn’t have time for anything besides work, eat, and sleep.  Lethargy tugged at her daily, and she’d begun having anxiety attacks at work.  She needed something, and she needed it soon because she didn’t think she could take too much more of this life.

A few tears slipped free and she scrubbed at them in annoyance.  Crying solved nothing!  Shoving up off the couch, she walked to her kitchen and grabbed a glass of water and a ream of crackers before heading to her bedroom.  She’d crank up her electric blanket, get in her pj’s, and have the crackers and water while she lost herself in a good book.
  Thank God for fiction, cuz real life SUCKS!

Chapter 3

The next morning, Cindy was at StoneCrow Estates bright and early.  Well, it wasn’t really bright.  During Montana winters, the sun didn’t even rise until around eight o’clock and even then the clouds converged to hide her beauty.

Entering the side door to the Estate closest to the parking garage, Cindy stomped snow off her booted feet in the entryway.  The door led to a long corridor housing the Estate cafeteria and class rooms.

Exiting the corridor, she turned and slowed her pace at the view of two hulking Sentries blocking her path.

Cindy stopped next to Brock and Marko, two sentries who often frequented the pub upstairs where she worked. The two stood sipping hot coffee from paper cups while they watched the heated conversation taking place between Monroe, a much larger Sentry she didn’t recognize, Monroe’s Chief of Security King Mulholland, and some nerdy guy in an ugly brown suit.

She eyed the tense scene warily. “What’s going on?”

Marko answered without taking his eyes off King as the Chief of Security began to shout.  It was rare to see the normally calm and collected King lose his cool.  “Some detective is here trying to pin Richard Jamison’s disappearance on RedKnife.”

Brock elbowed Marko in the ribs and Marko looked from Brock to Cindy.

“Who’s Richard Jamison?” Cindy asked, watching the exchange between the two men.

“Some missing rancher,” Brock supplied coolly.  “They’re claiming his house was ransacked last night.”  Both Brock and Marko knew the detective was on a witch hunt to prosecute RedKnife.  Both Walkers knew King, the Chief of Security for StoneCrow, had taken care of Richard Jamison.  King had been thorough – they knew no one would be able to produce a hair as a testament to the man’s existence, let alone locate the body unless King wanted them to.

“Who’s RedKnife?” Cindy asked, still in the dark.

Brock motioned with his head in the direction of the group huddled in the center of the Manor’s lobby.  “The mean looking one.”

Looking over the group, Cindy recognized Monroe, he’d hired her himself just two years earlier.  Her eyes didn’t even register the nerdy detective, and skimmed briefly over King, before they focused on the large brooding figure that dwarfed the detective and stood an unbelievable three inches taller than Monroe.  He had raven-black hair, pulled back in a tight braid that hung to his waist.  His sharp black eyes were pinned to the detective under drawn angry brows.  He was the largest man she’d ever seen, and the sexiest.  Her eyes drank in the sight of him, snagging on the sexy-as-hell tattoo on his forearm.  Cindy licked her lips and grinned her approval as she watched RedKnife’s shoulders and biceps flex under his form-fitting white shirt.  Clearly, he was trying to keep from punching a hole through the nerdy detective.  Her eyes widened a fraction.  She remembered him!  When she’d taken food to Lilly’s room in the infirmary, he’d been the one she had coerced into holding the tray with Lilly’s food.

“RedKnife didn’t do it.”  She spoke without thinking, though she had no idea why she said it.  She had no way of knowing for sure whether or not he had anything to do with the missing rancher’s disappearance, but she could tell by his angry façade that he certainly didn’t appreciate the accusation.  He seemed the type to take credit for his actions.

“Do you know him?” Brock questioned doubtfully.

“No,” Cindy answered honestly.  “I’ve seen him around, but we’ve never met.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter if he did it or not.” Brock countered. “Without a credible alibi they’re gonna run him through.  That asshole has had it in for RedKnife since the fight in town.  Fucking cowards are just afraid of him.  But they know he’s a loner, he’ll have no proof of his whereabouts.  Shit, if we just had a cover story for last night.”

“Wouldn’t work,” Marko countered.  “That cop would never believe one of Monroe’s other sentries.”

