freshly opened bottles from Kahni and distribute them at the table.
One of the Hawaiians, heavyset with traditional tattoos down one side of his torso and leg, his hair shaved close to his skull as if he’d watched one too many videos with The Rock, eyed Daniel from under his brows. “Heard Apana was into some cash lately,” he said to no one in particular.
The two other Hawaiians looked at Daniel and then away. Kimo scratched his head; Tommy jigged his leg nervously. “Hey, Wayne, go easy,” he mumbled.
“I heard that,” Daniel said. “I dunno. Maybe some local-grown stuff, yeah?”
Wayne shook his bald head. “Nah. No locals trust Apana to keep his mouth shut.” He looked Daniel over. “Whatchu doin’ hangin’ wit him? You a Ho’omalu, yeah?”
As the other men’s gazes sharpened, Daniel shrugged again. So much for blending in—this island wasn’t that big. “Our mothers went to school together. My ma says to me, ‘You look after Nellie’s boy.’ So I check on him once in a while, help him work on his boat. But you can’t keep a kanaka outta trouble if he’s lookin’ for it, yeah? I ain’t no fuckin’ nanny.”
The other men eyed him, and Kimo laughed. “Chee, whassup wit dat? Bet all dem haoles would hire you to watch dere keikis, you so sweet lookin’.”
Daniel bared his teeth obligingly.
“How ’bout me?” Tommy demanded. “I’m sweet as a pineapple.”
Wayne ignored him, staring broodingly into his beer.
Daniel exchanged a few more pleasantries and then slid from his barstool. “Night, fellas. See you around.”
He sauntered out into the warm dusk and around the back of his truck, taking his time. He didn’t have long to wait. Wayne strode out of the bar and looked around, his head swiveling on his thick neck until he saw Daniel standing by his truck. He walked over, his footsteps crunching on the lava rubble of the parking lot. He was puffing himself up, trying to look badass.
“Dat Apana, he wasn’t so tough,” he said. “I am.”
Daniel regarded him. The palm fronds overhead swayed in the night breeze, flicking shadows over Wayne’s glistening face. Hostility poured off the other man in waves, from his bull-like stance to the way he flexed his big hands into fists. He looked like he worked with those hands and spent time pumping iron too, but Daniel knew he could take the moke. He was bigger, more powerful, and had his ho’omalu power as well. But he wasn’t fighting for no reason.
“You a friend of Apana’s?” he asked.
“Maybe I just don’t want you coming round here.”
Daniel eyed him across his truck bed. “That’d be your problem. I don’t wanna beef, but I go where I want.”
Wayne glared at him. “Well, you stay away from Kahni, or you get a beef, wit me.” Then he turned and swaggered into the bar.
Daniel swung into his truck and started the engine. He shook his head. So that was it—Wayne was after Kahni, probably her date tonight. Well, he and Kahni had never been exclusive. And Daniel was both relieved and pissed off. He wouldn’t have minded pounding Wayne into the gravel, blowing off some of his tension. On the other hand, he was glad to know the guy wasn’t involved in Apana’s mess.
But he still didn’t know if any more locals were involved with the people who’d hired Apana. Kimo and Tommy had acted nervous when Wayne mentioned Apana. Was it because they knew what Apana had been up to or because they were also involved?
That night, as Claire got ready for bed in the hotel room, she thought of all the things she’d learned about the Ho’omalus. They were true natives, steeped in the tradition of this beautiful place.
And tomorrow night, she’d watch Daniel Ho’omalu dance. Wow.
Perhaps it was no surprise that she dreamt of him. But the dream itself was like an island fantasy.
She stood on the beach, lit only by the moonlight and the tiki torches flickering in their stands. Daniel Ho’omalu stood in a huge
Andreas J. Köstenberger, Charles L Quarles
Rachel Shane
L.L. Collins
Esther E. Schmidt
Henry Porter
Ella Grey
Toni McGee Causey
Judy Christenberry
Elle Saint James
Christina Phillips