Lee Nez Series

Excerpt from BLOOD RETRIBUTION - A Lee Nez Novel

The skinwalker who killed Diane Lopez's partner is Lee and Diane's first target in BLOOD RETRIBUTION, the second Lee Nez novel.

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Hunting skinwalkers at night was risky, but what other choice did a vampire have? As he drove, New Mexico State Police officer Lee Nez glanced at his companion, Diane Lopez, who was being bounced around the inside of the pickup like popcorn in a Dutch oven, struggling to maintain a safe hold on her shotgun.

"Surprise me by trying to miss a bump here and there, will you?" Diane grumbled.

It was close to midnight and they were traveling through an isolated area of the Navajo Nation southwest of Shiprock, near Rattlesnake. "Hey, by Rez standards this is a good road." Complaining or making small-talk was one way of putting up roadblocks against fear and hesitation. But Lee knew that Diane would make the right moves when the time came.

Lee remembered his father, who had been a doughboy in World War I, telling him that the soldiers who claimed not to be afraid were either liars or stupid. The trick was learning how to make fear work for and not against you.

They were hunting a particular Navajo skinwalker--a human witch capable of shapeshifting into a black jaguar. Killing wasn't a possibility--it was a requirement. Skinwalkers were evil by nature and had to be destroyed.

"Getting this woman just isn't going to be enough payback for me."

"I understand. She killed your partner." Lee kept his eyes on the road, swerving to avoid a long, narrow rut. His ability to see clearly in total darkness allowed him to drive without headlights.

"Not very much prey around here for a skinwalker pack, is there? Or do they keep a low profile around their...dens?" Diane asked, doing her best to keep a watch out her side window, despite her lack of nightwalker senses. She'd brought a night vision scope, but if she tried to use it now, she'd probably just end up with a black eye.

"They're very careful not to attract any attention. Other Navajos will shoot them if given the opportunity."

"I hope she'll be in panther form when I see her again. That's the shape she took when she killed my partner and that's what I'd like her to be when I kill her."

"She knows about some of my abilities-I just hope she hasn't had time to share what she's learned with the others," Lee said. "Just remember their scent tracking ability and that they'll be especially tuned in to my nightwalker blood. Since there's a slight breeze coming in from the west, we'll have to stay on the north, south, or east when we make our move." He stopped the SUV and turned off the engine. "Remember, if skinwalkers are out here hunting, all bets are off. We won't be the hunters--we'll be the hunted."

They climbed out of the vehicle and took a long look around, weapons in hand. Lee's rifle was always loaded, but now he made double-sure and flipped off the safety. The black panther they were after weighed at least a hundred and fifty pounds and could be a deadly hunter, especially on a night as dark as this.

Lee saw Diane nod and they set out, crossing a narrow dry arroyo and then walking northeast. Fifteen minutes later they reached their destination, a gray, stuccoed wood framed house with a pitched roof. There was a simple corral constructed of peeled pine logs, and two steel water barrels stood beside the house, but as expected no animals were around. Fifteen feet from the front door was an old Ford pickup.

They moved closer. Suddenly a small dog started barking. Diane raised her shotgun.

"Too small to be a skinwalker. That's the real thing," Lee whispered, lowering his own rifle.

The dog, a black lab cross probably less than six months old had apparently been sleeping under the wooden porch. A light came on inside the house, and then they saw an old Navajo woman standing just inside by the half-opened door. "Who are you? What do you want?" She was wearing a long flannel nightgown and was barefooted.

"Sorry, ahdzah'nih," Lee said using the Navajo word for ma'am as he moved closer and held out his gold shield. "I'm a State Police officer. We were looking for a woman in her twenties or thirties we heard lives here with a man named Darvon Blackhorse."

"He owns this house and has been letting me rent a room. The Navajo police came by looking for him a few days ago, too. But all I know is that my landlord said he was going into the mountains to tend his sheep. Maybe the woman you're looking for went with him. His sheep camp is north of Narbona Pass. I don't know any more than that."

"His cousin, Clarence Atso, is he at here?"

"He comes and goes. I haven't seen him for a week now, maybe more."

