Chapter 23

Shocked, Smokey asked, "You know who I am? How?"

"I told you…I'm Tatanka Spirit," Reeve said smiling. "I knew who you were back when you first joined the agency."

"Why didn't you tell me then who you were?"

"You weren't ready. Why has it taken you so long to accept who you are?"

Ignoring Reeve's question, Smokey asked, "What's a Tatanka Spirit? I never heard my grandfather mention it."

"It's not a ‘what,' but a ‘who'…"

"Still playing games with me," Smokey growled.

"You didn't let me finish. Tatanka is a buffalo and Spirit means white. I'm a white buffalo."

Smokey stared at Reeve in awe. He remembered the stories his grandfather told him about the white buffalo who was sacred to their people, but Smokey had always thought it was a myth. His grandfather never gave any indication that it was true or that a white buffalo would seek him out.

"Your expression shows me you've heard of me…at least you know the importance of a white buffalo," Reeve said quietly.

"I do…but I didn't think you really existed."

Chuckling, Reeve said, "I'm not surprised…unfortunately there are many who disbelieve, as you did."

"But not any longer," Smokey muttered.

"Good to hear…that will make my job easier."

"About that…why were you waiting for me?"

"To help you, of course," Reeve said, smiling.

Shaking his head, Smokey said, "You're not making any sense…what are you supposed to help me with?"

Frowning, Reeve was perplexed. Smokey acted as if…fuck! He doesn't really know. "I was sent to help your spirits restore the earth's balance, to bring peace and harmony to the people of our world. For many years, evil has been allowed to grow unchecked because the number of good spirits has slowly been outnumbered by evil ones.

"That began long before you were born. As the number of Manetus declined, the downward slide of our world picked up speed until the evil spirits outnumbered the good ones. The proof of it can be seen in every corner of our world…hunger, disease, poverty…all are on the upswing, caused by the dwindling number of good spirits. And the most important consequence of an overabundance of evil spirits is that it has attracted some paranormals into the human world, putting everything we have at risk—including the future of all, regardless of who they may be, because no one is immune from greed."

"You're saying I'm to blame?" Smokey asked, angrily.

"No," Reeve said, shaking his head. "If blame is to be placed, then it lies at the feet of the few who sought to enrich themselves without thinking about what it would do to our world."

Smokey knew how extremely bad their world had become; his work at the agency had proved that time and time again. No matter how many evil perpetrators he arrested or killed, there were always more who would take their place. Whenever he and Ghost had a moment of free time, the subject invariably came up, but neither could agree on the cause. During those many discussions, an imbalance between good and evil spirits never crossed Smokey's mind as a possibility. What they did agree on, though, was how thoroughly exhausted they'd become fighting the spread of evil. Burnt out, they'd tendered their resignations five years ago.

Looking back, Smokey wondered how he could be so na?ve; there just wasn't any excuse for it. The years he'd spent learning the importance of good versus evil spirits and the absolute need for balance in the world seemed like a distant memory. Disgusted with himself, he said, "It is my fault…I knew better, yet I did nothing."

"Don't blame yourself," Reeve warned. "It only feeds the evil spirits. Everything happens for a reason, but knowing why is not important. Back when we first met, you were in a different place in your mind, but by accepting your power, that place no longer exists. You are ready to don the mantle the Great Spirit has gifted you with…and with me at your side, we can start to heal our world."

"I don't understand how you can help me. Do you also possess good spirits?"

"No, but as the white buffalo, guardian of our earth, I'm able to add my power to yours, making your good spirits more powerful, so we can speed up the demise of the evil ones."

"What about the other Manetus? Will you be able to boost theirs?"

"I could…if they were still around…unfortunately, Smokey, you are the last Manetu."

"The last one? Are you sure?"

"Very…the others were hunted down and killed by humans when they refused to help them take control of our world."

"That's crazy! Manetus don't have that kind of power."

"I know that," Reeve agreed, "and you know it, too. But humans discovered that Manetus were responsible for the abundance of food and game and concluded if Manetus could do that, they must have other powers that humans could exploit to control the world."

