"And I'm saying we're not," Niona reiterated in a flat voice. "We're leaving. You've got a daughter back in Duluth who needs you. Needs both of us."
Kymbria lowered the heat under the pan of milk and turned toward where Niona sat at the table. Her mother's crossed arms and defiant face belied her protestations. "I'm well aware my daughter needs me. But she's with her aunt, who loves her and whom she loves right back. Don't you care that all those people have died over the years? That more will die unless this creature is stopped?"
"It's not our place."
"Mom — "
"Drop it, daughter. I'm not going to talk about it any longer."
Kymbria gritted her teeth. Her frustration and anger swelled, although she couldn't decide if they were normal PTSD symptoms or something else. Not that PTSD symptoms were normal. They were irrational at best, turning her into a bundle of nerves with a close-to-the-surface temper. Maybe she misunderstood her mother's concerns.
Interesting. She glanced toward the door Caleb had exited. She was starting to compose herself with less effort when he was close….
She'd been struggling to overcome her shortcomings — the ones in her own mind — by rationalizing and understanding them. Acknowledge the symptoms, identify them, override them, as she had counseled soldiers. It took time, a more sustained effort with some than others, depending on the depths of their trauma. Longer still with soldiers who clenched their teeth and forwent the medications.
Her patients faced the buried horrors, talked them out, eased at them from different angles. Accepted they would never be free of the memories, but they could control them with practiced techniques. Could enjoy a life without unexpected flashbacks threatening both them and their loved ones.
As she knew she had to do, for her own peace of mind. For Risa's future.
Her mind. A wonderful thing a mind, yet prone to falters from the buried subconscious. She could do this. She couldn't let a supernatural monster interfere with her recovery. She had a daughter depending on her.
It's easy to talk to Caleb. Maybe I should tell him….
Her mother's jitteriness, denials and evasiveness made it apparent she'd get nowhere with her. Where was Caleb? How the hell long did it take to look at the vehicles and determine whether or not they could move them. Damn it….
She fought the tension, the sour stomach. If this kept up, she'd be slinking back to that inept psychiatrist, asking for a referral. Or reaching for the meds with no resistance. Sliding into a zombie state and the hell with the rest of the world. In fact, she'd counted out the number of pills in each prescription while in the bedroom.
But no way would she give up yet. Not with Risa depending on her.
Risa. Only she and Niona knew for sure how Risa had come to be a part of their lives, such an integral, loved part. She hadn't been able to give Rick children. The summer Tina died assured that. Yet when he'd asked her over and over to marry him, Rick had claimed it didn't matter. She was enough, their love ample for both of them.
It had been enough for her for so many years. And for him. She couldn't deny those happy years, the closeness they shared, the one-ness.
She wasn't sure when it changed, but she thought it was three or four years ago. The separations hadn't seemed so lonely, the reunions so giddy and emotional. Had Rick met Marie, the woman who transferred into his company, then? Or later, when they'd both started to realize perhaps their love was waning?
She'd tried, damn it. She'd even suggested counseling. Too late, though. By then, Marie was pregnant. And Rick wanted his divorce.
Then the Afghanistan firefight…the injury that sent Rick to Germany, her with him, vowing to once again try to save their marriage.
Could they have accomplished that? She shook her head. Though he'd survived a nearly-mortal wound, the staph infection took Rick's life. In his last coherent conversation with her, he'd begged her not to deny his child a chance to know her father. In his last incoherence, he'd cried out for Marie.
Marie, who was on her way to Germany when her plane went down. They'd saved the baby, though. Rick's baby, now an orphan.
"Kymbria? Kymbria?" She became aware of Niona's strident voice and a hissing noise from the stove. As soon as she made eye contact with her mother, Niona grabbed a potholder and lifted the pan off the burner. The smell of burned milk permeated the air.
"Guess I should have made it in the microwave," Kymbria mused. Then she started out of the kitchen. "We were up late last night. I'm going to lie down. Call me when you hear from Gabe."
But the phone shrilled as she emerged from the kitchen.
"Can you get that, Kymbria?" Niona asked. "I'm cleaning the stove."
