Wendigo Conjuring

by Wendie Nordgren

  Wendigo Conjuring

  By Wendie Nordgren

  Copyright © 2018 by Wendie Nordgren

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, places, and events are fictional and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.

  This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by the United States of America copyright law.

  www.wendienordgren.com

  Cover Design by: Victoria Cooper Art

  Editing Services by: Michelle’s Edits https://www.facebook.com/Michellesedits/?ref=bookmarks

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter One

  Apparently, the honeymoon was over. The four of us were sitting in the office of Mr. Earl Rodgers, the foremost lawyer of Silver Springs in the Republic of Texas. Hillary Rodgers, his wife and secretary, gave me a commiserating shake of her head. Chief Sam Stillwater and Colby Reeves stared stubbornly at each other from where they stood, holding their ground, on opposite sides of the room. Hunting Wolf and I sat on chairs beside each other, and I could tell that our thoughts were mirror images of each other. The two men appeared ready to delve from civilized legal proceedings into uncivilized bloodshed.

  I had already signed the documents that Sam and Colby had insisted upon Mr. Rodgers drawing up. Each of my husbands wanted to be certain that in the unlikely event of anything happening to either of them, not that werewolves and bear shifters were indestructible, that I would be provided for as their wife. Those papers had been signed and notarized without a hitch. It was Mr. Rodgers’ question about changing my name which had set them off.

  Hunting Wolf and I sat grim-faced and listened. It’s not like we weren’t expecting a rehash of this particular argument, we just weren’t looking forward to it. Not having a surname, he cared as much about their argument as I did. I could be Rozene Rumpelstiltskin for all I cared. What concerned me was the current animosity between two of the men to whom I had given equal shares of my heart. I hated for them to fight, but I wasn’t so naïve as to think fighting between us all wouldn’t sometimes happen.

  “I saw her first! If you hadn’t interfered in the first place, this wouldn’t even be an issue. Furthermore, the Reeves family is eager to adopt Hunting Wolf, Avonaco, Growling Bear, Kohanu, Mato, and Silver Star. I say we change our surname to Reeves. The name is well-respected in these parts,” Colby said angrily. He was clenching his jaw, and his eyes had started to glow a faint blue. I wasn’t the only one who was worried he’d shift and destroy Mr. Rodgers’ office. The lawyer had a bead of sweat starting to form at his hairline.

  “The Wendigoag have been welcomed back into the tribe. My brothers should be named Stillwater as should our woman. The name Stillwater is far older and more widely respected than that of Reeves.” Unlike Colby, Sam was stern but in control of his emotions. As Chief of Four Bears and a prominent businessman, he was accustomed to arguing his point with headstrong individuals.

  “I’m your brother, now. Right?” Colby asked. His blue eyes held a serious conviction.

  Sam nodded.

  “Do you see Four Bears ever accepting me?” he asked.

  There it was. It was the insurmountable issue our new family faced. As a werewolf, Colby wasn’t welcomed at Four Bears. Currently, the werewolves and bear shifters weren’t openly warring upon one another, but the prejudices, distrust, and hatred between the two races were deeply ingrained.

  Hunting Wolf said, “All of us are changed. We are no longer what we once were. Our family should have a new surname.”

  Sam and Colby both scowled at him. The two men were proud of the last names, and neither of them liked the idea of losing them.

  “What if you were to hyphenate them?” Mr. Rodgers asked from the other side of his desk where he was under the charming misconception of the safety it provided him.

  Sam and Colby returned to glaring at each other.

  I was over their argument. With a wink at Hunting Wolf, I said, “Mrs. Rozene Stillwater-Reeves. It sounds pretty. What do you think?”

  Rubbing his jaw, Hunting Wolf said, “Hunting Wolf Stillwater-Reeves is a lot of name. However, I see no reason why I can’t continue answering to Deputy Wolf in my official capacity. I like it. It will work.” He nodded.

  Colby and Sam seemed to deflate, like I had jabbed a pin into their egos, and became contrite and complacent.

  Smiling, I repeated, “Rosie Stillwater-Reeves. It’s pretty. The more I hear it, the more I love it. What do the two of you think? Are the two of you willing to change your names so that we all match?”

  In a conciliatory tone, Mr. Rodgers said, “I can handle all of the legalities for a small fee.” Raising an eyebrow, he smiled and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief.

  After staring hard at each other for several seconds, Colby and Sam finally shook on it. Then, another hour died a slow death before we had completed our business and were finally able to leave the lawyer’s office. Stepping outside was like tasting freedom. The sky was clear, and the air was brisk.

  In exasperation, I asked, “Now, can we have some fun? The four of us have the day off.” I made my tone as whiny as possible.

  “Sure. Let’s get something to eat while you tell us what’s on your mind.” Colby rubbed his stomach.

  Hunting Wolf said, “Good idea.”

  Sam nodded his head in agreement. He seemed all talked out.

