CHAPTER 6
KELSA TOOK THE ROAD NORTH by herself, fuming.
How dare they keep the power of the leys a secret when it could have saved not only her father, but hundreds, thousands, millions of human lives?
Raven had finally snapped that if his people had told humans about the leys, they would probably have treated them like the rest of this world’s resources, and the leys would have been damaged beyond repair long since!
That was when Kelsa had mounted her bike and sped off without him. She was too angry to bother with breakfast. When she saw the sign for the Woodland Café, it was past lunchtime and she was starving. The café was one of those rambling log-built structures that were still common in the mountains, despite the energy efficiency of plasticrete.
The dining room held the usual booths and an old-fashioned counter for people who didn’t mind eating in front of the waitress. Kelsa took the Seat Yourself sign at its word and claimed a booth next to one of the windows. It wasn’t as if the place was full. The only other customers were a pair of senior citizens, who’d doubtless come from the motor home Kelsa had parked next to, and a burly man at the counter who probably drove one of the trucks that were parked on the shoulder of the road.
She would go on healing the ley, Kelsa decided. But she was doing it to stop the tree plague and save her own planet. To hell with the shapeshifters!
One of the two waitresses offered Kelsa a bright smile and a menu, and she recovered her temper enough to smile back. She might be planning how to use that Raven creep for her own purposes—even more than he was using her!—but she still had to eat.
She was weighing the merits of a superburrito against a double-lean cheeseburger and salad when the bikers pulled up and parked outside.
There were five of them, all dressed in the dark, fiber-reinforced jackets and pants that serious bikers wore. Much the same pants Kelsa was wearing, though she’d left her jacket strapped on the back of the bike.
Some college kids, out for a summer adventure, assumed the same dark clothes and ragged-cut hair as the legally homeless biker gangs. They hoped to be mistaken for kids who were tough and lawless, though they didn’t do tough, lawless things like fight for routes with rival gangs and buy and distribute illegal drugs.
The elderly couple with the motor home might well be legally homeless too. It was a class of citizens that lumped together everyone who didn’t pay taxes from a fixed place of residence. The majority of the legally homeless were either retired travelers or college-age kids taking a year or two off to have fun before settling into a job.
But something about the young men who strode into the café made the back of Kelsa’s neck prickle in primitive warning.
One of them, a boy with reddish brown hair and freckles who was probably only a few years older than she was, met her eyes. Kelsa looked down and away.
She’d just eat lunch and ignore them. It wasn’t necessary to suddenly regret that Raven wasn’t with her—though if he had been, she could have told him what she thought of people who held back vital information! Information that could save…
The bikers seated themselves at another booth, between Kelsa and the door. The waitress brought them menus and water before coming to take Kelsa’s order.
She wasn’t as hungry now, but that was foolish. She was in a restaurant full of people. She ordered the burger.
The bikers placed their order shortly before she was served. Since Kelsa was facing them, she could see that they cast several glances in her direction, distracting her from her angry thoughts. Another retired couple parked a motor home and came in. After a single glance at the four bikers, they took a table on the other side of the room. The first couple ordered dessert.
Kelsa finished her burger, took two bites of the salad, and decided she was ready to move on. The bikers had been served only a few minutes ago. She had to pass them on her way to the register.
“That your bike?” the redhead asked as she went by.
“Yes.” Kelsa kept walking. She could feel the bikers’ eyes on her back.
The redhead stood and followed her.
Her heart beat faster. She wouldn’t have minded seeing Raven walk through the café door. Anytime now.
“It’s a nice little bike,” the young man told her. “We were thinking you might want to ride with us for a while.”
Kelsa’s hands were cold, her shoulders knotted with tension. “I can’t. I’m meeting up with my father and some of his friends. They should be here any minute.”
She approached the register and handed her receipt to the waitress.
“You should come a ways with us, anyway,” the biker said. “We’d give you one hell of a ride.” His eyes moved over her like hands.
Two of the others had risen as well, moving behind him to stand in the doorway. Raven wasn’t coming.
“I’d like to speak to the manager, please,” Kelsa told the waitress.
“Was everything all right with your meal?” the woman asked.
Couldn’t she see how this creep was pushing Kelsa? The woman’s expression held only professional concern.
“No.” Kelsa was too frightened to care about looking like an idiot. “I want to speak to the manager. Now.”
“Excellent,” said the waitress. “That’ll be eleven eighty-five.” She pushed the scanner forward.
“I want the manager.”
The waitress smiled politely, waiting for Kelsa to swipe her account card.
Kelsa looked around. The two retired couples chatted with each other, oblivious. One of the bikers was still eating, but he was watching her. The other two had staked out the door.
The second waitress set a plate in front of the trucker—though he’d been there when Kelsa came in. He picked up a small carafe of syrup, unscrewed the lid, and dumped the entire contents over his pancakes.
Then he looked up at Kelsa. His eyes were deep brown and had no whites around them. The eyes of an animal.
He was one of them.
Adrenaline slammed through her. This was the trap Raven had warned her about. But how? Never mind. Try!
Kelsa drew in a breath and screamed at the top of her lungs.
The biker behind her fell back several steps, but the woman in front of her didn’t even blink. The elderly couples continued their conversations without missing a beat. The other waitress glanced out the window for a moment, before going to clear Kelsa’s table.
The trucker stared at her with indifferent eyes and shoveled a forkful of pancakes into his mouth.
