Wendigo Conjuring

by Wendie Nordgren

  “What if I don’t bother to look?”

  “Then, you lose, and I get to have my way with you all night.”

  “What if I win?”

  “Then, what we do tonight is up to you.” Grinning, he said, “Start counting. Don’t peek.”

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head at him. “How many hundreds of years old are you?” He blew me a kiss and sauntered off.

  I ordered a coffee.

  The man I had been questioning before Holden’s interruption asked, “Aren’t you going to look for him?”

  “I can find him with my eyes closed, and he knows it. I’m trying to think of a way to wipe the smug look from his face.” I sipped my coffee and contemplated the situation. I wanted to turn the tables on him but had no idea how to do it. Frustrated and determined to get our little game over with, I trudged up the stairs to where he was “hiding” in his room.

  Chapter Ten

  I took a deep breath and took a hold of the doorknob, expecting to find him naked in his bed and ready to pounce. Instead, what I found brought tears to my eyes. He was sitting at the room’s small table with two worn copies of Cyrano de Bergerac in his hands.

  “I thought to pass the time, we might read this together. You can be Roxane.” He seemed different, almost fragile and unsure, as if he feared I might humiliate him with my reaction to his proposal. Slow steps took me to the vacant chair beside him. “What did I do wrong?” he asked as he reached up to wipe a teardrop from my cheek.

  “Nothing. This is the sweetest, most thoughtful thing you’ve ever done for me.”

  “I figured since we kind of rushed forward with the physical intimacy that you might want to take a step back. We hadn’t spent much time together under our metaphorical flag of truce, and I want to get to know you better.”

  Meeting his eyes for a moment, I nodded and looked away. “I’m more to you than just a piece of ass.”

  “Damn right.”

  Taking one of the tattered copies from him, I opened it and told him which parts each of us would be reading. My bossiness had him grinning.

  We spent the afternoon reading and discussing the play. He read beautifully which impressed me. It was the most I had laughed and enjoyed myself in days. Closing my copy, I said, “Maybe, you’re not so bad after all.”

  He moved from his chair to kneel in front of me. “Like Cyrano fearing to tell Roxane how he felt, I doubted you could ever give someone like me a chance. I don’t have a huge nose giving me self-esteem issues, but I’m a werewolf with an ugly past and share some of it with you. Maybe, I thought I could love you vicariously through Colby. I don’t even know. My feelings get tangled up when I think about you and trying to sort ‘em out knots ‘em up even more. I keep trying to understand you, and today helped. This is what you want. You don’t want me raising hell and showing off. You don’t want my power over the pack. You just want to spend time together and get to know each other. Flashy shit doesn’t impress you. You liked the tulip I gave you more than the fancy flowers I brought to you at the library that day. A good, dependable man means more to you than a chunk of gold.”

  “A good man is worth more than gold.”

  “If a good man is gold, you’re a diamond, sweetheart.” His stomach growled prompting me to laugh. Another noise drowned out his stomach. “Sounds like a storm is coming.”

  I listened to the sky rumbling, but it didn’t feel like a typical storm. The air felt charged and not with the energy of a thunderstorm. Remembering what Hunting Wolf had taught me about using my Wendigo to sense evil, I opened myself to my other form, slipping into it with the ease of a breath. “This is what I was trying to explain to you earlier. It’s not pack magics being strengthened by a mated pair. This is something else.”

  The gathering storm sounded as though it gained strength with each passing moment. Outside the sky darkened. Holden pushed aside the drapes. Standing and moving to kneel on the seat of a chair, I looked out at the rolling clouds. They billowed and boiled maliciously.

  “Is it a tornado?”

  “No, you’re right. This ain’t a typical storm.” He rubbed his stubbly jaw, and I could tell he was using his own senses to search the gathering darkness.

