Close Enemies

by Marc Daniel

  Sheila got up and passed her arms around Michael’s neck. She had to be on her tiptoes just for her hands to connect.

  “That was Stephanie, my sister.”

  Michael knew Sheila had a sister but hadn’t heard much about her. The two women weren’t close.

  “Guess what she did?” Sheila’s voice vibrated with excitement.

  “I could try. But I have the feeling I’m not going to get even close, so why don’t you tell me?” he teased.

  “She bought us a week in an all-inclusive resort in St. Lucia.”

  Michael stared with incomprehension at Sheila for a moment. “She did what?” he said finally.

  “She bought us a vacation package!”

  “But why?” asked Michael, realizing his question sounded more desperate than he’d meant it to be.

  “Because she’s nice… I suppose. I don’t think she meant to torture you, Michael. People usually enjoy doing this kind of stuff. It must have cost her a fortune.”

  “I meant why now? What’s the occasion?”

  “Nice save, very smooth… I’m impressed!” Sheila’s patronizing tone was nuanced by the grin on her face. “I don’t know what the occasion was, but I suspect it has to do with the last time we talked.”

  “When was that?”

  “It’s probably been about three months, maybe four. Anyway, we had a bit of a disagreement and didn’t part on great terms. I think this trip is a peace offering.”

  “What did you disagree about?” asked Michael, more because he felt this was the right question to ask than because he truly cared. When one was as socially impaired as Michael Biörn, remaining in a relationship meant having to fake it from time to time. And Michael definitely wanted to remain in this relationship.

  “Work stuff. She couldn’t understand why I’d chosen investigative journalism, a branch that pays nothing and puts me at risk on a regular basis.”

  Michael saw Stephanie’s point, but kept this to himself.

  “And for my part I couldn’t understand why she would sacrifice her integrity on the altar of corporate greed,” continued Sheila.

  “What does she do?”

  “She’s a lawyer for the oil and gas industry.”

  “I see.”

  “I doubt it, honey. But anyway, I think that’s where the vacation package comes from.”

  Michael walked to the sofa, pulling Sheila behind him. “It seems like a big gift…”

  “It is. But she can afford it. She probably makes more in a month than I make in a year.”

  “And when are we supposed to leave?”

  “We can always reschedule, but the original tickets are for this weekend.”

  “This weekend? But we’re in the middle of—” Michael trailed off. Sheila didn’t need to know about the werewolf roaming the park, or the fact vampires from the Western Covenant had most likely driven in front of the house minutes ago.

  “In the middle of what?”

  “It’s just that I have a lot of things going on at the moment. I’m not sure I can take off for a week.”

  Sheila looked disappointed.

  “OK, I promise to think about it. And worst-case scenario, we’ll reschedule and head there later this year.”

  Sheila nodded but didn’t look convinced.

  *****

  Michael walked out of the shower to find Sheila wearing a black, lacy negligee that left very little to his imagination.

  She was looking at him with teasing eyes, silently inviting him to join her on the king-size bed that nearly occupied the entire bedroom.

  As he walked towards her, the towel around his waist fell to the ground. He didn’t bother picking it up.

  “Not so fast,” she said, raising a hand holding the jar of ointment Helen had given him. “First we need to apply this to your legs.”

  Michael didn’t protest. Sheila had gotten in the habit of lathering him with the lotion every evening and he didn’t mind the attention. It didn’t look like the stuff was helping much with healing, but it did tame the pain, at least for a while.

  *****

  After an hour of between-the-sheets workout, Michael was nearly asleep when Sheila’s phone chimed on the nightstand.

  She picked it up and started reading the text message. The device projected its eerie glow on her face, and Michael clearly saw the change on his lover’s pretty features. Whereas a minute ago she’d been at peace and happy, Sheila now looked anxious and concerned.

  “What is it, Sheila? Who is it from?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied, handing him the phone.

  The text message was short and to the point.

  Do you think hiding in Yellowstone will save you?

  “And I suppose the number is blocked?” asked Michael.

  “Most likely,” she said, getting up to retrieve her computer from the living room.

  A moment later she’d plugged the phone into her laptop and confirmed their suspicion. The number was untraceable.

  Michael needed to find out who these bastards were. He couldn’t tolerate threats against the woman he loved. Whoever was behind this would have to go through him before touching a hair on Sheila’s head. But in the meantime, the priority was for Sheila to be in a safe place while they figured out what to do.

  Maybe we should go after all… He thought about it a moment longer, convincing himself this was the right thing to do. That it wasn’t a bad idea at any rate, better than staying here now that Sheila’s enemies knew where to find her. His mind was made up.

  “Let’s go to St. Lucia,” he announced.

  The smile on Sheila’s face was priceless.

  Chapter 23

  In a black sedan parked two miles from Michael’s cabin, Leka’s phone rang and he accepted the call.

  “Change of plans,” he heard a woman’s voice say. “Michael Biörn is heading for St. Lucia.”

  “St. Lucia?” he asked, confused.

  “A small island in the West Indies.”