The red-haired biker had been looking around too and seen the same thing she had. Now he looked back at Kelsa and grinned.
She leaped past the register, past the oblivious waitress, and dashed through the open doorway into the steamy, onion-smelling kitchen.
The redheaded biker strode after her.
Kelsa looked for a weapon. Not a knife. There were too many enemies, all stronger than she was. She headed for the stove, past a pudgy, white-clad chef who didn’t even look at her, snatched up the nearest pan and cast the contents into the biker’s face.
It was in the air before the deadly reality of hot grease and frying onion registered on either of them.
The biker flung up a hand, his leather sleeve intercepting most of the grease, but not all of it. He cried out when it splattered his skin, then screamed in earnest as the pain bit.
The two who’d blocked the door had followed more slowly; now they rushed down the narrow kitchen.
Kelsa had a second to choose her next weapon, a big pot of steaming chowder that drenched them both. They shrieked and swiped at their faces.
The red-haired biker staggered toward the sink, emitting groaning pants of pain.
Kelsa whirled and ran for the back door. There was a back door, thank God. She raced outside and looked frantically for help, for a place to hide.
Her bike came skidding around the corner, with Raven riding it, though he took the turn so clumsily he almost tipped over.
“On the back. Get back,” Kelsa cried, running toward him.
He stopped the bike, spreading his feet to keep it upright as he slid back on the saddle.
Then she was there, mounting, the handle grips firm and comforting under her palms. Her right hand stung with a burn she’d picked up without realizing it, but she paid it no heed, spinning gravel from under the tires as she slammed down the accelerator.
She raced down the road as fast as the dirt bike would run—the big hogs the bikers rode would be much faster.
She was hoping to trip a speed sensor—s he wanted the police!
Although … What had happened to those people? It was as if she was invisible. Except for the trucker, or whatever he really was.
She shuddered at the memory of the indifference in those round, animal eyes.
***
She passed four side roads before turning onto the fifth, and she rode down it for several miles before pulling off into a thick glade where she should be safe—if the bikers were all she had to fear.
“You said they couldn’t attack me!”
Raven’s grip on her waist changed to a comforting embrace as the bike slowed to a stop, but Kelsa was too tense, too terrified for comfort. She knocked down the stand and leaped off the bike, out of his arms. She took off her helmet and threw it at him.
“Where the hell were you? You said they couldn’t attack me. And why … What in the…”
She was crying. She’d been crying for some time. She pulled out a tissue and wiped away the snot and tears.
“I’m sorry,” Raven said. “I didn’t think they could get here, and get anything set up so quickly. But that’s no excuse.”
His shirt was fastened with two buttons, and he hadn’t taken the time to put on his shoes. He hadn’t had time to put on his shoes.
A wave of shivering swept over her, and her stomach began to churn. Kelsa wrapped her arms around herself.
“One of them was a shapeshifter. At least one. Were they all your enemies, in that restaurant?”
“No,” Raven told her. “The bikers who went after you had to be human, according to the rules, and I’d bet most of the others were human as well. Describe the shapeshifter you saw.”
“He was big.” She could see him clearly in her memory, see more details than she’d noticed at the time. “Big, with shaggy brown hair, and hair on his arms and hands. His eyes were all dark, like a pig’s or a dog’s. Like brown marbles. He … he poured a whole pot of syrup over his pancakes.”
It sounded silly, but somehow that seemed more alien than all the rest. She shivered again and began to pace.
“That was Bear,” Raven said. “He’s not an enemy, he’s one of the neutrals. He was probably there to observe, to make sure no one on either side broke the rules.”
“Killing me isn’t against the rules?” Or had they intended to rape her? Or both? Kelsa shuddered.
“No.” Raven’s voice was gentle. “Not if they use the tools of this world to do it.”
The need to think, to understand what he was saying, slowed her racing heart. Her furious pacing slowed too.
“So the bikers, they were human?”
“Yes.”
“And the rest of those people … What was the matter with them? It was like I wasn’t even there!”
That had been one of the most terrifying parts of it. Not the most terrifying.
Raven sighed. “It takes power. It takes power, concentration, and skill, but it’s not impossible to cloud human minds. To make them see what they expect to see. Hear what they expect to hear.” He snorted. “You sometimes do that without any help from us.”
“And those bikers? They were just doing something expected?”
“Ah, that’s a bit different. With them the … molder, call it, found a spark of desire to act that way and fanned it. Suppressed their inhibitions, the fear of the consequences that would ordinarily have stopped them.”
“So anyone I meet could suddenly attack me?”
“Not really. Not unless it’s something they might do anyway. It’s all but impossible to force something to go against its nature, against its own will. It’s only if the will to act is already there that you can use it.”
The thought that dawned then was so horrible it froze Kelsa in her tracks.
“Have you been manipulating me that way?”
“No,” Raven told her. “I haven’t. Even if I could, it would be against the rules. And the healing of the ley wouldn’t work without your uncorrupted will behind it. Of course, you only have my word that those things are true.”
He said nothing more, watching her with wary dark eyes. Human-looking eyes. He had lied to her, by omission at least, many times. And she’d certainly been acting strangely this last week! But the decisions she’d made felt like her decisions. He was using her for his own ends. But he’d never made any pretense of anything else, not from the start.
And she had her own world to save.
Kelsa took a deep breath and let it out. “OK. So how do I protect myself between here and Alaska?”
Trickster's Girl: The Raven Duet Book #1
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