Shadow Surrender
Linda Conrad
Miniseries: Night Guardians
Silhouette Romantic Suspense
March 2007
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Navajo medicine man Lucas Tso had a special gift—psychic powers, coupled with vivid dreams about a mysterious woman. But when he came face-to-face with her, he wasn’t prepared for the feelings that stirred within him. FBI agent Teal Benaly was investigating a murder on the reservation, and Lucas wanted to protect her from the evil shapeshifters that had declared war on the Navajo people. Dark forces tempted him to their side, and he’d need Teal’s help—and her love—to keep him alive.
Read an Excerpt from: SHADOW SURRENDER
The Four-Corners reservation hung suspended in the bluish-lavender twilight that only comes to high desert in early fall. Winds blew down canyons and across bloodred spires of sandstone, spreading the scents of sage, cedar and the pungent odors of smoke and musk.
Special Agent Teal Benaly’s nose itched as some-thing light and gossamer blew past her face. She never allowed herself to be struck by flights of fancy, most things were easier to deal with in terms of black or white. But when a feather’s shades of sand and desert gray had caught her eye, even in the low light of dusk, it seemed like a kind of message. She dropped one hand from the shale-rock ledge and bent to pick it up.
Drawing the softness of feathers across her cheek while she stared off into space, Teal let herself forget for the moment the potential dangers of Many Caves Canyon. Instead of thinking about business, her thoughts turned to birds. She’d both heard them calling and seen a few in flight earlier. But why had this par-ticular feather got caught on the breeze and managed to glide by her nose right then? It seemed a strange thing to happen in the stillness of twilight.
There were so many things about her birth home in Navajoland that currently confused and confounded her. Of course, even as a child she hadn’t known a damn thing about birds. She’d grown up a city Navajo.
The fingers of her left hand were still gripping the ledge to keep herself from sliding down the one-hundred-foot drop-off. However, she imagined it might be smart to start paying greater attention to her surroundings. Teal stuffed the feather into the back pocket of her heavy khaki pants then grabbed for the granite outcropping with her free hand and held tight with both hands. It was clear, even to a city Navajo, how easy it might be to fall down this steep path and break her neck.
But there was a job to do here. So she kept moving. The call to check out an abandoned truck at the bottom of a ravine had come too late in the afternoon for her to arrive before sunset. She had no idea why a tribal police officer hadn’t been sent to check it out instead of the newest FBI special agent.
Damn her superiors in Washington, anyway. They knew the last station she’d wanted to be assigned to right out of training at Quantico was the Navajo res-ervation. Just because she spoke the language—a little.
And looked like she belonged here—sort of. It was still not fair to post her to a field office in the one place in the entire world that she hated most.
Taking a breath, she reminded herself she’d been brought here to the reservation at the Navajo Nation’s request. The Bureau had sent her in to work on a special joint tribal and FBI operation.
It had been an honor to be given such an important assignment right out of training. But she couldn’t imagine that an old abandoned truck would have anything to do with her job.
Nevertheless. She had been sent to check out the truck, and check it out she would. Thank goodness a three-quarter moon would soon be helping to light her way.
As she stood in the growing shadows, straighten-ing her jacket and checking her holstered weapon, something brushed her cheek. Holy hell. Looking around, she saw nothing in the deepening dusk.
It happened again. Cripes. She let out a shriek and reached for her Glock, but never managed to get the weapon out of its holster.
All of a sudden, small dark flying things were zipping past her from all sides. Oh. My. God.
Bats.
Swiping wildly at the air around her head, trying to keep them away from her face, Teal took both hands off the ledge. And immediately regretted the move.
The rocks under her feet began to slide—a little bit at first. Then the good rubber soles of her shoes refused to catch hold against the sharp granite surfaces, even as she was trying desperately to keep her balance.
In the end, she landed hard on her butt and began a free-fall slide downhill that would’ve scared her to death—if she’d had a moment to actually think about it.
Wasn’t this the time when her whole life was supposed to flash in front of her eyes? Except—right now her eyes were squeezed shut and she was scream-ing loud enough to keep the images, the fear, and the bats, far, far away.
Lucas Tso heard the woman screaming and looked around. Where was she? Close. But where?
He wasn’t surprised at the high-pitched call for help. After all, that was why he was out here in Many Caves Canyon after sunset.
