, Blue Holly Clan.Elisi , my grandmother, was Panther Clan, like my father. I don't remember anything more."Liar, liar, pants on fire! Can she see the lie?
"My name . . . I don't know. It was just my name." I hesitated. I didn't want to lie to this woman. The People did not lie, even to the white man, who never spoke the truth.
And one never lied, not ever, to an elder, even now, when most young had so little respect for the aged. So I asked a question instead. "The animals . . . What do you think the names meant?"
Aggie stood, lithe and fluid, her body belying her age, which was somewhere past fifty, if I guessed right. "I don't know," she said. "I will ask my mother. Come. It is time to go. And it is too late for me to take you to water today."
There was something in her voice that led me to think she skirted the truth with careful words, either to keep truth from me because she feared it, or because she feared me. Or perhaps because she didn't know what she wanted to say. But she didn't look at me. Not once.
I followed her into the sunlight, which was blinding, the air after the hurricane clear, the sky almost as blue as home, in the mountains of the Appalachians, the mountains of the People.
Aggie stripped and turned on a spigot I hadn't noticed, high on the wall. Water shot out and she rinsed, her skin pebbling from the cold. I kept my head turned, and when she was done and stepped away, Aggie kept her head turned as well, each of us offering the other privacy in a very public bathing. There were no towels, and we blotted off on the sweat-soaked robes before pulling our clothes on over wet bodies. Aggie gathered up our dirty robes in a bundle under one arm and gestured to the lawn, away from the sweat lodge. I plaited my hair in a single long braid as we walked, and let it hang, wet and dripping, down my back.
Silent, we crossed the yard to Bitsa. I stopped at my bike. Aggie came around to the other side and paused, her eyes on the bike. "Lisi," I said, searching for formal words, proper words, to bring the truth from her. "Your heart is heavy. May I . . . share your burden?" That felt right.
She shook her head, eyes on the bike. "I am not burdened, daughter. I will call when I have a clearer understanding."
And I would have to be satisfied with that. "Thank you,Egini Agayvlge i . I will wait to hear your counsel."
Aggie nodded, and a slight smile crossed her face. "I wish my own children would be half so respectful." She turned and went to the small house, opened the door, and went inside, closing the door behind her.
I helmeted up and took the long road back to the house I lived in until my contract was over.
When I got home, a car was idling at the front door. A man stood on the front porch, his jeans tight, the long sleeves of a button-down shirt rolled up to reveal tanned, fit arms. It was Bruiser, aka George Dumas, Leo's first human blood-servant, and his second in command, his muscle and security. My heart rate sped up just a bit. Six-four, weightlifter but not to bulging excess, brown eyes and hair. Clean-looking with a primo sculpted nose, long and sort of bony. I had a thing about noses and really liked his. In fact I liked almost every thing abut Bruiser, and so did my Beast. He hadn't been around when Leo came visiting last night. Had he known about the attack?
Bruiser swiveled like a dancer at the sound of Bitsa. His expression was solemn and he didn't smile when he saw me. That couldn't be good. I nodded stiffly, glad my face was hidden behind the face shield. Pulling Bitsa to the side and through the gate, out of sight, I locked the gate behind me. The ward was still on, and when I entered the house, a tingle buzzed against my skin, rough, like sandpaper, if sandpaper could hold an electric charge.
Molly met me at the bottom of the stairs, wearing wide-legged capris, a tee, and sandals.
Energy fairly radiated off her body. "Do we let him in?" she asked, waiting for me to make the decision on security.
"Hi, Aunt Jane," Angelina