“Once I am completely bonded to my mate, they can’t touch you. There’s powerful magic in the bond.
It’s not just a civil agreement, like marriage. No Changer will dare touch another’s mate on pain of death. Changers bond only once, and after that, never again. There is no divorce, no remarriage. If you bond with me it will be forever. For both of us.”
“If I bond with you?” she repeated. “You’re giving me a choice?” He was standing toe-to-toe with her, his arms like strong wings on her back. “If you don’t want to complete the bond with me, I’ll go, draw them away from you.”
“But if you leave, is that any guarantee they won’t find me and try to eliminate me anyway?” His mouth turned down. “No, it’s no guarantee. I’m sorry, Naomi. If I’d known all this three years ago, I never would have moved in with you. I’d never even have asked you to have coffee with me.”
“That would have been a shame,” Naomi said softly.
“But you’d be safe now. You wouldn’t have to know any of this.”
“I wouldn’t have known happiness, either. Or what it was like to truly fall in love.” Jamison said nothing, but his eyes filled with anguish. “I think when I met you, the Changer in me started to bond to you at once.”
Naomi had felt it too, she realized now. When Jamison had come home with her the night she’d met him, and they’d made love in the white moonlight, she’d known that she’d waited all her life for this man. A man with midnight-dark eyes and a warm, liquid voice.
Having him quietly move in and start helping her at the garden center had seemed so natural. They’d started driving up to Chinle every other weekend to visit his mom and sister and his vast extended family. They were warm, calm people, like Jamison, and they’d instantly absorbed her into their ranks.
She’d feared that they would be angry at Jamison for pairing himself with a white woman, but their attitude seemed to be that if Jamison liked her, she must be all right.
Only Jamison’s grandfather hadn’t been enchanted with Naomi. He spoke little to her, sometimes pretending she wasn’t in the same room with him. Jamison had told her not to worry about it, but Naomi hated that the most respected member of Jamison’s family didn’t like her. She felt like she’d failed Jamison in some way, though Jamison hadn’t understood that when she’d told him. “Grandfather has always been difficult,” Jamison had said.
Naomi smiled a little. “So great sex is not enough to complete the bond?” Jamison grinned back. “There’s a ritual Changers have to follow to bond to their mates. I’ve heard of a shaman up in the White Mountains, an Apache, who can do it. If you’re willing, we’ll go see him tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve. I have to take Julie to the Ghost Train.”
“We’ll be back long before the celebration starts.”
“Why not a Navajo shaman? Aren’t there several in your family, not to mention your grandfather?”
“This Apache is a Changer, one of the ones who managed to sync with the rest of the world.” Naomi frowned. “If he’s a Changer, why didn’t Coyote send you to him instead of driving you to Mexico to be locked in a cage for two years?”
Jamison blew out his breath. “You know, I don’t know.” He smiled, his warm, to-die-for smile. “Come with me tomorrow, and we’ll find out. That is, if you’re willing.” Naomi clenched her jaw. “Don’t worry. I don’t think I want to let you out of my sight again.” Jamison leaned down and kissed her. “I’ll make sure you don’t regret it, love. I promise you.” Jamison told Naomi that Julie should be taken somewhere safe for the day, because it would be too dangerous for her to accompany them. Naomi, her heart squeezing, agreed. Julie didn’t want to be left behind, but on the other hand, she viewed staying with Naomi’s old high school friend, Nicole, in Flagstaff and playing with her kids as a fun vacation. Nicole would bring Julie back to Magellan tonight for the Ghost Train, and hopefully by then this bonding thing would protect Julie too.
It was midmorning by the time Naomi drove with Jamison out of Flag and along the 87 up into the mountains. An hour later, Naomi turned onto the winding highway that rolled across the top of the Mogollon Rim and into the White Mountains.
It had been cold in Magellan and snowy in Flagstaff, but up here, winter had settled in hard. Glittering drifts piled on either side of the plowed highways, and the tall ponderosa pines were mantled in snow.
Naomi loved the beauty of it, though part of her looked forward to spending a balmy Christmas day under the palm trees with her folks in Tucson. She wondered briefly what her parents would say when she brought Jamison with her and told them he was back in her life. She glanced at Jamison, who lounged comfortably beside her, sunglasses shielding his eyes from the glare of sun on snow. Her parents would be delighted. Jamison charmed everyone.
They stopped in the Apache community of Hon Dah for hot coffee, and Jamison asked a convenience store clerk if he knew a shaman called Alex Clay.
Naomi wasn’t really surprised when the Apache man grinned and said, “Hey, Jamison. How’ve you been?”
He and Jamison talked about mutual acquaintances and family members for a moment, then the man continued.
“Yeah, I know old Alex. He lives down by Whiteriver. I’m not sure exactly where. He’s a crazy old man, though.” The clerk mimed lifting a bottle and drinking.
“Thanks.” Jamison paid for the coffees and held a steaming cup to Naomi. “If anyone else asks about him, you never saw me.”
The man flashed a sunny smile. “Sure. I don’t gossip.”
“Like hell he doesn’t,” Jamison said under his breath as they climbed back into Naomi’s truck. “But he doesn’t like strangers and won’t tell them anything.”
“Where to now?” Naomi asked as she put the truck in gear.
“We go to Whiteriver and ask around.”
She gave him a dark look. “So this Alex Clay doesn’t have an address?”