Dream Catcher: Coyote Trials, #3

By nikki broadwell

Problems arise for Sara and Istaga when Sara changes her mind about their living arrangements. The rez, where Istaga has been living and building their unique house, is no longer where she wants to be. Sara's unexpected pronouncement throws Istaga into confusion. He's just beginning to understand the baffling behavior of the human species. Meanwhile, their nearly four-year-old daughter, Kaliska, who has been living as a coyote, is kidnapped. The men who have her know what she is and plan to cash in on it.

Searching for Kaliska leads Istaga on a wild goose chase that separates them even further. And left alone, Sara is losing her mind. Will they find their baby and repair their relationship, or will this be another rift that cannot be mended?

• Language: English
• Publisher: nikki broadwell
• Release date: Jun 13, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201671112

nikki broadwell

Nikki Broadwell has been writing non-stop for sixteen years. From the time when she was a child her imagination has threatened to run off with her and now she is able to give it free rein. Animals and nature and the condition of the world are themes that follow her storylines that meander from fantasy to paranormal murder mystery to shapeshifters--and along with that add the spice of a good love story. 

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Istaga, aka Coyote, leaned against the outside wall of the government building with his arms folded. The sun warmed his face, lulling him into a stupor as he watched Sara gesturing to her friend. Her animated hand and arm movements seemed to indicate that what she was talking about was the most important thing in the world. It seemed overzealous , a word he’d recently learned, and self-important, something coyotes never were. But the longer he stayed in human form, the more he understood. And it disturbed him. For one thing he was becoming increasingly interested in his own thoughts, as though he should listen to the voices inside his head instead of his instinctive nature, which nearly always led in another direction. He was losing touch with who he really was.

As he watched Sara, he felt a tingle, as though she was his reason for being. Her sun hair sparkled in the bright light and her sky eyes reflected back the color of the dome above the earth. When her lips moved he wanted to place his mouth there. He licked his lips and shifted his position against the stucco, feeling the roughness through his shirt. Chambray. A chambray shirt Sara had bought for him. She said it looked good on him with his dark hair and skin. Why did he need to look good? He felt the urge deep inside, the need to connect, the need to mate. But did it come from his human side or the animal? From what he’d learned, human men thought about mating nearly every moment of every day. Was he becoming more human than animal?

He and Sara had two pups and he would gladly have another if she would only let him near her to do the act that created them. Lately she’d turned away at night, telling him she had a pain in her head or some other problem that made no sense to him. Coyotes mated when it was time to mate. Humans mated whenever the urge struck, and the urge had been with him for a very long time. But Sara didn’t care. Maybe as he was turning more human, she was turning more coyote. And yet she was no longer capable of shifting, as though the part of her that had chosen him had rejected who he really was. His head pounded, confusion mounting the more he thought about their ‘relationship’, as Sara called it.

When she refused him, it did something to his insides, making him feel bad about himself, another human emotion that he didn’t quite get. Coyotes refused too, but not for the many reasons that Sara came up with. And there wasn’t any confusion about it, or emotions to muddy it even further. He was sick of emotions, sick of humans and sick of himself.

He thought of the time when Sara had been able to shift into coyote, roaming and hunting alongside him. He’d enjoyed that, and yet being human with her was a different kind of satisfying. He pushed the dark hair away from his yellow eyes, the eyes that seemed to shock and dismay whenever anyone took a good look at him. Feelings crowded his mind and body. He wanted to howl, but Sara would be angry if he did that. There were people wandering in and out of the building, getting in and out of the smoke-spewing beasts that they left in the parking lot, and crowding by him on their way to eat or drink at the bar across the road.

They talked in loud voices, females and males, some mated by the smell of them, others not. Most spent their time staring at the oblong piece of plastic in their hands, something making them grimace or laugh or frown. A cell phone was what Sara called it—a way to stay in touch, she said. In touch with what? All he needed was the earth under his feet and the sky overhead.