Eyes still riveted on the hottest man she’d ever seen, Cindy whispered, “What fight?”

“Some assholes at a bar in town,” Brock growled.  “We took RedKnife because he’d never been before.  It ended badly.”

She wanted to ask if he meant that RedKnife had never been to town, or had never been to a bar, but then an idea struck.  Her eyes sparkled mischievously. 
Alibi huh?
  “Give me those.”

Cindy took the coffees from Brock and Marko’s hands as the two huge men scowled down at her in displeasure.  “Pay you back later, boys.”  She winked then sashayed away, calling out in her sultriest voice, “RedKnife, there you are.”

The group turned to her as she pasted on her sexiest smile.  Approaching, she gently shoved one of the coffees into RedKnife’s chest.  “Sorry to interrupt.”  She beamed up at him without looking at the others.  “I brought you a coffee, and just wanted to thank you again for last night.”

RedKnife stared down at the petite brunette, unsure how to react, as both Brock and Marko gaped from a distance.

The detective stared incredulously at the woman who had suddenly appeared.  “What do you mean, last night?  Are you claiming you spent the evening with this…
man
?”

Cindy pulled her adoring eyes from RedKnife to frown at the pasty detective.  “Who are you?”

Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved his badge and flashed it at her.  “Detective Cameron.  Were you with this man last night?”

Cindy pulled her features tighter, feigning confusion.  “Yes.”

It was a lie.  The Walkers all knew it, could smell it, but the detective couldn’t.  Monroe raised his brows and cleared his throat, but Detective Cameron forged on.

“And your name?”

“Cindy.  Cindy Sambrano.”

“And what,
exactly,
were you doing with this man last night, Ms. Sambrano?”

RedKnife was more than a little intrigued by the flush that touched the woman’s pixie-like features.

Cindy’s face split in a naughty grin. “I’m single, and he’s built like a Greek God.  What do you
think
we were doing?”  She smiled up at RedKnife, threading her tiny fingers through his much larger ones as his hand hung limply at his side.  She felt him tense at her touch, and it was a little deflating.  “Anyway, gotta go or I’ll be late for work.”  She bit her lower lip seductively.  “See you tonight?”

Before RedKnife could answer Detective Cameron stepped closer to her, but stopped in his tracks when RedKnife’s scowling gaze sliced to the much smaller man.

“Uh…Miss?” Detective Cameron began.  “I’m going to need to ask you a few more questions.”

Cindy looked at him over her shoulder, her body turning into RedKnife’s as she reached up and had to tip-toe to brush her fingers over his cheek. “Can it wait until later?  I really am going to be late.”

“It can’t wait.”  Monroe cut in.  “I’ll have someone else cover for you.  Now, answer Detective Cameron’s questions.”

Cindy turned to face the detective, more than a little annoyed at Monroe’s insistence that she stay.  “Shoot.” She commanded abruptly.

Detective Cameron pulled the predictable pad of paper and pen from his pocket.  “Where were you last night,
exactly
?”

Cindy sighed, not having to feign the annoyance she felt.  If the jerk emphasized the word ‘exactly’ one more time, she was going to stomp on his toes.  She pretended to have something in her eye in order to buy a little time while trying to hide her uncertainty at whether RedKnife or Monroe had already fed the detective a different story.  When neither man jumped in, she continued.  “I was working and…”

“Working where?”

“She works here at the estate,” Monroe supplied.  “Has for two years.”

Cameron lifted his head and stared from Monroe to Cindy in confusion.

Cindy smirked.  “I’m a bartender.”

Inclining his head in comprehension, he mouthed the word ‘oh’ before rolling his pen in the air, drawing invisible circles and barking, “Continue.”

“As I said, I was working last night.  My shift started at six.  RedKnife came in around nine.”

“Nine.  You’re sure?”

“Yes.  I remember because the hockey game had just ended.  Anyway, we were the only two in the place, so I bought him a drink.  He stayed ‘till I closed at two.”

“Then what?”

“Then we went back to his place.”

“And?”

Cindy was truly annoyed now.  “
And
, we fucked our brains out until neither one of us could move.”

Cindy shot King an irritated look as he coughed to cover a laugh.

Cameron looked up and tapped his pen on his chin.  “Do you have proof?”

