As he drove down the bumpy road, he finally answered her question. "I study things I'm getting into. Try to, anyway. When I uncovered the legend of the windigo that terrorizes this area every forty years, the study included trying to find out as much about the people it terrorized as about the actual entity. So yes, I ran across some information — very little, to be honest — about the Midewiwin Society. I know there's a lot more to it than what I've managed to skim. It's main focus isn't so much worship. It's preservation of knowledge, most importantly the healing knowledge. Yet the members admit to spirit power being essential, as well as consistent renewal of that spirit power."
"There," Kymbria said as they approached her driveway.
Caleb drove in and parked next to her garage. Even with the engine running and windows up, Kymbria could hear Scarlet's whines, intermixed with growls, inside the cabin.
"She doesn't recognize the sound of your truck," Kymbria said as she hurriedly tried to open the door. It was still locked, and Caleb touched a button on his door to release it. As Kymbria slid out, she said, "Come on in. I haven't forgotten you asked for a drink."
She bent back in to continue, "Or that I have some more questions for you."
Chapter 11
She brought the dog over to him, ordered it to sit and reached for his hand. A scant inch before she touched him, she hesitated and lifted an inquiring eyebrow. Obviously, she didn't want to get zapped again, and he tried to reassure her.
"My controls of the cross are in place," he said, although he as yet had no idea why the consecrated cross had…attacked her, for want of a better explanation. "It's as much mind control as anything else. There's always some dormant power there, though, in case I need protection I'm unaware of. But for the most part, I control it, not the other way around."
And could that be the reason for the discord? he mused. She's obviously wearing some sort of consecrated pouch of her own. But why would the two types of defenses, supposedly geared to the same safeguard, war with each other? It doesn’t make sense.
"I see," Kymbria said.
She probably did, Caleb realized. She was working with a Midé. She'd probably seen the power of practices and beliefs recently — a few hours ago with Keoman. He was still pissed that Keoman had risked contact with the windigo out there on his own with Kymbria. It must be something damned important, to her at least, for them to proceed right now with whatever they were up to. Even rumors of a windigo were enough to frighten most people who understood the entities…and thousands who didn't. A couple of his experienced friends had even bowed out in Colorado when….
Kymbria at last intertwined her fingers with his and held their hands near the dog's muzzle. Despite his rigid mind control, Caleb felt a stir of vibration where the cross lay against his chest. Only slight, though, nothing more dire.
"This is a friend, Scarlet," Kymbria said. "Remember him?" The setter sniffed, then licked Caleb's hand.
"Glad she just licked me," Caleb said with a chuckle, for some reason missing the contact with Kymbria when she dropped his hand. "From outside, her whines sounded like she was starving to death."
"She was just lonesome and letting me know." Kymbria handed Scarlet a doggie biscuit from a sack on the counter. The setter flared her upper jaw, exposing teeth Caleb wouldn't want to confront bare-armed, and gently took the treat. She finished it in two bites, then wandered away to drop on the rug in front of the fireplace.
"She's a bit spoiled, and quite vocal about her wants and needs, much like my daughter, Risa," Kymbria went on. "And she's accepted you, since she remembers you from this morning. See, she's snoozing. She doesn't do that if she's worried about someone."
"I'm honored. I didn't know you had a daughter, although Keoman did mention that you were widowed."
"Let me get out of these heavy clothing and I'll fix our drinks," she replied instead of following that conversational thread. "Would you mind building up the fire?"
By the time Caleb had the fire revived and the sturdy screen secured, Kymbria had taken off her boots and snowsuit. In jeans and a heavy brown sweater decorated with a moose and snowflakes, she stood barefoot beside a mirror-backed bar on the far side of the room.
"Any preference?"
"Bourbon or whiskey." Caleb tossed his heavy jacket on a chair. "Straight up."
A moment later, she handed him a crystal glass and settled in a corner of the sofa closest to the fire, a longneck bottle of beer in her hand. Caleb sat on the other end of the sofa and took a long swallow of his drink.