"Thanks for the information, ahdzah'nih. Sorry to disturb you. Good night." Lee said, then they began to walk away, back in the direction they'd come.

"Something hinky's going on here," Diane said quietly.

"I know. I just want her and whoever's in the house to think that we're leaving," Lee answered. "We'll come right back from the north. Maybe we can avoid the dog on the replay."

"What about the woman? How does she fit in?"

"My guess is that she's a skinwalker too--and an old, smart one. She could be the alpha female of the pack."

Once they were a few hundred yards from the house they circled around to the north, moving at a fast jog. This time as they crept toward the house, staying low to the ground, the young lab remained silent.

Lee got up close to the window and peered inside. Nobody appeared to be in the first of the two rooms. Diane, who'd looked in the window farther along the wall using her night scope, indicated that the room appeared to be empty, too. There was an outhouse in the back, but the door was open and Lee could see it was unoccupied. They met at the corner of the house to discuss the situation.

"I saw the puppy curled up on the bed, asleep. If any humans are inside, they're in a basement or the attic," Diane whispered.

"The pickup hasn't moved. But they might have taken off--in animal form--while we were circling."

"Then they're stalking us." Diane said quickly and studied the ground. "Oh, crap. Multiple animal tracks."

Lee studied the large impressions, which led down the road. "We'll take the bait," he whispered.

Moving away from the house, they walked beside the road for a while. Lee spotted a set of tracks in the soft earth between the wheel ruts. "They've already split up. We have two sets of tracks heading east and the tracks of one big cat moving right down the road like it knows exactly where it's going. "

"Toward our car," she said. "Those who went east will be able to pick up our scents. Let's pick up the pace and not give them too much time to set up an ambush. How much time do we have?"

"Three hours, until sunrise. I'll have to get out of the light then, but the sun won't fry a skinwalker. All it'll do is force them back into human form. You take the rifle and get on the high ground to the west. That'll give you a little more distance from them, assuming they come at us from the east. Stake out the area around the SUV. I'll stay on the road and hopefully keep their attention on me."

Lee watched Diane sprint off. She was in good shape and light on her feet, but no vampire. He hoped she wouldn't take any chances.

After topping a low hill, he saw their SUV parked in the road where he'd left it. As he got closer, Lee saw a dark shape beneath the vehicle-a crouching black jaguar. At night and hidden in the deep shadows under the car, it would have been virtually invisible to mortal eyes.

The big predator turned its head, looking quickly behind itself, then to both sides. Having spotted him, Lee reasoned, it was searching for some sign of Diane. Suddenly he heard an engine starting up. A vehicle was coming up behind him, its lights out. The jaguar exploded from beneath the SUV, leaping toward him in long, graceful strides.

Lee ducked and, as he brought his shotgun up, a shot rang out from his left. The animal jerked slightly in mid flight but kept coming. Lee fired as the cat reached him, but the shotgun was knocked from his grip by an extended paw.

The black panther hit the ground, blood running down its side from just behind the shoulder, pivoted drunkenly, then growled and attacked again, fangs bared. Lee was drawing his handgun when suddenly the panther swerved away.

Almost simultaneously the old pickup roared over the hill. Lee stood, then leaped straight up as the pickup reached him. He cleared the cab by at least a foot. Landing lightly, Lee turned to locate the panther, just as it came at him again, low this time, targeting his legs.

Lee lowered his pistol. A rifle shot came from somewhere behind and to his right and the panther shook in mid stride. As Lee fired, the creature crashed into him just below the knees, knocking him over. When he hit the ground, he lost his grip on his pistol.

Scrambling to his knees, he grabbed his backup forty-five from his jacket pocket and looked around. The pickup had collided with a big clump of brush before heading into a low, wide, sand filled arroyo, tipping over onto the driver side and coming to rest against the far bank of the wash.

The black cat was motionless in the road. The skinwalker was dead. Lee retrieved his shotgun, automatically pointing the barrel down to clear it of any debris that might have entered the bore. Hearing movement to his left, he turned his head and saw Diane jogging up, rifle in hand.

"Something--a wolf maybe--jumped out of the passenger window and I lost sight of it," Diane muttered, breathing hard. "So much for the skinwalker who killed Agent Thomas," Lee said.

