Winter Prey

by T. M. Simmons

  She steeled herself at last and said, "Mom, I think this monster's becoming a danger to me. It was just here…at least, telepathically. If you love me, you need to quit hiding things. Come clean."

  She wouldn't have thought it possible, but Niona's face paled even more. Her fingers whitened on the coffee cup and she met Kymbria's gaze, eyes filled with dire dread. But….

  "You haven't asked about Keoman," she said instead of addressing Kymbria's demand.

  "Oh, no." Kymbria tensed, then forced herself to relax when Risa stiffened. "He's not…Mom?"

  "He's still alive," she said. "But twice last night he…what did the nurses call it? Coded. His heart stopped."

  "They brought him back, though, so that's good." She reached for her mother's hand, then drew back. "It means he's fighting to stay alive, Mom. I hope he doesn't join those already dead from this beast's rampage. I hope your granddaughter and I aren't in danger from your secrets."

  Niona nodded slightly, far too calm for Kymbria. Were it not for the burden in her arms, she might have grabbed Niona and shook her until she talked.

  "It won't hurt you. Or Risa," Niona said after a moment. "But yes, we do need to talk."

  Risa's mouth slackened and the bottle nipple dropped from her lips she fell back asleep. Kymbria stood. "Oh, that we do, Mom, as soon as I get Risa a new diaper and back down in her crib." Then she changed her mind. "No, I can't do that. While you're getting ready to finally talk to me about the windigo, keep this in mind. That monster was just here and now I'm afraid even to let my daughter out of my sight. But I'm also afraid to be around her. I'm afraid it might attack me while I'm holding my daughter!"

  Niona gasped and buried her face in her hands. Fighting the urge to gather her mother close and comfort her, Kymbria shifted Risa into one arm and headed for the coffeepot instead.

  Chapter 33

  It gazed down at the elderly woman. She lay in slants of early gigijeb light filtering in through some sort of covering on the window. She reminded It of someone long ago. The memory would come in time. Now, a more important matter threatened. Since She had left, hope for this being the final hunt had dimmed, even though It had expanded mind-power and found a faint enough trace to command She return. Fierce anger at Her desertion and threats still roiled. Someone must pay, and the one here might know secrets to spill…with persuasion. It had encountered this woman now and then during an earlier hunt. She held knowledge. She was one of the storytellers.

  It scooped the woman up, a clawed hand over her mouth so she could not scream. It even gathered the bed clothing around her as she struggled uselessly, terrified eyes staring imploringly. This one would live for a while. This one might have answers. If not, her skinny body would not make a feast, but that would not matter.

  It wanted no uncertainty about where this one was, and left an obvious sign.

  It carried her through the house, pausing close enough to the man sprawled on his bed deep in sleep to sniff the dregs of whiskey. Far enough away to only feel the outer edge of the protective barrier. That jewel hung around his throat, even all dibiguk. Maybe he always wore it; maybe only when necessary. He was a puzzle, this white man. A danger? Or drawn here as part of the path the Odjitcags had written in the stars for this season? The one It carried might be able to answer that. She and this white man had formed a partnership, one which had to do with It.

  A roar built in Its throat, a fierce desire to let the white man know of Its presence, capture him, also, and persuade him to share the knowledge in his mind. The protections he wore made it impossible, though. It wanted to be closer to this one at some point. Some point when he forgot to wear his jewel or carry his own spirit bundle. It bit back the roar with a grimace of disgust. Not now. Not when It was unsure what sort of ability this one claimed.

  The woman continued to fight with all her puny strength, but with power at full bloom, It held her negligently. The man stirred, and It frowned. Did he have the same sort of senses She had? Could he discern Its nearness while he slept?

  Something to think about later. For now, the lair waited. It didn't bother to close the door. This white one needed to wake and realize nothing could stop It.

  Chapter 34

  Caleb slowly woke, realizing he was huddled under the comforter, his nose and ears freezing. Damn, the fire must have gone out again. But…he wasn't at his rented cabin. Last night, he'd —

  He threw back the covers and surged to his feet, his fear and foreboding pushing the slight headache to the back of his mind . The front door stood wide open, an icy breeze infiltrating the room. What the hell…?

