Logan was riding bareback and shoeless at a lazy pace on a borrowed mare on the rez when a black shadow flew over him, its wingspan as wide as Logan was tall. Shivers shot down his spine as the owl flew past to settle in a tree, its golden eyes piercing his soul, the two feathered horns on his mottled head stiff and upright.
He’d first heard it hoot on the way here from the airport. It hooted again.
“Nooo,” he moaned, thrashing.
Owls could be good or bad omens, and Logan sensed the threat emanating from this one. When it leaped into the sky and disappeared in flight through the dark, sunless forest, Logan’s throat tightened in fear, shutting down his attempts to cry out or to breathe. Grabbing the horse’s mane, he dug his heels into the mount’s flanks while making clicking noises with h
