Two Spirits by Jory Strong

were distracted. I think it's safe to say he was the
target all along. Child molesters aren't popular. Doesn't look like
he's going to survive."
    He'd met both of them, liked them both, and
maybe they'd once been innocent victims. But they'd grown up and
ruined lives, perpetuated the cycle of sexual abuse.
    Bad childhoods didn't give them a pass for
the life-scarring choices they'd made. And he didn't ask which man
might die.
    Trey touched the thunderbird carved into the
mantle. "I can see how this land gave birth to the thunderbird.
There's something about it, something almost mystical. I keep
imagining I'm hearing a drum, and sometimes there's chanting."
    Tenino's chest expanded with the return of
hope. "We call it singing," he said, keeping his voice level,
matter-of-fact, when what he really wanted to do was question,
cross-examine, secure every bit of evidence proving Trey was meant
to be his permanent partner.
    "Oh," Trey said. "Sorry."
    "No offense taken." He tapped his fingers on
the mantle. "Ukiah made this."
    Trey looked away, blushed. "Tekoa mentioned
him when we were in the sheriff's office."
    Tenino grinned. Wondering if Tekoa's
gaydar was pinging as hard as mine? The answer is yes. Wondering if
Tekoa knows we've been going at it hot and heavy? I didn't kiss,
touch, fuck or otherwise tell, but the answer is still yes.
    He refrained from teasing Trey. "Ukiah is
Tekoa's brother, my cousin. He's an artist. Also operates a lodge,
complete with private cabins, for people who come here to hike and
rock climb but don't necessarily want to rough it in tents. These
days he's got a waiting list and there are always people begging to
stay during the winter when he closes."
    "I can understand it. This place feels
ancient. It feels magical."
    Trey's blush deepened and amusement was
replaced by tenderness and a more pervasive swell of hope. "The
land has a way of holding you, making it almost impossible to
leave. I managed it once. Worked as a cop in Los Angeles then in
San Francisco. But I couldn't stay away. When I came home, I felt
whole." And I don't want to lose that feeling.
    Trey nodded, ducked his head so his hair
completely hid his expression. Tenino wanted to reach over and pull
the strands of gold back, or better, pull Trey against him and
prevent him from hiding.
    Shit, it'd all happened so fast. It was way
too soon to talk about something that transcended the pleasure of
fucking and was more about the spirit than the body.
    He grimaced. In a minute he'd be reciting
poetry. Then how fast would Trey run?
    "So the name of your tribe translates into
People of the Thunderbird," Trey said, his voice holding a hint of
a question, as if he didn't want to risk saying or straying into
something sensitive.
    Tenino sighed. Sometimes political
correctness was a fucking pain in the ass. He curled his arm around
Trey's waist and gave him a quick kiss. "Just ask. I'm a gay cop.
You think I can't handle anything you can dish out? What is it you
want to know?"
    "What does the thunderbird mean to you?"
    "Short answer, the Thunderbird serves the
Creator by guarding the land, just as The People serve by
protecting and caring for it." It was the best he could do, the
truth as much as he could tell it. Once his people had been so much
more, but…
    Tenino turned his thoughts away from anger
and bitterness. The past couldn't be forgotten. Neither could it be
changed, and there wasn't a hell of a lot of point in blaming
anyone alive today for wrongs their ancestors had committed.
    He was one of The People. He was
Thunderbird. But he was also American. A cop. A man who enjoyed
technology but still revered the natural world.
    "I want to show you something," he said,
releasing Trey, sudden impulse riding him.
    He took a quick shower, got dressed then
went to the table. Picking up several guns, he carried them to the
weapons safe. Trey collected the rest of them, handed them to him
so he could put them in their proper places.
    "Does the