 
Mohawk Moon

By N. Kuhn
This book is written and edited by N. Kuhn. All rights reserved. Do not copy, or use in any unofficial capacity. Any resemblance, name usage or events are purely coincidental.

Nicole Kuhn

Copyright 2012 by Nicole Kuhn

Smashwords Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

I dedicate this book to my loving husband. Thank you for giving me "Mommy time" to write this!
TABLE OF CONTENTS

Janelle

Damien

Mourning

Oblivious

History or New Beginning

Family Secrets

Honor

The Woods

My Savior

The Battle

My Vengeance

The Rescue

The Aftermath

The Future

#  Janelle

My heart starts pounding when I see the sign that says 'Welcome to Fort Edward Population 3011'. The bus sails by, heading deeper into the Adirondack Mountains and I know what's waiting for me ahead. My sister Samantha will be at the station. I haven't been home in 10 years. I never thought I would return. Samantha and I were like twins growing up, despite the four year gap in our ages. We were always close in height, weight, and looks. I haven't seen her for so long, but I'm sure she still looks like me. We both had our mother's high cheek bones, long black hair, but our father's wild green and brown eyes. We could always read each other's mind, and it came in handy when things go rough at home. Phillip, our father, always said he could trace his family back to the beginning of Fort Edward, and argued with our mother when she defiantly told him the Mohawk people were here first.

When our father was drunk, which was quite often, he would tell stories he family passed on about killing savages, his favorite being the one of him, Phillip Sunderland, taming the 'Wild Indian Woman'. This, referring to our mother and how he beat her for stepping out of line, was his favorite description of her. He was proud of it. My mother was Ahimsa Sunderland. In the Mohawk tongue, it meant nonviolent virtue. He had always tried, but never, until now, succeeded in beating her into complete submission. Our mother lived up to her name, choosing her words to battle my father, not violence. Most of the time, she only complied, to keep us safe. Why she had stayed with him, I never really knew. When he was sober, it was a whole other world. We were a real family then, but those moments were few and far between. He would run and play with me and my sister in the yard; he would take us to movies. We could pretend for a short time that we were all happy.

We weren't fools though. We knew that things would always go back to the way they were before, and the older we got, the fewer times we spent happy. The beatings on mother got worse, and started to include us, no matter what she did. The nightly visits Samantha and I had gotten since the age of five became more frequent. I always thought mother knew, and was afraid to stop him. But, as I got older, I realized maybe she was in denial. I mean, what mother would let that happen to her children?

Two days after I finished high school I left for good. I didn't even stay for my graduation ceremony. I didn't look back. Samantha and I used to stay up and talk long into the dark scary night about how we would travel the world together. It helped keep our mind off of what we knew would happen to us if and when Phillip came home from the bar. I know it tore us apart when I left without her. It was like an invisible Grand Canyon sprouted up between us. I know I broke her heart because we hadn't spoken since. I always knew if I stayed, I would eventually be dead like my mother now is, or I would be rotting in jail for murder, Phillips' murder. He finally must have managed to kill her. Another Mohawk head to add to his mantle. My reason for finally returning home.

I had heard talk growing up about the things his family did to our people. Stories of wiping out an entire blood line and of long lost family feuds. People claiming Phillip was a murderer. That he had killed someone when I was younger. I don't know how much was true, or made up, glorified by Phillip. People tended to steer clear of us. Calling us 'The drunks' daughters', 'Mutts', 'Trash'. It was hurtful, but I learned how to fight, and the teasing stopped, but the whispers didn't.

As the bus continues up the winding road, I think back on the call I received only twenty four hours ago. I didn't even recognize Samantha's voice when I picked up. I was sitting in my loft in Chicago, unwinding from a long day on the streets. I had joined the CPD a few years ago when I decided to settle down. I've been a beat cop ever since. Everyone in the force is always trying to climb the ladder and make Detective or launch into politics. I was happy just riding the streets. I got to unleash fury and rage, inherited from Phillip, on the low lives and scrum I encountered daily. The job suited me. I loved handling a gun, having the power and authority over these people. I loved the respect that came with the badge. I had just finished a twelve hour shift, and was sitting in my dingy little apartment, icing a black eye, trying to drink myself to sleep.

Lounging on the couch with my cold Corona, blankly flipping through the channels on my small TV, my phone rang. I didn't really have any friends there. Hell, I didn't even think anyone knew that number.  
"Hello?" I had answered. I was curious to see who it was. I heard the trembling voice on the other line reply, "Jany, mom's dead. If you're coming home, the funeral is in two days."  
"Sammy? Is that you? What happened? How did you find me? Are you ok? What d-do you mean mom's dead?" My hands started shaking.  
"She's dead Jany, there's a bus leaving in the morning, I'll have a ticket ready in your name if you choose to come home."

She had completely ignored my questions, and hung up. I sat there, frozen with fear and sadness, staring at a photo of us girls on my table. It was the only remnant of a lost life. I heard the phone beeping, realizing that I still had the receiver to my ear. I had placed it back in the cradle and jumped up to pack. I had felt a sickness in my stomach at the thought of returning home. I didn't know what to expect, what things would be like. What Sammy would be like? I had collapsed onto the edge of my bed, fidgeting with the hem of my gray t-shirt, glancing around at the messy apartment surrounding me.

What do I pack? How long would I stay? I was so nervous. How would things be between Sammy and I? Would we fall right back into being close? Would she be as cold to me in person as she was on the phone? Does she hate me that much? Not that I don't deserve it. I did abandon her. Maybe this would be a chance to redeem myself, fix things with her, and be family again. Sitting there, I had realized what I had been missing all these years. I sat there crying for who knows how long. Minutes, hours. I had a small one bedroom, but maybe Sam would return with me. Maybe she would want to come live in Chicago with me. I could buy a house, or rent a larger apartment. I had my money still, from our grandparents. Sam sounded so unhappy on the phone. Was that how speaking to me made her feel? Or was she just suffering from our mother's death?

This may not be a great start to our reunion. I suppose she's harbored hatred towards me after leaving. I can only imagine the horrors she has gone through staying with Phillip all these years. I used to think Ahi stayed with him because she felt we needed a father, but as we grew, I thought it was because she was afraid to leave. Afraid he would hurt one of us, or follow us, kill us. I never knew exactly what. She has her own money. She could have taken Sammy and me and left, we would have survived just fine. My own anger returns to the pit of my stomach as I'm pulled back to the present. She could have gotten us out of that situation a long time ago. Now look where it's left all of us. Apart, alone, separate parts of the country, isolated from each other. Hopefully I can repair that while I'm home with Samantha.

The bus pulls up to a stop, as night sets in, and I see Sammy, standing there on the platform, her eyes piercing through the rain as it falls. I stand, and grab my bag. I've been the only one on the bus since it left Buffalo. I step off, and walk over to her. The rain falls down around us. I get soaked. She takes my bags and turns on her toes, and starts to walk away.  
"Sammy, please," and I grab her, trying to embrace her. "I'm sorry. I had to leave. I couldn't take you with me."  
"Not now", is her only reply, interrupting me, "We can talk later. We need to go."  
She pushes away and continues to the parking lot. My shoulders slump, and I hang my head, following after her. Maybe I shouldn't have come back. I turn as I hear the bus pull away, and with it, my chance to run again.

I glance around at the same station I stood in all those years ago, anxious to escape. Nothing had changed, not even the paint. There are only a few people standing around. As we walk, I notice a man about our age, tall, muscular, strong handsome face, leaning on the building. He's partially hidden in the shadows, but I can see enough of him. As we approach, I know he's trying hard to look like he doesn't notice us. My cop instincts kick in. I scan up and down. 6'6"ish, wavy dark hair falling past his ears, dark eyes, very well built. I can see a hint of muscle definition under the black t-shirt and blue plaid shirt he has on. The arms are rolled up to the elbows, jeans slightly torn in the leg, Army issue combat boots. He looks like he hasn't shaved in a few days.

I can see a bulge in his waist. Every sense tingles. I know it's a gun. I can spot them a mile away. We walk by, and he catches me looking at him. There's a sliver of shock that passes through his eyes, and then he quickly looks away. I stop, and keep staring. I know he can feel my eyes, as he turns to leave in the opposite direction of us. I try to forget about the strange man, but file the creepy feeling I have into the back of my mind. I follow my angry sister to the parking lot.

Our family always was well off. My mothers' parents had set up a trust fund for her, which she split between my sister and me when we each turned twelve. It was all earnings from casinos and bars they built around the mountains and worldwide. My father's family had money as well. Their wealth was built on the death of others. Ill-gotten money from their family tree. My grandfather never would speak of exactly how they got it. Ahi always just referred to it as blood money. My father never worked. He never had to. He just lived off their family wealth. Drank away a lot, but somehow never seemed to run out of money.

Sammy stops at a brand new Range Rover.  
"Splurging already huh?" I ask her jokingly, only to be ignored. I climb in, soaked to the bone from the short walk through the parking lot. I feel a chill ripple through my body. Sam seems fine, like she doesn't even notice the water coating her. We ride in silence during the thirty minute drive up the mountain. Now I see why she bought this truck. It easily handles the winding roads, and uphill climb. I see headlights behind us. My nerves go into over drive, my adrenaline starting to coarse through my veins. The fog is starting to roll in with the night. The trees climb up the sides of the road as if a hand enclosing over us. The moonlight is barely seeping through their tops. Pure darkness except our headlights and the ones behind us. Not many people live up this far. It's probably nothing, I tell myself, one of the neighbors. But, something is telling me this is the stranger from the station following us.

After being gone for so long, our home still looks as nothing has changed. I keep glancing in the mirror, trying to see who is behind us, but gasp as we pull into the driveway. It's like being pulled into a time warp, as if nothing can reach us up here. Not even the law. I had always thought our father decided to build up here because it was far away from everything. He was able to do as he wished. I look at Sammy with anxiety in my eyes.  
"He's not here", she says, glancing over her shoulder at me, "He took off after the incident and we haven't seen him since. Chief Niti has an APB out for him and says everyone in the area is on alert."

Chief Niteesh (meaning God of Law in the Mohawk language) has been Chief of Police since I can remember. When things got bad enough to call the police on Phillip, Niti and his brother Raman would show up with fresh hot chocolate from the diner in town. Raman wasn't too much older than us. He would sit on the back porch with us while Niti tried to calm Phillip down. I used to think of Niti as my father. Wishing we were his daughters instead. He had never married and had no children of his own. I know he looked out for Sam and me. What a different life we would have had if we were his. A life without violence, full of real love.

I suppose in those few words she spoke to me, I learned two things. One, that I could relax a little. He wouldn't be here to confront me. There would be no great battle between me and my long lost father for now. Two that no matter how mad she may be with me, Sammy and I still had that bond. She could still tell what I was thinking just by looking at me. I guess it's a start. As I climb out of the Rover, I see the car that was following us slow down, and then pass by. A dark colored Jeep. They could have been slowing for the curve ahead, I tell myself, but I know it's not true. Jeeps are common up here because they're good at the terrain. Something is not right, and I sense that things may go bad. I just can't put my finger on it.

I look up at the moon through the trees. It's a new moon. That's not good. My mother always told me it's bad luck to see a new moon through the trees. I turn and hurry to catch up with Sammy as we trudge through the mud to the house. I'm hoping I didn't just curse myself. I guess Ahi never was able to talk Phillip into turning the dirt driveway to stone or paved. I suppose this was because he felt it was easier to keep us trapped here in the winters, the driveway unusable.

The great log cabin rises above us. The three floor home was as much a mansion as it was a lodge. Windows everywhere, like ark eyes, to look out over the forest. There are chimneys jutting up from different parts of the house, they always looked like claws pointing up at the sky. This house looked as evil as Phillip was. He put himself into building this home. Making it as much a prison, as a home. I prayed I would never see this place again. This place where my nightmares began, and where they will finally end.

#  Damien

I crouch lower, as she peers at the sky. I know it's dark, and she can't see me. But, those eyes gave me a feeling like she could see into my soul. The way she looked me over at the station. She looked at me like I was a criminal. She's more beautiful than I thought she would be. Janelle Sunderland. I'm torn between hate and lust at the moment. Standing there dripping from the light rain that's falling, her wet clothes clinging to her body. I can see her curves, her bright beautiful eyes gazing at the sky. I know she sense something. I can feel it. It vibrates off of her through the air. She may be smarter than I thought. I came here expecting to find a weak, greedy woman, and a vicious man. I know the man they call father, Phillip, is a bastard, a murderer. That man killed my father, and for that, him, and his children will pay. They may be beautiful, but that can't save them.

As the front door closes to the house, I stand and backtrack to where I parked the Jeep up the road. I weave in and out of the trees. They picked a good spot to hide, but I'm good at finding things. My dreams lead me where I need to go. I climb in and sit there. Her face is all I can see. It floats in the dark above me. I've known my destiny since I was a child. Janelle will lead me there, one way or another, and I wonder how much does she know? My dream tells me that she will be the one to help me.

My family was the protector of the Scepter of Okwaho. Okwaho is wolf, in the old Mohawk language. The scepter holds all the powers of the Medicine Man and unlocks the power of wealth. Decades ago, long before my time, it was stolen. By Janelle's ancestors.

Jonathon Sunderland was trusted by the Mohawk people when the British came to the Great Carrying Place. Also know where Fort Edward is now. He was a great friend of our family. But, he betrayed their trust, and stole the scepter. In his wake, he thought he had annihilated our family's blood line, but little did he know, my ancestor had hidden her only son, who was then only an infant. Thus, ensuring the continuance of our family tree, and carrying with it a thirst for vengeance. A nearby clan had found and raised him as their own, but passing on the story, and need of revenge in securing the scepter for our family again. Every man in my clan has tried to retrieve it back from the Sunderlands, only to be murdered or fail.

I start the Jeep and turn around, heading back to where I've set up camp. Deep in the woods, on the bank of the Hudson River. I hope this rain will stop. It's the beginning of Spring, and very wet with the melting snow, the rain makes it worse. Last thing I need is to be hiking in all this mud. I don't know where her family has hidden the scepter. I already broke into the house the other day when her sister left to run errands. The place was a mess, as if someone had already torn it apart looking for something. I have an odd feeling about this whole situation. But, I must do what I must. I need to restore honor to the Hall's, my family.

I pull up the trail to my camp. I didn't realize I was already here. I don't remember the drive. I've been so deep in thought. I doubt I will sleep. I can't stop thinking of her. I know my family has taught me to hate Janelle Sunderland. But I'm not sure I'm strong enough to. Her beauty has me feeling ashamed of who I am and what I must do. As if everything I learned growing up is wrong. I know what I must do though, and I will do it. I suppose I may try to enjoy it a little. Can my lust for revenge outweigh the lust I felt in my groin for Janelle?

I crawl into my tent. I need my rest. It's going to be a crazy few days. I pull my Ruger out of my waistband as I lay down on my sleeping bag. I check to make sure it has a full mag, and slip it under my pillow. I feel like someone is watching them. I peek out of my tent, look around. There's no one here. It's silent except for the normal forest noises. I crawl back in, and lay down.

I recall the look on her face, at the station, it was like she knew I had the gun. Why did I even take it with me? What did I think I was going to do? Kidnap her right then and there? I've been watching the younger sister and her family for a few days. I wasn't there when Phillip killed his wife. I heard yelling and decided to leave. I found out the next day. I had driven by and the place was wrapped in crime scene tape. Sammy isn't the one who is destined to help me. She's not the one I dreamed of. I don't think she's strong enough. But Jany, she's here. She came home for the funeral. She's beautiful. She's the one I need. She will help me. One way or another.

When I was younger, my father trained my brother and I well. We learned to shoot guns. We learned hand to hand combat, how to throw knives, shoot arrows. We were completely trained to kill. I've learned how to walk through the woods and not make a sound. I've learned how to hear things a normal person may not. I'm in tune with nature and my surroundings. I need to come up with a plan. How am I going to approach her? Should I ask for her help or force her? I know I need to find out how much she knows first. Maybe even though she's a woman, her father could have taught her to protect it with her life. Will I have to kill her to get it?

I have my work cut out for me. Phillip Sunderland is the first in generations to not have sons. He is the weak link in their blood line. This was a sign that now was the time to act. Dreams led me here, dreams will help me succeed. I just don't know how. This is what I've been waiting for. My time has come. I think of Janelle as I drift off to sleep. I dream of her running her hands through my hair, her pouty lips brushing over mine, and for a second time, I dream of her hovering over me when I die. Sleep washes over me, consuming, and I float off, immersed in my dreams.

#  Mourning

I shoot up straight out of bed, looking around, lost, wondering where I am. It takes a few blinks to recognize that I'm in my old room. Like I said, time stands still. It looks the same as it did the day I ran. But without the clothes on the floor I left behind. Ahi must have picked up, maybe believing I would come home to her. I guess I let her down. There's a Pulp Fiction poster hanging on the back of the door that separated me from a dreary world for so many years. My shelf full of books, teenage dreams surrounding me. The walls are covered in posters of Italy, Spain, Germany, places I always told myself I would visit someday. I lie back down, not ready yet to face what lies ahead.