"Jack Daniels," he said with a nod. "One of my choices."
"My dad's, too," Kymbria said. "He was a whiskey man. Look, I know it's really none of my business what you're doing up here, even if it does have something to do with the tribe. I've been away for the better part of over twenty years, so I don't have any say in what the tribe does these days. Not that I ever did, but Mom has always stayed close to her roots."
"Not your father?" Caleb asked.
Kymbria drank her beer for a moment, as though to have time to ponder her answer. Then she said, "If it had been up to Dad, we'd never have bought this cabin. He thought we should buy a condo in Florida for vacations. I'm not sure why he gave in to my mother. He made the best of it, though. Taught us well, all about our heritage and the land."
She frowned for a moment, then nodded. "Maybe that's why he first brought up Florida, though. Maybe he knew at some point, this thing would wake up, and he didn't want to have any ties up here. But he's been gone now for five years."
"You think he knew, but not your mother?"
She drank another long swallow before she said, "No. I'd say Mom knew first and foremost, then shared it with Dad. They had that sort of relationship. I think I understand something else now, too. Mom insisted I wait until spring to work with Keoman. She wasn't happy when I slipped away on my own, leaving her stuck there watching Risa. She did make me promise to leave here by Christmas…long before the forecast awakening of this thing."
"Risa. Your daughter?" he asked.
A radiant smile lit Kymbria's face, and for just an instant, Caleb wished he were the object of an adoration that deep. Keoman hadn't had to warn him off, though. His own losses were far too recent for him to have any interest in a new relationship. Even one with a woman as intriguing as this one.
"My daughter," Kymbria confirmed.
"Pictures?" Caleb asked with a teasing grin.
"You're safe," she replied. "I left all but a couple in my billfold at home in Duluth. And my billfold's in my purse in the bedroom."
"I would like to see the pictures," he assured her honestly.
"Another time. Right now…well, for some reason, I don't want to bring my daughter into this situation, even by way of her photos."
"Then, given your mother's attempt to delay your trip up here, you think she definitely knows about the windigo," Caleb said.
"As you obviously do," she threw back at him, and the easiness between them dissolved.
He finished his drink, then lifted his glass to her. "Mind if I get another?"
"Help yourself," she said distractedly.
When he sat back on the sofa with his refilled glass, he said, "Something keeps bothering me. Well, this whole situation both bothers me, as well as scares the shit out of me. From the little I've been able to find out, a windigo hunts in a set pattern. And this one's not due until next month. Are you sure that's what was outside the sweat lodge tonight?"
"Hell no," Kymbria admitted, then swigged down almost all the rest of her beer before she continued, "I don't like to think Keoman would have taken me out there if he'd had any idea we'd run into something evil. I'm sure he wouldn't have."
"You and he go back a ways?"
"All our lives," she said, "although Keoman's a couple years older than me." She rose and got another beer from the bar refrigerator. When she returned to the sofa, she curled a leg under her so she could face him directly. She'd painted her toenails a violet-red,
which went well with her dusky coloring. "You still haven't told me what you're doing here."
Caleb closed his eyes and choked back a groan of anguish as the pain cut through him in knife-like slashes. He should have known better than to ask for a second drink. His barriers on the cross were workable if he conserved his alcohol intake. But the blockade on the tormenting memories always weakened with that second drink. He'd nearly drank himself to death during the two months after he lost Mona and Skippy, until he realized the alcohol was fostering his pain, not alleviating it.
He opened his eyes and set the whiskey on the end table beside him, then leaned forward, elbows on his knees, clasped hands dangling. Screw Keoman's need for secrecy. The shaman — Midé — whatever he called himself — had revealed enough to Kymbria already to worry her. And he hadn't bothered to justify the secrecy need to Caleb. Besides, right now he wasn't sure Keoman had the best judgment in the world. The few clues Keoman had dropped in the short while at the casino, as well as his abrupt departure — probably to consult the Elders — both confirmed the dread and horror Caleb's suspicions had begun to nurture. Amidst the rumors that had to be circulating, given the tight knit Native American community, Keoman hadn't been smart enough to keep Kymbria out of the wilderness tonight.