"Burt can rest in peace now," she said, her voice a bit unsteady. "He deserved a better end, but I've evened the scales for him just a little." Sorrow was laced through her words, but she pushed those feelings away. "Let's see who was driving the pickup."

"Okay. Cover my back, and I'll cover yours." Lee walked closer to the cab of the truck and Diane followed, watching behind them.

"It's the old woman. She's still alive and trying to shapeshift so she can heal herself," Lee said, keeping a firm grip on his shotgun.

They stared in amazement as the bloodied face of the woman, resting against the driver's door of the cab, slowly lengthened and formed a muzzle. Dark hair began to sprout from her face, her eyes began to lighten and change shape and her ears began to taper. The shapeshifter howled, throwing her head back and crying out in pain. The creature weaved back and forth drunkenly, then slumped back. The animal features receded quickly and blood flowed from the woman's nose. Her eyes closed and she slowly sank down onto a heap like a discarded rag doll.

"I think she's dead."

"Let's track down the other one." Lee whispered. "It was a wolf, right?"

Diane nodded, keeping her back to the wreck as she looked out into the dark.

"It's out there somewhere, hiding," Lee stood beside her, watching for signs of movement. "If you stay in the open, it'll have to expose itself," Lee said, moving away from the overturned vehicle onto the road. "Take the shotgun, for close range firepower."

"No, you'll need that. I prefer my pistol at close range. I'm more familiar with it." Diane walked out into the middle of the road.

Lee reached into his pocket for a shotgun shell, intending on topping off his weapon, then suddenly realized this was an ideal time for a wolf that thought like a human to strike. A massive ball of fur and muscle shot out from behind the wreck. "Diane!" Lee shouted, bringing the shotgun up--too high.

The growling beast ducked beneath the roar of the flaming barrel and struck directly at his midsection with open jaws. It felt like he'd been jammed in the gut with a log, one equipped with raking fangs. Lee gasped for breath as he doubled over, somehow managing to grab one of the creature's back legs as the shotgun flew away for the second time.

Vampire and skinwalker tumbled to the ground, twisting and turning in a deadly wrestling match. Something snapped at Lee's midsection, and the wolf's grip on his gut eased. The animal had bitten off his belt buckle.

He rolled, trying to grab his pistol. Somewhere close by, Diane was yelling. Lee felt sudden, excruciating pain in his left forearm. The beast had clamped down on his arm with its powerful jaws. Lee doubled up, bringing a knee sharply into the beast's middle. The wolf grunted, but shook its head, digging further into Lee's arm, ripping muscle and tendons.

An explosion went off close by, kicking up dirt, and he heard Diane curse. She's obviously missed a shot to the creature's head.

The wolf snapped at Diane's leg, yanking her to the ground as it snagged cloth--and maybe flesh. Lee took advantage of the sudden release and slid his fingers into his boot, finding the handle of his commando dagger. Diane fired another shot and the wolf yelped, letting go of her leg. Blood spurting from a foreleg, the animal turned back toward Lee, rage in its yellow eyes.

As the creature went for his throat, Lee brought his dagger up in a blur, braced against his upper chest. The animal was impaled at the throat, the dagger going in to the hilt from its own weight and momentum. Diane shot the beast twice in the side of the head and she fell slowly over, twitching just a few times before all movement stopped.

Lee lay there, looking down at his midsection. He'd been raked with the canines, but the wounds were shallow. The large western belt buckle had shielded him. "Good time to be a nightwalker."

"Your forearm looks like crap."

"It's healing already. I'll be fine in fifteen minutes."

"Time to call the tribal police?" Diane asked, her eyes always searching the darkness beside the road.

"Yeah." Lee turned completely around as he took in the area around them once more before moving toward the SUV. "Clarence Atso is still unaccounted for, so we need to make sure that neither he nor the other members of the pack are still around." "I wonder how we should explain what happened tonight." Diane asked, looking back at the wrecked pickup.