  “What is he going to do there?”

  “Vacation, apparently. But that’s not the point.”

  It was difficult to fathom Biörn going on a vacation, but the man had proven to be full of surprises on more than one occasion. “What will you have us do?”

  “The flight is fully booked, so I’ve chartered a small jet for the three of you. I want you to keep an eye on him at all times until he gets aboard his plane. And you’ll resume your surveillance as soon as he gets off the plane in St. Lucia. Is this understood?”

  “Absolutely. But he’ll arrive there before us. We might lose him. Do you know where he’ll be staying?”

  “I don’t have this information, but their flight isn’t direct, so you will get there before them.”

  “Them?”

  “His girlfriend is going with him.”

  “What if they split? What should we do then?”

  “I doubt that will happen. If they were to separate, keep an eye on both of them. If you find yourself in a situation where you must choose, remember that Biörn is the target, not her.”

  Chapter 24

  The resort was beyond Sheila’s wildest dreams. The surf was a bit too rough to enjoy the crystal-clear water of the southern Caribbean on this sunny afternoon, but she was content with enjoying the view for now.

  The vast swimming pool located a few feet from the gorgeous beach offered all the relaxation she needed. A drink in her hand, she was watching Michael from behind her mirrored sunglasses. His drink long gone, he looked particularly bored. This kind of touristic destination was the last place the man would want to be. But here he was, taking a proverbial bullet simply to keep her safe. Although there was no doubt in Sheila’s mind that, given the choice, Michael would have chosen a real bullet over spending his time surrounded by drunk, loud-mouthed vacationers.

  His legs were attracting a lot of lingering looks, but it was doubtful he even noticed. The smile on his face looked genuine enough, but she knew bette
r. The grin was only because she was staring at him. He didn’t need to see her eyes to know these things.

  “We should go on a jungle excursion tomorrow,” she said cheerfully.

  The announcement had the expected effect and Michael’s fake smile turned into a real one. “That’s a great idea. I didn’t know you were interested in the jungle.”

  “Of course I am. I’m a huge jungle fan,” she said, a bit too enthusiastically to be sincere.

  “We don’t need to go just for me. I’m happy here.”

  “I love you, Michael, but you’re the worst liar I’ve ever met. You’re only here for me, and I want to go to the jungle with you. That’s what couples do, they compromise for each other. I’m sure I’ll have some fun.”

  Michael was about to reply when the sun, reflecting on something, blinded him for a second.

  Sheila saw his eyes searching the beach.

  “What are you looking for?” she asked.

  “Binoculars.”

  “Binoculars?” she repeated, wondering if she’d heard correctly.

  “I saw a shiny reflection coming from the wooded area at the end of the beach. And since trees don’t reflect much sunlight, I’m looking for something that could.”

  A quick survey of the beach revealed nobody carrying binoculars.

  “I think you’re being paranoid, Michael.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” he replied, sounding unconvinced.

  Sheila kissed him on the chest, which was just at her mouth’s level. “Let’s go for a walk on the beach,” she said, pulling him by the hand.

  She still felt a bit guilty about keeping her call to Ez a secret, but the wizard had insisted on it. He’d asked her to discreetly let him know Michael’s whereabouts, but had offered no explanation for his request.

  *****

  Seemingly reading on a nearby lounge chair, a man was paying close attention to their conversation. The distance separating him from Michael and Sheila was too great for a mere human to eavesdrop, but his hearing wasn’t human, and he’d understood every word.

  This assignment had its perks. This resort wasn’t half bad, and he could take full advantage of its amenities while spying on his mark.

  This wasn’t the case of his accomplice who was stuck in his room, forced to remain inside for fear of being spotted by Biörn. There was little doubt the bear would recognize him the second his eyes fell on him. After all, the man was responsible for the ugly scars on Biörn’s legs.

  *****

  Michael and Sheila were walking hand in hand along the water. The fine dry sand slipped between Michael’s toes at every step. They’d left the hotel behind to explore a wilder part of the island with its large trees and beautiful cliffs. The tide was progressively pushing them closer to the rock face. Soon they were running out of beach and decided to turn around.

  “What are you thinking about?” Sheila asked, after they’d walked in silence for over fifteen minutes.

  “Olivia. She wanted to talk the other day, but I was tired and told her we’d talk later.”

  “What did she want to talk to you about?”

  “I thought it was about the dead bear we found in a cave, that’s why I told her it could wait, but now I wonder. She looked distraught. Maybe there was something else.”

  “You can ask her when we get back. You can even give her a call from the hotel if you really want to. But don’t worry, she’s in good hands.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m talking about Daka. Obviously!”

  “They are good friends,” agreed Michael.

  “I think they’re more than that?”

  “What? Naah… I doubt it.”

  “If nothing has happened between them yet, it will soon. Mark my words.”

  Michael had no idea where Sheila’s certitude came from. He hadn’t noticed anything more than camaraderie between the two.

  “They would make cute babies,” continued Sheila. “I wonder whether their kids would turn out werewolves or skinwalkers.”

