"Go check on his injury," Nodinens said. "I will do the dishes."
Kymbria nodded. She did need to keep an eye on Caleb, although he wasn't cooperating very well. Still, she walked over and sat down beside him on the edge of a couch cushion.
He held his hand out to forestall her when she reached to brush his hair back from the knot above his temple. Hurt stabbed her. She'd made love with this man, and it was definitely lovemaking, not just a release from the built-up tension of sexual abstinence. Perhaps, despite his comments to the contrary, their lovemaking hadn't meant the same to him. She was just a convenient female.
"There could be another reason that monster wanted us to find Len," Caleb interrupted her thoughts, and she admitted to an inward shift of relief. When she lifted an eyebrow in inquiry, he went on, "To reinforce the facts that we are finally uncovering. Len wasn't Marten Clan, so the beast wanted the body found. It — " he grimaced in distaste. " — obviously has some modicum of intelligence left. It probably thought people had already figured out over the years that it only killed Marten Clan."
"And it didn't want us sidetracked by a kill from a different clan. It wants us to stay after it this time. It's hoping to die this season."
"Well, I'm all for that," Caleb said, his eye flashing. "I want it dead, too. But short of humbly asking it to come to us and tell us how to fulfill its wishes, I'm fresh out of ideas."
He frowned at her. "And you still haven't answered my question about what that monster meant when it asked you if you knew who you were. And you told it you did. Now I think it's time for you to tell me."
But in the warmth of the fire, his eyes grew heavy.
Chapter 44
The blizzard continued all night. Without outside communication, all Caleb could do was wait. And try to keep the memories fostered by the inactivity and isolation at bay. His second face-to-face encounter with that damned beast threatened to dislodge the barriers holding back the nightmares that plagued him after his wife and son's disappearance. Thankfully — perhaps due to his exhaustion from lack of sleep the past few days and his injuries — the nightmares didn't intrude when he dozed off.
Doze was the operative word all night, though; he slept only off and on. He kept his back turned to the room as much as possible to forego any further conversation with Kymbria. He still hadn't forgiven her for ignoring his demands and confronting that son of a bitch. He needed to regain his strength, because the moment this blizzard let up, he intended to go straight back to where they had seen the creature.
He wasn't quite ready to discuss another line of thoughts going through his mind, either, especially with Kymbria. He feigned a shift in sleep and turned onto his back so he could slit his eyes and watch her pace the room.
She had never answered his question regarding hers and the windigo's communications. Never told him what her response to the beast's query meant, not even when she realized the telepathic thought had infiltrated Caleb's mind, also.
Do you know who you are? the beast had asked.
I know. My mother told me.
The entity had replied: Then you know it is your destiny to help me.
Those long legs carried her back and forth; slender hands brushed at silky, midnight hair. Hands that could sear a man's skin despite their softness, hair spilling across snow-white sheets in a cloud of temptation. When she knelt to place new logs on the fire, her jeans gloved an enticing ass. He couldn't turn his back again without her noticing. But hell, the way she was avoiding him as much as she could in the cabin confines, she'd never notice his erection didn't seem to be effected by his other injuries.
She left the fire and headed for the glassed in porch. As she passed the doorway, she picked up a shotgun he recognized — the one he'd carried on the snowmobile. Considering her familiarity with guns, she would have cleaned and checked it. She sat in one of the chairs, laid the shotgun across her lap, and her head sank back. Within a few seconds, her soft snores sounded.
Caleb shut his eyes. A gust of heavy wind gushed down the chimney, startling him into alertness. The wind scattered sparks, but the fire screen caught them. He sighed and started to sit up. Pain immobilized him for a second, and he lay still.
He could see Kymbria's bed from the sofa, the bed where they'd spent hours of mind-numbing pleasure. Now Nodinens lay there in the sleep of an elderly, exhausted woman who had been through hell — which she had. The bright red ball of dog snuggled up against her slight mound beneath the bedspread. The dog appeared to have bonded immediately with Nodinens, although it was possible Scarlet was avoiding the jittery Kymbria in preference to the calmer woman.
