Chapter 15 The Past Attacks
The Past Attacks
Tāwera walked the familiar, dusty path toward the tiny white church at the hill's base, adeptly avoiding most scientists and other workers who frequented the settlement. It was the transient nature of the scientists that meant he could come and go at will. He’d encountered several of the men, and they’d stopped and chatted with him.
He and Nyree had prepared for this, and his cover story that he was studying weather patterns seemed to work.
This morning, he lifted his hand in greeting and continued walking, Nyree’s day pack draped over his shoulder. It contained water and a snack, plus it was a handy way of keeping his clothes dry because the weather down here shifted moods from sunny to rainy without warning.
Once he reached the top of the hill and gazed over the settlement, he noted a sleek blue-and-white cruise ship slowing at the entrance of the bay to give way to a pod of humpback whales.
He’d listened to Nyree’s tales of the whalers and the pursuit of their prey in this bay.
It was agreeable to see their return now and the increased population.
As he watched, one whale leaped from the water and made a tremendous splash.
He grinned and watched a little longer before he continued to trek higher into the mountains.
By the time he reached the mouth of a valley with ocean views, the whale pod had departed, and the cruise ship had disgorged its passengers.
Tāwera stripped and stuffed his clothes into the daypack.
An instant later, he stood taller and centered his mind.
This time, his shift was almost pain-free and seamless.
With a mental whoop, he rose and flew inland over rocks covered in patches of melting snow.
Interesting. It seemed as if Nyree was right, and the curse had adjusted his needs.
Instead of shifting to his taniwha form, sex played into the equation.
He flew for an hour, soaring over snow-covered mountain peaks and exploring the island. Despite the milder weather, not much grew on the lower slopes.
A few mosses and lichen clung to rocks and provided a touch of color.
Nyree had mentioned reindeer—four-legged animals—used to graze the slopes, but a team of hunters had killed them all to maintain the balance of nature.
He hadn’t known what a reindeer was until Nyree had shown him pictures and told him tales of Santa Claus.
It reminded him of how much he still had to learn, although Nyree showed great patience with him.
Tāwera wondered what he might do when he returned to Aotearoa, but Nyree had instructed him not to worry. Manu and her other friends would help him to settle and make his way in the unfamiliar world, which reminded him. He must check Nyree’s tablet to learn if Manu had written to him.
Aware of the passing time, he flew back to his clothes, shifted, and dressed. With the cruise passengers in port, he could wander at will, chat with them, and eavesdrop to increase his knowledge. He enjoyed these encounters and hearing the different accents and languages.
When he reached the path by the church, he passed several passengers. Most dressed in bright jackets. He’d wondered aloud why they wore identical clothing. Nyree had told him the cruise ships’ owners issued their passengers with jackets and boots to ensure they had suitable waterproof gear.
He entered the church since he hadn’t explored the interior yet. Two women stared at him, and he nodded in acknowledgment. His face, he realized. Too bad. He couldn’t and didn’t want to undo his moko since they were a badge of honor, and he’d worked hard to earn them.
“Excuse me,” one woman said, drawing near enough for Tāwera to get a whiff of her floral perfume.
He smiled politely and waited.
“Your tattoos are unusual. They’re tribal, aren’t they?” she asked, her expression alive with interest.
“Yes, they are part of my New Zealand heritage,” he said.
“Can we take your photo?”
“No,” Tāwera said. “I do not enjoy having my photo taken. It was nice to speak with you,” he said, smiling to soften his rejection. He turned his back and wandered through the church. It was small but held the same hushed atmosphere of the one he’d known all those years ago.
Once Tāwera left, he wandered through the settlement, listening to the tourists’ chatter as he headed to the store.
He wasn’t sure if Nyree would be working in there or if Carolyn would be on duty.
He tried to keep his distance from Carolyn and Keith in case they asked nosy questions about him.
To his delight, Nyree was selling stamps and postcards to a group of tourists.
She lifted her head when he entered and flashed a grin.
Mine, he thought with satisfaction.
He browsed the items, pretending to shop while listening to the tourists discussing their trip and gossiping with each other.
When Nyree remained busy with a line of visitors waiting to purchase items, he drifted outside and toward the cemetery.