"We questioned the woman, then encountered the cat when we returned to our vehicle. We believe she must have let it loose. When it attacked we were forced to shoot it. The woman tried to run me down, but had the accident. The wolf, who'd been riding in the truck, attacked and we killed it. I think that fits the superficial evidence and is basically true. I'll just have to change shirts before anyone else sees me wearing all this dried blood and wonders why I'd not injured. That's why I never leave home without a spare change of clothes in my vehicle."

"That solves a couple of problems. But the Navajo cops are going to be pissed off when they find out we came here without checking in with them first," Diane said. "Do you suppose the crime scene team will be finished before daybreak?" She looked at her watch. It was nearly two am.

"If not, I've got extra sunblock," Lee said, "and will apply it before anyone arrives. But, for now, let me change clothes, then we'll check out the house before the troops arrive."

Less than five minutes later they drove up in front of the small house. The lab puppy was in the front room, barking. Lee left the engine running with the headlights aimed directly into the front window. Anyone inside would have a hard time spotting them in the glare.

A quick search of the house showed them that it was empty. Lee and Diane went through the bedroom thoroughly, looking for anything that would indicate how many people lived in the house. They found women's clothing, coats, and shoes in three different sizes as well as portions of a man's wardrobe. Diane picked up the dog, who came eagerly, licking her hand, and they drove back to the site where the skinwalkers had died.

"Here comes the crime scene team," he said, looking into the darkness ahead. "Get ready for tough questions from some angry-as-hell local cops."

The local sergeant was a prick, and as pissed off as Lee had expected. But finally Lee and Diane were able go home and grab a few hours sleep before reporting to Special Agent in Charge Verne Logan for a debriefing related to their earlier work. SAC Logan, a broad shouldered, pale blond and blue eyed man in his late thirties, motioned them into his cluttered office. Rising from his seat was Lee's supervisor, Lieutenant Richmond. He, like Lee, wore a New Mexico State police's charcoal gray uniform with medium gray accents. Like the SAC, Richmond had light blue eyes, with red hair and a freckled face. "Lee, Agent Lopez," Richmond shook both their hands. "I'd like to commend you two once again on your success in taking down those German terrorists."

"Yes, you two did a great job. I'm in complete agreement with the Lieutenant here," Logan said. "The tribal police chief called with a major beef about your operation last night on the Navajo Nation. According to him, his department didn't even know you were on their jurisdiction until you'd bagged two animals and their keeper."

"They were pissed as hell, according to the brass up in Santa Fe," Richmond added, his Little Texas accent showing. "SAC Logan and I want an explanation--and it better be a damned good one. Why did you choose to make this move on your own initiative, Officer Hawk?" Hawk was the last name of Lee's current identity.

"After Blackhorse's death in Las Cruces, the Navajo P.D. stopped watching his house. We--Agent Lopez and I, figured that made the residence an ideal place for someone to hide that black jaguar. Since Blackhorse's home was in the middle of nowhere, and those cats stalk their prey at night--a time when most Navajos prefer to remain indoors--no one was likely to spot the creature when it was taken out and allowed to hunt."

"Officer Hawk needed back-up and I volunteered. News of an FBI agent on Navajo land travels at lightning speed, so the whole thing had to go down quick and neat. When we saw that someone was living at Blackhorse's old place, we headed back to our vehicle. We were about to contact the Navajo police via radio when we were ambushed."

Logan's telephone rang, and he looked down at it with a scowl. It rang again, and he picked it up. "What, Irene?" He hung up. "Two undercover officers, one a state policeman and the other a Navajo officer, have been found dead of multiple gunshot wounds on the Navajo Nation."

"Could it be connected to the Navajo cult that came after Officer Hawk and Agent Lopez?" Richmond asked. "Might be, or perhaps the shootings are linked to last night's incident, which is why the call came here. The State Police helicopter is on its way for you now, Officer Hawk. You're on this too, Agent Lopez."

## In a little more than an hour the stomach churning ride ended with a quick descent and one last jolt as the helicopter touched down a hundred yards from where several patrol units were parked. The pilot shut down the engine, then turned to Lee. "I'm supposed to stay here and give you a ride back. If I have to leave before you're done, I'll let you know."

