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Coyote Episode 1 (Seal of Solomon) Page 3


  He hissed in pain as he returned to his seat, shuddering and wiping at the sweat on his forehead. He looked like he’d had a serious case of the flu.

  “Bit ill, are we?”

  Angelo glared at me. The hatred in his eyes was almost physically painful. “No thanks to you.”

  “Me?”

  He growled—literally growled—and continued to glare at me. “Shit, woman. You don’t even know what you’ve done, do you?”

  There was no smart answer to that, so I said nothing.

  “Skinwalkers don’t get sick. We have to be cursed. By someone pronouncing our name, in full.”

  I stared at Angelo. I’d done just that, back at the bar. I hadn’t just said his name, either. I’d pronounced it, with just the right inflection to make it uniquely his. Angelo Miguel Alejandro de la Cruz. Names have power. I’d essentially called on the power of his name—his humanity—against the monster inside him. It takes a lot for someone to do that. If I hadn’t been his sister, with such an intimate history, I doubt I could have done it.

  But I had. I’d cursed my brother without even knowing it. Now what? Now he would kill me for it, slowly, and he’d become such a monster I had no doubt he would enjoy it. No one would find us, at least not in time. I’d die, certainly. Angelo might—no telling, he might be strong enough to overcome the curse. Especially if he had some kind of energy to feed off, like the suffering of a woman at his mercy. Skinwalkers were like that.

  And then … If Angelo didn’t keep the cuff, someone would find it. Not right away, but eventually. Some illegal crossing the desert would stumble across it, and the cycle would start over. More people would die. The jinn connected to this cuff would ravage the land and no one would be the wiser. It had to stop here.

  I had to stop it.

  When Angelo had nabbed me from my hotel room, I’d dropped both my cell phone and my gun. I hadn’t finished dialing, so no one knew what had happened to me. No backup would be forthcoming. Or rescue, for that matter.

  I had nothing even resembling a weapon. It didn’t look like Angelo had come armed, either, but he was skinwalker. He had all the defenses he needed in that cuff.

  The sky had lightened to a medium blue while we talked, the stars winking out as day approached. Angelo had brought me to the middle of nowhere—given how fast he moved, he could have taken me fifty miles away from Nogales while I was unconscious. There was nothing here for me to use as a weapon, no convenient cliff for me to push him off. I was just a woman, in nothing but cotton shorts and a T-shirt, faced with a monster about to kill me.

  I had only one thing going for me: I was good in a fight, and Angelo was weakened from the curse.

  Yeah. Instead of supernatural speed and strength, maybe he’d be down to simply superhuman levels. Awesome. But it was all I had, so I had to use it.

  The next time Angelo cringed in pain, I leapt. My feet trailed through the fire as I landed atop Angelo, but I ignored the flaring pain and focused. I’d grappled a lot as a kid—first teasing against my brothers, then in earnest when I’d had to fight off other coyotes or men who thought they could get the better of me. Self-defense classes had enhanced that skill. I might not be the biggest or strongest person around, but I can grapple with the best of them.

  I knocked Angelo to his back, taking advantage of his momentary shock to pin him down. He struggled horribly, almost succeeding in flipping me over, but I locked my thighs around his waist and leaned my weight onto him. I grasped his left arm with my right, and his eyes grew wide. He’d figured out what I was going for.

  Angelo thrashed and bit, tearing at my arm with his nails, but I held on with single-minded stubbornness. Thank God he wasn’t in full skinwalker shape, or I’d be shredded by now.

  Ignoring his awful strikes, I stripped off the coyote pelt cuff and tumbled away.

  Angelo howled like a demon let loose from hell. Without the cuff he couldn’t shapeshift, but he didn’t need to. He was so full of mindless, animal rage he’d tear me apart as he was. I ran, trying to put some distance between us, but he was faster. From five feet behind me he shouted and leapt for my back.

  There was nothing I could do. I couldn’t roll to the side fast enough, not with how close he was. No matter where I moved, he would catch me. I was utterly defenseless and had no more options. If I didn’t do something, Angelo was going to rip out my throat.

  I put on the cuff.

  Angelo froze in midair, like I’d hit pause on a movie. The world stopped, becoming utterly still and silent in a heartbeat. I looked around, the only living thing in a world of statues. My heart raced. I tried to move, but my feet were rooted to the ground.

  “My, my, my. Look what we have here.”

  A man appeared at my side, floating six feet off the ground as if he were sitting on a comfortable chair. He was small and somewhat effeminate, and his voice flowed like honey. I’d seen another man like this before, in the dream-world I’d been trapped in with Adaire. We’d named that guy Morpheus, because of his penchant for dreams. This man was the same—a jinn.

  “What’s going on?” I asked. Dumb question, I know, but it was the best I could come up with at the time.