  Black lightning tore through the sky, and the electricity in the hotel shut off. Its departure left us in an encompassing silence which only lasted for seconds before the storm howled its rage. A strong wind made the decorative trees adorning the hotel’s sidewalks sway from side to side as if they were participating in a macabre dance. What leaves had remained on their branches were torn from them like sacrifices. They joined forces and swirled across the cement parking lots like miniature funnel clouds. Thunder made the window rattle. I scanned the area and hoped no one was caught outside. A lone figure standing at the corner of a building a few blocks away caught my attention. The person was dressed in billowing black robes. In more than simply the odd fashion choice, something was off. A normal person would be running for shelter or speed walking to a vehicle. The individual in question stood still and seemed to be looking right at me. Pulling on my Wendigo, I used my enhanced vision to see and then quickly regretted having done so. Solid black eyes returned my stare. She had long dark hair whose ends raised into the air. Slowly, she lifted her hands and face toward the dark, angry sky. From our vantage point, I could still see her eyes, unblinking as rain fell into them. Her lips moved as if she was chanting.

  “Look.” I pointed her out to Holden.

  “Shit. This ain’t a storm. It’s a fucking conjuring.”

  “So, she’s a witch? Do you recognize her? Maybe, we should go up to the roof for a better vantage point. She might not be alone.”

  “Damn, female. You think because she’s a witch that I know her? I didn’t get involved in any of Sophia’s crap. I tried to get her to leave it behind, but she was addicted to the power it gave her over others.” Holden howled softly, and I could feel it in my chest. It was the call of the alpha and didn’t need to be loud to be heard. It was a call which was felt by all who shared the bond of the pack. He turned from the window and strode purposefully toward the door. “If I told you to lock yourself in the bathroom and get in the tub, would you listen?”

  “Nope.”

  “Didn’t think so. Stay close.” He made his way in the dark to the stairs.

  The emergency lighting flickered for a brief moment before the generator in the basement kicked on. The lights remained on for a few heartbeats before they slowly faded as if the generator’s power was being syphoned. Outside, the wind screamed its rage and buffeted against the building’s exterior.

  “It’s not safe on the roof,” he said dryly.

  “I think you’re right.”

  “Whew wee! I don’t think I’ve ever heard a woman agreeing with you,” John exclaimed. He and the others were waiting for us when we stepped out onto the first floor.

  I stared at him with my glowing red eyes until he broke the contact and dipped his head. It was either my Wendigo or my status as alpha which had caused him to submit. Which it had been wasn’t important. I wasn’t in the mood to be teased, not with witchery being directed at us forceful enough to control the weather and drain the town’s power. Striding past them, all in my black leather and denim, I went to look out of the glass doors at the front entrance.

  “What the hell is going on out there?” Holden asked.

  Moses said, “Whatever they’re doing out there, we could feel the wards Cecil put up fail.”

  “Permission to investigate?” Moses cocked his head to the side and waited.

  “Granted, but don’t engage. Find out how many of them there are.”

  Moses gave a sharp nod of his head, and six of the men moved silently toward the exits. One of them walked past me. As he opened the door, a sudden gust of wind blew inside bringing the cold air and dead leaves with it. He shifted into his wolf when the door closed and quickly blended in with the environment. I felt the urge to go with him to hunt. Placing my
hand on the door, I prepared to follow him. A strong hand gripped my wrist, and I turned my head to look up at Holden.

  “None of that, sweetheart. You’re staying inside. Both of us are.” His lips turned downward in the corners as he began to feel the draw to leave, the same one I was feeling. “This ain’t good.”

  “What ain’t, boss?” Cord asked.

  Holden locked eyes with me. “Come away from the door. They’re trying to manipulate us into going outside. As soon as either one of us goes out there, they’ll attack.”

  “They’ve already destroyed whatever protection Cecil left, so what’s stopping them from coming inside?”

  “We are,” Holden said.

  A horizontal burst of power, like lightning comprised of black smoke and steel, flashed across the parking lot. It found its target with a sizzling snap. The howl of pain which followed had Holden running back to the door. Cord opened it and ran out. He returned with an injured wolf in his massive arms, its paws dragging on the floor. The wolf’s fur smoked, and scorch marks and seared, blackened flesh covered him from his hip to his back paw. He growled, snapped, and intermittently whined pitifully and snapped at Cord. Careful of his fingers, Holden wrapped a strong hand around the wolf’s muzzle.