The kitchen door opened, and Caleb entered. The phone rang again, and Kymbria huffed in irritation as she picked up the receiver.
"Hello?"
A moment later, she dropped the receiver as though it had grown fangs and stumbled over to the sofa. Crumbling onto it, she buried her face in her hands. "No. No, no, no," she whispered in a ravaged voice.
Scarlet reached her first. The setter lunged onto the couch, and Kymbria buried her face in the silky fur as the dog whined and licked her ear. Caleb evidently ignored the hanging phone receiver. He sat beside her and gathered both her and Scarlet against him. With one final hard embrace to her dog, Kymbria turned and clutched Caleb, her cheek against his chest, arms around him and handfuls of his shirt gripped in her fists.
"What is it?" he whispered as he smoothed her hair. "Kymbria, what's happened?"
She couldn't bring herself to answer. Horror at even the little Hjak had had time to say before she dropped the phone defeated her voice.
Rather than continue to insist she explain, Caleb rocked her back and forth. "It's all right. You can tell me when you're able."
Her precarious emotions stabilized. Head still pressed against his chest, she heard Niona hang up the phone.
"The w-windigo's taken someone else," her mother said in a broken voice. "A young woman who was seeing her husband off to work this morning just before dawn. Jane Tallbear. The husband…tried to protect her. He's in the hospital, near death."
With a huge effort, Kymbria forwent Caleb's arms, although she leaned against him. She turned to her mother with a glare she hoped reflected her anger and distress. "Now are you ready to tell us what you know about this thing? Or are we just going to sit around back in Duluth while more people die?"
Niona's face paled, and her eyes stood out in the starkness, dark with her own inner horror and disquiet. She and Kymbria stared at each other for a long moment. Then Niona said to Caleb, "Did you figure out how to get yours or Kymbria's vehicle out of the driveway?"
"Mom!" Kymbria surged from the sofa, but Caleb restrained her with a hand on her arm.
"Don't, Kymbria. Your mother has her reasons. I am going to ask her to do one thing, though."
"And what would that be, Mr. McCoy?"
"Call me after you get back to Duluth. When you have Kymbria safe."
Niona considered his request, then nodded. "I'll do that, Caleb."
Kymbria couldn't believe the two of them would come to such a drastic decision. "What if someone else dies tonight? What about that poor woman and her husband? I know her. She's Amber's cousin. She has two young children, three and five!"
Caleb tried to pull her back down beside him, but Kymbria stiffened, jerked her arm free and turned on him. "How can you go along with this? I thought you were here to do everything you could to find out how to kill this monster!"
"All hell will break loose now," he said. "Someone's seen this thing."
Niona's muffled voice broke in, "Someone did. The older child."
"Omigod," Kymbria breathed.
"The Elders and Hjak will call in the feds and everyone else who can help look for that woman," Caleb continued. "There's a window, at least according to legend. She might stay alive for a while."
"According to legend!" Kymbria spat. "We don't know! Has anyon
e ever come back after this damned thing took them?"
"Someone must have at one time," Caleb argued. "Otherwise, there wouldn't be indications in the legends that it doesn't eat its prey immediately. That's what…" He cleared his throat as his words faltered. "…what kept me going while I was hunting Mona and Skippy. One of our group had done some research. I'll see if I can contact him and find out where he got that information."
"I think we have more information right here," Kymbria insisted with another fierce glower at her mother.
"Do you honestly believe I would keep something to myself that might help this monster's victims?" Niona asked.
Kymbria stared at her mother, then wilted back to the sofa. "No. Oh, Mom, I know you wouldn't do that. But we've got to help."
"We can help by getting out of here." Niona asked Caleb again, "The vehicles?"
He stood. "Give me your keys. I'll push your car out of the way, down the hill."
"I'm not going back to Duluth."
"Kymbria!" Niona rushed over to her. "You have to. You can't stay here. I — I can't stay here."
"Why?" Kymbria demanded. "Tell me why and I might consider it."
