opening my shirt. bad.
If I did say so myself, my breasts weren’t
However, I’d never had a woman this interested in them.
didn’t like it any more than I liked her. “Where did you get that?”
Her eyes sparked; I could have
sworn I saw flames leap in the center of all that black. “Th-the crucifix is--“ “A crucifix can’t stop me,” she sneered and yanked it from my neck, tossing the treasured memento aside. “Hey!”
I tore her amulet off the same way.
The very air seemed to still, yet my hair stirred in an impossible wind. Dreadful One, Ruthie whispered at last, Naye’i. A Naye’i was a Navajo spirit.
I’d heard of them before.
Several puzzle pieces suddenly fit together with a nearly audible click. The woman of smoke backed away, staring at the stone I had recently strung on its own chain rather than continuing to let it share Ruthie’s. “You don’t like my turquoise.”
I sat up.
Her gaze lifted from the necklace to my face.
All I could
see between the narrowed lids was a blaze of orange flame.
isn’t yours.” “I know someone who’d say differently.” toward the blue green gem.
My hand inched
“The someone who gave it to me.
think you call him . . . your son.” As soon as my fingers closed around it, the turquoise went white hot, and the Naye’i snarled like the demon she was, then turned to smoke and disappeared.