A final glance at the clock confirmed daylight was near. But outside, the winds battered the trees and cabin, driving snow and ice pellets into obstacles in their path. Coffee smell woke him a long while later, when the clock read mid-morning.
He rose from the sofa with a groan, but either he stifled it enough, or Kymbria decided to see what he could do on his own. She stayed beside the front windows, sipping her coffee. By the time he finished two cups of coffee himself in the kitchen, he felt stronger and crossed the living room, halting several feet from Kymbria.
“Nodinens is still asleep,” he said. “Is there another shower I can use?”
She turned, her face so emotionless she had to be putting on an act. “Of course.” She pointed with her free hand. “The door on the far side of the fireplace. My mother's room. I'll get you some of my brother's clothing from the bedroom next to mine.”
“I'd appreciate that,” he said with a nod as he turned away.
Nodinens was stirring when Caleb returned to the living room. He wore a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a red and black plaid shirt straining at his shoulders, which he'd found on the bed when he left the bathroom. Toweling his hair, he stood in front of the fireplace.
Kymbria had resumed pacing, and on this trip through the confined space, she ended up at the front windows again.
“No let-up?” Caleb asked.
She whirled on him, then strode over and closed the door on the bedroom where Nodinens lay.
“Are you deaf and blind?” she snarled in a sibilant undertone. “You can see out the windows as well as I can, hear the roar of the wind. Can't you?”
“Hey, hey,” Caleb said, flinging the towel over a shoulder. “Did you get any sleep at all last night, other than that little bit in the chair?”
She shuddered slightly. “I've gotten by with not much sleep plenty of times in my life.”
“Why don't you try to sleep now?” Caleb said in a calm tone. “I'll keep watch.”
Kymbria clenched her fists at her side, then appeared to realize how she was acting and forced herself to relax. She strode over to the sofa and sat, then indicated for Caleb to join her. “I can't sleep just yet. And I’m sorry I'm such a bitch.”
“What's bothering you?” he asked as he sat beside her.
She sighed in a tone of resignation. “There's obviously something else going on up here in addition to the windigo kills. Someone shot the man we found — oh, hell, his name is Len. Someone shot Len, and his murder doesn't appear to have anything do with the hunt for this creature.”
Caleb evaded her eyes, but she grabbed his arm and her fingers bit into one of the bruises there. He flinched in reaction and drew away from her. A flash of what Caleb thought might be hurt filled her brown eyes, and she stood and moved to a chair across from him.
“You're hiding something,” she said. “Given what's going on up here, not being forthcoming with each other might add to the danger.”
“What I know doesn't have anything to do with the windigo danger,” he denied. “But…all right. Hjak and I found a huge amount of money in Keoman's jeep after the wreck. Money in amounts like that only come from drug deals.”
She gasped in outrage. “That's impossible! Keoman's a Midé. He wouldn't soil his body with drugs! Sheriff Hjak told me when I first arrived they'd had drug trouble up here. The area's perfect
for transporting them, isolated, the population's minimal. But the Midewiwin teachings ban recreational drug use.”
“I'm not saying he's a user. Not all dealers use. Some are smart enough to just be in it for the easy money.”
She shot to her feet. “He wouldn't! There has to be another reason — it's probably casino money. That's it. He was taking some of the casino money to the bank.”
“I discussed that with Hjak,” Caleb said quietly. “The tribal council doesn't use individual carriers for their money. They keep it under guard at the casino, and periodically, Hjak or one of his deputies escort a casino officer to the bank. If Len's death is connected somehow to this drug dealing, whoever killed him hid his body in a convenient cave. And it happened to be the windigo's lair.”
“What else could it be?”
“We'll let Hjak worry about that.”
Kymbria stared at the front of the cabin, the expressions on her face ranging from disbelief to utter fury. The below-zero outside temperature had penetrated the thick windows with frost build-up at least three inches wide in the corners of the panes and across the bottom. Beyond the windows, it was nearly as dark as night, even though it was only mid-afternoon. The wind thundered through the huge pines and whipped branches against the glass.