  "Nodinens!" he yelled. Had the elderly woman already gone out, not shutting the door completely so the noise wouldn't wake him? "Nodinens!"

  He grabbed the robe and shrugged into it as he rushed toward her bedroom door. At first, he knocked, and when she didn't respond, pounded. Finally he shoved the door open and stared into the small room. He didn't bother to scan it. In front of him was her bed, a bed she'd definitely slept in, but which now lacked its bed clothing.

  "No. God, no," he whispered. Even if the disarrayed bed hadn't told its own story, the smell in here did. The same smell he'd experienced at the wreck, lingering so strong he suppressed the urge to gag.

  He inched forward, hand on his consecrated cross. The thing could still be here, or at least nearby. The smell hadn't dissipated much. The reason he hadn't noticed it in the living room was the breeze through the open door. Even as he moved forward, though, the odor began to disperse, replaced by the icy air. He should have closed the front door. His feet were freezing now, even on the carpeted floor.

  Then he saw it — a brown, greasy clump marring the pristine white sheet. Hair from the monster. Had it deliberately left it? Why? Nodinens wasn't Marten Clan. He remembered what she had said the day they met at Amber's. Nodinens was Pike Clan. Had all their research been in vain? Had they been on the wrong path all along?

  He didn't have time to think about that now. Without touching the glob on the bed — he couldn't have stomached that — he rushed back into the living room for his sat-phone. His cold fingers fumbled the numbers the first try, but he got Hjak on the second.

  "It's got Nodinens," he told the sheriff without preamble. "She's gone, and I know it's the windigo. He left a sign, a clump of his hair. And his smell."

  "Huh? Wha…Jesus Christ. McCoy? Is that you? Listen, man, I just woke up after about two hours sleep. I — "

  "Get over here, Hjak," Caleb interrupted. "I'm not kidding. The fucking windigo has Nodinens!"

  This time Hjak's voice was alert. "God, I hope you're wrong," he said, and Caleb could hear him stirring, moving around. "Is that where you're at? Her house?"

  "I stayed here last night. We worked on the genealogy stuff until late. The goddamn windigo came right in here while I slept!"

  "Look, I've got to get some clothes on. Make some calls. Get my people and Gagewin's over there. Are you sure that thing's gone?"

  "Hell, no. It could be waiting for me to stick my head out the door!" He rubbed a hand down his face as his hangover headache descended. "Look, Hjak, I'm sorry. I didn't meant to blow up at you. But it doesn't make sense. Nodinens isn't Marten Clan, she's Pike."

  "Keep your head inside until I can get there, McCoy. I'll make the contacts I need on the radio while I'm on my way."

  "Can I do anything? Call anyone?"

  "Just get some coffee on," Hjak said before he disconnected.

  Caleb laid his sat-phone down, then shoved his feet into the slippers Nodinens had given him. He wrapped the comforter around him as he strode toward the door. Damn, he felt like he had when he was waiting under the tree yesterday, freezing cold from both the temperature and an inner bitterness that defied words.

  He stared outside, admittedly apprehensive at the possibility he would see the windigo there, waiting for him to find it. That wonderful elderly woman clutched in its grasp, a snarl of victory on its demonic face. An inch or so of new s
now had fallen during the night, covering both his vehicle and the truck Nodinens drove. Had anyone…anything…other than a windigo walked over it, there would have been tracks. Nothing marred the beauty laid out before him, a beauty in direct opposition to the evil that had been here.

  The thing came right in here while I was sleeping. It carried Nodinens off without me even being aware it was that close. If I hadn't worn my cross to bed….

  Due to her clan status, Nodinens must have been confident the beast wouldn't bother her. He hadn't noticed a spirit bundle around her neck when she stuck her head out her bedroom door last night.

  Why did the windigo take the bed blankets with it? It never worried about its prey freezing to death before. Does it mean to keep Nodinens alive for some reason? Oh, god, does the fact I stayed with Nodinens have anything to do with it taking her? Did my being here put her in danger?