The cabin phone rang at the same moment the snowmobile engine roared up the driveway and Scarlet stalked over to the kitchen door, growling low. When the engine noise died, the phone continued to shrill as someone pounded on the door. Caleb finally walked over and gripped Scarlet's collar, and Niona brushed the back of her hand across Kymbria's cheek.
"Oh, daughter," she said, then rose to answer the phone.
Chapter 21
Kymbria stifled the urge to follow her mother and shove the phone away from her ear, force her to continue their conversation. The impulse didn't feel like one of her near-explosive PTSD temper bouts. Instead, she regretted the interruption to what she felt might have been a breakthrough to whatever her mother was hiding. It had to be something impactful or important, given Niona's desperate desire to conceal it.
Caleb shoved aside the curtain on the kitchen window, checking the identity of their visitor. Evidently frustrated with the wait, Keoman flung the door back and pushed past Caleb, not even pausing to knock the snow from his heavy mukluks. The Midé strode into the living area. After a brief glance at Niona talking on the phone, he turned his attention to Kymbria.
"You've heard?" he asked.
"About Jane. Yes."
"Why are you still here?"
She didn't bother to answer that stupid question. Had he returned his phone calls, Keoman would know. Appearing to read the disgust on her face, he pulled back, then glanced at Niona as she hung up the phone. Niona met his gaze for a brief instant only. The phone shrilled again, but Kymbria doubted the summons was what fostered the mixture of challenge and defiance on Niona's face before she turned her back on Keoman. Murmuring the calls were from concerned friends, she again picked up the receiver.
"Len — " Kymbria began.
"Don't speak his name," Keoman ordered.
"Why, damn it?' she demanded, although she had been obeying the custom. "Adhering to the Old Ways isn't protecting our people!"
Anger flashed in the Midé's black eyes. "And you can say for certain it's not protecting at least some of them?"
"It's hard to prove a negative."
Niona hung up the phone, which immediately rang again. Instead of answering it, she walked away. "It's people who know we're here, calling about Jane Tallbear. I'm not up to talking to them."
"Amber could be calling," Kymbria said as she rose.
Niona waved at the phone. "Then you answer."
Kymbria hesitated. Why were she and Niona at such odds? Instead of continuing to the phone, she stopped behind her mother's back and gently rubbed her palms up and down Niona's arms.
"Mom, let's not fight," she whispered in an attempt to keep their conversation private. Or maybe, low-key so their emotions didn't erupt again. "Do you want us to go into the bedroom so we can talk alone?"
Niona sniffled, and when she turned to face Kymbria, shaking her head in refusal, she was crying. Kymbria brushed a tear track down her mother's cheek.
"It won't help to talk about things privately, honey," Niona said. "Please come back to Duluth with me."
"Let me think about it," Kymbria promised. "In the meantime, I'm going to try to reach Amber."
As the phone shrilled into silence for an instant, but immediately rang again, she glanced around for Keoman. Though she hadn't noticed him leave the sofa, the Midé now stood in the kitchen, talking to Caleb. She started to demand the men share their discussion with her and Niona, then huffed a frustrated breath, grabbed the phone as soon as it quit ringing, and dialed.
"Hello!" Amber answered before the first ring died. "Please say this is Kymbria."
"It's me," Kymbria acknowledged.
"Can you come?" Amber asked. "To my house? Did you hear about Jane? I've got her two kids here. They're so devastated. The littlest one has no idea what's going on, since she was still asleep. But she's picking up on all the tension, crying for her mom. The older one…he…God, Kym, he's — "
"Amber," Kymbria broke in. "Sweetheart, shush. You're going to make yourself sick."
Amber sobbed, then said, "Not as sick as these poor children are. Can you come, Kym?"
"Of course," Kymbria agreed. "It might be a while. Mom's car broke down in the driveway. Does Jane have any other family? Someone you can call until I get there?"
"We've…lost a lot of family over the years. But people will come. I can't think right now."
A child's cry echoed in the background, and Amber said, "Oh, no. I just got them to sleep. Now…hurry, Kym. I need you."
"I'll be there as soon as possible," Kymbria assured, but her friend had hung up.
"My truck's unblocked now. We can take it."