Back home, which now is Chicago, not here, I live well below my means. I have my inheritance I haven't touched, choosing instead to live off what I earned on the force. I've invested my money, earning a decent amount of interest on it. Maybe one of these days I'll just pack up, and leave. Again. Go somewhere that no one knows me. I dream of getting lost in an unfamiliar place, where no one thinks of me as that poor little girl with the brutal father. The drunk's daughter. I can start over, with a fresh slate. I suppose that's part of why I ran in the first place, to get away, to become unknown.

I roll over and face the window. I can see the tree tops and the mountains behind them. I think of how much I yearn to be strolling down the Tiber River, watching the Gondolas as they pass by. Sailing my own boat through the sea, up and down the coast. Holding hands with the dark stranger from last night.

I sit up again, what is going on? Why am I thinking about him? What was it about him? I know I had an uneasy feeling. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but something was wrong. He worried me. I guess it doesn't matter. Two days here, and I'm gone again. Maybe forever, unless Sam wants to work things out and come with me. As I start to climb out of bed, someone knocks on my door.  
"Come in," I say. Sammy opens the door and enters.  
"The funeral is in forty minutes, get ready." She turns and leaves, not even waiting for me to answer, slamming my door behind her. I'm left alone again. I sigh and get up. So much for the loving family reunion.

I pull the only dress I own out of my suitcase. I had gotten this little black dress when I thought I would try to date seriously. It was a soft satiny material, hung off the shoulder, and accentuated my curves in all the right places. Not very appropriate for a funeral, but it's all I had. I slip into it, not bothering to do much with my hair. It's always been long, thick and straight as a stick. I slide on my black stilettos and stand at my window. I don't know what possessed me to buy these items. They are so unlike me. I prefer jeans and t-shirts, sneakers, boots, casual clothing. I hated shopping. Seemed a waste when I didn't need anything.

Not like I ever met any guys worth dating. Most men I met were losers. Criminals, married men looking to cheat, or violent. I wonder which category that man from the station fits into. Why can't I get him out of my head? What was it about him that worries me? Besides the fact that I believe it was him following us last night. It's not like I can't handle dangerous men. Between work and my personal life, I've seen it all. I always pick the worst ones to date. I was raised seeing a man treat women like garbage. I know it's wrong, but I guess I craved the confrontations. I wanted to prove to myself I was stronger than Ahi. Unlike her, I fought back. I slip my .22 short into the small leg holster. I gaze at myself in the mirror. Old habits die hard I suppose. Back in Chicago I won't go anywhere unarmed. I smooth down the sides of my dress, unnoticeable. Good. I pick up my large black Coach purse, one of the few indulgences I allowed myself, sling it over my shoulder, and I'm ready to go.

I turn and hurry out to the Rover. I'm burying my mother today. Part of me wishes I had made her leave with me, another part wishes I had come back to see her. A tiny tiny part of me deep down, regrets leaving. She died without knowing the real me. She never got to see me as the woman I am now. I wonder, would she have been proud? Would she have approved of my life choices?

Sammy slides into the driver's seat. I climb in beside her. She's wearing a modest short sleeve black dress, the sort of marmish dress you would expect to see your grandmother in. It fell below her knee, but well above her ankles. It looked like polyester in a deep black color. The short sleeves were big poofs.  
"Sammy, you know there are other stores than Good Will, right? Ones that sell new clothes?" I try to joke with her. She just glares at me, tears pooling in her eyes.  
"Jany, I may not know a lot about the world outside here, or fashion, but this was mom's dress." With that, she faces forward, turns over the engine and pulls down the drive. We ride in silence all the way to Journey's End, the only funeral parlor in town.

As I step out of the Rover, I shudder, looking at the parlor ahead of me. This place always gave me the creeps. It was an old Victorian home that was modified to accommodate the parlor. Stone columns, knee high line the walkway to the front door. Black shuddered windows all closed to hide the horrors inside. There were large white pillars surrounding the front door, a wraparound porch, like you would see on a Southern plantation. This place never really fit in, as if trying to be southern gothic. It stuck out like a sore thumb. Sammy and I used to joke about how this place must be haunted, that the souls of everyone who entered were trapped. All the kids at school thought it was haunted. We used to laugh and say Mr. Surley the owner was a vampire. I chuckle to myself now, thinking of all the childish stories about this place. Sammy just glares at me from the driver seat.

Mr. Surley was a crooked old man. Bent at the back and knees, and anywhere else that bends. He used a cane to support himself as he moved around. Even bent over, he was taller than Sammy or I and thin as a broom. I lean over and whisper to Sam.  
"How does he still run this place? Isn't he older than dirt?"  
"He has an apprentice who does most everything for him," she says, climbing out of the Rover. "Mr. Surley," she says as she reaches out to take his arm. "Will you walk me in?"  
"My dear girls, I'm so sorry about your mother, she was beautiful til the day she passed, and will now forever remain that way." His voice is raspy and barely louder than the wind. All the years of smoking have caught up with him. I stand there, watching them walk into the building. I sit myself down on the front step. I'm not ready to face anyone yet.

The sun is warm today. I realize how much I've missed the Spring time here. Baby animals peeking out, exploring on their own, bird soaring above. We always had an eagle living in the trees around our home. One summer Sammy and I had named her Bella. I was going through my Italian phase. Everything was about Italy, wanting to go there, dreaming about living and studying there. I remember I always felt like the eagle was watching me. Like I could feel her eyes on me as I ran through the yard, walked down the driveway, even when I lie in bed at night. She was out there, watching, waiting. But for what?

That year, my mother had said," Jany why are you so interested in these places and people? You should learn about your own people.  
"Mother, I already know about your family, they abandoned you and us because they didn't like dad. What else do I need to know?"  
She had just leaned down, and kissed my forehead.  
"My Jany, your head in the clouds. There is always something more to know. One day, one day I'll tell you. Maybe when you're older and have the patience to listen and learn."  
I never got that lesson. Now, I feel so ashamed that I never took the time to listen to her. I wish I knew more about my family. I've missed out on so much since I left.

I sit basking in the sun as people start to arrive. I stand to greet them. The prodigal daughter has returned, they say. Where have you been, they ask. You should have come home long ago, they tell me. I feel more guilt piling on top of my shoulders. I haven't had much time to stop and grieve. I haven't really had a good cry yet. I can feel it rising within me. I excuse myself as they start to mingle before the service. The problem with growing up in a small community is that everyone knows you, or thinks they do. They know every little detail, and always feel they have a right to voice their opinion about how to live your life.

I walk over to the edge of the parking lot. The tree line is right past it. Staring at the ground, I think of all the memories I've missed out on. Guilt is a terrible thing. It weighs you down. I feel as if my shoulders have bags of concrete hanging from them. Suddenly, I'm pulled from my thoughts. I can feel someone watching me. I turn back to the parlor, thinking maybe Sammy is trying to get me to come inside. The porch is empty. There's no one there. I can see the front door is open, and people are socializing, laughing, and sharing stories of my mother. I turn and scan the trees. He's out there. I don't know where the thought came from. But there is was, in the forefront of my mind. I just knew. I can feel him. Why is he following us? I wrap my arms around myself and head inside. I want the comfort of familiar faces, and hoping that this dread will subside.

I walk into the parlor. There's the same shabby red rug that looks like it belongs on the floor of some white windowless van. The furniture is gaudy. Gold and red felted fabric. It's tacky to the touch. There's gold on everything. Those sitting on the chairs or settee look so misplaced. They aren't the bourgeois type that would normally harbor furniture like this. I stop and say hello to some, try to avoid questions of where I've been and what I've been doing. I have no answer to give them as to why I never came home.

Chief Niti comes over and takes my hand, leading me into the showing room where my mother is laid out.  
"You have a few minutes before we start, why don't you say your goodbye in private. And later, we will talk about the gun you're hiding under this beautiful dress you have on." He winks and adds, "I'm a cop, and I can see it a mile away."  
He turns and quietly shuts the door between us. I stand still as a statue, afraid to move. I'm alone with my thoughts again, turning to the stranger at the station. That's why, I think to myself. He's the reason for the gun. The silence in this room is deafening. I feel it moving in on me. I stare down the aisle at the casket before me. Now is not the time to worry about that man. Unsure of what to do, or what to say, I creep towards my mother. Slowly, wondering if this is all a joke, a ploy, to get me to come home.

I stand above the casket, gazing down at her. My mother, Ahi. So beautiful and intriguing even in death. Her eyes are closed, but I remember them as if I looked in them yesterday. Deep brown all-knowing eyes. Her plush lips in a soft pout. I remember the small lines around her face whenever she smiled. Her nose, small, her chin strong. I remember how her nose used to crinkle when she laughed, not that she did that often. I reach out and touch her long shiny black hair. I remember sitting on the couch with her when I was little, twisting locks of her hair around my finger.

I feel the tears again, but this time I give in. I let go of everything. I mourn the time lost between us. I cry for the fear of my father growing up. I cry for all she did to protect Sammy and me, for all she didn't do, and didn't know.  
"Damn him," I say aloud.  
"He's gone, but we will find him, and he will pay," Sammy says as she steps beside me. I was so lost in grief that I never heard her approach. Losing your touch Jany, I tell myself. She slips an arm around my shoulders and lays her head on me. "We survived this much already, I'm sure we can handle this," she says to me.  
Maybe things will get better between us I think to myself.

We stand together for a while, not paying attention to those filing into the room. Everyone takes their seats, and we sit down next to each other in the first row. Holding hands like we used to. Inseparable once again. We accept condolences of those who come to say their final goodbyes. I didn't pay attention to anything the Pastor said. How well had these people really know her? If they knew her well, then why hadn't they stepped in? Why did no one try to stop Phillip before he killed her? Why didn't anyone try to get us away?

The ceremony is over quickly. Everyone exits for their cars. Sammy and I stand on the porch and watch as Chief Niti and his men carry her casket to the awaiting hearse. I see the tears falling down my sister's face. I hold her close. She doesn't pull away. She will be buried in the same ground as our family. Her family. Our Mohawk ancestors that Sammy and I never really knew. Other than giving her a fair share of the money earned, they had turned their backs on her. They never approved of Phillip, and she chose having a family over them. We never knew them. Never got to know what it was like to be a part of the old culture. Was Phillip a good man back then? How did he fool mother into marrying him?

Sammy walks over to the Rover to follow the hearse. I walk after her, scanning the trees again. I still feel the presence of someone watching us. But right now, I need to focus on my bereavement and my only remaining family. I slide into the front seat next to her and allow myself to be driven away. I'll worry about this man later.

Gathered around a hole in the ground, knowing this is where my mother will eternally rest, everyone is somber. She was loved by so many. I never would have thought all these people would turn out to send her off. I always felt like we were alone. I look around at the melancholy faces. Tears, sadness engulf us all. I'm lost in thought again. I don't cry anymore. I've let out what I need and need to stone myself off again. I try not to show my emotions. A nasty lesson I learned when I was younger. I think how this is such a beautiful place for her final slumber. She's atop a lush green hill, right below a willow tree. I have to laugh to myself, knowing she would love this tree. The sun will shine on her every morning as it rises and every night as it sets.

I think back to when Sammy and I were young. We had a large weeping willow tree in the back yard. Phillip would disappear for a few days at a time, out on another binge. Those days were magic. It was like we had our own happy family without him. Ahi would make us a picnic lunch, and we would sit under the willow, spread out a blanket our grandmother had made her. She would read to us whatever she could find. We had so many books. Our favorite always seemed to be Call of the Wild by Jack London. I used to lie back, staring up into the tree, thinking how wonderful to have your own wolf. A protector, a warrior, a savior. I would daydream that I had my own wolf and one day it would just jump on our father and tear his throat out. Oh the dreams of our youth.

As I glance around the group gathered here, I see him. Standing to the rear of Raman. His eyes transfixed upon me. Those dark brown puddles. His strong face, stone cold look on his face. I know my eyes have registered recognition, and he sees it. He quickly turns and starts walking back to the line of cars, awaiting us all at the bottom of the hill. I rush to follow. I can feel Sammy's gaze, burning into my back. She's wondering what the hell I was doing. Well, I'm wondering the same thing. I reach down as I walk, being careful not to sink my heels into the wet earth and stumble. I can no longer see him, he seems to have disappeared. I slip my gun out of the holster and try to hide it at my side. I don't need anyone up the hill to see, and raise an alarm. I don't want to worry anyone.

As I slowly move between two large maples, I feel strong hands around my mouth and waist, pulling me from behind, so I'm hidden from view of the hill. I feel a small burn in my groin. I feel put off that I'm turned on by this. I instinctively elbow behind me, and slam my heel into the arch of his foot. He lets go, I snap around, aiming my gun at him.  
"Who the hell are you? Why are you following us? Stay put, don't move." I pat him down, finding a Ruger in his waist. Same place as last night. I was right, he was carrying a gun. I toss it on the ground next to me. "Who are you?"

#  Oblivious

"You want to give me a chance to answer your questions one at a time? Or are you going to keep firing more at me?" I say to her.  
God, she's exquisite. Her eyes, seeing her this close, it's more than I imagined. More than I dreamed of last night, or any night before. I had tossed and turned until dawn, thoughts of her dancing in my head. I know I should have waited until she was alone. This was the wrong place to approach her. But I couldn't help myself. I couldn't stay away. I had to see her. I could blow my whole plan by being here. The urge to touch her again is so great, every bit of my body aches with longing.

I quickly wrap my hand around her arm, and spin her, so her back is against me again. I twist her wrist to get the gun out of her hand. I let it fall to the ground next to mine. I have her arms crossed across her chest, and everything happened so quick she didn't know what hit her. I can feel her struggling against me. She's strong, but I'm stronger. I wasn't afraid she would shoot me, I just wanted to show her I was not going to hurt her. It's quite erotic, the way she's squirming against me. As she struggles, I feel myself getting turned on. How could I not? Her tight body wiggling against mine.  
"You need to calm down. I'm not going to hurt you here," I whisper into her ear. I let go of her, and push her away, hoping I managed it before she felt the rock hard lust growing between my legs. She instantly goes for her gun and aims it at my midsection.

"Speak," she said, with a tone of caveat. The sound of her voice sends heat spreading through my stomach. I put my hands in the air and smile. She's really sexy when she's angry.  
"My name is Damien Hall. Does that sound familiar to you?" She just stares at me, her eyes piercing me.  
"Am I supposed to know who you are? You say that like we know each other."  
"Jany, I promise I will explain everything, but not here." I hand her a piece of paper that I had written coordinates on. I'm hoping that I will be able to sneak out of here without causing a bigger scene.  
"Please, meet me here at six o'clock tonight. I will tell you all. I promise."

She takes the paper and looks at it, then looks back at me. She slowly bends down and picks up her purse that had fallen in our little struggle. Watching her, I recall how she had felt pressed up against me. She's stronger than I thought, and I'm impressed and turned on at the same time. Please, I think to myself, please, don't let her see my excitement. She tosses my gun into her purse and stands. Her .22 never losing its sight on me.  
"How do you know my name? What do you have to say that you think I want to hear?" she demands.

I stare into her eyes, and they are deep pools of green and brown. I can't look away.  
"I know your family history, that's what you want to hear. It seems you haven't been told about me." I turn to walk away. Her face was a mix of shock, and fear. I'm trying hard and fast to put some distance between us. I'm fearful that if I stay this close to her any longer, my whole plan will evaporate amidst the lust I feel growing. I'm fighting the urge to pull her in my arms again and taste her. I glance back to see her there, still facing me, gun still aimed at me.  
"How do I know I can trust you?" she yells after me.  
"You can't," I shout back. She stares down at the paper in her hand. I find my Jeep, get in and toss up gravel as my tires spin. I push the gas, trying to get away quickly.

She seemed shocked at the mention of family history. I saw no recognition in her face when I mentioned my name. As if it took every breath out of her lungs. How much does she know? Surely her father told her of the Scepter, right? Wouldn't he want to ensure the wealth and possession of it in generations to come? I saw no sign of her know who I was. Could she be oblivious, or just that good of an actor? She must know. Maybe she is just afraid, knowing what is to come. Knowing I am here to reclaim my family treasure.

The coordinates I gave her will lead her here, to my camp. There's a winding dirt trail hidden in a mass of trees and brush. Lots of cover, and no one around for miles. In case things go wrong, I should be able to handle the situation here. I'm only a few miles from their home. Hopefully she's smart enough to find it. I'm sure she will. I think about her feline reflexes. How quickly she moved to get me off of her.

I could feel a mix of hatred and curiosity pulsating off of her as she stood in front of me. She smelled of honey and jasmine, an intoxicating smell. For a brief moment I had wanted to bury my face in her hair. I had to ignore my desire to kiss her, to take that pouty mouth in mine right then. She may have pulled the trigger had I tried. It may have been worth it, just for a moment, a second, to taste her, and feel her.