  As much as he wanted to charge out there and chase down the windigo, thrash through the wilderness until he rescued Nodinens, such an act would be foolhardy, as well as utterly brainless. He needed to wait for help.

  No one's ever been able to track this monster, Caleb reminded himself.

  "But there's always a first time," he whispered. "We will find it this time! God, we have to!"

  He bowed his head in a brief entreaty for Nodinens to stay alive until they could rescue her, then shut the door and headed into the kitchen. Hjak wasn't the only one who needed coffee this morning. As he passed the couch, his sat-phone rang where he'd thrown it on the mattress. He swiped it up and, without checking caller id, answered as he continued through the room.

  "Caleb?" Kymbria's voice.

  God, should he tell her or wait?

  "How's Keoman?" he asked instead.

  "The same," she replied. "I know I'm probably just bothering you, but I wondered if there'd been any word at all on the people the windigo has taken."

  Something in her voice told him there was more to her question than concern for her people.

  "We're no closer to finding the thing's lair," he said. "Did you get Niona to talk?"

  "Yes," she whispered. "I don't think she told me everything, though, just the lore passed down about this monster. Stuff Adam told her a long time ago. I need to tell you, and it's a long story. Do you have time right now?"

  "As a matter of fact — "

  The siren sounded in the distance, and Caleb cursed under his breath. It grew louder, heading straight for the house. Damn Hjak. Why was he running the siren full blast? But Caleb knew. If the windigo still lay in wait, Hjak hoped the siren would scare it off.

  "What is that, Caleb?" Kymbria's voice rose. "It sounds like…it is. It's a police siren. What are they doing at my cabin?"

  "I'm not there, Kymbria. I spent the night with Nodinens."

  "Then why…what…? Caleb, what's going on?"

  He gritted his teeth and said, "The windigo has her. It came right in here and took her."

  For a long moment, all he could hear was dead silence. Then Kymbria said, "I'll be there as quickly as I can make the drive."

  "No! Damn it, listen. There's nothing you can do here."

  "There might be," she said, her tone a mixture of dread and enigma.

  "No, there's not. Listen to me — "

  But he was talking to dead air.

  Hjak burst through the front door as if the devil itself were after him and slammed it behind him. Caleb laid down his sat-phone and turned on the tap to fill the coffeepot.

  Chapter 35

  "I'm begging you, Kymbria," Niona pleaded. "Don't go back up there! Something will happen to you."

  "Don't you understand? This thing is killing our people. Damn it, eating them!"

  Niona choked on a sob, but said, "It wasn't our business before."

  "Our business? Because it was only Marten Clan getting killed?"

  "Yes…no…oh, god, Kymbria. It's too dangerous for you."

  Sympathy for her mother filled Kymbria, and she took Niona's hands. Her mother appeared to have aged twenty years, her face ravaged with stress and anguish, her dark-circled eyes standing out on her lined face. In her grasp, she could feel Niona's hands tremble.

  "It has to stop, Mom," she said in a soft voice. "Maybe this is the path I'm being led on, since no one before me has had the guts to face this thing. Remember what Adam said. The spirits sometimes direct our paths."

  "Evil spirits can do that, also," Niona insisted. "Please. Just do this for me. Wait another day or so, until we see if Keoman wakes up. We need to talk to him…tell him what I told you."

  Kymbria sighed and dropped her grasp. "Even if Keoman wakes up, it will be a long time before he's cognizant enough to talk to us. That thing took Nodinens, Mom. I have to go. See if there's anything I can do to save her before…before it…eats her."

  Niona reached for her this time, her desperate grip digging into Kymbria's upper arms. "You've got other things to handle. What about Risa?"

  Kymbria forced herself to tolerate the pain from Niona's hold. "Being the type of mother Risa needs is part of what this is all about," she said in a stern but quiet voice. "I can't not face up to my responsibilities."

  "Damn it, Risa is a responsibility, too! More than that! And you're my daughter! I have a right to tell you when you're wrong. Kymbria. Darling, I want to be here for you."