He paused with another group of tourists to watch a group of king penguins as they decided if they’d jump into the water.
The birds bunched together on a rock, packing tightly until the ones at the front of the group fell into the sea.
Tāwera laughed with the others until he felt the weight of a stare. Moving carefully, he repositioned himself so he could scan faces. He froze as he spotted a familiar figure in the crowd.
Rāwiri.
What? How?
Tāwera’s stomach bucked, and emotions bombarded him as he gaped at the man. Shock. Fear. Anger. Confusion. Tāwera continued to stare. Rāwiri gave a polite nod and moved onward.
Not Rāwiri, he realized, but someone who resembled his half-brother so closely they had to be related.
This man moved differently and didn’t bear the same strutting confidence as his brother.
Not the same mana. His clothes were modern, and when Tāwera scrutinized him more closely, he recognized subtle differences in features and physique.
Who was he?
Tāwera followed at a distance, his instincts twitching the longer he observed the man.
He wasn’t behaving like the other tourists.
He didn’t chat with the passengers, nor did he take photos with a camera or a phone.
Instead, he scanned faces as if he were searching for someone.
Tāwera trailed and spotted how the man tensed as he grew close enough to study the shop’s interior.
Tāwera drew nearer and walked right past the stranger. He took the two steps leading into the store at a jog, and still, the man didn’t look his way or tear his attention from whatever he found so interesting.
Tāwera entered and pretended to browse the postcards. They sat in a rack and put him at the right angle to watch the man.
Nyree finished serving her customer and glanced in Tāwera’s direction with a smile. Tāwera shook his head and hoped she understood not to treat him as someone familiar.
“How much does it cost to post a letter to Aotearoa?” he asked.
She gawked at him for an instant before answering his question. Tāwera pointed to the rack of postcards so the man watching Nyree would assume he was a tourist asking questions.
“Nyree,” Tāwera spoke in an undertone. “Can you describe Ari for me?
Nyree stilled, her face paling. “What?”
A customer approached the counter and placed two T-shirts, a polo shirt, and a notebook down before pulling out their wallet. “You finish with the gentleman,” the woman said.
“It’s all right,” Tāwera said. “I need to write my postcard first. You go ahead.” He backed up, taking a postcard with him, and angled his body to a position where he could watch the stranger.
He had vanished.
Instead of relief, tension rose in Tāwera. He didn’t have a good feeling about this. It was something in the way the man had searched. His target might be another customer, but Tāwera didn’t think so. He waited until there was a break in the customers before he approached Nyree.
“You think Ari is here?” Nyree’s face remained devoid of color, and her gaze kept darting over Tāwera’s shoulder to study the passersby.
“I thought it was my brother,” Tāwera said. “That’s what drew my attention.”
Nyree forced a smile for a customer. She rang up the sale and accepted the correct cash in UK pounds before the customer left.
Three more chatting customers lined up for Nyree, and Tāwera drifted away to watch for the stranger. He couldn’t see him, but his warrior senses pinged with awareness. The man was out there and watching, lurking in the shadows.
Tāwera shifted closer and waited to gain Nyree’s attention. He signaled he was leaving. She’d remain safe while she was working. The ships usually stayed for around four to five hours before they left again. They’d wait until the ship left, and Nyree would be safe.
Ari was here?
Nyree’s pulse raced, and her hands trembled as she gathered the two T-shirts and the notepad her current customer had placed on the counter.
She offered a strained smile to the redhead who had a pert nose and a citrus scent wafting from her person.
Nyree served her customer, but her mind was elsewhere.
No, it couldn’t be Ari. How would he know where she’d gone?
The answer presented itself almost immediately.
Her mother.
Her parent was the weak link here. She’d believe Ari’s silken tales of woe, and by the time he’d finished, her mother would agree Nyree was at fault for the breakup, that her daughter had made a serious mistake.
Ari possessed charm and understood how to use it with women.
It was why he never had a shortage of feminine attention.
Unfortunately, it had taken her too long to appreciate his charisma was only skin-deep while the place where his heart should be was full of darkness.
But how could he be here?
No, it couldn’t be Ari.
She dragged in a citrus-scented breath and forced herself to release it and repeat the process.