As I drive the Jeep up behind my tent, I get out and look around. You can tell a man is living here. I have clothes hanging from lines, drying. Dirty dishes stacked by the fire pit. I think I should do a little housekeeping, because I'm optimistic that I will have a guest later. How can I expect her to trust me, and listen to me if she's too distracted with this mess? Wait, why am I even worried what she thinks of me? I'm here for one thing, and one thing only, to avenge my family and claim the scepter once more.

I gather my dishes and take them to the river. They need to be done anyways. May as well do them. The rushing waters of the Hudson are cool this time of year. Too cold to enjoy taking a swim, but not too cold to keep me from bathing. I'll clean up around here and then clean myself before she shows. It's a little after one. I have a few hours until she gets here. If she comes at all. I quickly scrub my dishes, and take them back to my camp to dry in the sun. I pull down all my clothes I had freshly cleaned this morning. I glance around. I guess it looks alright. I've been camped here a week already. I crawl into my tent and pull my second Ruger out from under my pillow. Jany had kept the one she pulled off of me at the cemetery. I'll get it back, she has nothing to fear from me as long as she cooperates.

I can't really see myself hurting her, but my family must come first. My mission must come first. I check the clip, it's full. I slide it back under my pillow and lay down for a moment. Several weeks ago, I had been in my apartment. It feels like a lifetime ago. My little studio place, one room and a bathroom. I lived there with the bare essentials. I work at a nearby winery, in the Southern part of New York. The Finger Lakes region they refer to it as. Big on wine, low on pay. I remember I was sleeping in, my first day off since the planting and cropping of vines began. I remember waking up in a cold sweat.

I had been dreaming, and at first, as I shook off the fog of sleep, I couldn't remember what it was about. I had lain back down, and was staring at my ceiling. Janelle. Jany. That name was floating through my mind. I kept seeing it, and then her face came to me. It was blurry, but I could make out the curve of her small nose. The strength in her face. I had rolled over, picked up my phone and dialed my mother. I remember growing up, when she told the story of my father, and his father, and his father before him, she said.  
"Damien, you will know when it's your turn. You will dream of when you are to return to our land, and reclaim your families honor." This must be it. But what did that beautiful woman in my dreams have to do with killing the man whose blood coursed with the dishonor rained down upon my family.  
"You must go then," my mother had whispered to me. I know she was trying to not let my brother hear.

I try to recall the remainder of my dream. I saw myself lying on the ground. I was covered in blood. My death. I foresaw my death. As long as I obtain the Scepter, I don't care what happens to me after that. My dream didn't say when or where. Just that it would happen. My dreams have never been wrong. Why would they be now?

My younger brother Dimitri has always had a complex with being the second child. He always fought to be better than me. Everything came to me easily in life. Sports were simple. I was good at them. School, easy breezy. I had high grades and never studied. Girls, well, they usually fell over me. I never tried to be better than him, it just happened. Dimitri is the spitting image of me, only half a foot shorter. If not for his cocky attitude, he could have had girls falling over him too. He tried to outdo me in school grades, which was great. It was competition, but with both of us winning. We both had good grades. Sports, well that was another story. He was clumsy. He tried to outdo me, but would usually end up getting hurt.

When we were younger, and my father was leaving for his attempt at getting back the scepter, he told us the story of our family. I could see it in my brothers' eyes that he wanted it to be him that would get the dreams, the calling. No one ever knew what son in the family would get it. They said the one with the purest heart. Could have been either one of us. My mother knew this. She also knew if it was him that went, he would never survive. He's always clouded by anger. Many times, after my father disappeared, she prayed to the gods, to send me, not Dimitri. I heard her say I was the only one with a chance of success.

Lately, he's seemed so angry. I don't know if it's part of growing up, if it's his destiny, or if there's just something wrong with him. Maybe he's just not happy with his life. Maybe he feels something is missing? I feel a coldness from him towards me. Have I done something wrong? Is it me he hates?

I always knew in my heart my father failed. The day it happened, I knew. No one can discern what really happened, but a week after he left home, I awoke in the middle of the night, and I felt, different. I couldn't put my finger on what it was. I had been having a nightmare. I couldn't remember anything except a lot of blood. I told my mother that next morning, and she had cried. She sobbed and sobbed. I had hugged her tight.  
"Mother, what is it? It was only a dream." To which she replied, "No Damien, it's a sign. Your father is dead. He won't be coming home. You will honor us. I know you will."

These memories are exhausting, and I had drifted off to sleep. I awake with a start. Something is moving outside the tent. Sort of a flapping sound. I hadn't realized I feel asleep. She'll be here soon and I still haven't bathed. I open the flap to my tent, and peer out, trying to see what the sound was. Right in front of me, perched on the wood I had readied for my fire tonight, was the most magnificent eagle I had ever seen. It sat there staring at me. I scratched my head in wonder. What is it doing here? Why did it not fly away, frightened when I opened the flap. I started to wiggle my way out of the tent, afraid that it would fly away at any second. Yet, it remained. I pull myself out, and stand up. The creature cocks its head, looking at me, as if saying, 'What now?' I take a step closer.

It spreads its massive wings and takes flight. I stand staring at it, watching as it floats off into the darkening sky. My ancestor. The eagle has always been with our family. Since my great ancestors. To lead us, warn us, protect us. It was a sign. She will show up. Things will work out. I'm sure I will succeed. I watched it until it was completely out of sight. I snap out of my trance, it's getting late. Jany will be here any minute. I need to clean up. I gather my bathing items and walk down to the river. The cold water will surely set me straight. I'm hoping to wash away all impure thoughts of her. We need to get down to business. The water is freezing as I walk into it. But I start to warm to it as I wash.

#  History or New Beginning

I push myself up off the couch. As we had left the burial grounds, Sammy had asked what happened. I figured it was time to come clean with her, hoping it's good for our relationship.  
"You left in the middle of the prayer Jany. I was embarrassed."  
"Tell everyone I was so overcome with grief that I had to step away," I told her.  
No one would question that. But, she had known something was going on. And so did Niti. I had seen the look he gave me, even though he said nothing.  
"Are you going to fill me in? Or will we continue keeping secrets Jany? You used to tell me everything," she pleads. When we had returned to the house, I sat her down and explained all that I knew. My creeping suspicions of the man at the station, the feeling I got when I saw the Jeep last night following us, and that he was there today. I tell her everything I know. Now she's trying to keep me from going.

"We can call Niti, he will help us. He can pick this man up and find out what's going on," she pleads.  
I walk over to where her laptop sits on the table, open it and pull up a mapping program. I enter the coordinates.  
"I'm a cop Sammy. I can handle this on my own. There's no need to involve anyone else. It's bad enough that I told you. Look, this is where I'll be. It's off 197," I say, pointing to the computer screen. "If I'm not back by morning, you will know where to send Niti. I have to do this. I need to know what he meant by our family history."  
"Then I'm going with you. That's in the middle of the woods. There's no way you can escape without getting lost if he turns out to be a psycho," she says.

"No, I can take care of myself. I can't do that if I have to worry about you too. Remember that time Johnny Ferth was bullying you in the 3rd grade? He used to poke you with a stick and call you a mutt? You wanted me to beat him up for you. You followed me, and when I was trying to beat him up, his friends circled you and were picking on you. Johnny broke my nose because I was distracted with worrying about you. I promise I'll tell you everything when I get back. Everything. And I promise I'll be fine. I've handled bigger guys than this one."  
I pull her tight to me, and hug her. "I've missed you more than I knew. I'm sorry I didn't come back for you. I'll be back soon though. I promise." I walk out the door before she has a chance to respond.

As I drive, I mentally inventory what I have. My .22 full. 15 rounds. 17 in the Ruger I took from Damien. I checked it when I was alone earlier. I have a two inch buck knife folded up in my back pocket. I had changed from my dress, into a pair of straight leg jeans, and black hiking boots, in case I needed to run. I had on a black t-shirt, in case I need to blend into the darkness. My long hair is pulled back into a messy bun, to keep it out of my eyes. I feel prepared, but I don't know what to expect. I'll make sure I bring all these weapons with me, I may need them.

My cell phone on the seat next to me rings. Not many people have this number. Looking at the caller id, I recognize Niti's number. I ignore it and let it go to voicemail. He's going to have questions, like why I needed a gun at my mother's funeral. I can't answer him until I have these answers myself. I hear the beep signaling voicemail. I dial and listen.  
"Jany, you need to call me. We have to talk about this. Why are you packing? Sammy told me you're a cop. But why the need to have it today? I know you're ignoring my call. Even after ten years, I still know you well enough to know when you're in trouble. Who is this man you were with? Call me back, NOW. The number hasn't changed."  
I disconnect. Niti, Niti. I think about calling and telling him, but I don't want more people involved until I know what really is going on. No need, he's calling again. I ignore the call a second time. I wouldn't even know how to begin explaining to him what's going on. I don't even know yet. I need answers first and there's only one way to get them.

The sun is starting to set. I'm only a few minutes away. I'm feeling antsy. It's a mixture of excitement. I want to see him again. I'm curious about what he has to say. I'm also scared. I don't know what he can do, what he's capable of. I'm also confused. I know I should really be afraid of this man. I know nothing of him, yet I feel I can trust him enough to meet him in the middle of the woods alone, at night.  
"Jany, what the hell are you thinking?" I yell at myself, slapping the steering wheel. This man is sexy, and strong. I felt his muscles beneath his shirt earlier as he had grasped my waist and pulled me into him. I know he had been excited too. I could feel his rock hard groin poking into me.

I glance over at the GPS in the window. It shows I should turn up here, but I see nothing. It's all trees. Thick with conifers. I turn my headlights on in the waning sun light. The tree cover is so thick, that even with the sun not fully set, it's black as night on the road. There, a small opening. Enough to fit the truck through it. I turn, and bounce down a half mile of bumpy, turning path. It's muddy and I worry about the Rover getting stuck. Just what I need. To be stranded out here.

As the trees start to clear, I see the Jeep Damien had flown off in earlier. It's parked behind a tent. It definitely is the Jeep I saw following us from the station. He's living here? I turn off the Rover, scanning the camp sight. There's rope tied between two trees. Two lawn chairs set out near the fire pit. A stack of wood. I start wondering if someone is staying here with him. I feel a small twinge of jealousy. I mean, who wouldn't? The man is gorgeous. There's a food bag hanging from high in the tree next to the tent. I see nothing else. No movement. There's no way to keep quiet while driving down that path. He must have heard me. Is this a trap?

I put the Ruger in my waist of my jeans, and check to make sure my .22 and knife are still there. I quietly get out of the Jeep. I start to look around. There's no movement in the camp site. There's no one here. I stand still, trying to listen. One of the great skills I learned while growing up with a monster. There, there it is, movement down by the water. I hear the Hudson rushing, which is a normal sound around here, but I can also hear the splashes. I step silently down to the bank.

I peer through the opening in the trees, and tiptoe down the slope. Damien is in the water. Did he forget I was coming? Or is he teasing me? I'm a little early, I was anxious to get here, but, there's no way he could have just forgot. I suppose, if he doesn't realize I'm here, then I have an element of surprise. He's in the water, up to his hips, bathing, and singing! I giggle to myself. I lean up against the nearest tree, cross my arms and watch. I can't look away. I'm intrigued. He is taller than me by almost a foot, if I recall correctly, even with stilettos on earlier. His dark waving hair is soaked and slicked back. It falls over his forehead and in his eyes. It stops short of his shoulders.

I can imagine running my hand through it. I can see myself getting a thick handful, grabbing it, pulling, as he kisses my neck. I shake my head, I have to stop this. I get a full glimpse of his face in the setting sun. His skin is a dark tan like mine, strong high cheeks, he must be native as well, if not Mohawk just like us. I watch closely as his rough manly hands rinse his body. I watch as his long fingers glide over her chest, his abs, and down. His body looks like it's been chiseled out of stone. Perfect lines, perfect curves.

I feel something. Something I don't think I've ever really felt with a man before. Desire. I could feel the definition in his body when I patted him down earlier, but I didn't know it would look this good.  
"Forget your lust, for the rich man's gold, all that you need, is in your soul," he sings. Skynard? Really? Now, this really may be a man after my heart. I've never been into modern music. Always a lover of classics. How can I be so turned on by him, yet so wary, nervous? He could be getting ready to kill me for all I know.

He continues singing as he walks out of the water, still not noticing me. I do have to say, all of him is as equally molded as his torso. Well endowed, but I had known that earlier when I felt it pressed against my ass. I giggle a little to myself, thinking of how he had sighed in my ear as I struggled against him. I feel my cheeks warm as I blush. His long legs look very strong, and muscular. I can see myself wrapped around them. He picks up a towel from a log near the water and begins to dry off. I start clapping and take a step forward, pushing off the tree.

"What do you plan to sing for the encore? Saturday Night Special? Oh, that's right, you can't because I have your gun," I joke.  
He looks up, for a moment, there's a look of bewilderment in his eyes, and then he laughs. He drops the towel, and I feel my mouth go dry. He walks defiantly towards me.  
"Oooh ooh that smell, can't you smell that smell," he sings. More Skynard! My breath catches. He steps up to me, pressing his wet body against me, and leans in. I take a step back, but can't go far; I'm up against the tree. I can't breathe. I realize I'm holding my breath. I can feel the heat radiating off his body. I know the water is cold this time of year, but he's heating up.

I look up, into his eyes, and he smiles. His whole face warms and I let my breath out. He leans in and I gasp. What is he doing? His strong hand comes up and grabs my head, pulling it into his face. He takes a long whiff off my neck, and then backs up, dropping his hand from me. My heart is pounding and I feel light headed. He turns and heads back to his towel and continues singing.  
"Can't you smell that smell?"  
What is it about him? I should be guarded, and instead I have dirty thoughts racing through my mind. Images of his hands roaming my body. He wraps his towel around his waist, bending to pick up his clothes and items. The towel rests just on his hips, leaving the muscles there to point and guide my eyes lower. His chest, smooth, and bare. I think about running my tongue down it. He turns back to me, his adolescent grin still gracing his face.  
"You're early. Guess I won't have to worry about doing an encore, you caught the main act. Come on, I should get dressed, unless," he pauses.  
I roll my eyes at him and follow him, as he laughs, back to his camp.

I'm starting to second guess myself. Why did I even bother coming here? Is this what he wanted? Lure me with stories of my family, but have other ideas of what to do?  
"Make yourself at home," Damien says, pointing at the lawn chairs by the fire. "I'm going to get put some clothes on. I wouldn't want to distract you from why you're really here." His voice is deep, but playful. He winks and disappears into his tent. I just stare after him. Part of me wishes he didn't have to get dressed. I've never been this turned on by a man before. Earlier today he was so stern and serious. Now, ugh. Now, he's like a horny teenager, flirting with me. I take this time to glance at my surroundings. I need to get my settings down, and be prepared for anything.

The creeping sensation I had earlier at the parlor returns. I feel like I'm being watched. I don't see anyone, but wonder if he's here alone. I hear rustling, and look over at the tent. He's getting dressed. The flap is closed, so it's not him. I can't shake this feeling. Something is not right, and things are probably about to go horribly wrong. I'm usually right when I get these feelings.

#  Family Secrets

I hurry and pull my legs into my jeans, and throw on the nearest t-shirt. That was really hot, her watching me bathe. I don't know what enticed me to smell her, but oh, I loved it. I want to bury my face in her hair. That jasmine smell is intoxicating. I stop for a second, maybe I should put on a different shirt, is it weird that we are both going to be wearing black t-shirts? Why am I even worrying about that? I feel like a kid, nervous about his first date. I rip it off, and pull on a green one. It's tight. I know the definition of my muscles will be nice. I can't wait to see her eyes light up again. They looked so full of life.

As I get ready to leave the tent, the hair on the back of my neck stands. I thought I heard movement, but from behind the tent, not in front. I know Jany went to sit by the fire. I haven't heard her move. I've been feeling like someone is watching me. In the back of my mind, I wonder if Dimitri found out what is happening. But, my mother assured me she wouldn't tell him.

I slide my feet into my combat boots without taking the time for socks, or to even lace them up. I pull my remaining Ruger out from under the pillow, and slip it into my waist. You never know. It may be Jany giving me this feeling, or it could be something else. I'll have to stay alert. I know I have been raised to hate this woman, but she's sexy. The look of shock in her eyes when I had leaned into her, and the heat that fired up in her body when I touched her. I want more. I want to feel the curves I could see. Her tight black shirt would look great on the floor of my tent. I let out a long sigh. It's time to get serious. Maybe I'll let myself have some fun with her when this is over. I'm ready for business.

I peek out of the tent. In the fading sun, I stare at her. She's looking around, as if planning some tactical escape. She turns and sees me. Her eyes, again, slicing through me, seeing into me. I see her mouth open, slightly, and it's sexy as hell. I smile, and she shifts in her seat uncomfortably. Well well Ms. Sunderland. I do believe I make her uncomfortable. I step out of the tent, grabbing a hoodie on my way out. I toss it over to her.  
"Here, it gets chilly out here at night. I'm going to build a fire, but you may need that."  
She sets the sweater down on the back of the chair.  
"Thanks for the chivalry. But I grew up out here. I know the weather pretty well. I doubt it will slip below 50 tonight. I don't need your clothes."  
I drop to my knees in front of the fire pit, and start a fire.  
"Have it your way," I laugh at her, and watch as her bright eyes turn dark.

