him.â The warrior took a single, telling step toward her. âLeave me alone, Tory Kent. Your presence ended my forever sleep and I hate you for it. You had no right!â
He was saying that her coming here had brought him into the present? It was insaneâinsane and yet unshakable.
âThisâthis isnât fair,â she blurted. âPlease, at least tell me your name.â
His features contorted, briefly revealing raw anguish. He glanced upward, and she wondered if he was looking for the eagle. Then, the gesture reluctant, he again settled his attention on her. âYou are not Maklaks. You will not understand.â
But I want to. I need to. âIâll try to pronounce it.â She stumbled through the words, only dimly aware that she was no longer trying to tell him that he couldnât possibly be who he said he was.
âNot that.â He sounded angry. âMy name has meaning the enemy cannot understand.â
The enemy. So thatâs what she was to him. âTry me,â she whispered. âAt least give me something to call you.â
âLoka. I am Loka.â
She took his name into her through her pores. It settled uneasily, a word from another time and culture, part of a proud and defiant people. âLoka.â She still couldnât bring her voice above a whisper. âIs that all?â
âIt is enough.â
Yes, it was. Although the syllables felt harsh on her tongue, she found something solid and right about it. The whites of her great-great-grandfatherâs time had called the Modocs such things as Curly Headed Doctor, Hooker Jim,Captain Jack. Sheâd thought those tags both sad and obscene, was glad this man had escaped the demeaning labels.
âLoka.â His name crawled even farther inside her. âDid your father call you that after you had your vision quest? Is that how those things were done?â
Although sheâd asked as gently as she knew how, his body instantly became tense and hard and remote. âYou know nothing of the Maklaks. How can you stand on our land as if you have a right?â
âIâmâIâm trying to learn.â
âYou cannot! Go. Now!â
But she couldnât. Something as old and permanent as the rocks themselves held her here. âWhy do you hate me?â
âWhy? You are part of the man who put an end to the Maklaks.â
âNo, he didnât!â She felt on the edge of losing self-control and couldnât think how to change that. âYour people killed him. Murdered a man of peace. Thatâs why he was here, donât you understand that? He came to this awful place because his job was to try to put an end to the war. He didnât want any more killing. Do you think he wanted to jeopardize the lives of the young men under him? To be responsible for sons and sweethearts and fathersâhe was doing everything he possibly could to keep things from getting any worse. And what happened? Some hotheadââ
âEnough!â
The single word stripped her of the anger she didnât know she had until heâd unleashed it. Although she wanted to tell him that she hadnât said enough yet and might never fully expel her anger at a good and dedicated manâs untimely death, Loka had leaned closer, and his eyesâhis unbelievable eyesâwere a tunnel to his soul.
âWere you here?â she asked, her voice so calm that it had to belong to someone else. âDid you kill him?â
Chapter 5
S ilence spread between them like a slow-moving river. Tory stared up at this man from the past, thinking not of his role in history, but of the way the sun caressed his ebony hair. His eyes were morning and darkness, danger and challenge, and yet she wanted to experience everything about him. Yesterday sheâd wished she was behind the wheel of a speeding vehicle because, maybe, that would kill the energy eating away at her.
Today he was what
Jade Lee
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