  “They’d turn out human. But they’d have a hard time having any kids. Reproduction between the two types of shifters is problematic.”

  “But it could work, right?”

  “It’s not impossible, just very unlikely. But if it were to happen, the kid would be human. The two types of shifter genes appear to cancel each other out. There is a tiny chance the kid would be born a werewolf, but the offspring of such unions are never skinwalkers themselves.”

  “Never ever?”

  “Never.”

  Someone seemed to be jumping up and down on the beach ahead of them. As they got closer, the jumper turned out to be a young native girl of about ten or eleven. Arms outstretched above her head, she was waving at a teenager in the water, maybe her brother.

  The girl looked of mixed heritage, her skin tone not much darker than Wawetseka’s had been. Wawetseka… again. He hadn’t thought of her in years and now this was the second time in a week that something reminded him of the little Potawatomi.

  “Get out. I want to play hide and seek now. You promised,” said the girl. But the teenage boy ignored her and kept swimming among the rolling waves.

  Hide and seek, thought Michael.

  Chapter 25

  A.D. 1667

  Hide and seek had always been one of Wawetseka’s favorite games. It was an educative game for the Potawatomi skinwalkers since it trained their young to use their noses instead of their eyes.

  The woods surrounding Michael’s isolated cabin were perfect for the exercise. The two of them had often played the game together over the years while she was staying with him, waiting for her father’s return from some expedition. But Michael suspected they wouldn’t be playing the game much longer. The little girl was quickly growing. At twelve, she already displayed behaviors Michael found perfectly baffling. Another year or two and he’d likely have absolutely no idea what to do with her… or her with him, for that matter.

  He chased the idea out of his mind. There would be time to worry about it when it happened. For now, he needed to focus on finding his little companion.

  For the first few years, Michael had remained in his human form to look for the child who never ventured more than a couple hundred feet away. But now he had to rely on his bear’s nose to guide him towards the hidden girl.

  The rules were simple. Wawetseka had ten minutes to put as much distance as she could between herself and Michael. Michael was then to find her using his nose alone. The girl was supposed to hide upwind of the bear, but sometimes she tended to blame shifting winds for hiding downwind of Michael’s starting position.

  He suspected Wawetseka had done just that once again. Her olfactory trail dead-ended a few hundred feet north of where she’d started. It could mean only one thing: the little stinker had doubled back on her own steps and gone to hide downwind. A few months ago, she’d have run straight downwind, but the little cheat was getting smarter.

  Michael ran on all fours for half a mile before stopping to smell the air. Still nothing. She was getting faster, too! He ran for another half mile. This time he was able to detect her scent in the air. Anticipating his move, she’d been heading downwind at an angle to maximize the distance between them.

  He followed his nose for a couple hundred yards, readjusting direction as he went, but all of a sudden a different fragrance caught his attention. A mountain lion was in the area, and a twelve-year-old would make an easy snack for the cat if it were hungry.

  Michael started sprinting and slaloming between the maples and basswood trees. Wawetseka’s scent was getting stronger with each stride, but so was the mountain lion’s.

  He finally spotted the cat across a 300-yard clearing. The lion had his back turned away from Michael, its lowered head moving from side to side. He was busy tearing pieces of flesh from a shapeless form on the ground.

  Michael let out a deafening roar as he rushed towards the cat. This got the lion’s attention. Turning a
way from his meal, the cat started slowly moving towards Michael, ready to protect his kill.

  Michael’s blood was frozen in his veins. What was he going to tell Nikan who’d always trusted him to keep his daughter safe?

  As he got closer the cat started making threatening sounds, but it would have taken a lot more to slow Michael down. He closed the final fifty yards in mere seconds and blew a sigh of relief. The form on the ground was that of a caribou.

  “Michael! Michael! I’m here.”

  The voice belonged to Wawetseka and came from higher up in the trees. He easily spotted the child who was waving at him. She looked both scared and relieved at the same time.

  Chapter 26

  The cab driver dropped Michael and Sheila in front of a small shack that was part brick, part corrugated metal sheets. The drive from the resort had taken slightly over an hour. This was just about as far as two points could be on an island that didn’t exceed 250 square miles.

  A man with dreadlocks and a big grin on his face came out of the shack to greet them. “Welcome to St. Lucia. I’m André,” he said, extending a hand towards Michael, who shook it.

  A moment later the three of them were onboard a beat-up Volkswagen van heading for the jungle.

  André spoke more Creole than English, but his Creole was close enough to French for Michael to understand the majority of the conversation. Sheila wasn’t as lucky and simply looked through the window at the patchwork of houses that slowly got scarcer as they approached the edge of the jungle.

  The resort had offered a number of organized tours of the jungle, but none had sounded appealing to Michael. Instead, he’d enquired amongst the locals as to the best way of experiencing the tropical forest. André had been recommended by several people as the best guide on the island.

  “Here we are!” said André, as he parked the van at the end of a dirt road.

  He handed each of them a small bottle of water, which Michael declined. His army-grade camelback was already filled with two gallons: more than enough for the hike ahead of them.