As the flames start climbing their way up the logs I piled on, I pull up the second chair I had set out. I look over at her. The light from the flames dancing in her eyes. She's hard to read. I can't tell if she's scared, or if I should be. She's staring me down again. I can tell she's impatient. She just wants to know what's going on, why she's here. She wants the answers to all the questions she asked me earlier.

I have no clue how to start. I've never had to discuss this with anyone outside my family. I feel a little intimidated by her beauty.  
"So what's this all about?" she asks me, breaking the silence.  
"Our family history," I reply. I lean back, just watching her reaction.  
"Our?" she questions me. I'm starting to feel a little impatient. I can't believe she knows nothing.

Phillip had to have told her.  
"Do you know who Jonathon Sunderland is?" I ask her.  
"Yes, he was the first one in my fathers' family to settle here. Why? What does he have to do with you?"  
"He was just a young man, fresh to the new world from Britain at the time he met my family. He came with the soldiers as they set up their base camp here. He was one of the few soldiers that our clan had come to know, and trust."  
I pause, gauging her reaction. She stares at me intently. Waiting for me to continue.  
"He became friends with Tamer of Eagles. This is my ancestor. My family was entrusted to protect a scepter. An item of massive power."  
She's just staring at me. Her face blank. No recognition to what I'm telling her. She really doesn't know?

"It was the Scepter of Okwaho. Meaning Scepter of the Wolf. It has great power to bring wealth and prosperity to the people who hold it. Our people, the Mohawk people, trusted my family. Knew Tamer of Eagles was pure of heart and had not a greedy bone in him."  
"Powers? This is ridiculous. I don't believe in magic powers Damien. Get to it. What does this have to do with me? If I wanted a bedtime story, I could read one myself."  
I roll my eyes at her.  
"Do you want to tell the story? Or may I continue?" I ask her.  
She waves her hand at me, telling me to go on. Her hands are small, and very lady like. I'd love to hold them.

"As my family grew close with Jonathon, they also grew to trust him. They wanted to share our world with him. Tamer of Eagles thought he may be trustworthy enough to share with him the Scepter. The moment it touched Jonathon's' hands, Tamer knew, he was wrong. Jonathon tried to leave with it. He saw the riches he could amass if he had this treasured scepter."  
I pause, and pull a bottle of water out of the cooler next to me. I pull one up, indicating to her, she nods, so I toss it to her. I take a sip, my eyes never leaving her face. I stare, as her pouty lips circle around the mouth of the bottle. In that instant I want to kiss them, I want to taste her. She puts the bottle in the cup holder of the chair.  
"Continue please," she whispers.

"Knowing that Tamer and his tribe wouldn't stop until getting the Scepter back, he decided to end our blood line. He used his fire stick. No one had seen one of those up close before."  
She giggles, interrupting me. It's such a lovely sound from her lips, and slightly infectious. I laugh with her.  
"Yes, Jany, I said fire stick. Now get serious," I say sternly. I stop laughing, and so does she. The seriousness returning to her eyes. She nods at me.  
"I'm telling you this, the way it was told to me when I was a child. Anyways, Jonathon tried to kill my entire family. It was a blood bath. Children, men, women, anyone in our camp. Shy like Mouse was the wife of Tamer. Jonathon was unaware that when she saw Tamer hand the Scepter over, she knew what would happen. She had foreseen it, and chosen to hide her infant son in a basket with blankets. It was a few days before anyone found him."

"The local Medicine Man raised his as his own, but made sure he knew the story of his path to be taken in life. This story has been told to every generation of man in my family tree. Over the years, men have been sent to salvage it, and failed. Being killed by a man in your family."  
I stop, and watch her reaction. She sits there, looking thoughtfully into the fire beside us. I'm trying to gauge her reaction. Surely she had to have known something.  
"You're trying to tell me that my family is a line of murderers? I guess that makes some of Phillips stories sound more reasonable. But, why are you telling me all of this? What does it have to do with me?" she asks.  
"Twelve years ago, I had a dream, full of blood and darkness. I saw my father lying on the ground, in a clearing, in the woods. Dead. Your father must have killed him. Now it's my turn to try."

"I will honor my family, and you will help me."  
"Help you?" She yells at me, standing. I just calmly stay seated. I can see she's trying to work this through. I left out my dream of her and me. I guess I don't want to really freak her out. But I know she will have something to do with my death. I hope by keeping her close to me, I may prevent her from killing me.

"You're telling me, this is some ancient blood feud? How do you know who I am? My name? I've never seen any Scepter thing, and I don't know where Phillip is. He took off after killing my mother. And, you're telling me he killed your father? How do you know?"  
She's standing over me, yelling. I can tell she's hurt and angry, but not at me.  
"Which question would you like me to answer first?" I ask her.

"It may seem like some ancient feud to you, but I grew up knowing this is my path. My dream led me to you, you must have known about this, or know where it is," I plead.  
"My father was a drunk, and abusive. My life was hell. We never had little family chats. I know nothing of any of my ancestors, other than my mother's family disowning her because of my father. I hope I never see him again, or I'll kill him before he can be put in jail."  
She jumps up, stands over me, her eyes burning with rage. She's sexy when she's mad too. My excitement returns to my stomach.

She storms off towards the Rover she drove here in. I sprang up after her. Grabbing her arm, I spin her around, slamming her back against her truck. Too shocked to stop me, she stares, stunned. I need to taste that mouth, but I also can't let her go. She has to help me.  
"If you don't know anything about this, then you can help me. Help me find him Jany. Help me find this Scepter to avoid any more bloodshed. You can get your revenge and I can get mine."  
I know I'm shouting at her. I'm not trying to scare her, but maybe she needs to be scared. "If you don't want to help me voluntarily then I will make you help me."

I feel her shudder, and I see tears in her eyes. I have my body pressed against her, pushing her into the truck. She struggles a little against me, but I have her arms pinned to the truck. She has nowhere to go. I can see her internal struggle, it shines in her eyes. I feel like a beast. What am I doing? She obviously knows nothing, and I don't think I can bring myself to use force. Would I be able to pull my gun on her? It seems cruel. Her mother has just died at her father's hands.

I feel selfish. But I have to do this. No matter what or who gets in my way. Still holding her, I push into her harder, and I know she can feel my excitement. Her smell, that jasmine smell invades my sinus. Her breath catches, her lips part, and her eyes get wide. I'm filled with heat, and act on it. I crush my lips onto hers. Her mouth is warm and soft. Moist lips, ready for the taking. I kiss her like I'm starving and she tastes better than I could have imagined. I want to devour her that instant. I think of her touching me, everywhere. I feel her battling with herself. Finally she gives in and kisses me back. I release her arms, and she wraps them around me. I reach down and grab that round, firm ass that was grinding against me earlier. It's soft and feels great in my hands.

I pull away. Something is nagging at the back of my mind, and I can't think straight when she's touching me. I stop and stare at her. I don't want to let go. Suddenly my surroundings fade back into the now. Then I hear it, the branches snapping, twigs and leaves moving underfoot, I must have been hearing it the whole time, but I was consumed with the taste of her. I had gotten blinded by her.

I quickly shove her to the ground as hard as I can while spinning. I keep my arm on her, holding her down, and crouch, whipping out my gun. I aim towards the noise just as a gunshot rings out into the night. The bullet smashed through the window right above us. Right where we had just been standing. The sun had gone down while we were talking. It's pitch black out other than my campfire. I can tell where the shot came from by the sound, but I can see nothing. Then another shot. This one hits much closer to my head. This bullet slices through the back door of the Rover.

I pull Jany up, and drag her around to the back of the Rover. We sit side by side, behind the tires, out of the fire light.  
"You set me up? Ask me out here, tell me a little story?" She accuses me as she tries to push me away from her. I grab her and push her back down to the ground. My main concern is keeping her safe.  
"Keep your mouth shut," I demand.

"Damien, I don't want to kill you brother," I hear Dimitri shout. "I knew you would fail brother. I see you here, spilling our secrets to the enemy. Telling her everything. Kissing her. You're weak brother. I always knew you weren't good enough for this path. I'm the one who should have had the dream. I am the better man. Now send her out and stay out of my way. I won't be responsible for what will happen if you don't."  
"I didn't set you up. I didn't even I know he was here," I hiss at her. I know I'm not calming her down, but I'm fighting to stay calm myself.

My heart stops pounding and I can't breathe. My own brother? How could he do this to me? Is he that blinded by his jealousy and hatred of me?  
"Where are your keys?" I whisper to her.  
She seems to understand that this was as unexpected for me as her. She must see the hurt in my eyes. I'm not very good at hiding my real feelings. She suddenly seems to pull herself together. She braces herself for action. Ready to spring up on go. She fumbles, trying to pull them out of her jeans pocket, and getting her gun at the same time. My gun. My eyes widen.  
"We can discuss this later, let's get out of here alive first," she says to me.

The keys fall to the ground. I scoop them up, drag her around the truck. I open the door, and push her in.  
"Keep your head down and keep that safety on," I instruct.  
I quietly shut the door behind her. I don't know where Dimitri is. I can't hear anything over my pounding heart now that it's started beating again. I can hear my blood coursing through my veins.

Betrayed by my own brother, my own flesh. I can hardly believe it. But I guess I should have seen it coming eventually. I was right about thinking something was wrong. Something evil. It must have been him I sensed, not her. I slide into the front seat and turn the engine over before closing my door. As I slam it into reverse, I see Dimitri, emerging from the tree line behind where we were sitting. He's caught in our head lights. Dressed in full camo, he even painted his face. I can see the rage in his eyes. I wonder how much he heard.

I push on the gas hoping we can get out of here alive. How did he find me? We fly backwards as another bullet flies through the windshield, spraying glass all over me. It missed me by a mere inch. The bullet is lodged into the passenger seat. I do my best to stay on the path. Turning with the curves. Over my shoulder I can see Jany peeking up at me. She silently stares, her eyes scanning the glass on my shoulder, the cut in the seat where the bullet passed through. I can tell her brain is working furiously to comprehend all that has transpired. At the road I sharply turn so we are facing the direction I know Jany lives in. The only thing I can think of is to get her home where it's safer for the moment.

Without knowing how long Dimitri has been following me I can only pray he doesn't know where their house is yet. We race through the night, and I continue to look up behind us, then down at her, to make sure Jany is alright. I can tell she's scared, but she's handling it well. What hells has this woman gone through that she's not screaming and crying while being shot at?

#  Honor

#  
I feel the chill of the wind whipping my face as I stare out of the broken windshield. What just happened? I'm not sure I believe anything I just heard. Phillip has murdered before? My whole family is killers and thieves? And what was that kiss? I didn't want it. But I couldn't stop it. I still feel the warmth of his mouth on my lips. The hunger. I felt the same hunger growing in me, and it scared me.  
"Are you ok?" he asks. I look up and realize I've had my fingers on my lips.  
"Am I ok? I've just been shot at, by someone I don't know. Over something I'm just finding out about. This is crazy. What the hell is happening?"

"Dimitri has always tried to compete with me, but I never thought this would go that far. He's always tried to best me at everything. I know he wanted to be the one to come honor our family, and avenge our families honor. But it was me. I'm the one here. He must have followed me. I'm sorry Jany, the last thing I ever wanted was for you to get hurt."

"So I come home for my mother's funeral and you show up out of nowhere. Follow me. Tell me the craziest story. Almost get me killed. Ruin my sisters Rover and expect me to help you? I don't care about your little baffle with baby brother." I don't mean to yell at him, but I'm scared. I don't know what is going on. I don't know what to believe.  
"Jany, you're my only hope now of succeeding. And since I drug you into this I now vow to keep you safe," he proclaims.  
"You don't need to worry about me," I tell him, "I can handle my own." I turn back to the lack of window beside me. I need the cold air to cool down my temper.

"You never told me what this Scepter looks like," I say to him. I know I've startled him. I try to steady my voice so I don't sound too angry. Right now, talking is better than driving in silence. I need to stay calm. So many thoughts running through my head. Sammy's safety. My safety. Finding Phillip, killing him for bringing this all down on us.  
"It's about a foot long. Tall, slender, basically like a cylinder. It's made of gold. There's a wolf face carved into it that wraps all around the tube. A top screws off, and inside, are the sands of wealth. It's said that if you sprinkle a little of that sand onto hallowed ground, you will amass great wealth and power. That's why people who are greedy want it, and will kill to keep it."

I try to picture this in my head. I remember seeing something like that in my father's office once. Sammy and I were never allowed in there. But there was a time, he had been gone on a bender. Sammy dared me to go in there. I remember, he had a large oak desk. The kind you picture a man of great power sitting behind it, not a drunk. There had been papers strewn all over. There was a worn maroon leather couch. I know he would sleep on it at times, not wanting to walk up the stairs to his room. Usually because he was too drunk.

I remember the most impressive part of that room was the bookshelf. Rows upon rows of books. I had never seen my father read anything. I didn't even know we had all of these books. They all looked old, and were probably worth something. I had walked over to the shelves and between the Art of War and War and Peace I had found the most beautiful trinket ever. I had thought what strange books for a man who was so shallow.

The trinket had a strong and powerful looking wolf etched onto it. I felt a great urge to reach out and touch it. But right before my fingers found it, I had heard his truck pull in the driveway. Fearing a beating, or worse, I had turned and ran. That was the only time I had ever seen it and the only time I had ever dared enter that room.

As we pull up to the front of the nightmare house, I see Sammy flinging open the front door. She must have had the perimeter alarm on, and known we were coming.  
"What the hell happened to my truck? Why is he driving? What's going on? Why do you both have guns?" she yells at us. I look down and realize I still have the Ruger in my hand. My knuckles are white from holding it so tightly. I slip it back into my waistband. I glance over at Damien.  
"She's just like you huh? Impatient. Doesn't even give you a chance to answer," Damien tries to joke, "By the way, can I have my gun back please?"

"No," I reply. "I'm not sure I can trust you yet. If given a chance, I'll take that one too." I lead them into the house. I see him tucking his last gun into his pants.  
"Stay here." I instruct him, pointing to the couch. "Sammy, you know how to use this?" I ask her, handing her my .22. She looks at me, and looks at Damien.  
"Yes, mom taught us both, but what is that for?"  
"Just keep an eye on him. If he moves, scares you, gets out of line, shoot him in the knee. I need to shower." I turn and head upstairs. I need to sort this through.

The cold water in my shower feels great. I'm shivering, but I don't know if it's the water, or if it's everything going on. This whole night has been intense. I guess his story makes sense, a little bit. But where do I fit in? I was never told anything by Phillip, and I sure as hell don't know where this thing is. We never knew where all our money came from. It was just there. And, can I even trust him? This man seems to have guns everywhere. His brother did just try to shoot us.  
"Jany, you idiot. He just saved your life against his brother. He picked you." I chastise myself.

I think I'm trying to convince myself or if I feel it will be true by saying it aloud. Although, I wouldn't have been in that predicament if he hadn't coaxed me out there. Of course he made it worse by kissing me. I think of his lips on mine. They were amazing. Soft, hungry, and oh the taste. It was amazing. I want more. I want his hands on me. Grabbing me, feeling me. I want to feel those chiseled muscles on me, holding me. I turn off the water and wrap a towel around myself. I look in the mirror. I see my mother looking back at me. How alike Sammy and I are in comparison to Ahi.  
"Mother, what do I do? I know you would say follow my heart. My heart says trust him. But my training, my instincts as a cop, hunter, woman, is all telling me to run, run away and fast."  
I slide down to the floor, leaning against the wall. I have so much to deal with, and my mother isn't here. She will never be able to answer these questions for me. Not now, not ever.

The tears that flowed from my eyes, finally dry up. I gather myself and go to get dressed. I slide into a clean pair of jeans, and a fresh t-shirt. I head over into my parent's room. This and the office were off limits. I feel like a trespasser. I don't think I remember ever really being in here. It's a nice room. Quite, rustic. A wooden bed frame, wood furniture, a small TV. I don't know what I'm doing in here. If I'm searching for the Scepter or clues as to where Phillip is. I stand in front of a small dresser next to the bed. I pick up the pendent that's laying there. It's a silver chain, and new moon necklace. My mother used to wear this every day. I used to sit in her lap, and touch it. It was always shiny and beautiful, just like her.

I wonder why Phillip drank so much. I sit on their bed, still holding the necklace. Did he drink to forget everything his family did, that he did? Did he drink to forget the monster he was? None of us deserved this. Any of this. I clasp the necklace onto my neck, get up and decide I'll check his office. Who knows? I may find something useful. I haven't been back in this room since all those years ago.

As I walk in there, it looks the same, and somehow, the same fear from when I was younger, the same worry about being caught crept back into my mind. I know Phillip had a hunting cabin he would disappear to at times. There has to be something here with the address or coordinates or something. Where to start looking. I know he didn't have many friends. He drank with a few guys at the bar, but no one he ever called a friend. Would someone hide him, knowing what has happened with Ahi? The man had a lot of money at his disposal. I'm sure if it came down to it, he could buy his freedom.