He sniffed the air, his senses picking up cooking meat, some kind of alcohol, garbage, and the ripe odor of human sweat and hair. He was hungry. When he brought his attention back to where Sara and Rosie stood, his hackles rose as a man came by and eyed Sara, his gaze sliding across her body. But in this form he didn’t have hackles, only a prickling at the back of his neck that made him want to lunge for the guy and sink his teeth into him.

He was next to Sara before he decided to do anything, his arm held protectively around her. He faced the man and let out a low growl, baring his teeth.

Sara wriggled away. Istaga, what are you doing?

The man sneered before disappearing through the door into the building. That man wanted to mate with you.

Stop it! She tugged at his arm and whispered, Just because he looked at me doesn’t mean anything.

That was not a look. He glanced toward Rosie who had a smile quirking at the corner of her mouth. She understood even if Sara did not. I don’t like it when men do that. Can we go now? My belly is empty.

Go have some lunch, Sara’s friend said, waving them away as she moved toward the door. And bring Kaliska and Cheveyo next time. I haven’t seen them in a coon’s age.

Kaliska has gone off to be a coyote for a while, but I’ll bring the baby by.

Istaga frowned, turning to Sara. What is coonsage?

Sara laughed. It’s an old term that means a long time. My father used to say it.

Istaga was still puzzling over this as he followed her to the truck and climbed in on the passenger side. He could smell something on her. She seemed far away. What is it?

She turned. How do you know what I’m thinking about?

I don’t. That is why I asked.

Her lips pressed together, her forehead puckering. I’m thinking we should move back here, Istaga. Page is too far away from my friends.

But we have the house to finish.

She sighed. I know, but I’ve changed my mind. I miss Rosie and my friends here in Black Base. I can get a job here.

With the money from Raleigh you don’t need a job. Sara’s husband, Raleigh, had been accidentally shot and killed by the very hunters the man was working with. A just end for the jerk who had hounded Sara, and nearly killed her. But somehow Raleigh had forgotten to take Sara out of his will, a piece of paper that held a lot of power in the human world.

He was glad Raleigh was dead, but why he and Sara had been mated in the first place was a question he couldn’t answer. What he’d seen had shown him that Raleigh was violent and cruel. When he asked Sara why she’d been with him, water came out of her eyes. Would Sara suddenly decide to leave him behind as she’d done with Raleigh? His instincts said she was ready to leave him now.

Istaga thought about marriage and divorce, concepts he didn’t understand. Divorce meant having nothing more to do with each other. Coyotes would never do that. The pack changed in numbers, but they were mated for many years. When the time came to move on to another female, it was because of old age, death, or keeping the pack strong with new blood. To this end the alpha male sometimes mated with several females, but the alpha female was always in the picture.

In the pack he ran with, he’d been next in line for alpha male, but when he left, it caused a rift. Since then the pack had turned their back on him, growling and ready to fight when he’d tried. He was stuck in a world he didn’t understand and unable to go back to what he’d been before the shaman had granted him his wish. Perhaps it was a curse after all.

When a hawk flew past his attention was taken to where it landed on a pole. Hawks were harbingers of the spirit world, messengers sent to remind him of the wider view. As Coyote he knew this, but the human body he now occupied was not aware of the world of spirit, other than what Toh Yah had taught him about Native American beliefs. Toh Yah and his people seemed like a different species compared to most of the people he’d met.

He nodded to the bird just before it took off, gliding on wide wings to soar in the sky. I got the message, he muttered to himself. But did he? Hawk medicine meant stopping the mind’s confusion and taking action to clarify a situation. He had a need to be alone to discover what lay beyond the thoughts that crowded his mind.

---

When they reached the Pig and Pint he followed Sara inside, the noise and smells turning his stomach for a moment. But then he licked his lips in anticipation of the liquid that soothed his moods and dampened his senses. Several females were at the bar with tight fitting T-shirts that caught his eye. When his body reacted, it set up more confusion. Did this mean he would mate with them if he could? That wasn’t it at all. But then why was his body ready for it? He glanced at Sara as he tried to make sense of things. He felt a pain in his chest, his hand going there to stop it. Water was about to come out of his eyes. He wanted something, but he couldn’t identify what it was.