"Unfuckingbelieveable," Smokey muttered. "My father was right."

"About what?"

"I heard him tell my grandfather that once the world finds out about me, I would be hunted by those who seek to use me for their own gain."

"Your father was wise."

"Yeah…that he was," mused Smokey. "After that, my grandfather told me not to tell anyone who I really was."

"Ahh…that explains your behavior when we first met."

"Maybe…but what it doesn't explain is why you were such an asshole to me and only me. All the other trainees thought the sun rose and set with you." Shaking his head, Smokey added, "You have no idea what that did to me. I was ready to quit…certain that I was a fucking fool for thinking I could become an agent. The only thing that stopped me was my friend's father who helped me regain belief in myself."

Appalled at the impact of what he'd done, Reeve was overcome by a wave of contrition. "I'm sorry Smokey…that wasn't my intention. All I wanted…well, my animal wanted, was for us to fulfill the purpose the Great Spirit had created us for, so I tried to force you to acknowledge who you were."

Waving his hand in dismissal, Smokey said, "Thanks, but it doesn't matter anymore. I survived and probably ended up better for the shit you put me through. Look at it this way, I was better prepared for the field than anyone else in my class and that kept me alive many times over."

Chuckling, Reeve said, "Then you should be thanking me."

"You're an asshole," Smokey muttered.

"But an asshole who saved your life," Reeve replied, smirking.

A bark of laughter erupted from Smokey. "Moving on…" But before he could finish, several knocks sounded at the door.

"Smokey?" Jackson called through the door. "Can Theo and Norm come in?"

"Gimme a minute," Smokey called out. Then, looking back at Reeve, he asked, "So what happens now?"

"For the time being, nothing. I have to finish my current mission before I can resign. Until then, lay low and try to keep out of trouble. The only reason the Council can't have your head on a platter is Jackson's refusal to file a complaint."

"Uhmm…about that…Jackson knows who I am."

"Let me guess…it was the lack of bullet holes in you that gave it away."

Shrugging, Smokey replied, "Something like that."

"Will he keep your secret…at least for now?" asked Reeve.

"Yeah…he promised me he would…but I refuse to keep anything hidden from my mates and my Alpha. So you should be prepared for a call from Jackson at some point."

"Understood." Reeve stood up. "I have to go…I had my men put the bags of Josiah's bits and pieces in a freezer, so I better get back and make sure that was done."

Rising, Smokey grasped Reeve's hand and shook it. "I hope you found all of them."

"Smartass," Reeve said, heading to the door. "Next time, can you please leave the body in one piece?"

Smirking, Smokey replied, "For you, I'll try."

Chuckling, Reeve opened the door, grinning at Jackson. "I'll be in touch soon." Then, nodding to Groose, he followed the enforcer out to his SUV.

~/~/~/~/~

Kahn made it to his bedroom without running into his mother or sisters. Grateful for that, he closed the door quietly behind him and leaned against it for a moment, trying to sort out his riotous emotions, but there were just too many. Pushing off, he began undressing on his way to the bed until he was down to his briefs and socks. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he stared at his hands, flexing them over and over. His fingers were long and narrow—artist hands his mother always said—unlike the thick, stubby ones his father has…no…had.

His father was dead and Kahn didn't know how to feel about it. Should he be sad because he'd never have a chance to bridge the chasm between them that had slowly widened over the years? Or was it okay to be relieved that he no longer was under his father's heavy hand? Or maybe he should be happy because he was finally free to follow his dreams without worrying that his father would force him back into the pack. Maybe it wasn't any of these. Or maybe it was all of them.

More confused than ever, Kahn climbed into bed and clicked off the lamp on the bedside table. Turning his head toward the window, he looked up at the night sky, losing himself in the vastness of it. Tomorrow his mother and sisters would find out they no longer had a place at the Silver Point Pack and would look to him for support. But what could he really offer? A place to stay, perhaps, but his sisters would need more than that—and how could he help them with their grief at the loss of their father when he couldn't even figure out what he should feel?