I start opening drawers, and searching through files. Finally I see it. A land deed. He does have a cabin, it's up in Fort Ann. I take the paper, and head back to the living room. Damien is still sitting on the couch. Sammy is on the other side of the room, staring into the unlit fireplace. The gun lay on the mantle next to her. Damien stands as I enter the room.

"I found the cabin. I can look up coordinates on the computer. Maybe he's there. Sammy, what's wrong?" She continues staring into the fire.  
"Are you really falling for this crap?" she asks.  
I look at Damien, then back at her. What is she talking about? Did he tell her?  
"I told her what I told you, and what happened to us," he says.  
Well that explains her attitude. I don't want her involved in this. It's going to be dangerous.

I sit down next to Damien, holding Sammy's laptop. I search the cabins address in the map program.  
"Sammy, I don't want you involved in this. It's dangerous. I have the deed to his cabin. It looks like it's up Route Four, near Fort Ann. Damien, I don't think it's going to be safe enough to go back for your things. We can go into town in the morning and get what you need. You can stay in the guest room tonight. You and I will head out in the morning and find Phillip. He has all the answers we need right now. Sammy, you're going to stay with Niti til this is over. I need to know you're safe."  
"I'm not a child, Jany," she yells, turning towards me.  
"I never said you were Sammy. But I do believe him, and I need to do this."

"I've been through this whole house in the last two days. I've never seen anything like what he described. I want to go with you Jany. Please, stop cutting me out of your life. You left me behind once, now you want to do it again?" She's pouting. This is why I don't think she can handle it.  
It's going to be dangerous and fast paced. I sit, trying to think how to turn her down, when we hear a knock on the door. We all look at each other. Damien looks scared. I'm sure he thinks it's his brother.  
"If it was Dimitri, I doubt he'd be knocking," I say to him.  
"Don't answer it," Sammy pleads with me. Then a familiar voice comes through the door.  
"I know you're in there Janelle, come let me in," Niti yells.

I wonder if he's here about the gun shots or about me ignoring his calls. Sometimes, the fact that he knows me better than I know myself is hard, because I can't hide things from him.  
"It's ok," I tell Damien, "We can trust him."  
I go and let him in. Niti steps into the living room, and looks at Sammy, then to Damien. I can tell he's trying to assess the situation quickly.  
"Evening Niti, we were just talking about you, come in, have some tea?" I try to plaster a smile on my face as I say this, knowing all too well he sees right through it.

"Jany, don't play with me." His eyes never leaving Damien. "You can't ignore me now. What the hell were you doing with a gun? What happened to Sammy's truck? And who," pointing at Damien, who shifts nervously in his seat, "is this?"  
Niti's voice gets louder with each question. I can tell he's angry, but it's from a place of love, not anger. I can deal with this.

Laughter erupts in the room. All of our eyes fall to Damien.  
"Wow," he says, through bursts of chuckles, "I guess you're all like this huh? Ask a laundry list of questions, and then expect all the answers at the same time?"  
When he sees the look Niti is giving him, his face turns somber, and he tries to sink into the couch and disappear.  
"Niti, please, come sit down. This is Damien. He's, um, a friend. Damien, this is Chief Niteesh. He's the Chief of Police here," I try to politely make the introductions. Both men stand stiffly in front of each other. After a moment, they shake hands and mumble "Nice to meet you". I can see both are worried.

"Jany, can we talk in private?" Niti asks me.  
"Chief, it's ok, we can talk here, in front of them. I'm on the CPD. I suppose it's a force of habit to always carry my gun. I'm sorry, I just didn't think when I took it with me. And, Sammy's window, well that was an accident. I sort of-"  
"No more lies Jany," he cuts me off. I should know better than to try and lie to him.  
I smile at him. Time to come clean.  
"Jany, I have reports of gunfire down 197. I couldn't find shit when I drove through the area, the Rover is shot the hell up. Stop lying, what is happening? Let me help you." I sigh. Considering we have a psycho after us, I need him.

I know he can help us. But I'm afraid to put more people at risk than already is. I don't know what will happen after we find Phillip, I need him. Maybe he can smooth the way with the Fort Ann PD for me.  
"Damien, I know you've told the story twice now, but can you fill Niti in on everything? We can trust him, and we need his help. Sammy, come with me."  
She follows me to the stairs as I hear Damien begin to tell Niti what has happened and why. I hope he can handle this, because now he's involved. I lead Sammy to her bedroom.

"I need you to stay with Niti. I need you to work any leads you can figure out with him. Look through his office, see if I missed anything. Find out if he has any friends. I'll have cell service no matter what. Call me with anything you find. I can't be crawling around in the woods worrying you're going to be shot. You were never comfortable with the guns when mom taught us. That was always my thing. I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but please, do this for me. Let me find Phillip and handle this."  
I'm hoping that pleading with her and assigning tasks will get her to stay.  
"Fine, I understand. I'm better with computers then Niti anyways. He can't even open his email. Maybe I can teach him something." She's pouting, and I know she doesn't like being left behind again.

I help Sammy pack a night bag. I'm not sure how quickly we will be able to find Phillip, so we put two days' worth of clothes in there for her. I head over to my room, and pack my duffle as well. I toss in some dark jeans, t-shirts, a sweatshirt and set my boots aside to wear tomorrow. I add some bug spray, bathing items and a towel. I may be heading to the woods, but with a man, a very sexy, dangerous man. I may want to smell nice. Just because you're in the woods, it's no excuse to smell bad.

I bring Sammy's bag downstairs for her, and can tell Damien has finished. Both men are sitting on the couch staring at each other. I can feel the tension in the air, hanging thick over both of them. I set her bag at the end of the couch and sit between them. Niti glances at me.  
"Kid, you got yourself in a mess this time. What do you need from me?"  
"I don't know where his brother is. Sammy has a bag there. I need her to stay with you until I get back from Fort Ann. Let her help you with some computer background searches. On Phillip, and Dimitri. Also, please call Fort Ann, just let them know about the APB on Phillip and let them know you're sending some scouts to look for him. Please tell them, nicely, to stay the hell out of our way. I don't need to be stumbling over some small town cop. No offense."  
His eyes widen at my comment. He nods his head and looks up at Sammy as she enters the room.

"You plan on bringing him back for arrest Jany?" he asks me.  
"Sure," I say, but we both know that because I can't look him in the eyes that I mean no. I hear him sigh as he stands. Grabbing the bag, he starts for the door. Sammy stands there looking at me. There's something, anger, fear, something in her eyes, it makes me uneasy. I stand and give her a hug. Her body rigid, tense. I wonder if she still hates me for leaving or if she's mad that I'm leaving her behind again. But it's for her own good. She'll get over it.

We all follow Niti outside. He throws her bag into the back of his Blazer. I watch as she slips into the passenger seat.  
"Sammy, I'm sorry. Sorry for leaving you. Sorry for this mess I seem to have gotten us into. I'm sorry life never turns out the way you dream it to be when you're young. I promise when this is over, things will change. If you will let me, we can be close again. Be careful. Be safe. And please know, I never stopped caring about you."  
She just stares at me. For the first time in our lives, I can't tell what she's thinking. I see tears in her eyes. Maybe I'm breaking through her wall.  
"I'll call you if we find something." She pulls the door shut and doesn't look back over to me.

I stand at the front of the truck, Niti comes and kisses me on the forehead.  
"She's with me, I'll keep her safe, and you know that." I stand and watch as the go down the driveway and disappear from sight. I feel alone again, the feeling has always been there, since I left the first time. I know what I've missed out on now and it kills me to see her doing the leaving this time. I refuse to lose her again.

I feel like I'm going to cry. I suck it up. This is not the time or place to let my feelings get the best of me. I spin on my heels and head back to the house, passing Damien, who had stood on the porch watching us. The one thing my father did right here was invest in a good alarm. There was a panel for the perimeter that stretched to the end of the driveway. The other panel controlled the house. If somehow someone managed to get past the perimeter and any window or door opened, we would know.

I peer up at Damien.  
"Guest room is this way," I say, leading him through the living room. "Get your rest. Tomorrow we buy supplies and head into the woods. You have your families honor to uphold after all." I leave him there, and go lock myself in my room upstairs.  
I undress, and crawl into bed. It's been a long, emotional, exhausting day, and I just want to pass out. Sleep comes easily.

My eyes shoot open. I roll over and look at the clock. It's 3am, my room is pitch black. It takes me a moment to realize the squealing I hear is the perimeter alarm. I fly out of bed, grabbing my .22 from my night stand and rush downstairs. The keypad shows the sensor to the left of the driveway is where it pinged. Someone was trying to get through. I can't see anyone, or anything. The sensors are rigged to tell the difference between animals and people. I let the alarm continue to sound. I feel, before seeing Damien shuffling up behind me.  
"Someone tried to head up the driveway," I whisper.  
He moves to the doorway next to me. He also has his gun in hand, and as I glance down farther, he's naked, again.

My heartbeat quickens. My breath catches. I can feel the heat radiating off his body as he stands next to me. He's so close, and he smells amazing. Musky, woodsy, clean. It's a very masculine smell. I fight the urge to reach out and stroke his chest. Then I realize I'm in my underwear and a tank top.  
"Eeep," it's the only noise I can get past my lips. I turn my eyes up towards him and he's smiling down at me. He winks. I can feel my face turning red. Thankfully it's dark in here and he can't see.  
"It's not like you haven't seen it," he whispers in my ear. I can feel his hot breath on my neck as he spoke. "It's more comfortable to sleep naked anyways. You should try it."  
Then he smacks my ass. I let out a moan.  
"It's early. I don't see anyone. The alarm must have scared him away. Get some rest before we head out," I command.

I pull away from him as quickly as I can. Shutting off the alarm, and resetting it, I rush back to my room, hoping he hasn't seen too much of me in the night. I stand at the top of the stairs, and watch as he shuffles back to bed. The moonlight catches his ass just right, and I feel a burning sensation start in my groin and rise.  
"Ugh," I groan to myself. I need to get over this. We have a dangerous journey ahead, and the last thing we need is sex complicating things. I force myself to look away and go back to bed.

#  The Woods

I push myself up onto my elbows and look around. Takes me a few minutes to clear my groggy brain, then I realize where I am. The guest room at Jany's house. It's a quaint room. I have noticed this whole house has a very country feel to it. White curtains. White linens. I lay back down. I dreamed of her again last night. That kiss. I can't get her out of my head. The way her lips tasted. The way she smells, the way her legs looked last night, her underwear, what little there was of them, hugging every curve of her ass. Her chest had slightly peeked out of the top of her tank. I need to focus. We have a lot to do, and I need to keep her safe. I can't allow her to be hurt, but I can't let her interfere either. She's so beautiful, sweet. Like no woman I've ever known.

I hear movement in the next room. I know the living room and kitchen are beyond my closed door. I slip into my jeans and t-shirt from last night. All my belongings are back at the campsite with my Jeep. But, I know Dimitri will be watching, thinking I'm stupid enough to come back. I pull my wallet out. $26 is all I have on me. I can't get far on that. I check my gun. I still have all my rounds. I wonder if I'll be able to bring myself to shoot Dimitri. If Jany were in danger, maybe. What if I have to choose between a woman I just met and my brother? I don't want to think about that right now. I have no clue what I would do.

I exit the bedroom, and look around. I'm hit instantly by the homey smell of bacon, and coffee. For such a huge, beautiful house, I notice it's sparsely decorated. A few family photos on the wall, no art. I amble over to the mantle, and pick up a photo. The simple wood frame is nothing compared to the beauty of the woman in the picture. Jany, Sammy and Ahi. I can sense her behind me.  
"You look so unhappy, in every photo. I can tell when you did smile it was forced," I observe, "Your eyes give it away."  
"Let's just say it wasn't the best childhood," she says, "I made some omelets, bacon and coffee. They are in the kitchen. Help yourself. I'm going to check the perimeter. Make sure everything is locked up and then we can get out of here."

I watch as she checks her gun, and walks out the front door. Her curves move with every step. She's the type of woman who doesn't need a single bit of makeup to be beautiful. I can feel it now. It's not just lust or sexual attraction. I can feel myself falling for her. And that conclusion may prove to be more dangerous than my brother. I want to trust her. I want to believe she knew nothing of this, of our family's past. Only time will tell. I find my way into the kitchen, pour some coffee and sit to enjoy the food she's made us. When she comes back in, I'm at the island counter.

"Omelets good. You cook a lot?" My eyes never leaving her face as I speak. She throws a bloody knife onto the counter and it lands in front of my plate. I drop the fork from my mouth to the plate.  
"Where was this?" I ask her.  
"Stabbed into a rabbit, in a tree at the end of the driveway. It's like he knew where the sensor was."

I turn it over in my hand. This is just sick, even for Dimitri. I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial my mother.  
"Ma, Dimitri is here, and I don't know what to do. He shot at me last night, and now he's killing animals to try and intimidate us."  
"Damien, your brother has some problems he needs to work through right now. The only thing you can do, is keep that woman safe, and find the Scepter. I love you son."  
"I love you too, mom." We disconnect. I turn back to Jany. She's just staring at me. I can cut the anger and tension with a knife. We have doom hanging over our heads. She just stares at me as I sit back down to continue eating.

As if breaking her out of a trance, she pours herself some coffee and sits down with me.  
"The tires on the Rover are all flat too. Thankfully the F350 was locked up in the garage. We can use that. I threw the tent, grill and sleeping bags in it already, but we need to stock up on food, ammo and get you some clothes before heading out onto the road," she tells me. I nod acknowledging that I heard her, but continue to eat. I'm hoping this normal act, will help counterbalance the fear Dimitri has caused her. I can see it in her eyes, though no emotion graces her face. I take note of how organized, and smart she is. I quickly finish eating, she drains her coffee. We both stand at the same time.  
"I'll take that," she grabs the plate from me.

I stand and try to stifle a laugh as she washes the dishes quickly. I wonder what it would be like living with, being domesticated with her. Waking up next to her in the morning. Wrapping her in my arms at night. Eating dinner together, talking about our day. I've never thought this before about anyone. I've never wanted to settle down. I've spent plenty of time with other women. All types of women. But no one like her.

When the house is locked up behind us, I carry her bag to the waiting truck. It's black, and shiny in the morning sun. A truck on steroids. It looks like no one has ever driven it. As if sensing my thoughts, she says,  
"This was my mothers, she didn't go anywhere often. It's basically brand new."  
"Well then," I say with glee, "Let's break this bitch in." I hold out my hand, waiting for her to hand me the keeps. I see her try to not laugh. I'm infectious. I know it. I'm thrilled to see her smiling after this morning.  
"Point me in the direction of the store and we can get on the road," I tell her, gliding into the driver seat.

We're in and out of the stores in no time. I grabbed some camo pants, a package of black t-shirts, deodorant and some trail mix. She adds two boxes of ammo for the Rugers, a box for her .22, a shot gun and a box of ammo for that too.  
"Going hunting Jany? Welcome home," the cashier smirks. Jany just stares at the counter, I can tell she's uncomfortable.  
"Thanks," I say to the man, grabbing the bags and pushing her out the door in front of me. Our next stop is the grocery store. We buy some cans of food, some meat, and bottled water. Two days' worth of food. I don't know if I can handle sleeping in a tent with her for two days and not touch her.

We don't talk as I drive. She stares out the window, watching the landscape fly by. I can tell she's lost in thought. The trees give way to a town, slightly larger than Fort Edward.  
"How far past the town?" I ask her.  
"About four miles. We will pull off and set up camp along a camping trail I found. Then plan more from there." She seems pretty focused, but I can tell something is bothering her. I wonder if she feels anything for me at all. I look back over. She's trying hard not to look at me.  
"That truck has been following us since Edward," she whispers. I look up in the rearview mirror. We are less than two miles from where we need to turn off. I guess I hadn't been paying attention.

The green Dodge pickup had been behind us for a while, but I hadn't realized it was behind us that long. Even from here, I can tell the truck is beat up. The license plate is caked with mud. No hope of calling it in to Niti.  
"I can't see the driver. Do you think it's Dimitri?" I ask her. No sooner had the words exited my mouth, the rear window of our truck shatters. The Ford swerves across the road as we both duck. I regain control of the truck before we go off the road.  
"He's shooting. Guess that answered our question," she yells, trying to be heard over the wind whisking through the window. I speed up.

We're on a deserted stretch of road. Trees sprout up on either side of us. No houses, no other cars. Jany unbuckles her seat belt, and twists to get a better view of the truck behind us. She pulls my Ruger out of her purse that was on the seat between us. I know this is not the right time at all, but I can't help checking out her curves. They are in my face after all.

