Beauty's Beast(41)

Samantha kept looking for Alon. When she found Aldara hurrying toward her, she rushed to meet her halfway.

“Is Alon all right?” asked Samantha.

“He is.”

Samantha felt a dizzying rush of relief, and some of the tension left her shoulders and neck.

Aldara’s eyes sought Blake, now speaking to his mother some thirty yards off.

“I came to see that you are all right,” said Aldara and then swept Samantha’s body with her gaze as if checking for injuries, lingering at her middle before meeting her eyes once more. The look was not sexual but certainly intrusive. Samantha frowned.

Aldara knew. Samantha was certain. She met the Ghostling’s eyes.

“Am I?” whispered Samantha.

Aldara nodded.

“They’re still here?” Samantha pressed both hands to her flat abdomen.

Aldara nodded. “I returned their souls myself.”

Samantha threw herself into Aldara’s arms and felt the Halfling stiffen.

She drew back. “Thank you, Aldara.”

“Don’t thank me yet. None of our mothers ever survived our births.”

“Humans.”

Aldara nodded. “But I would stay with you until your time to be certain you survive.”

Samantha smiled and squeezed Aldara’s hand. “Yes. I’d appreciate that.” She stared toward the Ghostlings’ camp. “Does he know?”

The quick shake of her head sent her feathery hair flying. “He’d come back if you tell him of the babies.”

Samantha looked away. “I won’t use them to hold him.”

Aldara’s gaze drifted back to Blake. “Tell your brother that I’ve finished my work here and I would like to see him before we go.”

Go?

Dread settled over Samantha as she realized what this meant. Alon had seen her safe and had seen her to her parents. His obligation was finished.

A buzz of apprehension grew in Samantha’s belly. What if he never came back?





Chapter 19



Alon had received Nicholas Chien in his tent and declined the offer to join the Skinwalkers at council the following evening, but tendered an offer that Sebastian was welcome in his camp and guaranteed him safe passage.

At sunrise, Samantha’s father, Sebastian, the War Chief of the Skinwalkers, arrived at their camp. He was escorted to Alon, who had slept little and was now organizing the fifty-some surviving Ghostlings to bury their dead. Just entering their camp showed his courage, for many here hated the Skinwalkers for their hunts of newborns.

Alon met him before the gathering of the Betas, Gammas and the new Delta Pack. Sebastian again requested that Alon and four others of his choosing accompany the Skinwalkers to council that evening.

“Who wishes our company?” asked Alon.

“I do. My people do.”

“But not the Spirit Children?” asked Alon.

Sebastian blew out a breath. “My son has convinced the council chiefs that it is safer to have you as an ally.”

“Than an enemy?” Alon finished.

“You are invited to meet with both Niyanoka and Ianoka. It is my hope you will accept.”

“The last time I spoke to your son he told me that we were not welcome here and that he could not prevent his people from killing mine. Now that we have won the battle for him, he invites me to parlay.”

“Your actions have proved us all wrong. We owe the victory to you and your people.” Sebastian followed this with an inclination of his head, a salute of sorts.

“Nagi is defeated. The Spirit Children and the Skinwalkers have no more need of us and we have none for them.”

The gathering muttered their approval of this.

“I am grieved,” said Sebastian. “But I will deliver your message.”

Alon waited but the great bear did not depart. At last he spoke again.

“I am in your debt for guarding my daughter and for saving her soul—all of our souls. Should you ever need my help or assistance, you need only ask.”

“I have one request,” he said, wishing he could ask about Samantha but knowing he could not. He had hurt her enough already. “Please tell our parents, Cesar Garza and Bess Suncatcher, that we love them and respect all they have done for us, but we are not returning to them. From here forward, the Ghost Children will gather our own orphans and raise them. We will teach them what they must know.”

“If that is your wish. I will deliver your message.” Sebastian continued to speak, raising his voice so the others could hear. “So with respect, I ask that you tell the Ghost Children that the Skinwalkers are your allies. Those who formed vigilante groups to attack your young will be brought to justice and their cowardly actions condemned.”

Alon turned to the gathering. “Objections?”

None spoke so he turned back to Sebastian, also raising his voice to be heard. “We will respect your word, Sebastian, for we saw you fight bravely while the Niyanoka hid behind their earthen wall. We accept the alliance with your people. Tell them that we will teach our descendants to respect the Balance and not to hunt the Skinwalkers, even when they are in animal form. Tell the Niyanoka, if you care to speak to them, that we will not attack the humans they protect. But we have no accord with them and advise that they keep their distance.”

“I will tell them.” Sebastian offered his hand.

The men shook. Alon was surprised at Sebastian’s grip and the fierceness in his eyes. Alon knew Sebastian would make both an imposing ally and a terrible foe. The War Chief of the Skinwalkers turned and left the camp, alone as he had entered it.

Aldara moved to stand beside Alon. “Are you sure you don’t want to see her again?”

He gave her an exasperated look.

“But she said she wants to see you.”

“She’s a healer and I reap evil ghosts. It’s over.”

“But she’s—”

He held up his hand and she stopped speaking. Silence stretched. His arm dropped heavily to his side. After several ragged breaths he managed to find his voice, but it was a weak and strangled thing.

“She told me.” He swallowed back the self-loathing. “She wants to use her powers. If she stays with me, they will banish her, too. I can’t do that to her. I want her to find her true soul mate. Can you understand? That’s not me.” His head hung. “It can’t be.”

Now it was Aldara’s turn to fire off a condemning stare.

“Are you coming with us?” he asked her.

Her jaw was set and her eyes blazed with blue fire. “No, I’m not.”

“Aldara, he doesn’t want you.”

She glared. “I know that. I’m not going to him, but I’m not going with you, either.”

“Where then?”

“I’m staying with Samantha.”

Which made no sense at all. Was this a hopeless effort to reach Blake through his twin?

“We’re leaving tonight, with you or without you.”

* * *

Blake sat at the council table with the four chiefs of the Niyanoka. As each spoke, his heart sank more and more. None saw that the way they had invited the Ghostlings to parlay was insulting. Rather they were offended that Alon had refused their summons.

He waited in the circle until the talking stick was passed to him, for only the one holding the stick could speak and it was rude to hold it for too long. He gripped the handle, which was covered with seed beads, their pattern forming a cross to represent the four directions. He stared for a moment at the coyote skull, festooned with a feather, glass beads and hanks of horse hair wrapped in bits of bright red cloth, as he gathered his thoughts.

Blake stood, holding the talking stick in two hands.

“We have won a great battle. Nagi has retreated to his Circle and will think long and hard before coming again to our Living World.”

Several nodded their approval of this.

“We acknowledge the bravery of our people and the Skinwalkers in this fight. But the victory goes to the Ghost Children.”

Blake gripped the stick, knowing that what he was about to say would ruin his chances of becoming a leader of the Niyanoka, but he would say it anyway because it was right.

“We have not acknowledged the part the Ghost Children played in the victory against Nagi. None of our people went to their camp. None thanked them for saving us all. And then we are outraged that Alon will not be summoned like a hound. They fought against their sire to save us all. It is a disgrace to pretend otherwise. This council will meet with the Skinwalkers in only a few hours, making this a historic day. But this council cannot ignore the third Halfling race, who has surely earned a place at the peace talks. We must send a delegation to the Ghostlings before it is too late.”

He handed over the stick to Chief Rice, who said, “I will not go to these terrors. They have the power to steal our souls. Going to their camp would be suicide.”