Stevie Rae sighed. She knew exactly how Z felt.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lenobia sniffed the air. Mixed with sawdust, leather, sweet feed, and horse was something else—something smoky and vaguely familiar. She gave Mujaji—her favorite mare, a solid black quarter horse—a final stroke of the soft curry brush and, following her nose, left the stall. She turned down the long, wide hallway that was lined on either side with roomy stalls. Her nose led her exactly where she’d expected it to—the big foaling stall that was near the tack room. Moving quietly Lenobia told herself she wasn’t really sneaking up on him. She was just being sure she didn’t spook his mare.
Travis’s back was to her. The cowboy was standing in the middle of the stall. In one hand he was holding a thick, smoking stick of dried herbs. His other hand was passing through the light-colored smoke, wafting it around and over him. Bonnie, his big Percheron mare, was standing in front of him, dozing with one leg cocked. She only twitched an ear slightly when he moved to her and passed the smoking herb all along the outline of her very large body. He went from Bonnie to the cot he’d set up for himself in the far corner of the stall, giving it the same smoke-out treatment he’d given the mare and himself. It was only as he began to turn from the cot that Lenobia stepped back out of his view. Pondering what she’d seen, Lenobia went out the side door of the stable and walked a few feet to a bench where she sat, breathed in the stillness of the cool night, and tried to sift through her thoughts.
The cowboy had been burning sage. Actually, Lenobia was pretty sure from the scent that it had been white sage.
Human behavior? What did she know of it? She’d had only the most perfunctory contact with them for … Lenobia considered twisting the slim gold band that held the heart-shaped emerald around and around the ring finger of her left hand. She knew exactly how long it had been since she’d been close to a human, specifically a human man—two hundred and twenty-three years.
Lenobia looked down at her ring finger. There wasn’t much light. Dawn was just beginning to turn the sky from black to blue-gray, and she could almost see the pure green of the emerald. In this light its beauty was illusive, shadowy—like memories of faces from her past.
Lenobia didn’t like to think of those faces. She’d learned long ago to live in the here and now. Today was struggle enough. She looked to the east and squinted against the growing light. “Today is also happiness enough. Horses and happiness. Horses and happiness.” Lenobia repeated the three words that had been her mantra for more than two hundred years. “Horses and happiness…”
“The two have always gone together for me.”
Even as Lenobia’s brain processed that it was the human cowboy who had spoken, and not some dire threat, her body was whirling around and crouching defensively—and there came the shrill scream of a mare’s battle cry from within the stable.
“Whoa, easy there,” Travis said as he held his hands up, showing they were empty and took a step back from her. “I didn’t mean to—”
Lenobia ignored him, bowed her head, drew a deep breath, and said, “There is no danger. I am well. Sleep, my beauty.” Then she lifted her head and her gray eyes skewered the man. “Remember this: do not sneak up on me. Ever.”
“Yes, ma’am. Lesson learned, though I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. Didn’t think that there’d be a vampyre out here at this time a day.”
“We don’t burn up in the sunlight. That’s a myth.” Lenobia was thinking about whether he needed to know that red vampyres and fledglings
“Yes, ma’am. I know that. I also know that sunlight is uncomfortable for you, which is why I thought I’d be alone if I came out here and, well, smoked this,” Travis paused and took the slim cigar from the front pocket of his fringed leather coat, “by myself and watched the sunrise. I didn’t even see you sittin’ there ’til you spoke.” His smile was charming and it warmed his eyes, gave them a sparkle which changed their ordinary brown to a lighter hazel color—something Lenobia hadn’t noticed happening before. Seeing it now made her stomach tighten. She looked away from his eyes quickly, and had to mentally shake herself to focus on his words. “You sayin’ horses and happiness made me speak without thinkin’. Next time I’ll clear my throat or cough or somethin’ before.”
Feeling strangely disconcerted by him, Lenobia asked the first question that came to mind. “Why do you know things about vampyres? Have you been the mate of a vampyre?”
His smile grew. “No, nothin’ like that. I know a little ’bout you because my momma liked you.”
“Me? Your mother knows me?”
He shook his head. “No, ma’am. I didn’t mean you. I meant vampyres in general. See, my momma had a friend who’d been Marked when they were kids. They stayed in touch—used to write letters—lots of letters. They kept writing up until the day my momma died.”
“I’m sorry about your mother,” Lenobia said, feeling awkward. Humans lived such short lives. They could be killed so easily. Strange that she’d almost forgotten that about them. Almost.
“Thank you. It was the cancer. Took her fast. She’s been gone five years now.” Travis looked away toward the rising sun. “Her favorite time of day was sunrise. I like to remember her then.”
“That’s my favorite time of day, too,” Lenobia surprised herself by saying.
“That’s a nice coincidence,” Travis said, turning his gaze to her and smiling. “Ma’am, can I ask you a question?”
“Yes, I suppose so,” Lenobia said, taken off guard more by the smile than the question request.
“Your mare called to you when I scared you.”
“You didn’t scare me. You startled me. There’s a large difference between the two.”
“You could be right, there. But as I was sayin’, your mare called to you. Then you spoke and she quieted, though there’s no way she could hear you from out here.”
“That’s not a question,” Lenobia said dryly.
He raised his brows. “You’re a smart lady. You know what it is I’m wonderin’.”
“You want to know if Mujaji can hear my thoughts.”
“I do,” Travis said, studying her and nodding his head slowly.
“I’m not accustomed to talking with humans about the gifts of our Goddess.”
“Nyx,” Travis said. When she just stared at him he shrugged and continued, “That’s your Goddess’s name, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“Does Nyx care if you talk to humans about her?”
Lenobia studied him closely. He didn’t appear to be anything except authentically curious. “What would your mother’s answer to that question be?”
“She’d say that Willow wrote to her about Nyx a lot and the Goddess didn’t seem to mind at all. ’Course Willow and I don’t write, and I haven’t heard from her since she came to my momma’s funeral, but then she seemed pretty healthy and definitely hadn’t been smote by a goddess.”
“Willow?”
“They were children of the 1960s. My momma’s given name was Rain. Are you gonna answer me or not?”
“I’ll answer you if you answer me a question in turn.”
“Done,” he said.
“My gift from Nyx is an affinity for horses. I can’t literally read their minds, just like they cannot literally read mine, but I do get images and emotions from them, especially horses I’m closely connected to like my mare Mujaji.”
“And you got stuff, images and such, from Bonnie about me?”