Her jeans, tight on her skin, the roundness of her ass, her tight hips. I see her steady herself on the back of her seat and take aim. My heart stops. I know he's trying to kill us, but that doesn't change the fact that he's my brother. If I stop her, she may stop trusting me, if I stop him, well, I'd like to do it without hurting him. If my brother doesn't see the error in his ways, then it's my duty as the man in our family to handle it myself. Even if it means I have to kill him. Either way, it has to be my choice. It's my duty. As she gets ready to fire, her whole body tenses. I crank the wheel tightly, throwing her off balance, she glares at me. I can feel the hot pokers from her eyes stabbing into my face.

"I'm sorry, something ran out in front of me," I quietly tell her. I keep my eyes on the road ahead of me. I'm afraid to look at her, she'll know I'm lying. I speed up. Pushing down on the gas as hard as I can.  
"We can outrun him. That old truck will never keep up with your new one," I say, hoping she can't hear the desperation in my voice.  
She turns again, and before I can react, she shoots out the front tire. The Dodge swerves left and right, all over the road, and then disappears into a grove of trees.  
"Keep driving," she says, "Our turn is right up here, on the left. Pull in a short ways, and then stop so I can cover our tracks." I see her point to a small path between a few trees. From the road, I'm unsure the truck will even fit through there, it does though.

"How did you find this trail? The tree cover is pretty thick. I thought you had said you never been up here before." I ask her. I'm hoping idle conversation will get us past what just happened, plus I'm curious.  
"Mapworld, it's a wonderful website," she answers curtly. I kill the engine, and Jany leaps out of the truck. From the bed, she yanks out a large machete. It looks like it belonged in the hands of some serial killer movie villain. I try to stifle a laugh. I know she's angry with me. She starts chopping at some lower branches hanging next to the path. When she has a small pile, she starts spreading them over where we pulled in. I try to help.  
"No," she snaps at me. She hands me the machete. "You need to find a large log, or large branch we can get down here quickly to block the path before he gets here."

I leave her there with her little branches and start to scan the forest floor around me. I wonder what I'm going to do. My whole plan seems to be falling apart. She knows I swerved on purpose to save Dimitri. But will she be able to understand why? I find a large, dead log. It looks as if it's been rotting on the ground for a few years. I pick up one end, and watch as bugs, spiders and snakes slither away from what little light is let through the forest ceiling. It doesn't weigh much, so I'm able to drag it over on my own. Jany comes to help anyways, each of us picking up an end, we chuck it across the path. Hopefully it looks natural enough. Silently, we both climb back into the truck and drive ahead.

We drive the trail for about 20 minutes, weaving our way around fallen trees, and holes in the path. We pull up to a clearing, again wondering how the hell she found this through the thick trees above. No matter how good the satellite images are online, they can't penetrate trees to see the ground below. I'm starting to suspect that she's been here. She knows too much of the area. I'm getting angrier and angrier. Apparently we both still have our secrets. We unload the truck and set up camp. Nothing massive. We pop the tent, arrange rocks for a fire, and gather wood. Not a single word spoken the whole time. I can see it in her face.

Her anger is brewing, bottled up, ready to explode. And it does. We finish getting things ready, I pull out some canned beans, a pot and some granola bars. I start to make some lunch before we head out to scout around. She's sitting in a chair, fixated on me. Her pouty lips pursed into a scowl. My mind goes back to that kiss again. I instantly yearn for more. I want to know what she feels like. I shake my head and focus on what I'm doing. I look up as the beans finish cooking. She's standing above me as I'm crouched at the fire.

"What the hell was that back there? If I can't trust you, then I'll go ahead without you. I will not let you put me, or my sister at risk. I will find Phillip. I will kill him. With or without you. If you betray me again, I will kill you too." She spoke clearly and loudly to me, but I barely heard anything she said. I was staring at the Ruger she had pointed in my face. My own gun. My blood started boiling. I could hear my heart pounding in my ear drums. I slowly stand up, grabbing her wrist as I do. I squeeze, tightly, until the gun is loose, and pull it from her.

I stare into her eyes, hoping she understands how serious this was for both of us. I lean in, until our faces are almost touching and said,  
"If it was your sister, what would you have done? He's my brother. He may be on the wrong path right now, but that doesn't mean he can't come back to the right one. If he stays the path he has chosen, then it is MY duty, not YOURS, to take care of him," my voice getting louder and harsher with each word. I wrap my gun less hand around her neck, and continue. Her eyes opening widely.

"I did what I thought was right at the time. I kept you alive and safe, and kept my brother alive until I can figure out what to do with him. If you have a problem with that, then shoot me if you can. But I know you won't. I can see it in your eyes. I can feel it in the way your heart raced at my touch. You don't want to kill me. So drop the empty threats. But heed mine, as it's not an empty promise. Look into my eyes, and see the truth. I will not let anything or anyone, including you and my brother, get in my way. If I have to, I will kill both of you. Nothing will stop me from returning honor to my family." I drop her wrist, and release her neck. I tuck my gun into my waist band and storm away. I hike into the woods until I can't see her anymore. I could feel the fear I saw in her eyes. I hate myself for what I did.

But she had a gun in my face. I know she was still standing there, dumbfounded by what had just happened, watching me walk away. I had to get away from her. God she smelled so good. Being so close to her I felt surrounded by the sweet jasmine and honey scent I've come to call hers. As I inhaled it, I had felt myself control waning. I had to put some distance between her and myself. What will be with us, will be, but we have to succeed first. We have to put our quest ahead of everything. It took a lot out of me not to take her right then and there. I sit down on a large rock jutting out from the ground, and pray to the gods that we succeed.

I don't know how long I was sitting there, but as I stare into the vast forest surrounding us, I hear her trying to quietly walk up behind me.  
"What?" I say to her coarsely.  
"I'm sorry I yelled at you," she whispers. I keep looking forward as she sits on the ground next to the rock. As we sit there in silence, a large eagle floats to a landing in front of us. I wonder if it's the same one from my camp. I hear her breath catch. It sits there, looking at us, cocking its head. After a few moments, the regal bird spreads its wings and takes flight. Jany lays her head on my leg. I shiver at her very touch. The warmth returning to my groin.  
"That was amazing," she says to me.

"I was only going to shoot his tire to begin with," she continues. "I understand what you mean. I don't know what I would do if Sammy turned on me."  
I look down at her. I can see pity, and pain in her beautiful eyes. They are wet with tears yet to fall. I cup her chin and lean down. I gently kiss her. My excitement spreads as I taste her again. She rises to her knees and leans in, kissing me back.

Her hands rise, clasping my face, pulling me into her. I reach my arms around her back, holding her against me. She pulls away, and smiles at me.  
"I used to see an eagle all the time when Sammy and I played outside," she tells me. "I always thought it was following us."  
"It was," I explain, "I believe it to be my ancestor. Tamer of Eagles. His soul entering his spirit animal. An eagle has always led the men of my family to yours."  
She pulls farther away from me, contemplating what I said. Her phone rings, breaking the silence between us. She pulls the cell from her jean pocket.  
"It's Sammy," she tells me, looking at her caller id. She walks back towards camp, taking the call.

I wait a few minutes, to allow her time to speak with her sister in private and head back.  
"Did she find something?" I ask her.  
"Sammy said she found receipts for six guns in Phillips office, but she can't account for any of them in the house. She thinks he's going to be armed to the teeth. I have a feeling this is going to be a bloody fight."  
We both fall silent at the thought of how dangerous this is. I'm sure we both feel someone is going to die, only, I have the upper hand. I already know it will be me. I've dreamed my death at the end of this.

"I think we should hike there tonight," she says. She's probably already planning things out in her head. "We can scope it out under the cover of night. See what we're up against, see if he's even here." I pour up both a dish of beans, and we eat our lunch. Both of us, not knowing what to say, so we keep quiet. I'm not afraid of death. I am afraid of not succeeding. I am afraid of not telling Jany how I feel, and I'm afraid she may get hurt.

It's unbelievable how much you can feel for someone you just met. I've never believed in love at first sight. But, meeting Jany, I do feel converted. Maybe I fell in love with her when I dreamed, maybe it was when I first saw her in real life, and maybe, it was when we first touched. I don't know. But what I do know, if I feel really strongly about her. I don't want these feelings to go away. They're comforting. I don't want to lose her either, I want the chance to get to know her.

We finish eating, and I crawl into the tent.  
"I'm going to rest up before we go. We have a long night ahead of us," I tell her. I lay down on one of the sleeping bags we had spread out, and put my arm over my head. Anticipation of what's to come is coursing through my body. I'm ready, I tell myself. I hear the flap to the tent open, and Jany moves in beside me.  
"Why can't I stop thinking about you?" she asks innocently. She looks down at me as she sits next to me. "Since I saw you at the bus station, you've been in my head. My dreams, my thoughts."  
"Your dreams huh?" I smile at her. Reaching my hand up, cupping behind her ear, I pull her face down to me. I kiss her again, this time, with more hunger. Harder, deeper. I feel her intensity matching mine.

She climbs on top of me. Her hands grabbing my face, as if she can pull me closer into her. I sit up, wrapping my arms around her waist. I can feel myself ready to explode at her very touch. Our hands explore. I long to touch, feel, taste, every inch of her. She's so much more than I could have imagined. I need her, want her. I'm enraptured by her scent, taste. She pulls my shirt over my head, only releasing my lips long enough to get it out from between us.

She throws my shirt aside, her hands trailing down my chest, and up my back. My skin tingling, sizzling a trail where her fingers had been. She stops, and pulls away, looking at me. I could get lost in those eyes. She smiles the sexiest, most beautiful smile I've ever seen. This one reaching her eyes. I can see she really is happy, and I love that look on her face. I wish I could see her this happy forever.

#  My Savior

I've never felt so close to someone I just met. In fact, I don't think I've felt this close with anyone, ever, except Sammy. I've been with other men, and none of them excited me like this. It was like a lightning strike when I first saw him, and it's been sizzling and boiling since. I feel like I'm about to combust. My fingers tingle and burn as they touch him. Sliding down his rock hard abs, perfectly chiseled body. He wraps his strong arms around me, holding me tight. I feel safe, for the first time in my life. I don't cringe when he touches me. Invoking feelings I never thought I would feel. I let my guard down with him. I allow him to see me. The real me.

I take my shirt over my head, my long black hair cascading down, covering my breasts. He wraps his hand in it, pulling my head back gently. A shock waves through me where his lips meet my skin. He starts kissing my neck, slowly at first, then with more intensity as he moves down. I shudder with each touch. He smells wild, musky. That smell is more intoxicating than any alcohol I've ever had.

I kiss him again. It's as if I've been starving all these years, and he's the food that's been withheld from me. He rolls over, pinning me underneath him. His one hand still wrapped in my hair, holding me prisoner in our kiss. His other hand trying to free me from my jeans. I reach down and help him. I'm impatient. I want him. I can't wait. I try to slip out of them, my brain's not working. I can't get them off.

Damien breaks our kiss, and laughs.  
"You still have your shoes on genius." He smiles at me, reaching down to unlace my boots. His smile causes the heat in my groin to spread, my whole body feeling it. I smile back, watching the muscles in his arms flex with each movement. He eases them off, tossing them aside. Gliding my jeans off my legs, he takes his time, his fingers feeling their way down. For a moment, I wonder, shit, did I even shave my legs? He doesn't seem to care, so neither do I. I sit up, pulling at his pants as he undoes his own boots. I just need him out of them. I need him on me, in me.

Throwing himself back on top of my body, I feel his heart beating, racing, faster as he begins kissing my neck again. His strong hands all the while exploring, groping. I roam his body with mine, trying to commit every inch of him to memory. Every crevice, every line, every muscle. I writhe beneath him. Wanting him. Dying to feel him inside of me.

His kisses move on down my stomach, further and further until he reaches the fire that's building inside me. He licks hungrily. A loud moan bursts from my mouth. A groan, so long and deep, I felt like it had been caught in my throat my whole life. He moves back up, and as he nears, he pauses, looking at me. I open my eyes, pleading with my look.  
"You sure you want to do this?" he asks me.  
"Yes, please, I need you now."

I feel him thrust himself deep inside of me. I hear screaming, and realize it's me, and it's such a sound of pleasure. I wrap my legs around him, trying to pull him in deeper and deeper, trying to become one. Holding on for dear life, we grind busily, it feels like we've done this together before. A perfect rhythm. We both push and push. I match his moves, throwing myself at him. I feel myself rising, my body getting to the edge of a cliff, ready to catapult over.  
"Damien!" I yell out, as my orgasm shakes my body. I've never had a release like that. My entire self-quivering. He releases as he climaxes as well, his body going limp. He collapses on top of me. His arms folding under my head, pulling my face to his. He kisses me softly.

I tingle as he traces his fingertips down my side. I can't move, can't pull away, don't want to. It's a welcome tickle. As he pulls himself out of me, rolling over to his back, he scoops me up with him, holding me against his side. I lay my head in the nook of his shoulder, my face resting on his chest. I smile, uncontrollably. I don't ever remember feeling like this, this happy, relaxed, safe.

"Jany?" he says, "Can I ask you a questions?"  
"Sure."  
"Why did you say you want to be the one to kill Phillip? Because of your mom? Wouldn't you want to see him in jail instead?"  
"Now who's the one asking too many questions at once?" I joke with him. How do I even begin to answer him? I've never spoke with anyone about this.  
"Our childhood sucked. Phillip was always drunk. He would come home, beat our mother. He tried beating Sammy and I once, my mother hit him so hard with a broom that it broke on his head. He turned around and beat her until she was out cold. He was a monster." I feel myself tear up as the memories flood back into my head. I haven't thought of all this in so long.

"My sister and I used to stay up late, sitting in my bed, in the dark, waiting for him to stumble home drunk. We talked about how we would leave together as soon as we were old enough. Sometimes, he didn't come home at all. He would disappear for days. Those were the only happy times we ever had. My mother would take us on picnics, shopping. We had wonderful times, and were allowed to laugh. But we were always fearful when he would show up. Ahi taught us to defend ourselves. How to shoot, fight. I always wondered why she taught us this, when she never used it herself. When he came home, he smelled of stale cigarettes, liquor and sex. She knew what he did. How could she not? How could a mother not know that that her husband sneaks into her daughter's rooms?"

My whole body shaking with fear, crying.  
"I used to hide Sammy, so she would be safe. I took the brunt of his anger and abuse instead of her. I took it until the last day of high school, and then I left and never looked back."  
I sigh, and shake my heard. I angle my face to look up into Damien's' face. He kisses my forehead and holds me tighter against him.  
"I packed my clothes, and money, and left. I didn't look behind me. I felt bad for leaving Sammy, but I had to get out of there. I couldn't take it anymore. Every time he touched me, I fought the urge to kill him. I travelled a little before settling in Chicago."

I sit up, looking at him. I can't believe I'm telling this man all of my dirty little secrets. I just admitted to him my father sexually abused me. What is wrong with me?  
"I stayed in Chicago four years ago. Tired of moving around, hoping he didn't find me. But, something kept nagging at me. Maybe boredom, maybe rage, maybe fear, and guilt. I should have gone back for Sammy, but was afraid if I returned, I would never leave again, at least, not alive. I joined the police department, and spent my time roughing up criminals, and throwing myself into abusive relationships. I tried to psycho analyze myself once, and realized I craved those toxic relationships because it was like a penance. For abandoning Sammy.

I look away from him. I don't want him to see the pain, and fear in my eyes. I can't stand him seeing my cry. The guilt I've been carrying returns and I feel burdened down. I continue,  
"When Sammy called to tell me about my mother, I felt it was my fault. I should have killed him before this could happen. Now it's too late for my mother, but not for Sammy. I can still save her from him. And I intend to do it."  
Damien says nothing. I ramble on, joking about Sammy and I growing up, crying, unburdening myself. He just holds me, and laughs with me, wipes my tears, and kisses me gently. I've never felt so alive, and it's all because of this amazingly sexy man. I breathe in his smell as I drift off.

I see blood everywhere. My hands, dripping with it. Damien lying on the ground in front of me, covered in it. Pure red, falling over us like rain. From the mist, I hear a ringing. I try to walk towards it, the sound is growing louder and louder. I feel someone shaking me.

My eyes fly open, and Damien is leaning over me, staring, and smiling.  
"Your phone's ringing. I didn't want to wake you. You're beautiful when you sleep, but you seemed distressed anyways," he tells me, "Your phone just won't stop, it could be Sammy, maybe she has something important." I look around. The sun seems to have set and night has fallen. I wonder how long we've slept. I search for my jeans. They're found by the tent flap. I pull my cell phone out of my pocket. Seven missed calls from Sammy. I hit the call button and wait. It rings a few times and then is answered.

I hit the call button and wait. It rings a few times and then is answered.  
"Hey Sammy, wha-"  
I'm interrupted by a voice on the other end.  
"I have your sister traitor bitch. Put Damien on the phone," he demands. I fell all the blood draining from my face.  
"What's wrong Jany? What is it?" Damien asks me. I can't answer him. My brain won't work. This psycho has Sammy. The phone slips from my hand. I'm choking on my words and all that comes out is a sound.  
"Mmph." I feel a tear slide down my cheek, as if I haven't cried enough already lately. Damien picks up the phone.

