Tribal Ways (Rogue Angel, Book 25)
Alex Archer, Victor Milán
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"A frigid spring morning at a Native American archaeological dig erupts into sudden and brutal violence, leaving five people dead and one man gravely wounded. And in a hospital, with archaeologist Annja Creed at his side, the last survivor utters his final words to name his killer - a skinwalker. The skinwalker is feared among the Navajo and Apache. It is witchcraft of a most terrible nature that allows a man to take the shape of a wolf - and kill. But as Annja delves into the mystery of the skinwalker, she finds herself pulled into an underworld of violence and vicious radicals, threaded with legend.and sociopathic intent. In this world, Annja is unwelcome. And in this world, she could be the creature's next victim.."--FantasticFiction.com.
from her motel on the southwest outskirts of Lawton—not even a decent warm-up for long-legged Annja Creed—the Oklahoma Rose Café served a great breakfast. Annja regarded the outlaw biker lord across the Formica tabletop. Outside the sun was bright, if not too far up the sky; the sky itself was pale blue and brushed over with thin tufts of cloud. The wind buffeted the picture window to Annja’s right, and despite all that glorious sunshine she felt the chill beating from it like heat from a
gravel. “What’s in it for you?” she asked. “Heh. Payback’s a bitch, man. The Dogs make me do their shit work. Treat me like I’m nothing! “I take you there,” he said. “You get what you want. And then you screw those Dog Society warriors. Smash them to pieces.” Annja shrugged. “That’s the plan,” she said. 13 Two Hatchets guided Annja north of Lawton and east of Sill on Interstate 44. He had her turn off at an exit that led to a strip mall east of the road. Like the drive-in it was abandoned.
figured it was better for him to let him see you.” “Maybe that was a mistake,” she said, faltering. He shook his head. “No point second-guessing something like that, Ms. Creed. That poor boy was pretty torn up. I don’t reckon he could’ve lasted long regardless of anything you did or didn’t do.” “Thanks,” Annja said. She drew in a deep breath and tried to ignore the stinging in her eyes. “I was coming out to visit him,” she said. “He was also kind enough to want to consult with me on the dig,
who’d submit to any kind of lord.” “What are you, then?” He shrugged. “Speaker. Guide. It’s all by consensus. Persuasion. Everything is voluntary. That’s a tradition we definitely want to keep. Nobody has power over anybody else. Nobody wants it—nobody’d consent to letting anyone have power over them.” “I can see why your ancestors had such a hard time adjusting to the European-derived overculture.” “Well, some of us adapted way too well.” “So, Billy didn’t resent your taking over
piercing blue eyes, silver-white hair shellacked into unlikely waves and a voice like molten amber. Apparently the station’s big gun had been rolled out to break the new development. “Holy shit,” Ricky said. “Let me go check the police scanner.” He disappeared through the rounded archway of the door to the rest of the house. As the group sat and listened tensely in the kitchen more information filtered in from various sources. The story played out that a car had exploded and burst into flames