Kissed by Smoke by Shéa MacLeod Page B

of the stove door. I was just
about to start demanding again when his voice broke the silence. “I
met your father on the day he died.”

Chapter Fourteen
    I wondered if I looked as shell-shocked as I
felt. “What?”
    “That is how I was able to see him, of
course,” Tommy said, as if that explained everything.
    How he thought that explained anything, I
did not know. I was about to tell him so in no uncertain terms when
Inigo gently pre-empted my tirade. “Shamans are like me, Morgan.
They can often see the spirits of the dead, the dying. Sometimes
they can even communicate with them.”
    I glanced over at Tommy who nodded in
confirmation. My mind was a whirl. “So, you saw my father’s spirit
when he was dying?”
    “Yes. He came to me,” the old man said. He
stared off into the distance so long I was afraid he wasn’t going
to continue. “He was worried about his son. His daughter was safe,
but his son … not so much. I promised to keep watch over the
boy.”
    My brain ticked over. “You had yourself
tattooed so Trevor would know our father had sent you.”
    “Yes. Your father showed me the symbol.”
    Well, shit. Could this get any weirder? Oh,
don’t answer that.
    “Trevor said our father was murdered.”
    Tommy shook his head. “We spoke of many
things, but never of that.”
    Damn. I’d hoped he could shed some light on
my father’s death. “But, why you? Are you sure you’re not a
Sentinel?”
    He cracked a laugh at that. “Not a drop of
Atlantean blood.” More staring off into the distance. “We spoke
many times about things not of this physical world after he died.
Interesting man, your father. Keen mind. Troubled soul. Although we
never met in person, at least with both of us on this side, we
became friends. When he had nowhere else to go, he came to me.” The
old man shrugged.
    I was about to open my mouth and ask why ,
when it hit me. Shamans protected their people. From the moment my
father asked Tommy Waheneka to watch over my brother, Trevor became
one of Tommy’s people. To guard. To protect.
    “So, you’ve been watching over Trevor all
this time.”
    “Since he was fifteen years old.”
    “And you still watch over him now.”
    The shaman gave me a shrewd look. “As
promised.”
    “So, you can tell me why he was attacked the
other night. And why you didn’t stop those assholes.”
    “Morgan.” There was warning in Inigo’s
voice.
    I wasn’t surprised. I was walking
dangerously close to being disrespectful. But if you wanted to get
cliché about it, sometimes you gotta break some eggs. Or walk where
angels fear to tread. Or something.
    Tommy waved Inigo’s warning aside. “She’s
her father’s daughter. Can’t help herself.” Those shrewd brown eyes
bored into mine. “I can’t tell what I don’t know, but I do know
this: It wasn’t Trevor Daly they were after.”
    That got me. “What do you mean?”
    He leaned back in his chair and gave me the
silent treatment. Naturally I wanted to get all up in his face, but
I had the oddest feeling he was testing me. Fine. I leaned back in
my own chair with my arms crossed over my chest, sending Tommy a
death glare.
    We sat like that for what seemed like ages
as I let my mind click through everything that happened. I squirmed
first. Damn, but those chairs made a person’s butt sore. I had no
idea how a man old as dirt could stand it. I made a mental note to
buy nothing but cushy chairs.
    Then something else hit me. “They could have
killed Trevor. Easily. But they didn’t. Instead they, whoever
‘they’ are, sent a couple of bumbling rednecks after him. Why? I
mean, they killed Agent Vega with a djinni, made good and sure he
was dead. Obviously the two attacks are connected somehow.”
    Tommy Waheneka gave me a look of approval,
but remained silent. Obviously I was on to something. Though why he
didn’t just tell me, I had no idea.
    “Okay, so if they weren’t actually worried
about killing Trevor and there was no