Page 132 of Shadow Blind

“I got your message.” Had he ever. He frowned when he remembered the wording of the first text. “Who told you I needed to speak to you?”

“Come. Sit. This concerns you, too, Ho'cee.” Benioko turned and shuffled back around the corner.

Wolf and Aiden followed. The kitchen the old shaman retreated into was even smaller than the one in Aiden’s quarters. It contained one short counter, which housed a surprisingly fancy coffee pot—which currently sat full and steaming, a well-scrubbed stainless-steel sink, a stove with two burners, and a tiny, dorm style fridge.

That earlier screeching came again. He turned as Benioko sat and scooted his mint green chair beneath a red Formica table. A pair of empty Styrofoam cups sat on the table. It looked like Wolf had been with the shaman long enough to finish a cup of coffee.

An off-putting smell suffused the room—a combination of dust, burned coffee and old cooking, with the acrid undertone of incense, or maybe weed?

“Sit.” Benioko gestured to the empty chair across from him.

Aiden hesitated, then took the chair the old shaman indicated.

“Ho'cee, coffee.”

Wolf took a ceramic cup down from the open cupboard above the counter, grabbed the coffeepot and returned to the table. He filled all three cups and took a seat. With a distant expression in his eyes, Benioko gazed into the steaming Styrofoam cup Wolf placed in front of him. Aiden glanced at his big bro, who shook his head.

The seconds ticked past. Aiden fidgeted, frowned, and glared at his wristwatch. He could be in bed with Demi right now instead— The Old One suddenly lifted his head, pinning Aiden with surprisingly sharp eyes, considering the film clouding them. “Your le'ven'a will wait for you.”

What the hell was a le'ven'a? Although he suspected the word had something to do with Demi. He shifted uncomfortably beneath the shaman’s scrutiny.

“The Shadow Warrior grows impatient,” Benioko said, his gaze still locked on Aiden’s wary face.

Okay, and this concerned him how? “With what?”

“With you,” Benioko snapped.

“Me?” Scowling, Aiden pulled back.

“It is time for you to step past this stubborn selfishness and accept your role among the Kalikoia. The Shadow Warrior is done waiting,” Benioko announced, his gaze hard on Aiden’s face, his voice flat, yet somehow cutting.

Selfishness?

Aiden stiffened. “I have no role in your tribe.”

He didn’t soften the rejection. This was his life, his choice, not Benioko’s, and not the fucking Shadow Warrior’s. Aiden turned to Wolf, who stared back with his usual impassiveness.

A long, weighty silence fell. Benioko finally turned rheumy eyes toward Wolf. “How much of the old times have you told him?”

Wolf stirred. For the first time in Aiden’s memory, his brother looked defensive. “I have not forced our history on him. Allegiance and belief are not forged through force.” He paused. “This you taught me.”

The shaman nodded, but almost immediately shook his head. A weary expression settled across his face. The deep crevices bracketing his nose and mouth deepened even further. “There are exceptions. Your javaanee is such.”

Aiden had heard the word Benioko used enough to know it meant brother. In this context, Wolf’s brother. Which meant the old man was talking about him. Yeah—fuck this bullshit. Aiden shoved back his chair and rose.

“Sit.” Benioko said without raising his voice.

But there was power in the order. Immense power. It reached out and snared him, slamming him back down in his chair where he sat frozen, unable to move, his body under someone else’s—or something else’s—control.

Chapter fifty-two

Day 24

Denali, Alaska

His muscles bunched and straining, Aiden fought to move something, anything: his arm, his hand, even a finger. But Benioko’s unseen power wrapped around him, throughout him, locking his muscles in place and his body in stasis. The only thing he could move were his eyes.

Jesus, am I still dreaming? This can’t be happening. Hell, I can’t even open my mouth.

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