"Hello?" He listens carefully. I can see his hatred growing inside him. It seeps from his eyes. He disconnects and throws my phone aside. Gathering me up in his arms, he holds me. Whispering.  
"Jany Jany, my god, I'm so sorry. I never thought this would happen. You've got to believe me. Jany?" I hear his voice pleading. I push him away. I feel sick to my stomach. Sick when he touches me. What have I done? I can't bear to look at him. I'm afraid the damn holding back my tears will break and release a flood. I have to be strong. I can do this. I finally manage to swallow the lump swelling in my throat.  
"What does he want?" I mumble, avoiding his eyes.

"He said that he has Sammy and that we need to bring the Scepter to him or.." he trails off, but I know what he's getting at. She'll die. He will kill her, even if we give it to him, I fear he will kill her. My dream. All the blood. It's Sammy. I wonder what has happened to Niti. Is he ok? I pray he's alive. I can't allow anyone else to be hurt over this. I have to save her.  
"Niti?" I ask him.  
"He didn't mention him. Jany, please, I'm so sorry."  
I wave my hand to cut him off. I can't bear hearing his pleads anymore. I tune him out.  
"We have to give it to him." I see the fear in Damien's eyes as the get bigger.  
"Jany, we can save Sammy, I know we can, but there's no way, no way I can give that to him. He's too greedy."

Ignoring him, I begin to dress, and slide my boots back on.  
"Let's get moving. It's going to be a rough hike with all this mud." I throw his pants at him. I climb out of the tent, and walk over to the truck. I pick up one of Damien's Rugers. I slip it into my waist band. I holster the .22 to my leg, and crawl into a black hoodie. I strap my hunting knife to my outer thigh. Damien comes out and grabs the shotgun and the other Ruger. I can't stand to be so close to him right now. I go and search for my cell. Turning it to silent, I then pull up the GPS app. We need this to get to the cabin from here. We take nothing else. I look around. I wonder if I'll make it back here. If I'll survive my battle with Phillip in time to save Sammy.

Glancing up at Damien, he looks apprehensive. He stands a few feet away from me. Staring, as if trying to read my face. I stone wall him. Making sure no emotion is showing, I look him up and down. I'm sure I look just like him right now, a soldier, readying for war. That's what we are doing, isn't it? Heading to war? I feel like he can read my thoughts.  
"Let's go fight," he says. I silently follow him into the trees, and towards our impending doom.

#  The Battle

I take Jany's hand, and help her down the side of the hill. We've been walking for over an hour. Silent the whole way. I'm surprised she has even let me touch her long enough to help her. I know she's upset and I feel to blame. I never thought my brother would go this far. He kidnapped someone, and threatened to kill her. What I didn't tell Jany was the slight laughter I heard in the background as we hung up. I have an odd feeling about this.

We're within yards of the cabin. I can smell the smoke from a fire. I hear music. He's playing country. I wonder if he's drunk. I look over at Jany through the night. She doesn't even know how beautiful she is. She looks like a warrior with all the weaponry she has on. I find it a big turn on. We've been walking so long that our eyes have adjusted to the dense darkness. I put my finger to my lips to signal her to stay quiet. We creep towards the clearing around the cabin. It's a rustic place. A tin roof, wooden walls. It looks more like a shed than a cabin. For a man with money like him, this place looks rundown and cheap. The yard looks unkempt. There's light seeping through the only window on this side of the cabin. We are behind it, so we can't see the door. There's a beat up Chevy pickup sitting to the left of the clearing.

I signal to get down. We crouch and run to the truck, to get a better view. I peer out from the front. I see Phillip inside, chugging his beer, shaking around and singing along to the music. He's pasty white with scraggly brown hair. You can tell it's too long for him, he keeps pushing it back out of his eyes as he moves around. His face is unshaven. A small beard beginning to form. The man looks like death. I could see the faint line of muscles under his shirt he was wearing. The white tee hanging loosely on his thin frame. He may have once been strong, but this is a shadow of the man who killed my father. Other than the guns he has, I doubt he will put up much of a fight.

I pull back, and turn to Jany.  
"I'm going around the front to the door. You go around back and check for another door, meet me in front," I whisper to her. I'm taking the lead here whether she likes it or not. She may hate me right now, but I refuse to let her be hurt any more than she already has been.  
"When you get to the front, I'll kick in the door. Have your gun ready, safety off. Go low, I'll stay high and draw his attention." She looks at me with annoyance.  
"Damien, I'm a cop. I know how to do this." Her voice is short, and I know she's anxious. I long to hold her again and make sure she knows everything will be alright, but she beats me to it.

She grabs my face, kisses me soft and quick.  
"I'll see you on the other side." She turns and looks over the bed of the truck, then disappears into the dark. I'm left sitting there alone, shocked. A heavy load has been lifted from my shoulders. I turn back, peering out around the truck, making sure the coast is still clear. I rush over towards the front of the cabin, staying low. Hoping, praying Phillip doesn't see either of us.

I'm sure there won't be another exit. This place is pretty small. I huddle against the wall of the cabin near the door. Not stepping onto the porch yet, I wait for Jany. It's the longest minute of my life sitting there, waiting. When I see her, I let out a breath of relief, realizing I've been holding it in. She moves to the edge of the tiny porch, ready to go. I step up, stand in front of the wooden barrier between us and her nightmares. Using all my force, I kick the door right above the handle, and it flies open, busting from the hinges, as the door clatters to the floor, Jany quickly ducks below me, and scoots inside, my Ruger pointing at Phillip.

Fear and recognition wash over his face. I draw up the shotgun and aim at his head. The beer he was just enjoying slips from his hand and spills to the floor.  
"Hello, father," she says to him. I can hear a taste of joy in her voice, but her face remains serious. I can tell she's been looking forward to a moment like this. As the shock starts to wear off, he takes a step forward.  
"I figured you would crawl out from underneath whatever rock you were living in when you heard," he growls at her. "Thought you were too good for our family huh? Daddy's gonna have to teach you that lesson. And who's this?" he asks, looking at me.

A smile starts to spread across his face and it makes me sick, thinking of all he's done to the women in his life.  
"This your fuck buddy? Or you just couldn't handle dear ol' dad by yourself?"  
"No Phillip," she replies, "I was just too good for you. And this," she points at me with her gun, "Is Damien Hall."  
I see his eyes light up at the mention of my name. He suddenly springs forward. Launching himself at her.

"You bitch, you led him here? You brought him to me?"  
As he nears her, I bash him over the back of the head with my shotgun. He collapses to the floor at her feet.  
"Let's get him up and tied to one of those chairs," I say to her. I point at the two wooden chairs in what would be the kitchen. She's visibly shaken. I need to occupy her thoughts, get her over her fear. She's confronting her demon, her father, this is going to be hard for her.  
The chairs sit next to an uneven, warped kitchen table. The whole cabin is really one room. I don't even see a door for a bathroom.

We both grab an arm and drag him over to a chair.  
"There," I say, motioning towards rope he has hanging near the window. She grabs it and tosses it at me. I twist the rope around his torso, looping it between the rungs on the chair. There's not enough left to tie his hands or feet, so I twine it around his arms on my final loop. This will have to do.

"What now?" she asks me. Her voice sounding so small and scared. I know she has a lot of hatred right now and she needs to channel that to the task at hand. I don't know if she will be able to follow through with killing him. But now is not the right time, we need to find the Scepter.  
"Let's turn this place upside down and find the Scepter and his guns," I reply.

There are four cupboards, a three drawer dresser, a fireplace, a radio and a couch. That's it. There's no fridge. No other rooms. I take the kitchen area, Jany heads to the dresser. There's a roaring fire in the fireplace. On the mantle are three of the handguns. A shotgun on the couch. Jany starts pulling the drawers out, flipping them upside down, and raining clothes upon the floor. Two more hand guns fall out. After each drawer has been emptied, she looks in and around the shell of the dresser. It wasn't there. The cupboards are empty except a few items of food. No guns. The Scepter wasn't here either. We both head over to the couch, pulling it apart. Nothing.  
"At least we accounted for the guns," she says. I watch her gather them and lay them on the table behind Phillip.

I stomp around the floor, looking for loose boards, or something. Nothing. It's not here. We need to find out where he stashed it. We both look up as Phillip starts to groan and move his head. She crosses the room to him quicker than I could. Before I know it, her arm raises, reaches back, and slaps him across the face.  
"Where is it?" she demands. He looks groggy and out of it.  
"Wh-what do you mean? Where's what?" he whimpers.  
"You know what she means," I interject. "We're looking for the same thing my father came looking for twelve years ago." He laughs, looking in my eyes.  
"That loser? Your father? Hah. What a joke of a man he was. Not much of a role model huh? Maybe it's buried out back with your dad?" He continues laughing.

My rage is building and I can't stop.  
"Better role model than you were." I pull his head back with a handful of hair so that he's looking right in my eyes.  
"I will avenge my father, and restore my families honor." I spit at him. "Where is the Scepter?" I slowly say each word letting them sink in.  
"Screw you," he says. "Your father was weak, no match for the gun in my hand the day I saw him following me around, creeping around my house. I knew he was there the second he set foot on my property."

I look at Jany. I can tell we are both thinking of the alarm back at the house.  
"I knew then that I had to take the Scepter out of my house and hide it. But you'll never find it." He grins devilishly at us.  
"Jany, you look just like your mother. We can have some fun kiddo. You're about the age when she stopped having fun. Come on Jany, let your pa up." I see her tense. Stiffly she moves in between me and Phillip.  
"You're even wearing her necklace. How fitting," he sneers.

Jany places her hand on my chest and pushes me away. She has a peaceful look in her eyes, and it scares me. Full of clarity and knowing. She whips around quickly, I don't even see it coming. Her knife swipes his face faster than light, slashing him, across his cheek from nose to ear. He howls like a wounded animal.  
"You bitch. You bitch. What'd you do that for? I'll kill you bitch." He's trying to rock the chair, back and forth, trying to free himself. The blood starts dripping down his face, over his mouth. He spits some on the floor.  
"I'll die before I tell you or him where it is. You're not my child anymore. I disowned you the day you left. You meant nothing then and you mean nothing to me now," he screams at her. Jany raises her arm again, I think she's going to cut him again, but as her arm comes down, she plunges the knife to the hilt into his leg, right above the knee.

More screams from Phillip. I can see the muscles in his arms bulging against the ropes. He's fighting to get up, screaming from the pain. Jany reaches down and quickly pulling the knife out, blood spurts everywhere. Landing on her front, her face, the floor, and my shoes. She doesn't bother wiping it off, just plunges it in deep again, this time leaving it, and walking away. She sets the Ruger down on the table, grabs a pack of smokes Phillip had left there and walks out the door.

I see this as my chance. I sidle up to him, twisting the knife a little, and relishing his scream.  
"What did you do to my father when he came for the Scepter?" I ask him.  
Phillip forces out a laugh between screams. It's so deep and evil, it startles me. He spits blood from his mouth into my face.  
"He's buried near the Scepter. I figured it only fitting that he be near the item he died for. Don't worry, I'll bury you right next to him. I'll even throw my daughter in with you for company."

I can feel the bile rising into my throat. I've known a long time my father is dead, but seeing this monster, hearing those words from his mouth, it's more than I can bear. I look away, seeing Jany standing outside. I turn back to Phillip, reach up, and slam my hand onto the knife, just making sure it's all the way in. I head outside to be with Jany, followed by the sound of Phillips screams.

She's lighting up a smoke.  
"Didn't know you had that bad habit," I say, taking one from her and lighting it myself.  
"Haven't had one in a few days. Some silly part of me abided by my father's fuels. Now smoking in the house, except him when he was drinking," she explains. She takes a long drag. I can see her chest collapse as she exhales.  
"Yea, I know what you mean," I agree. "My father never smoked, I suppose it was a bad habit I picked up from the farmers I work for." I reach over and try to wipe away Phillips blood from her face. She pulls away. She sits there, stone cold, unmoving. We just stay there on the porch, staring into the dark.

"Now what?" I question her.  
"Now we just have to get rou-" There's a loud crashing noise coming from the cabin, cutting her off, her words just drift away. As we both stand and turn around, Phillip has broken free of the chair, and is taking aim with my Ruger. I can he's pointing it at Jany. There's blood trickling down his face, and down his leg, the knife still sticking out of it. He's standing in the doorway, looking wild. We don't dare move. As I hear the bang, time seems to slow down and I throw myself towards Jany. Shielding her with my body, I push her to the ground. I feel a pinch, then spreading burn in my shoulder. The wind is knocked out of me. My whole shoulder and my chest feel like there are flames licking my skin.

As I fall to the ground and roll onto my back, I realize, here it is. This is the death I saw coming. At least it came with saving Jany.  
"Damien," I hear her scream. I see her face hovering over me before everything goes black.

#  My Vengeance

I watch with horror as Damien falls to the ground, unconscious. I fall to his side. I felt my heart stop. Full of concern for Damien, but watching my father, I hope Phillip falls for the distraction. I try to look like I'm helping him, when really I'm trying to release my .22 from its holster. I quickly snap up, and shoot Phillip in the arm, before he can aim the gun at me again. He stumbles back, but doesn't go down. I shoot again, this time, taking out his kneecap as I step towards him. I hear his screams of pain as he folds to the floor. His hands holding his leg still. I walk in, kick the gun from his hand, and stand over him.  
"Please don't kill me Jany baby. I'm your daddy. You love your daddy right?" He used to say that to us when he crawled into our bed at night. I feel sick just hearing it again.

"Plea-" I cut off his pleads by stepping on his knee. I have to admit, I'm enjoying his cries of pain. With every agonizing sound out of his mouth, I think to myself, 'This is for you Ahi. This is for you Sammy. This is for all the pain we have endured because of him.' I worry about Damien. I look back over my shoulder. I can see him slightly stirring. He's alive. Good, I have time. I glare down at Phillip.

"Last chance," I say, "Tell me where the Scepter is, and I'll let you live."  
"The well," he says quickly. The words pouring out of his mouth like water from a faucet. "It's in the bucket, d-down the well. It's out back about 100 yards, edge of the clearing." I stare into his eyes. I'm wondering if he's telling me the truth. I hadn't paid much attention when circling the house. Only looking for escape routes, I hadn't scanned the yard.  
"Go ahead baby, go get it, then you can call an ambulance for your dad, ok? We can be a family again. I'll show you how to protect it. Just like my father showed me." His coddling voice, too much to take. I life the gun, taking aim at his head.  
"We were never a real family. Not with you around," I say.  
"Jany, I didn't ki-" I shoot him in the head, between the eyes. He still has a look on his face of hope. I don't need to hear anything else he had to say. I tuck the .22 back in the holster and pick up the Ruger.

I hurry back to Damien's side. I lean over him. Holding his face.  
"Please, wake up, Damien, please. We can't end like this. You must know I'm not blaming you for Sammy. Just like you didn't blame me for your father." I plead, beg, and pray all in the same breath that he will be ok. "Please, don't die before I get a chance to love you." He's wearing a black shirt, so I can't see how bad it is. I run back inside, pulling my knife from Phillips leg. I slice the shirt, spreading it open, exposing his chest. The same chest that just earlier I had been running my fingers over, memorizing each touch.

Now I can see his injury. He's been shot in the shoulder. It looks to be above the lungs and heart. He may have got lucky. I roll him towards me, feeling behind him for the exit wound. I find it. Parallel to the entry. A through and through, that's good. I take my sweatshirt off, and start cutting it with my knife. I make some patches, and press them on the wounds. I use his torn shirt to wrap this chest and hold the patches in place. I use another part to make a sling.

"I saved your life and now you love me?" he whispers in my ear, "That's all it took?"  
"HA," a nervous laugh escapes my lips. "Well the favor is repaid, because I just saved yours. Don't look at me like that." Tears of relief start to roll down my face. He reaches up, softly wiping them from my face. I hold his hand to my face and kiss it.  
"Don't look at you like what? Like I love you? Because I think I do."  
"Shh, Damien, we can talk later."  
"Jany, when I had the dream, of it being my turn, my time for the quest, I dreamt of my death. I saw blood. I saw you, like this leaning over me. Your face. It was so beautiful. I think it was love at first sight. I fell in love with you then," he tells me.

What can I say to that? He loves me.  
"I think your dream was wrong. Because you're alive. And I think I fell in love with you right away too. That first night, at the station, when I saw you, then after, in my dream. You and I foolishly walking hand in hand along the river in Italy. Who knows, maybe when this is over, we can make it come true."

Slowly he sits up, feeling the patches on his body.  
"It was a through and through. Seems to have missed everything important. And, by the way, I knew your threat to kill me was empty too." I tell him. I can see his face twist as he tries not to laugh.  
"Good patch job, but horrible bed side manners. Don't make the gunshot victim laugh Nurse Jany." I try to hand him the makeshift sling.  
"I don't need that thing, it's just a flesh wound." I help him stand up. I drop to grab his gun that fell out when he saved me. He takes it, and places it back in his pants. He looks at Phillip sprawled on the floor. I can read the question in his mind. The well. I forgot.