Besides, something about this woman invited confidences of a painful nature. It was more than her attractiveness. He felt a true caring emanating from her.
He steeled himself and said, "I was hunting a windigo in Colorado. The first one I'd ever heard about — the first time I even knew windigos existed. But it must have returned to its lair before I could find it. The attacks stopped again, like they had the last time it appeared. I didn't find out the attacks had happened before until after I started doing some research. The monster out there has a different pattern than this one. It hunts every ten years and only kills six people."
He shook his head, and repeated, "Only. That word doesn't begin to do justice to the agony this fucking entity leaves behind." He refused to apologize for the epithet as he continued, "So I've got a bit over nine years to learn everything I can about this damned thing. To get ready to kill it."
"Are you looking for revenge?"
The pain slammed over him as her words brought his wife and son's faces into his mind. He groaned silently, unable to voice the final portion of the story just yet. Reveal the reason for that exact violent vengeance desire, although the need was inching out of his mind-closet.
"I've got enough compassion to not want families hurt by a monster like this," he said evasively. "Losing someone to death is hard enough. Losing them to a damned monster…the horrible way it happens, and the obscure reasoning behind the deaths, worsens the pain."
"Why is it so important to you?" Kymbria astutely kept prodding. "Other than that you're another paranormal investigator?"
Caleb wiped his palms down his face. Why was she so interested? She was leaving.
"I might be leaving," Kymbria said, and he realized he must have murmured his thoughts aloud, "but I care about my people. One reason I'm getting out of here is because my mother cautioned me to listen to Keoman. And Keoman advised me to leave. He evidently doesn't want any distractions while they fight this thing."
Caleb frowned as he grabbed at another train of thought, perhaps to avoid facing that final revelation. Why would Kymbria, among all the other people in the area, be a distraction for the Midé? Could it have something to do with the Midê's feelings for her? Or…could it possibly have something to do with the fact this certain windigo — if that's what it was — had shown up tonight at a place Kymbria happened to be?
The phone rang into the stillness, and Caleb instinctively reached for his sat-phone in his shirt pocket before he realized it was the cabin phone. Kymbria stared across the room until it rang a second time, then sighed and rose.
"These darned old-fashioned phone systems up here," she murmured as she set her beer on the little table that held the phone and picked up the receiver. "No caller ID. Hello?"
She listened for a moment, then said, "No. That's what I mentioned to you earlier. But you said you didn't have time to check the snowmobiles, so I was going to call Amber's husband in the morning. But now that I'm leaving — "
Her fingers tightened on the phone and she sank into a ladder-back chair beside the tiny table. "How long, Keoman? My god, you don't think…?"
Caleb rose to join her. On second thought, he grabbed his drink. But before he could take a step, Kymbria said, "I will. If I hear from him," and hung up the phone.
She stared at him, a stricken look on a face drained to paleness. "Len's missing. No one's seen him for at least three days."
"Len?"
"Len Skinaway. A tribal member. He contracts with a lot of the non-residents around here to maintain their cabins and recreational equipment." She stood to pace the room. "It doesn't make sense. This thing couldn't have been already hunting for the past three days. The Elders would have known!"
"That's rather a leap," Caleb soothed. "There's no evidence the windigo has Len. There are plenty of reasons someone might take off. Family emergencies."
"Len doesn't have much family. A sister, a couple nieces and a nephew, but they live here. And…he's Turtle Clan…like the fetish we found."
As she strode past him, Caleb reached for her arm. Startled, she jerked free, and Scarlet rose to her feet with a warning growl.
"Easy, girl," Kymbria hastened to say. "It's all right. I…" She turned back to Caleb. "I guess I'm a little on edge. I think I'll go ahead and pack up tonight. Get an early start to Duluth in the morning."