  Kymbria loosened Niona's hands and held them again in hers. "You are, Mom. And no matter what happens, I want you to know I love you and appreciate you. For now, you need to support me on this and take care of Risa while I’m gone. The windigo has focused on me for some reason." She frowned. "Did it…is that why you're so frightened? Besides knowing how it came to be a monster? Did it try to contact you at some point?"

  "Yes," Niona admitted after a brief hesitation. "That's why I don't want you up there during its waking period. One time — the only time — it appeared while I was out snowshoeing. I…was pregnant with you at the time, about three months along."

  Kymbria gasped. "Does anyone else know?"

  "No! No, I never told anyone. No one."

  "What did it want?"

  "I don't know, and I didn't want to know back then."

  "Mom, this might be important. Did it try to talk to you?"

  Niona sighed in deep surrender as she pulled free and sank down on a kitchen chair. Kymbria waited impatiently through the delay as her mother closed her eyes and bit her lip, instinctively knowing pushing Niona now might halt this breakthrough.

  "It…it wasn't really words," her mother finally said in a nearly inaudible whisper. "It was an attempt at mind control, to try to make me have some sympathy for it." Her voice rose and she locked gazes with Kymbria. "But it's evil. There is nothing sympathetic about that beast!"

  "It left you with enough questions in your mind that you researched the tribal history. Traced our lineage back," Kymbria stated.

  "It…it screamed a name into my mind. Nimiwin. I wanted to know who she was. But the woman didn't have anything to do with that beast. She was the wife of a Grand Midé. Cingusi. A powerful one, of the Marten Clan! I told you all this last night."

  "There's got to be some connection, Mom. That's the only clue anyone's uncovered in all these years."

  "It doesn't connect to you."

  "Maybe it does. You were carrying me when it came to you."

  "No! That's got nothing to do with it! Please, please, don't go back up there. If nothing else, think of your own mental state. You're not strong enough to face this thing. You've never seen it. You can't imagine how powerful it is. How evil!"

  Kymbria brushed a soft kiss on her mother's cheek, then placed an index finger on Niona's lips when she opened her mouth for another entreaty. A tear escaped Niona's lashes, and Kymbria wiped it away with a thumb.

  "It has to be this way, Mom," she whispered. Turning away, she walked down the hallway to Risa’s room, where she had placed her daughter in the crib after assuring herself the windigo had given up. Risa lay on her back, eyes droo
ping as she struggled to decide whether to wake from her short nap or linger in dreamland a while longer. On a braided rug beside the crib, Scarlet opened her eyes and thumped her tail. Kymbria hesitated, not picking Risa up. Risa spied her mother, though, and chortled, waving her chubby arms and clenching and unclenching her fists as she begged, "Mam!", one of the few words she knew.

  Kymbria snuggled her daughter into her arms and buried her nose in the soft skin on her neck. She breathed in, capturing every nuance of this child, including her weight and pleasant heft. Risa grasped a handful of hair and tugged. Kymbria flinched in pain, then pulled back with a chuckle as she untangled the tiny fingers.

  "Mama loves you, sweetheart," she said.

  Risa's glee filled Kymbria with a warmth that threatened to forestall her plans to leave. Her oh-so-smart daughter understood, even though her own vocabulary development was only in the beginning throes.

  Would she ever hear Risa say Mam again?

  With a gulp for courage, Kymbria stiffened her shoulders and smiled. "Gamma's waiting to feed you, sweetheart. You ready to eat?"

  "Ga-ga-ga," was all Risa could manage, but Kymbria knew who she meant. Risa shared her love equally between the two most important women in her life.

  Which will be so important to her if something happens to me, Kymbria continued silently. Scarlet trailing, she detoured through her own bedroom and retrieved her already-packed suitcase. Rolling it behind her, she carried Risa into the kitchen, where Niona waited.

  Silently, she handed Risa over as Niona struggled to hide her emotions so her grandchild wouldn’t pick up on them. With one last stroke on Risa's rosy cheek, Kymbria walked to the door. She turned to find her mother's ravaged gaze on her, Risa starting to frown and fret as she caught Niona's mood.