"Come, it's this way," I tell him as I drag him helplessly across the yard. "It's in the well out back, the opposite side we came in from." I can't contain my excitement. We rush around the side of the cabin, and there is it. Tucked in the corner a short stone well. Sure enough, a rope tied to a branch, and I pull it up. As the bucket gets closer to the top, I see it, the shining glinting golden Scepter. I bounce with anticipation. As I reach in to grab it, my hand tingles, I feel like the Scepter is vibrating. It's cold. All these deaths have been over this?

I place the Scepter between my arm and my body. I see him glance to the small mound of rocks next to the well. I grab his hand and squeeze.  
"I'm sorry." I don't know what else to say. He knows what I mean. He walks over, kneels.  
"Father, you have been honored." He gets up and comes back to me.  
"We'll take his truck back to our site and get our things. We can work out a plan to get Sammy back. Did Dimitri say where he has her?" I ask.  
"He just said to call her phone when we have it."  
"Ok, we'll go back to camp and work it out. What do we do with this?" I ask, pointing at the cabin.  
"I don't think I want to be answering a lot of questions about it."  
He walks over to Phillips' truck. There's a gas can in the back. He picks it up with his good arm.  
"Burn it."

I search the truck for keys. They fall out of the visor when I flip it down. I pocket them, take the gas can, and pour the gas over Phillips' body, splash it on the walls. I dump a trail of it out the door. The can gets tossed back in the house. I bend over and light the trail. We both run for the truck. It starts up shakily. Idling roughly. I hope it makes it to our camp. I floor the pedal, and get us out of there as the cabin explodes behind us. A plume of smoke darkens what little moonlight there is. Rising with the smoke, are all the bad memories, the fear, the hatred I had growing up. My burden has been lifted.

We pull into our campsite twenty minutes later. I rush over to help Damien out of the truck.  
"I'm not disabled," he laughs. "I'm fine, it's a flesh wound. Really." He tries to assure me he's ok. I go back to the driver's side and grab the Scepter. I take it to the 350 and hide it under the driver's seat. I pack up what items we won't need overnight, and stow it in the truck. We crawl into the tent. I lay down on my sleeping bag without bothering to undress or kick off my shoes. Damien crawls in beside me, lays his head on my stomach. I caress his head.

"How are we going to handle this?" I ask him. He stays silent. At first I think he's fallen asleep. I let out a small sigh.  
"We will find out where he is, or where he thinks he wants to meet. Then we can plan on the drive back," he finally answers.  
We both drift off to sleep. Exhausted, drained of all the adrenaline we were high on.

I come awake at twilight. The sun is barely beginning to rise. I'm curled next to Damien. Even hurt, he's still so strong, and safe feeling. I lay there, listening to his heartbeat. I feel him stirring beside me and I sit up. He smiles at me without opening his eyes.  
"You're so sexy in the morning. If I wasn't gravely injured, I'd jump you right now," he says dreamily.  
"How do you know how I look? You haven't even opened your eyes," I jest.  
"I dreamed about you." He opens his eyes, "Yep, my dream was right."  
I let out a giggle and bend down to kiss him.

"Stop trying to play injured victim here. You're fine. A flesh wound, right? You should have stayed on your side of the porch. I can handle my own." I poke his side.  
"Ouch. Be careful with me. I'm fragile." That makes me laugh more than anything. Then I think of Sammy, and how we laughed and laughed whenever Phillip wasn't around. I'm immediately saddened. I can't sit here flirting with Damien when I should be saving my sister.  
"I'm going to bathe real quick. Get this blood off me."

I hike over to the stream we passed on our hike. I undress and throw my bloody clothes onto a dead log. I wade into the water. It's ice cold. I wash myself up as quickly as I can. Every touch, I imagine it's Damien, touching me again. He's amazing. It's a horrible circumstance we are meeting under, but I can see myself with him. Making a home, finally settling down for real. A true family. I've never wanted this before, but now, it's all I can think of.

"Let's go," I say as I return to camp. I throw the bloody clothes into the bed of the truck. "I need to save my sister." We both got serious. I pack the tent, making Damien sit and watch. I slapped him away every time he tried to help me. We climb into the cab of the truck.  
"Make the call," I demand.

#  The Rescue

We drive in silence for the most part. I think back to the short conversation I had with my brother. He didn't even sound like Dimitri anymore. What happened to him? Where did all this hate in his heart come from?  
"Yea," Dimitri had snapped as he answered the phone.  
"We have it," I tell him. "Where's Sammy. Let me talk to her." I put the cell on the speaker phone, so that Jany can hear what's going on.  
"Ja-Jany" Hello?" we hear Sammy whimper. She sounded so weak, so fragile.  
"I'm here, and I promise we're going to get you back safe Sammy, I swear," Jany vows.  
"I didn't even hear him coming Jany, I'm so-"We hear a scream and Dimitri comes back on the line. I look over at Jany, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel. I can see her trying to control the anger inside her.

"Brother, why don't you come back to your camp site? You left all your belongings here," Dimitri says, "Bring the Scepter, you can have the girl. Don't take too long though, or I may follow in your footsteps and use her, like you're using her sister." He disconnects. I'm afraid to look over at Jany. It may have been part of my plan to use her in the beginning, but it's become much more than that.

Before I can even speak, she says,  
"Give me that phone." I hand it to her. She scans the phone log, and hits call.  
"Chief, you're ok?" I hear her say. She doesn't have it on speaker, so I can't tell what's going on. After a few minutes, I hear her tell Chief Niti what happened with Dimitri and then instruct him to meet her at her family home. She disconnects.

"Niti said he left Sammy at his house because he had a call. Shots fired. Some hunter got drunk and shot himself in the foot. He came home very early this morning and realized she was gone. He figured she was just being stubborn like me and had gone home," she explains to me. "He's meeting us at the house, and we can make a plan from there." She's very curt with her words. I sense something is off.  
"It's ok, we'll get her back," I say trying to reassure her. She just stares ahead, silent. I let it go.

The ride back seems to take so much longer than when we had riven it just yesterday. We finally pull up the drive to the Sunderland home. Niti is already there, and he has a man with him. They must be related. I can see a resemblance between them.  
"That's Chiefs' brother Raman," she explains to me. It's like she can read my mind. I have a twinge of jealousy flash through me and I don't know where it's coming from. As we pull to a stop, Niti gets up and approaches her with his head hanging in shame.

"Jany, I'm so sorry. I know I promised to take care of her. I'm sorry. I should have just taken her with me." His voice sounds like he is begging for forgiveness. I feel bad for him. It's my brother's fault, not his.  
"It's ok Niti, we'll get her back. None of us could have known what would happen," she says to him, patting his shoulder.  
"Raman, I'm glad you're here, we need all the help we can get."  
"Did you find Phillip?" Raman asks her.  
"You don't have to worry about him. But Niti, you may want to contact Fort Ann PD and let them know about a cabin fire." She smirks while telling them this.  
"Damien's been shot," she tells them. Looking at me, she says, "Why don't you use the bathroom and finish up that patch job? Mine was rushed." She turns away, as if embarrassed to meet my gaze.

Jany and I had discussed a plan on the ride back. She went inside the home to fill in the Chief and Raman, while I moved the guns and ammo to the Rover. I go in, and headed directly for the bathroom. I open cupboards and drawers until I find some antiseptic and bandages. I pull off the makeshift patch. It pulls on the blood dried to it. Chief comes up behind me.  
"Looks pretty nasty there, we should get you checked out," he says, and turns out of the doorway. He glances back, looking at the gun I have in my pants, looks up at me, and then retreats to the living room. I repatch myself up the best I can. I had brought one of the new shirts in from the truck. I slip it over my bad arm, then over my head. I join them in the living room.

Our plan is to quietly walk into the woods, back to the camp where this all started. Niti and Raman are to follow five minutes after, silently and flank the site. They must get to Sammy while we distract Dimitri. We ride to the path in the Rover. The silence, hanging heavy in the air. No one speaks. We all know what we must do. We're all armed. I've already expressed to them that if it comes to it, I will be the one to kill my brother. I hope it doesn't come to that. Jany pulls the Rover to the side of the road just before the path. We climb out. Everyone checks their ammo, and we file into the woods. Chief and Raman stand at the end of the path as Jany and I start our walk into the darkness. The end of our quest. She has the Scepter hidden in the hooded sweatshirt she had put on.

As we near the camp, I can see the fire. I can hear him, he's ranting about being the man of the family finally. He really has lost it. He's gone insane. We leave our guns hidden on our approach. I know even if he finds them that Jany still has a knife and .22 in her boots. He stops speaking when he sees us.  
"Brother," he shouts, throwing his hands in the air. "Our generation has finally proved to not be pure of heart. You're greed is over coming you," I advise him. I'm trying to stall, to allow the guy's time to move into place.

Dimitri stands between the fire, and my tent. Jany and I circle around the fire towards him.  
"That's far enough." He points his gun at us. "You're wrong brother. I will be glorified. Praised. The hero finally. Throw me your guns. I know you brought them."  
"Show me my sister first. Where's Sammy?" Jany demands. Dimitri just points to a tree right behind the tent. She's tied to it, standing, and her head drooping as if she's asleep. I can see her muscles tense. She's pretending. She must know that something is going to happen. She's ready for action.

I hear a twig snap under foot. One of the guys. Dimitri doesn't seem to have heard it. Or at least he doesn't acknowledge it. I try to get his attention completely away from Sammy. I toss the Ruger in front of him, but to the right, so when he drops to pick it up, his back is turned towards Sammy. I can see Raman, cutting at the ropes she's tied with. Jany catches on to what I'm doing, and waits until he's standing and does the same thing, only farther away. Sammy's free. Sammy and Raman run as fast as they can, and disappear. I hear Niti creeping through the brush behind me. He's moving into place.

Dimitri looks at us.  
"Brother, the Scepter," he says, taking aim with my Ruger, pointing it at Jany, not me. She pulls it out and waves it around.  
"You mean this?" I know she's playing with him. I wish she wouldn't, I can't worry about her sister and keep her safe. He starts to step towards her, she takes a step back.  
"Give me the Scepter woman, or I'll kill your sister," Dimitri commands. He turns towards where he had her, and a look of shock springs to his face.  
"Wha-what? Where is she?" He starts to sporadically shoot towards the area that Raman and Sammy ran to.  
"You've tricked me Brother. You'll pay for this." He rushes towards Jany. As I jump for my gun, she starts running. She runs towards where she knows Niti is. He jumps out of the brush, takes aim at Dimitri, but my brother is faster. He shoots Niti in the gut, and he goes down. I hear a small whine from Jany. I know how much seeing that hurts her, but she runs.

They disappear into the forest. Dimitri gives chase. With my gun in my hand, I turn and follow. It's dark. I walk slow, letting my eyes adjust. I can hear them. I follow in that direction. I trip over something and fall. It's the Scepter. Jany's dropped it. I don't know if on purpose or not. But, I pick it up, and move on. Suddenly a gunshot rings through the night. I can hear them. I follow in that direction. I trip over something and fall. It's the Scepter. Jany's dropped it. I don't know if on purpose or not. But, I pick it up, and move on. Suddenly a gunshot rings through the night. I pick up speed. Running now. Please please, don't be Jany. I come upon a clearing on the edge of the river bank in time to see Dimitri grab a handful of Jany's hair. She's on the ground. She's alive. But in the little moonlight there is I can see blood starting to spread on her side.

Her face remains calm as she struggles to free herself from his grip. I can tell she senses me there. I listen, trying to move when he speaks.  
"Where is it traitorous woman?" he says to her. "How did you turn my brother against me? Maybe I should find out for myself. Apparently you're worth throwing away our families history. We've been bound to kill your family. I intend to follow through. But who says I can't have fun first?" I see him, running his gun down the side of her body. I raise my gun, and take aim.

"Dimitri let her go. She doesn't have it. I do." I yell to him, holding the scepter in my free hand.  
"Brother, are you really willing to throw our family away over this bitch? The traitor blood runs thick in her veins," he shouts back, never letting go of her.  
"I'll give you the scepter for her." I'm just waiting, hoping he moves his gun. I have a shot. I just need to make sure if I take it she will be safe.

#  The Aftermath

Dimitri's hand falls free of my hair, and is pushed by the force of the bullet into the river. I turn and watch his body float away. Damien rushes over and pulls me into him. I know it hurts his shoulder to do so. He pushes me back.  
"You're shot," he says, gently touching my side.  
"It's just a scratch, it grazed me," I tell him. It honestly doesn't hurt. My heart is pounding, with shock, fear, anger. I look over the water. Dimitri's body is gone already. Taken away by the current.  
"Nice shot," I say to him. Damien just bows his head. He hands me the Scepter.   
"I'll meet you back at camp," he says. I leave him on his knees at the edge of the water. Before I disappear into the woods, I look back. I can tell he's hurt by what he's done. I'll give him time.

I rush back, worried about Niti. I get there and see Raman holding Sammy to him. As I turn my gaze down, I see Niti and can immediately tell he's dead. The three of us walk over to the fire and wait for Damien. We weep for Niti. After a while, I start to think I should go back for him, but as I stand, he emerges from the trees. He stops to look at Niti. I run to him. Ignoring the pain shooting through my body, I grab him, pulling him into me and kiss him, long and hard. I had my doubts after hearing Dimitri talk about him using me, after him preventing me from shooting Dimitri the first time. But with all that has happened, I know, I can trust him. I know I love him.

Raman calls in the State Troopers. He explains to them that they had a disturbance call. That Dimitri had been acting crazy and Damien asked for help. He said that Dimitri had shot Niti as they approached, and ran into the woods, where he laid chase, and had to shoot him in self-defense. They claimed the site was now a crime scene. Raman wasn't in any trouble. But we couldn't take any of Damien's things until they released it. The body of Dimitri was never found. Damien had walked up and down the banks looking, trying to find it, the police drug the bottom of the river, and nothing had turned up. Maybe we will never know what happened to him.

A long, long week later, I'm at the bus station. Sammy's standing next to me. As the bus pulls up, we look at each other and smile. I turn back as Damien is stepping off. He comes over, holds me tight.  
"I've missed you more than you will ever know," he says, taking a long whiff of my hair.  
"Mmm." He had gone home to return the Scepter to his family. Being the only male left, they had told him it was his duty to protect it. While he was gone, I had returned to Chicago, quit my job, and packed my apartment. I hated being away from him. I told Sammy it was time to move on with our lives. We had buried Niti yesterday. Close to my mother.

Damien and I were going to travel and she was welcome to come with me this time. She had declined. Seems her and Raman had hit things off in the few days I was gone.  
"You just better be back in time for our wedding." She laughs. The three of us put Damien's bag in the repaired Rover and drove home. Our home now. I look out the window and see the great eagle soaring high. It swoops down, as if saying goodbye. Then flies away.

Sammy has decided to put the house up for sale. Neither of us wanting to live there. There weren't many good memories left there anyways. She was moving in with Raman, and when Damien and I were done traveling we decided to build our own home. A new, fresh start for our new lives together.

#  The Future

A few months later it seems Jany's dream had come true as well. She and I were staying in Rome for a month, on our overseas tour. We spent hours, walking hand in hand by the water, riding in Gondolas, sipping wine. She's lying in bed, naked, wrapped in the scent of sex, and a white satin sheet.  
"What's this?" I asked Jany, picking up a piece of leather off of the room service cart. It was red, like it was smeared with blood.  
"I don't know," she answers from the bed. I look over at her and can only think of crawling back in with her and taking her again. I flip the leather over, and falls from my hand. I watch it as it drops to the floor. I'm too stunned to react.  
"What's wrong? Damien?" With concern, she gets out of bed and pads over to me. She picks up the leather and sees what ha me scared and concerned.  
'BROTHER' was written upon it in blood.

Thanks for reading Mohawk Moon.

You can continue the series in Mohawk Sunrise and then Storm of the Mohawk.

Look for Dimitri's story, coming soon.
About the author

N Kuhn grew up in a small town in Western New York. Having spent her afternoons outside or with a book, she grew up with a love of reading and writing. Her mother and grandmother fully encouraged this in her. Many years later, after a husband and children, she made a promise to her dying grandmother to fulfill her dream of being an author. Her grandmother lived to see N's name in print. This was a turning moment for her. Driven by ambition and a promise made, she has since published several titles including the Mohawk Trilogy, Tucked In, Buffalo Rocker and the Tricks series.

N Kuhn has several other books that will be out later this year. When she's not writing, she is in college for a Business degree, runs her blog, bartends and promotes for other authors. Family and coffee are her two staples in life.

Check her out on facebook. http://www.facebook.com/nkuhnauthor  
Blog: http://nkuhnebooks.blogspot.com  
You can also follow her on twitter @mrsnkuhn

Also by N Kuhn

Tucked In: Lianna

Tucked In: Jessica

Buffalo Rocker: Travis

Buffalo Rocker: Jacob

Parlor Tricks

Bar Tricks

Pole Tricks

Love's Interception

Bare Back

Mohawk Moon

Mohawk Sunrise

Storm of the Mohawk