  “Put him down.”

  Cord carefully obeyed while Holden kept the injured wolf from mauling anyone. Once he was laying on his side, Holden made him shift. I covered my mouth trying not to become sick. The man’s hip was like raw hamburger meat. The grievous wound which would have killed a human slowly began to heal around the edges as we watched.

  “What did you learn?” John asked of the other scouts who had returned and angrily watched as their pack mate suffered in agony. Murder was in their eyes, and I was glad that I wasn’t the intended recipient of their hatred.

  Holden forced the injured male to shift into his werewolf, his wolf, and then back to his human form. Each time he did, I could feel a slight draw on my energy. I wondered if we all felt it. The transformations sped up his healing until only bright-pink flesh remained.

  A man said, “There are six of them. They’ve got us surrounded and are moving in closer, but they’re doing it as one. It’s creepy as fuck because they can’t see each other but move at the same exact pace. It’s like they are shrinking a bubble around us or something.”

  “Evacuate the civilians from this building. Send two wolves with them to protect them. We’re getting the fuck out of here. I think we all smell a trap.” Holden gave a sharp nod of his head, and men scattered to do his bidding. To the man on the floor before him, he asked, “You good?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good, get off your lazy ass and help.”

  He got to his feet and with only a slight limp walked away. One of his friends clasped him on the shoulder.

  I averted my eyes from the man’s naked backside. “What do we do? How are we supposed to fight witches who can attack with electrical blasts?” I asked.

  John answered for Holden. “I’m curious to see what the grenade launcher will do.”

  With a nod of his head, Holden said, “Load for bear. Let’s ambush them.”

  “You heard him! Hustle! To arms, men! You,” he said to me. “Which weapon would you like to try your hand at?” John asked.

  “I’m better with my knives. I’m a terrible shot.”

  “I know just the thing. Follow me.”

  Holden was busy shouting orders, so I went along with John to a banquet room which had been turned into an arsenal. I glanced skeptically at a box of grenades. Tossing a couple of them into the nest of night hunters had been unnerving, and I wasn’t eager to use them again. After a moment of searching, he found what he wanted. He tossed me a nylon belt with an attached sheath of wood and metal.

  “Put that on.” Once I had complied, he held a sword over his arm for me to see. I touched the blade and yanked my finger back, sticking the injured digit in my mouth. “Watch yourself, it’s sharp. This is a Hanwei Ox Tail Dao made of high carbon steel. It might be a bit long for you, but it only weighs a little over a pound. If one of them witches gets a bead on you, go for her head.” He handed the curved sword to me, and I carefully sheathed it.

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  “Move! Move!” Holden yelled. The building shook as if a tornado was about to rip it apart. With his large body, he herded me toward a side exit. Cord and Tim stayed close. “Hunt,” he ordered with a feral rage. They had attacked his own and threatened his mate. He was done with the diplomacy and caution for which Hunting Wolf, Sam, and Cecil had argued.

  “Are you sure about this? Cecil suggested staying away from them.”

  Looking me in the eye, he said, “The only good witch is a dead witch.”

  “That’s harsh. I thought some of them were good.” Cold wet rain spattered against us with the angry hisses of snakes as we stepped outside. Clouds like angry smoke from a burning building roiled in the surrounding sky.

  “They ain’t witches. They might want to call themselves witches to make themselves sound mysterious, but they’re more like folk healers. Real witches delight in bringing pain and misery to others. It’s why the Bible says, ‘You shall not permit a sorceress to live.’”

  Raising an eyebrow at him, I countered. “Doesn’t the next verse say, ‘Whoever lies with a beast shall surely be put to death?’”

  Scowling, he said, “I’m not a beast. I’m a man with the intellectual ability to reason, and I possess free will.”

  “I’d prefer to go with the New Testament if it’s all the same to you. I wouldn’t want to get stoned to death for collecting fucking firewood on a Sunday.”