Her obvious dismissal meant he didn't have to relive the pain of telling her about Mona and Skippy. Caleb set his drink down again and reached for his jacket. Then he hesitated.
"You'll be alone here. Are you sure that's a good idea?"
She pulled at a thong on her neck, and an animal skin bag emerged from where her sweater had hidden it: the protection pouch he'd already suspected she wore.
"Keoman gave me this. Nothing will bother me as long as I have it."
"Are you sure?" he asked. When she didn't immediately answer, he went on, "I'm not doubting what Keoman told you. But I've been a part of the supernatural world, for want of a better explanation, all my life. And a small part of that world is demonic, evil paranormal entities. I'm familiar with the various protections used to fend off evil. At least half of how they work is because of the protective materials used. Various herbs, even stones and crystals, animal hair and sometimes feathers. Blessings and chants for even further consecration. But the other half of it is an abiding belief that it will be effective against the evil. You've just admitted how on edge you are. And…well, you've had several beers. The friends I work with ban any alcohol or drugs when we mess around with the other realm."
Kymbria's grip on the medicine pouch tightened until her knuckles whitened. She glanced at the beer beside the phone, then murmured, "That was only my fourth, and I didn't finish it. Two were back at the casino, a while ago. With food."
Caleb re-centered his barriers around his own consecrated cross, a skill he'd practiced so many times over the years that it only took a second to perform. Then he cautiously approached her and cupped her elbows in his hands. "Let's sit back down."
She nodded agreement, and he steered her to the sofa. Just as she started to sit, one of the birch bark logs in the fireplace rolled off the pile, and sparks shot up the flue. A loud pop echoed with the flare.
Suddenly rigid, Kymbria muffled a scream. She stared at the fireplace, then touched the pouch and relaxed a bit. When she eased out of his hold, he joined her on the sofa, near enough to reach her if necessary.
"I guess I felt I had good reason for a couple drinks tonight," he said quietly. "But alcohol also weakens the barriers I have in place to keep some of the things I don't want to think about reined in. Do you want to talk about what's troubling you?"
She drew her hand away and leaned back, her head re
sting against the sofa, eyes closed. "I've talked and talked about it," she said, then opened her eyes. "I've talked with professionals, had counseling. I'm all talked out, until Keoman's ready to work with me again. At least, about that."
"That being?"
For a moment, he thought she might answer him, but she shook her head. "It's got nothing to do with what's going on here." With a quick change of subject, she said, "And once again, why did you end up here, chasing our windigo?"
He braced himself for any pain that slipped through and said, "I think the windigo back in Colorado killed my wife and son."
"Oh, Caleb." She leaned forward and touched his cheek. "Oh, how horrible. But you said you only think it...ate…uh…killed them?"
"I know what windigos do, Kymbria," he spat, lashing out more at the memories than her. When she continued to eye him sympathetically rather than match his anger and irritation, he went on in a more composed tone, "I know what the possibilities are."
"You said you only think the windigo got them," she reiterated.
"That might well be a different type of shield on my part. I never found them, so there's this faint sliver of hope that I'm wrong." He might as well tell her the rest of it. "We actually found this bastard's lair. But before we could get past the area just inside the cave, to the…." Hell with it. He grabbed his drink and took a swallow. "To the storeroom these things use to keep their food in, there was an explosion in the adjacent copper mine. A bad explosion. Half the mountain was destroyed, including the windigo's cave."
He drew in a breath and went on, "Coincidence? Hell if I know. Luckily, all of us, as well as the men from the mine, escaped. But the mine was nearly played out, so the owners decided not to reopen it. Not clean up the mess."
"You're also after closure then?"
"Yeah. In addition to revenge. I decided to see if your tribe would accept me as part of their hunt this season. Learn what I could from them, so I'd be better prepared to go back to Colorado and wait for that monster to appear again."
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