CHAPTER TWO

Sara watched Istaga worriedly. He was preoccupied and moody and he’d guzzled down two beers before their lunch had arrived. His yellow eyes darted around the room, landing on a young woman who leaned against the bar. She wasn’t wearing a bra under her skin tight orange T-shirt, her large breasts pressing against the thin cotton. Istaga licked his lips, his gaze riveted on her chest.

Istaga, Sara hissed. Stop staring.

Istaga turned. She wants me to stare.

No, she doesn’t.

Istaga shook his head and took another long pull from his beer. I do not understand the human female, he said. She is asking for…

Sara grabbed his arm. She’s not asking for anything. She’s having a beer. Human women dress as they please. Just because you can see her body doesn’t mean she wants to have sex.

The food arrived and Sara took her hand off his arm, hoping he would concentrate on eating instead of whatever lewd thoughts were running through his head. He’d become more and more obsessed with sex lately, and she was not in the mood for his nightly attacks. She watched warily as he picked up his burger and took an enormous bite. He wiped his greasy mouth on the sleeve of the chambray shirt she’d just bought for him, leaving a dark smear. No matter how hard she tried she could not tame the man or teach him normal manners. She picked up the paper napkin and handed it to him. Wipe your mouth on this, she whispered.

His eyes were glazed with drink, his gaze sliding away and roaming the room again. Two women were playing pool in the back, giggling and laughing as they hit the balls.

They do not want sex, Istaga said loudly, pointing toward them. Several people turned to stare at him.

I think they might love each other, Sara whispered, watching their movements.

They are both female.

Humans sometimes have relationships with the same sex.

Istaga’s eyebrows pulled together. How does that work?

Sara had to smile. I’ll tell you all about it later. She held out the napkin again. Look what you’ve done to your new shirt, she hissed. Wipe your mouth and hands here.

Istaga stared down at the napkin before he carefully unbuttoned the shirt.

Don’t take it off--we’re in a restaurant!

But Istaga’s eyes had narrowed, a frown between his dark brows. He removed the shirt, revealing his copper skin and the necklace of turquoise beads Toh Yah had given him. He glanced at Sara before he placed the shirt on the extra chair. A moment later he was walking unsteadily toward the door. By the time Sara rose to go after him he was already outside. She watched in horror as he shifted into a coyote and ran toward the empty lot behind the Pig and Pint.

She turned back, her gaze flicking over the clientele in the bar. Had anyone seen him? It was not the wisest move he’d ever made, but then again, Istaga never thought things through before he acted. Why he had chosen this moment to have a hissy fit she didn’t know—and all over that stupid shirt she’d bought him. She headed back to the table to finish her lunch.

What’s up, pretty lady? John asked, pulling a chair around to sit in it backwards.

John was an old friend, a man she’d had a relationship with before she met Istaga. He’d been involved in the shifting fiasco caught on tape the year before, and witness to the footage that played on the television for months, but she was pretty sure he didn’t believe his eyes. Just having a beer and some lunch—how about you?

Didn’t I see your significant weirdo a minute ago? Where’d he get off to?

Sara tried not to show emotion, her eyes on her plate. He’s…we had an argument.

John picked up the shirt. And he shed his shirt to make a point?

John, it’s not really your business.

John shrugged and took a long pull from the bottle he held. Should have stuck with me, babe. Your moods never bothered me.

Sara pursed her lips. That is bull and you know it. I pissed you off nearly every day we spent together.

John laughed. Yeah, I guess you’re right. His avid gaze slid around the room. That gal at the bar looks ripe for the picking. Do you know her?

Same obnoxious reaction as Istaga’s, Sara thought to herself. I’ve never seen her before. But she looks able to take care of herself. I don’t suggest some stupid pick-up line.

I’m in a drought here, relationship wise. Maybe I’ll give it a go.

Watch yourself, Sara warned.