Cindy’s eyes rounded, and then angry heat flooded her cheeks as she looked up at RedKnife.  “Not sure if the cleaning staff tends his quarters, but if you hurry you might beat ‘em.  The sheets are probably still on the bed.”  She turned laughing eyes on the detective.  “You might find some
proof
there.” She winked at him.

Her annoyance waned as she watched Cameron’s ears burn in embarrassment.

“Anything else?”  Monroe questioned, not even attempting to hide the amusement in his voice.

“No, that’s all.”  Detective Cameron snapped his book closed.  “I trust I can find you if I have further questions?”

“I’ll be here.” Cindy stated calmly, before turning to RedKnife.  She tiptoed again and curved a small hand behind his neck to pull him down to her.  He kept his eyes pinned to hers as she pressed her lips to his briefly then pulled back.  “See you tonight, kitten’s eyelashes.”  She couldn’t help the outlandish endearment.  It was so out of place for the menacing man, but she knew he couldn’t say anything.

Hearing what sounded like a grumble emit from RedKnife, and an outright laugh from King, she turned and strode away delighted with herself for having saved a man she’d never met, just because she knew it was right.

“WAIT!” Detective Cameron bellowed.

Cindy cringed. 
Shit! 
Turning slowly, she feigned annoyance even as her worry spiked. “Yeah?”

“What time did you leave?”

Delicate brows knitted.  “What?”

Cameron stepped closer to her.  “What time did you leave him?”

Cindy looked from Cameron to RedKnife.  It’d have to be late enough that he wouldn’t have had time to sneak off for anything nefarious, but her car was still warm in the garage, and if the detective went snooping he’d know she’d driven in this morning.

She stuck out her bottom lip in a moue and eyed RedKnife.  “Oh, about four this morning.”  She cocked her head.  “That sound about right, babe?”

The detective turned to stare at RedKnife who simply stared, blank-faced, at Cindy.

She felt her face flush.  “Right?”  Her eyebrows hiked.  “
Babe?
”

RedKnife scowled and gave a single curt nod.

“Four a.m.,” Cameron repeated as he jotted on his pad.  “Got it.”

Turning, Cindy hurried for the safety of the Crow’s Nest.  Her belly somersaulted at the prospect of getting caught lying for RedKnife and the potential ramifications.  She prayed her actions didn’t come back to bite her.

***

Kitten’s eyelashes?
  RedKnife’s eyes were glued to Cindy as she walked away.  He had no idea why the woman had come to his rescue and flat out lied for him.  He could tell from Monroe’s expression when she’d approached that the CEO hadn’t put her up to it.  And why in the fuck she’d just called him kitten’s eyelashes he had no idea, but he did know that when her lips pressed to his was the fourth time this woman had touched him.  Nobody ever touched him…
ever!
  Oddly though, where every other’s touch offended him, Cindy’s did not.  As a matter of fact, when she’d pressed her lips to his, and he’d inhaled the sweet cherry scent of her, something warm had coursed through his body.  He’d had to fight the urge to wrap his arms around her and crush her to him, taking his fill.

“Well,” Cameron began, drawing RedKnife’s attention back to him.  “You’re free for now Mr. KillsPrettyEnemy, but rest assured I will be looking into Ms. Sambrano’s claim
and
history.”

RedKnife’s nostrils flared as he continued to scent Cindy long after she’d disappeared.  She was sweet smelling, almost overwhelmingly so.  He inhaled again. 
Chokecherry syrup.
  She smelled how it tasted.  Odd.  She clearly wasn’t Native, not with her fair skin tone and odd last name.  So, why did she smell like she belonged in his Montana, the newly adopted home he’d quickly grown to love?

His nostrils flared again.  He imagined her scent would be a cloyingly sugary scent to others, but he liked it.  It made him
hungry
…and not for food.

Mind reeling with the images Cindy’s words had conjured up, RedKnife shifted uncomfortably.  She’d claimed that she’d come back to his home and that they’d “
fucked until neither one of them could move.
”  He was stunned when his cock hardened.  He’d been ignoring Cameron and Monroe, and was considering going after Cindy, when the threat to look into her story and history had him turning on the detective with a growl of disapproval.