“Well, I'll have to wait until this damned weather lets up before I talk to Hjak,” she said at last. “I'll go see what I can find for us to eat.”
Caleb's worried gaze followed her as she strode into the kitchen. He started to rise from the sofa, but a stab of pain in his ribs halted him. He breathed in and out for a few seconds, until the pain alleviated. Just as he steeled himself to get to his feet again and offer to help Kymbria, a crash sounded from the kitchen, then breaking glass.
Caleb rose and shuffled toward the noise, but halted in the doorway. Hands clasped tight over her ears, Kymbria stood in the middle of the floor, staring at the kitchen sink, where a glass bowl lay shattered, as though someone had deliberately thrown it. A gooey mess of eggs intermingled the glass shards. She dropped her hands and turned to him, her eyes full of pain and agony. Perhaps something else, also. A tinge of madness lurked.
Caleb took a step forward. “I'll get some paper towels.”
“No!” Her voice rose in a shriek of anger. “Don't bother with the fucking paper towels! Just leave it alone! It's nothing but a reflection of the mess my entire life's in right now!”
She swept one arm across the table, and the condiment containers and napkin holder clattered to the floor. Her wild gaze searched the kitchen for another point of assault.
She's heading for a breakdown, Caleb thought. It's all too much for her. Or else the windigo's inside her head again.
Caleb stifled the pain his movements caused and rushed to her. He grabbed her hands and clenched her wrists in one fist as his other arm wrapped around her waist. At first, she only screamed in angry bursts, but when he guided her into the living room, she started to struggle. She jerked her arms, trying to free her wrists, and kicked at his legs. Her sock-clad feet did only slight damage, but his efforts to hold her aggravated the pain from his earlier injuries.
“Kymbria,” he soothed. “It's all right. Kymbria, hush.”
“I won't!” she yelled. “Why should I?”
She jerked free and swiped a fist at Caleb's face. He ducked the blow and while she was off balance, he pushed her toward the sofa. She fell with a whoosh of exhaled breath, and before she could rise again, he shoved her down and laid his heavier body over hers.
“Get off me!” she screamed as she beat against his chest. “Leave me alone! I'm sick of all this. I'm sick of being sick of it!”
He captured her hands again and wrested them over her head. He could hear Scarlet whimpering and scratching against the bedroom door, but he couldn't pause to comfort the setter. He was afraid if he lost even one iota of contact with Kymbria, the madness lurking on the edge of her breakdown might prove victorious.
“Go ahead and let it out,” he urged, although he didn't dare move from her. “Tell me what's bothering you this time.”
“Didn't you hear me?” she yelled into his face, a spray of spittle accompanying her words. “Didn't you understand? It's every fucking thing! I came up here to find peace. To get my life back in order so I can be the sort of mother my child needs. But that damned monster won't leave me alone!”
Kymbria caught him off guard and surged against him, but Caleb gritted his teeth at the pain and forced her back onto the sofa.
“What else?” he asked.
“What else? Everything else! I gave the Army a chance to heal me. Did you know I gave up twenty-two years of my life when I resigned my commission?”
“No, you didn't tell me that,” he said in a comforting tone.
She grudgingly went on, “Well, it was time. Every damned uniform I saw reminded me of Rick and the tangled mess we'd made of our marriage, part of it as much my fault as his. The Army let me down even worse, though. It stuck me with a chauvinistic bastard of a psychiatrist who believed women didn't suffer PTSD, only PMS. That they should stay home barefoot and pregnant and let the men fight the wars!”
“And?” Caleb said softly.
“And,” she raved on, her voice again rising, “now you tell me the man I came here to get help from, the man I put all my faith in, the one person I was so sure could heal me, is a drug dealer! He's thrown away all his teachings and turned his back on everything he was taught by generations of healers before him. No wonder the damned windigo got so close to the sweat lodge that night! Keoman's no better than that charlatan of a psychiatrist!”