The Bird People had given him a warning. And he had come, because for days he’d been dreaming about saving a woman. A dark-haired and dark-eyed woman whose face was never clear in his dreams. He’d had many dreams over his lifetime. But never before had the circumstance seemed so urgent or had the person been so unfocused.
Above him—that’s where the screams were coming from. If he climbed the shale path fast enough, he should make it in time to intercept her fall.
He moved quickly past red sandstone boulders and around granite obstacles. The shale was slick and slippery, but he dug his moccasins deep into the rocks and pumped his legs to climb even faster.
Who was she? Could she have anything to do with the secret Skinwalker war that had been going on in Dinetah over the last few years?
Was she one of them? Or one of their victims? The Bird People were allies of the Brotherhood in this war. Lucas knew they would never deliberately lead him into a trap. But this was so different from a normal attack.
Time enough later to ponder the significance of the dreams and of the woman. For now he had to first find her, then figure out how to save her.
Looking upward through the moonlight, he spotted a flash of light-colored clothing as it careened down the path toward him. A few more yards and he would be in position to stop her fall.
He steeled himself for the jolt, and began chanting a medicine man prayer that he would make it there headed right over the edge of the cliff.
Teal was trying in vain to stop her fall. She jammed her heels into the path but only succeeded in rolling herself over and totally losing control.
She raised her arms in front of her face to shield her eyes from the pointy rocks. If she had been religious, this would have been a good time to pray, but she had no idea how.
Her clothes were already being ripped by the knife-sharp rocks, and her face and hands were bruised and bleeding. What would happen to the rest of her skin if her clothes completely shredded and fell away before the fall came to a stop?
This downward tumble had to end. Now. Teal braced herself to put one last desperate effort into stopping.
Then, miraculously, it was over. But how? “Can you stand? Is anything broken?”
Who said that? Uh-oh.
Scrambling to her feet, she was suddenly much less worried about broken bones and bleeding skin than she was about facing a deep-voiced stranger in the shad-ows of this canyon wilderness. Damn.
But when she finally found herself upright, her head was swimming and she reached out blindly to steady herself. Strong arms loomed out from the darkness to give her support.
Still slightly scared, over both her brush with death and the spooky guy who’d come to her rescue, she nonetheless felt relieved to be alive and apparently safe. Teal began taking long breaths and fought for control. At the same time, she reviewed her physical state. Nothing seemed to be broken. But everything hurt.
“You will be sore for quite a while, I’m afraid,” said the deep-voiced shadow beside her as if he’d read her thoughts. “But if nothing’s broken, I think I may be able to help with the cuts and scrapes. Will you let me try?”
“What?” She eased away and peered at his face.
“Who the hell are you? And why did you happen to be out here at the right place at the exact right moment?”
For a few seconds there was dead silence. It was enough time for a first-in-her-class sharpshooter to draw her weapon from its holster under her ripped jacket.
“Don’t move,” she demanded as she pointed the Glock in his direction. “And answer my question.”
The outline of the man stilled. “My name is Lucas Tso. I am of the Big Medicine People, born for the Bitter Water Clan. I’m a native artisan, specializing in Navajo designs, and a medicine man who can help you with your injuries. I have no weapons and no bad intentions. There is no need for the gun.”
“Don’t make any sudden moves,” she warned. “I’m FBI Special Agent Teal Benaly. I’ll show you my ID—right after I check out your story.”
“You intend to frisk me, Special Agent?” he asked, reading her mind again.
She could hear the smile in his voice and it added to her irritation. “Turn around, hands against the ledge and spread your legs.”
“Yes, ma’am. But I must warn you to be careful on the rocks. They’re very slippery.”
“Yeah, I got that, thanks.”
He turned around. After temporarily sliding her weapon into the waistband of her slacks, she moved one leg between his two to stop him from running, exactly as she had been taught. This would be her first chance to do in real life what they’d practiced.
The man was taller than she was. She guessed he was six-two to her five-eight. But she could trip him up if she kept her leg positioned just right.
That was the method she’d learned. But her training had not included the frisson of electricity that jolted through her the minute she touched the guy.
Jeez. What the hell was that all about?
Biting down on the inside of her cheek to keep from actually moaning aloud at the unusual and pleasurable to work. She checked his jacket pockets and came up empty.
were totally out of line, and seemed rather ridiculous considering only a minute ago she’d been so fright-ened. Maybe her brain and gut had scrambled in the fall.
She reached under his jacket and began patting him down. Oh, God. Her breath hitched in her throat.