"Thanks." Lee climbed down out of the helicopter, enjoying the feel of the ground once again, even if it was dry, dusty, and possibly inhabited by the ghosts of the dead. A sip of calf's blood would go down easy right now and soothe his parched throat but this was definitely the wrong setting.

He turned to help Diane down, but with a distracted smile, she refused his hand.

"I am woman, watch me roar?" he commented.

She brushed past him, taking the lead. "Roar, hell. I bite."

"Me too," he smiled, quickly catching up as they approached a group of officers inside the yellow crime scene tape. It was bright outside, and Lee glanced at his wristwatch, calculating he had at least one safe hour before risk of major sunburn. It was close to noon now.

A young Hispanic man who reminded Lee vaguely of the Cuban actor, Andy Garcia, broke away from the group and stepped up to meet them. His out-of-place gray suit and the expensive sunglasses, the same brand Lee was wearing out of necessity, shouted FBI to any police officer or deputy.

"Agent Lopez, Officer Hawk?" Seeing them nod, he continued. "Please examine the bodies and take a good look at the scene. See if you spot any connection at all to the cases you've been investigating."

Lee stepped under the tape and Diane followed. Almost in unison the other officers, three of them Navajo cops in khaki uniforms, turned to watch. Lee doubted that they'd speak to him or Diane unless absolutely necessary. These weren't the officers they'd met last night, but given the small size of the Tribal Police Force, they probably knew all about it. Local officers everywhere, Lee had observed, resented intrusions on their `turf'.

"Officer, special agent," The Office of the Medical Investigators man, having met Lee and Diane last night, greeted them simply, then lifted the first blanket. The body was that of a tall, slender Anglo man, obviously the state policeman. Lee saw that the officer's shirt was covered with caked, dried blood from several gunshot wounds. Diane pointed to where the blood had run down the victim's side. There was none on the ground below that point.

"He bled out someplace else," she said, looking at the OMI man, who nodded as he lifted the covering from the second body. "This officer, like his companion, was shot with a shotgun and several times with a large caliber handgun--also somewhere else," the OMI man said.

Diane caught the medical investigator's eye. "What was the time of death, approximately?"

"From the state of the bodies I'd say they were killed sometime last night. Twelve hours or less. We had a breeze just before dawn, and the bodies have dust and plant debris on them. I'll have a better estimate later."

Lee didn't see any obvious indication that the two officers had encountered skinwalkers, at least in their animal form, but skinwalkers used guns when in human form if it served them. He found it interesting that both had been out of uniform when killed, an indication they were either off-duty or working undercover.

They searched the ground around the victims, and except for a few unmarked footprints that almost certainly belonged to either the officers on scene or the OMI man, there was nothing obvious. Whoever had dumped the bodies had rubbed out their tracks. Lee looked at Diane. "Are we finished here?"

"Looks like it."

They walked back toward the FBI agent, who asked, "Anything to suggest a connection between these killings and your respective cases?"

"I didn't see anything that would suggest a link." Diane turned to Lee. "Did you?"

"All I can see is that these killings took place elsewhere and the bodies were dumped here. I might have more questions if the bodies had been found in the Grants area or near Fort Wingate, where the terrorists were based. Call us in again if you determine that the shootings took place in one of those areas." He paused, then added. "As far as last night's incident, there are no points of similarity at all."

"Was there any physical evidence on or around the bodies that we should know about?" Diane asked.

"And how were the officers identified?" Lee added.

"Their pockets were empty and all jewelry such as rings and watches were taken. But the tribal officers here recognized their own man, and two of them had seen the state officer before," the agent said.

"Both of the deceased are out of uniform. What can you tell us about their current assignments? Were they working undercover on a case?" Diane asked.

"According to the police chief, they were working together, but I still don't know anything specific about the case. As soon as I get that information, I'll pass it on to you."

Elka Pfeiffer gripped the arm rests of seat C-1 tightly as the 737 bobbed up and down sharply for the third time in a minute. The commercial aircraft was descending rapidly as it approached the western end of the Albuquerque runway. Elka hated flying. Impacts at hundred of miles per hour and explosions of aviation fuel took away the relative invulnerability she enjoyed as a vampire, and she sweated out each flight as if it would be her last. But at the end of this trip, it was someone else who was going to die.

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