“There might be another explanation,” Caleb said.
“What if there's not?”
“Then it's a reality you must face, sweetheart.”
“I don't want to! Don't you see? On top of all that, there's a fucking monster killing my people and eating them! A monster my mother finally told me is actually our own ancestor! His evil blood runs in my veins. He's communicating with me! He feels like I owe him, because I’m his great-great-granddaughter! He was inside my mind again a minute ago, in the kitchen!”
“If you let him drive you over the edge, he wins,” Caleb said, but he loosened his hold on her as he tried to digest what she had just said. She'd never alluded to anything like this before, except her insistence the windigo had once been human. If that were true, then…was it possible? The windigo was Wolf Clan, an ancestor of hers?
Did monster blood run in her body, blood from an entity that was evil personified?
“He! See?” Kymbria wrenched a hand free, but instead of hitting him, she punched a finger against Caleb's chest. “You just called him a he, not an it! You're admitting this thing was once a man. A man I'm descended from! What's worse is he impregnated his lover after he turned cannibal…after he'd started to mutate into a windigo. The genes he passed down to his descendants — the genes I'm carrying — are malformed genes. No wonder I'm so unstable!”
The tears kept at bay behind her fierce anger broke free and streamed down her face. Her body collapsed in on itself, and her heartbreaking sobs filled the room. Caleb tried to force himself to gather her in his arms, but the most he could bring himself to do was murmur, “Let it out. You probably need this.”
She gulped back a sob, half-choking as she stared at him, horror crawling across the agony on her face. “No.” She shook her head and fingered back a tress of hair caught in the moisture on her cheek. “No. I…didn't mean to tell you this way.”
He closed his eyes, but visions of Mona and Skippy lit up the darkness, interspersed with that evil entity he'd faced after the wreck and on the trail only hours ago. An entity that would have happily killed him without pause when he lost his cross. He vaguely recalled Kymbria protecting him, replacing the cross. However, any thanks he felt towards her was overcome by the repugnance now roiling in his stomach as he recalled their lovemaking.
He'd made love to a descendant of the same type of monster tha
t killed his wife and son…ate them….
He quickly opened his eyes, but his gaze trapped itself on Kymbria's face. He knew damned well it was his imagination, but her features began to morph into those of the windigo's: hair caught on her tear-tracked face turning brown, lovely eyes taking on a red hue through her tears….
Kymbria scooted into a corner of the sofa, drew her knees up and wrapped her hands around them, her eyes once again midnight black.
“I know what you think of me now. I can see it in your expression. The fact I'm the great-great-granddaughter of the same type of monster that ate your wife and son has finally got past your dick and into your mind. You don't even want to touch me now, even to satisfy your sexual appetite.”
He couldn't deny it. The silence between them lingered until a movement behind the sofa caught his attention and he glanced up. Nodinens nodded at him, then disappeared from view. As he debated whether to try to reason with Kymbria or allow her to retreat into her muddled mind, he heard the faint sounds of the elderly woman in the kitchen, probably cleaning up the mess.
Kymbria's air of loneliness finally won out, breaking through his disgust. It wasn't her fault. How many generations had passed since the monster was human? He couldn't blame her.
Or myself, he couldn't stop his mind from acknowledging. I didn't know what she was when I was falling in love with her. When we made love.
That love would have to be examined now, though.
Caleb reached out and gathered her into his arms. Instead of fighting him, she collapsed against his shoulder as he carried her into one of the extra bedrooms and laid down with her on the bed. Long moments later, she quieted in his arms. He held her close for a few moments longer, but when her breathing slowed, he drew back and studied her tear-smeared face. Assured she was finally sleeping, he rose and covered her with the bedspread.
Caleb closed the bedroom door behind him, and in the living room, laid a couple more logs on the fire before he walked into the kitchen. Nodinens had the sink clean. She stood at the stove, stirring something in a large pot.
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