  Holden held up his fist for silence and motioned with his hand for his men to shift. “Stay out of this if you can. If you can’t, kill first and ask questions later. We’ll let the good Lord straighten it all out with them at the pearly gates. This is an ‘it’s them or us’ situation, and it sure as hell ain’t gonna be us. They decided to come after us and are gonna get what’s coming to ‘em.”

  Some of the pack had shifted. They moved stealthily to surround the witches and worked to herd them into open spaces where they could attack them. Crackling energy tore through the air in a scorching path, leaving howls of pain in its wake. The unmistakable boom of a projectile being launched was punctuated with an earsplitting boom. Joining the recursive blast of power which sent us all sprawling onto the ground were the furious screams of the five remaining witches.

  Holden said, “Well, the grenade launcher can kill ‘em.” His words weren’t celebratory. Through the pack bond, we could feel the weakening strength of one of the wolves, critically injured by a witch’s magical attack. “Try not to get hit.”

  If the remaining five witches were linked to the powers of hell through the dark one, they unleashed it upon us in a hate-fueled deluge. Above us, the bricks and mortar came tumbling down on our heads. A clump of bricks hit my shoulder, scraping the side of my face as they did. A sharp, excruciating pain radiated through me. It felt like the impact had broken my clavicle. Holden grabbed my other arm and yanked me to safety. My Wendigo quickly healed, but had Holden not pulled me away when he did, it would have crushed my skull. I wouldn’t have healed quickly from such an injury, but that seemed to be the plan. Hands raised and black veins marring her pale skin, a witch with hair that writhed like angry snakes stared at us with solid black eyes from a few blocks away. She stood in the middle of the street. Cord, Moses, Tim, and John opened fire with the machine guns they had brought with them. The spray of bullets hit an invisible barrier and not the witch. The air before her shimmered like water into whose surface pebbles had been dropped. With a wave of her hand, our backs struck the brick building behind us. I felt crushed to it. It was like being on the Zero Gravity ride at the fair. Plastered to the wall, I only managed to move my head to the side, but I kept my eyes on her.

  Thrusting her hands forward with the heels of her palms up, black light
ning shot from her and into us. I screamed as what felt like knives of fire ripped across my ribs. In a blink, she appeared within twelve feet of us. A blur of brown fur barreled into her from the side, breaking her concentration and knocking her to the ground. The six of us fell to the concrete from where we had been stuck to the building like bugs on the grill of a speeding car in June. Pain jolted through my knees with the impact. The wolf stopped shaking his head from side to side while mauling the witch’s arm and went for her throat. Soundlessly, she lifted her ravaged, bloody arm and hurled him up and through the air into a defunct traffic light. Metal screeched. The wolf hit the ground with a thud. The lights swung while making a grating, rusty sound. The pole onto which they still hung was bent from the impact. Shakily, he got his legs under himself to stand, but she had returned her full attention to us. John and Cord had begun firing at her, but their bullets were ineffectual. She waved her hand, and the weapons flew from their hands and into the side of a building where they broke into pieces like the toys of children broken during tantrums.

  Holden kneeled beside me. His heavy breathing was accompanied by the sounds of his blood as it splattered in thick drops to the cement. In a burst of speed, he shifted into his wolf and launched himself from beside me. But the witch wasn’t alone. Solid black eyes in a pale, black-veined face wearing a demented smile suddenly appeared right in front of me. Before I could so much as lift my hand to touch her, I was on my back screaming as pain unlike anything I had ever before experienced snaked through me. My bones felt as though they vibrated with agony. Laughter filled my head. It was the dark one, but he didn’t bother with promises. He only wanted me to suffer.

  Pushing the pain from my mind, I ignored what my body was telling me and used all of my strength to lift my right hand. It was like trying to push a parked car. I screamed not with pain but with effort. A wolf sailed over us and hit the bricks to my right with a jarring thud. It distracted her enough from her attack that I was able to grab a few strands of her hair. It was all I needed. I prayed with all of my might for Jesus to protect me from her foul, evil energy, and to forgive me for what I had no choice but to do if I were to survive. My Wendigo had a deep hunger and salivated when she sensed evil.