  “You’ve asked me for powers, little one. I’m evaluating your worth to see if I shall grant them to you.”

  “I don’t want any of your evil powers,” I snapped.

  “No?” The man leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Then why did you put on my relic?”

  I stared at him, silent. I couldn’t answer. Rather, I didn’t want to answer. I put it on because I did want his powers—I needed them if I was to survive this fight. But I didn’t want any part of the skinwalker business. Become a monster, free of charge? No thank you.

  “Ah,” the jinn said. “You understand the predicament. You do want the strength to defeat your brother, do you not?”

  We both knew the answer to that, so I nodded.

  “Yet you are unwilling to accept all I have to offer you.”

  “Blood, terror, murder? You bet I’m unwilling.”

  “I see.” The jinn eyed me. “You’re stronger than your brothers, little one. So fierce for one so small.”

  Come on. It’s not like I was that short.

  The jinn clapped his hands. “Tell you what. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll grant you some of my power—just some, mind you, and this time only—if you’ll promise not to turn over the relic to that man.”

  He spat the last words like they left a foul taste in his mouth. Interesting. The jinn knew Crispin and at least some of what he was doing. And they didn’t like him. I guess I couldn’t blame them. If some guy was going around collecting my powerful relics and keeping them from the hands of man, I might be a little peeved, too.

  Crispin aside, the jinn’s offer was … tempting. He’d give me some power. Enough to survive, at least. All I had to do was keep the cuff. A constant reminder of the power I could have, if only I’d give in to it. A constant temptation. Not to mention having to hide something like that from Crispin, and Adaire, and the rest of the Seal.

  But if I didn’t, I would die. I could see it right there—Angelo’s open mouth, too-sharp teeth almost at my throat. His nails, practically claws, only inches from my shoulders. As soon as time restarted, he’d land on me with all the pointy bits embedded in my flesh. I had all of a minute, maybe, to live.

  And the cuff would be out in the open, for anyone to pick up. The jinn’s skinwalker would continue to terrorize innocent people.

  If I had it, at least I’d know it was safe. I could always figure out some way to destroy it later.

  “Deal.”

  The jinn disappeared and time resumed. Angelo continued his flight to my throat, but I had plenty of time to react. I knew he was still moving fast, but I was moving faster. I stepped aside and let him hit the ground, hard, where I’d been standing. Before he could recover I leapt onto his back and punched him hard in the back of the neck. Something crackled, crunched, and Angelo went
limp.

  Holy shit. I’d broken his neck with a single punch.

  I slid off Angelo’s back and crouched by his face. He was covered in blood from his impact with hard dirt and cactus, and it was clear he’d injured himself pretty badly in the fall. He’d have been down, but not out.

  My punch, though …

  I may not have liked Angelo much, and he’d let himself become a vicious, murdering monster, but he was still my brother. I couldn’t help but shed a few tears for him.

  A soft, tinkling laughter came from over my shoulder. “And so the cycle continues. It’s so rare to have a woman murder one of her own kin and take up my banner. This will be … refreshing.”

  I spun to face the jinn, but he wasn’t there.

  Horror made my mouth go dry, my hand shake. My stomach dropped out of my body completely. The jinn wasn’t lying—I’d killed my brother and claimed the coyote pelt for my own. In trying to defeat the skinwalker, I’d become one myself.

  I fell to my knees and vomited.

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  KEEP READING

  More Great Reads Await!

  Celestina’s story continues.

  Coyote Episode 1

  Coyote Episode 2

  Coyote Episode 3

  Coyote Episode 4

  Coyote Season 1 (Eps 1-4) collects all four books in one bundle for great savings.

  Or check more Seal of Solomon with Fortune’s Favor.

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  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  Brenda

  Brenda J. Pierson wrote her first book at the age of six, in order to convince her parents to buy her a pet bunny. (She drew a picture of walking said bunny with a leash. Needless to say, it didn’t work out.) Since then she’s cultivated a love of literature and all things fantasy. Now she lives her life surrounded by books—writing them, editing them, and shelving them at her public library. It’s fairly close to heaven.

  She lives in her hometown of Tucson, Arizona, with her husband and two cats.

  Matt

  Who am I? I’m a writer who loves speculative fiction, especially epic fantasy. I adore mythology and history, and those passions inspire most of my works. I studied philosophy in college, then publishing. More importantly, I went backpacking in India where I met my future wife, Tarannum “Juhi.” She supports pretty much all my crazy obsessions, like writing novels, so I started Incandescent Phoenix Books, and she eventually became my graphic designer. We’re a husband-and-wife team, which is pretty much the coolest thing ever.

  I’m also a gamer, and our company is working on a forthcoming pen-and-paper RPG called Echoes: Highborn.

  I pretty much love to hear from readers, so feel free to email me at matt@incandescentphoenix.com. Really, it’s cool. You can also connect with me on various social media forums:

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