She turned to find Caleb beside her, Niona and Keoman disappearing out the kitchen door. Her mother grabbed her heavy coat first, and without a glance back, closed the door firmly. When Caleb slipped an arm around her waist, Kymbria disregarded the ringing phone to wrap her arms around him in return. He still wore his heavy coat, but he'd unbuttoned it, and she slipped her arms inside it.
"When is this going to end?" she moaned. She felt his throat tense against her forehead as he started to speak, and drew back enough to see his face. "No, don't say it. While I was trying to get to sleep last night, I figured out a couple things, but ended up with more questions. This entity only hunts for a finite period of time, the month of January. Or it used to."
Caleb stroked her back. "But it's early this year."
"So does that mean it will hunt for a longer period this time? Or quit hunting early?"
Caleb glanced away from her, toward the kitchen door. "We don't know."
"We being you and Keoman?"
"He's been talking to the Elders, but so far, he hasn't passed much on to me. Not that we've had time to talk."
"What else is there, Caleb? What else do we need to know about this monster?"
"How to kill it?" Caleb led her over to the sofa, where they sat and he held her again.
"Yes, that," Kymbria replied. "But is there any way to determine when it will at least quit killing people? Maybe from how it's hunted in the past?"
He thinned his lips and refused to meet her eyes. Kymbria reached up and tilted his face back. "Caleb?"
He sighed and said, "In the past, this one's always killed sixteen people."
"Omigod. Then…then Jane is only the first…or second, with Len."
"Kymbria. Honey, I need to catch Keoman before he gets out of here."
She stood, fighting the uneasiness at her loss of contact with him. "Go. Make him talk to you."
Caleb gazed at her for a moment, then nodded and stood. When she was alone in the cabin, Kymbria pulled the spirit bundle from beneath her sweater and clutched it.
~~~
Keoman was already on his snowmobile, a huge black Arctic Cat, but he hadn't started the machine yet. Cal
eb glanced around for Kymbria's mother, only seeing her after he passed the side of the cabin and followed the direction the Midé was gazing. Niona stood near the top of the stairs down the bank, shoulders hunched, a tiny figure back-dropped against the immense lake. The temperature had to be still below freezing, but despite the threatening clouds overhead, no snow fell this morning. The Native American woman stood in shadows near a gigantic pine, her petite figure nearly invisible in the dark gray coat she wore.
Caleb stopped beside the Arctic Cat. He wanted to grab Keoman by the neck, force him to stay here until he'd wrung every bit of information out of him. Reason insisted Keoman was his main link, however. As much as he was starting to dislike the Midé's elusive attitude, his high-handed ego and disappearing acts, Caleb couldn't afford to antagonize the man.
Maybe if he shared information, Keoman would respond in turn. "Have you talked to Hjak this morning?"
"I've been with the Elders," Keoman said, his gaze still on Niona. "But yes, Hjak called when we were all together. We're fairly certain what we thought was the windigo's first victim, wasn't. That man was killed in a different way."
"Then Hjak told you about what happened here last night?"
Keoman finally met Caleb's gaze. "You've been here all night?"
"Yes." Caleb didn't elaborate. He'd seen the other man gazing at Kymbria when she didn't notice. He had more than a childhood friendship interest in her.
That shouldn't matter to Caleb. Kymbria was widowed and had every right to search out a new relationship. Friendship sometimes grew into more. In fact, the best relationships he'd seen over the years were friendships-turned-love, as the story between his own mother and father went. So why did a different monster rear its head when he thought of Kymbria and Keoman together? A green one: jealousy.
Keoman fired up the Arctic Cat, and Caleb clenched his fists to keep from throttling the other man. Damn it, how could they work together if Keoman refused to share information? Or was Keoman deliberately keeping Caleb in the dark? Before Caleb could verbalize his disgruntlement, Keoman spoke over the roar of the machine.
"Meet me around one p.m. at the Walking Eagle Bar just outside town," he ordered instead of forming it as a request. "I should know more by then." He paused, and his next words diffused at least some of Caleb's irritation. "I'm not concealing things. I'm not in charge of what we give out. Our Elder, Gagewin, is."
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