And what about his mother—would she grieve the loss of a husband who stopped loving her years ago? Did she even know about her husband's love for Aunt Hope? It was a subject he didn't dare bring up in the past for fear of hurting her. But now, it would have helped to know how she'd felt. It would have, at least, given him a clue as to what her response to the news of Josiah's death would be. Hindsight was always twenty-twenty…hell, ain't that the fucking truth. In less than a week, the high he was on had evaporated, leaving him dangling over an abyss, barely holding on with his fingernails.

Kahn needed to stop thinking about his father's death because no matter how hard he tried, clarity wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Doing what he had done many times in the past, he locked away those thoughts, letting them simmer in the back of his mind. Hopefully, in the morning, his brain would have sorted everything out and he'd know how to proceed.

Closing his eyes, he turned over on his side, desiring nothing more than to fall into a dreamless sleep, but he was pretty sure he wasn't going to be that lucky. Other thoughts kept filling his mind, from what to do about his upcoming show to planning the funeral for his father, to who should be notified, and more. Normally, he'd have asked Rudy, but…Fuck! Sitting up quickly, Kahn rubbed his hands over his face, remembering what Heath told him about Rudy claiming to be the next Alpha of the Silver Point Pack.

Only Kahn had the power to stop that from happening but it would mean returning to the pack and assuming control of it. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! There wasn't any way he could—or would—allow Rudy to get his hands on the pack because the first thing that asshole would do was force Kahn's sister to marry him. And he absolutely refused to let that happen. Yet, dammit, the only way to prevent it, was to become the Alpha.

Pushing off the covers, Kahn got out of bed, too agitated now to sleep. Pacing around the room, a whirlwind of ideas on how to avoid becoming Alpha swirled through his mind, but none was a viable solution. Anger filled him as he saw his career go up in flames; years of work to reach his goal of supporting himself with his paintings was now for naught—thanks to his father. Try as he might, Kahn couldn't keep from laughing hysterically. All his father ever wanted was for Kahn to follow him as Alpha, but now that it was about to happen, his father wouldn't be around to see it. How fucked up is that?

Tears replaced the laughter as Kahn sank to the floor. He couldn't think about this anymore. Burying his head between his knees, he finally gave into the tidal wave of emotions consuming him and let his tears flow unhindered.

~/~/~/~/~

Turning onto the highway, Reeve thought back to his conversation with Smokey, smiling to himself. Things were beginning to fall into place, which was certainly a pleasant surprise. Never did he expect to find his Fated mate when he took this mission, but to finally be able to connect with Smokey, well, as far as he was concerned, life couldn't get better than that.

Celebrating his good fortune, Reeve rolled down his window and turned on the radio. Nothing could beat the feeling of the wind in his hair as he sang loudly along with his favorite country songs only to be interrupted by the vibration of his phone. A quick glance at the screen had him turning off the radio before answering. "What's up?" he asked.

"He knows," Heath muttered. "Don't ask me how he found out because I didn't bother asking him."

Frowning, Reeve paused for a minute, before the pieces came together in a rush. "Fucking hell! How did he take it?"

"How the fuck do I know?" Heath snapped in frustration.

Taking a deep breath, Reeve let it out slowly before asking, "Tell me exactly what happened?" Listening to Heath's explanation, Reeve felt anger suffuse his entire body. If he ever found out who the fuck had leaked the news of Josiah's death to Kahn, he'd kill him without any remorse. "Where is he now?"

"Still up in his bedroom," Heath replied. "Do you want me to go check on him and make sure he's okay?"

Thinking for a moment, Reeve decided to head over to the safe house. Not that he didn't trust Heath to take care of Kahn, but in his gut he knew his mate needed him now, more than ever. "No…I'll be there soon…just make sure you have some fresh coffee cuz I'm running on fumes."

"Will do."

"And do me a favor and call Eddie…make sure the freezer he put Josiah in is locked up tight."

"I'll do it as soon as we hang up."

"Thanks." Ending the call, Reeve saw the turnoff that would lead him to the safe house and his mate. Taking it, he muttered, "Soon, mate, I'll be there soon."