The woman turned when John approached, a wary look appearing in her dark eyes. She listened politely, said something in response to whatever John said, and went back to her beer. But John didn’t give up, loudly ordering another beer for her, and another for himself. Sara watched his mouth move, the dark looks she darted his way that he ignored, until finally the woman stood. Leave me alone, she said, each word enunciated clearly and loud enough for the entire bar to hear. She picked up her bag and left.

John turned toward Sara and lifted his hands in mock surrender before sauntering back to her table. My usual moves didn’t work.

That was patently obvious. What did you say to her?

I told her she was a breath of fresh air and I would like to take her to dinner.

You did not.

Okay, I didn’t say that. I told her she was luscious and I wouldn’t mind taking a bite.

Sara scoffed. So subtle, John. What an idiot.

What? Don’t women want to know they’re attractive to the opposite sex?

Take a bite? Really? Sara shook her head. Now if you’d said what you told me the first time, you might have had a chance with her.

John said something else, but Sara’s thoughts were on Istaga. She’d expected him to come back. I’ve got to go, she said, rising abruptly.

The weirdo needs you?

Something like that. Sara threw some bills down and picked up her purse, hurrying toward the door.

Good luck with your shifter! she heard John yell.

A shock went down her spine. Hopefully the other clientele wouldn’t pick up on what he’d said. With the news on the lookout for any small tidbit of scandalous happenings, she feared the return of the recordings of Istaga and herself shifting from one species into another. The idea of it had her panicking for a moment before she sucked in a deep breath.

When she climbed into the truck and turned the key, the engine sputtered into life. Now that she had money she could afford a newer one, but for some reason the 1985 Chevy suited her. She drove slowly, scanning into the desert landscape and hoping for a glimpse of the coyote, but there was no sign of him. By the time she reached the main road she figured he was waiting for her at the trailer.

She heard the wailing baby before she’d exited the truck. Her former boss, Joe, was babysitting, and it seemed that Istaga was not here.

When Joe heard the truck he hurried out the door, the screaming baby in his arms. Cheveyo’s face was bright red, his eyes scrunched and face wet with tears. Thank God you’re back! I didn’t know what to do with him—he’s not interested in the food you left for him. Man, this kid can howl!

Sara smiled inwardly at the howling comment and took the baby out of his arms. Have you seen Istaga?

Joe shook his head. Sorry, but I’ve got to go.

Thanks so much, Sara managed, unbuttoning her shirt with one hand while she held the baby on her hip. Joe waved and hurried toward his car.

Inside the trailer she settled on the bed to feed him. She was suddenly worried. Had Istaga gone on walkabout again? Their relationship had been up and down for two years now, but since they’d been living on the rez things had settled. Maybe her recent decision to move back to Black Base had put him over the edge. He wasn’t good with change. She couldn’t imagine it was only the nagging about the shirt that had sent him round the bend. Lucky for her this trailer was still available for weekly rental. She figured a month would give her enough time to make a final decision. Joe had already begged her to come back to work. And Rosie was ecstatic when she told her the plan.

Gazing down at the halo of blue-black wisps of hair around his copper skin, she was struck with Cheveyo’s resemblance to his father. As far as she could tell there was no indication that he came from her at all. This was exactly what she worried about most—Istaga gone, leaving her alone to raise his half coyote child. What if Cheveyo suddenly shifted in front of Joe or others? She’d have to take him and hide out in the hills. She’d done it before. It was fun at the time, but that kind of life no longer held the same appeal. She enjoyed her creature comforts and her computer and cell phone with access to everything from shopping to information on most everything. That was another reason she was sick of the rez—little to no reception and definitely no wifi out where Istaga was building their house.

Their first child, Kaliska, had been gone for several months, needing to flex her legs as a coyote. At three her human side was totally dependent on Sara, but as a coyote she was grown and ready to take on a mate. The thought did nothing to cheer her. If Kaliska chose to remain coyote, she would be dead before her tenth birthday. And that was barring any run-ins with hunters or getting caught in a trap. She wanted Kaliska back, but Istaga refused to track her down. She needs to find her own way, he said whenever she brought it up. If they didn’t get her back soon, Kaliska would be fully coyote with little to no memory of