  They guided me over to the truck, and soon we were seated together at Duke’s Bar and Grill. We hadn’t been married for long, and I was still learning things about the men with whom I had vowed to spend the remainder of my days. A shocking revelation was the amount of food it really took to fill their bellies. During our courtship, each of them had been holding back at mealtimes, minding their manners. However, I had learned that the three of them existed in perpetual states of hunger or horniness. After the last few nights, I was relieved they were hungry. Their appetites for me were almost as fierce as what they currently displayed toward the bowls of chili which they were attacking. Their amorous attentions toward me burned enough calories as to have me gazing appreciatively at the mound of tortilla chips before me, drenched in melted golden cheese and sprinkled with jalapeno slices. Tucking a napkin into the neckline of my dress, I got to work. I loved nachos. After making a dent in the heavenly mountain, I licked some melted cheese from my fingers and caught Hunting Wolf’s heated gaze. It had been a grievous mistake on my part, not due to my lapse in etiquette, but because of the way he was watching my tongue. I got still, and my eyes grew wide and worried.

  Gene, a middle-aged friend of mine who frequented the library, had been spying on our exchange from her booth across the restaurant and was having a good laugh at my expression. “Still getting accustomed to being ridden, Rozene?” she called out.

  “Gene!” I scolded.

  Hunting Wolf laughed. Sam and Colby looked each other in the eyes and grinned. Gene winked at Hunting Wolf. Blaming my blush on the heat of the jalapenos, I kept eat
ing.

  “What do you want to do today now that our business has been concluded, Mrs. Stillwater-Reeves?” Sam asked.

  Excited, I shared my fervent wish for the day. “Let’s get a Christmas tree!”

  Ever since Colby had found a box of Christmas decorations in the attic, my thoughts had been turning nostalgic to a time before the war. It had been a magical time when my parents had been alive. It had been a time when I had seen the world with child-like innocence rather than through the jaded eyes of a young woman who had been forced to face the harsh reality of a decimated civilization without their guidance. The last Christmas we had spent together, I had woken up to a stocking filled with candy, make-up, and a new portable media player. Dad had surprised Mom with a diamond bracelet. After a few hours together, I had ditched them to hang out with my friends. Now, I regretted it. I should have stuck to them like glue. It was too late for that, now, but it was the perfect time to start new traditions with my own family.

  Hunting Wolf said, “I know just the place. It isn’t far from Silver Springs, and we’ll be able to buy winter vegetables while we are there.”

  Sam said, “Why drive out somewhere? We can get a tree and pick up some produce at Four Bears.”

  Hunting Wolf said, “Not as a family, unless you plan to speak to the tribal elders about making an exception for Colby.”

  Once more, his expression turned to one of sternness. “I’m working on it. Our natures are no longer a secret. Hell, Rosie can assume werewolf form, but they won’t speak of it again until next month. They can be stubborn.” He shook his head as if finally accepting the futility of our current familial situation. “Alright. We’ll go wherever it is you want to go. Lead on.” He hadn’t sounded hopeful about convincing the tribal elders to accept Colby.

  Colby said, “We could get what we need out at the ranch.”

  I tensed for another fight.

  Hunting Wolf said, “Or, we could start a new family tradition on neutral territory. We’d be giving our business to some farmers who are desperate for it.”

  I gave him an appreciative smile. I liked the idea of helping those who were struggling to help themselves. Duke caught my attention. He was walking over to us with the bill. “Where are you heading?” he asked. With his bear shifter hearing, he seldom missed out on a word that was spoken in his establishment.

  While Hunting Wolf told him, I excused myself to the ladies’ room. Turning on the faucet, I started scrubbing the cheese off of my fingers and in the mirror noticed a thin line of cheese on my chin and washed it off. My scraped chin had healed along with the rest of me, but if I ever saw the inside of a mine ever again, it would be too soon. However, like the delicious cheese, the gold nuggets I had found had been a sight for sore eyes.

  I returned to the table in time to hear Duke asking Sam, “Will you pick me up some sweet potatoes, avocados, and limes?”

  “How many?” Sam asked.

  “All they are willing to sell you. I’ve got a hankering for some sweet potato pie, and I’ve never got enough guacamole around here.”

  “Yeah, guacamole would have been good on my nachos.”

  Grinning playfully, Duke said, “Bring me avocados, and I’ll make you some.”

  “Alright. Have the chips ready.” I slid my fingers between Hunting Wolf’s and walked with him out to the truck while Sam and Colby argued over who would be paying the bill. They hurried up when they spotted us through the restaurant windows outside by the truck kissing.

  “You think this place will be open?” Colby asked.

  Hunting Wolf helped me into the truck and said, “Yes, the farmers’ market is open on the first and second days of each week. Someone always has something to sell.”

  Once we were on the road and heading away from town, I became excited. “This is our first real family outing! I have my very own family.”

  Hunting Wolf took my hand and held it on his lap atop his faded jeans. A pleased smile was on his lips, and Sam and Colby had smiles of their own.

  After an hour on the road, Sam pointed at a tree. He and Colby grinned at each other, and Colby pulled over. “It’s too high up, Sam.”

  From beside me in the backseat, Hunting Wolf said, “I can reach it.” Getting out of the truck, he transformed into his Wendigo, stepped out into the tall grass, and reached high up into the tree. His tall, gray, gaunt form, mouth full of sharp teeth, long clawed hands, deadly antlers, and glowing red eyes would strike fear into anyone who saw him, well anyone but us. We knew him for who he truly was, not a demon, but a man who had been willing to sacrifice himself to save his people and who had now devoted himself to serving out justice. He walked to the bed of the truck carrying large bunches of the green plants with their white berries. Colby opened up the back of his truck for him and then closed it. The three of them seemed pleased with themselves when we were once again on our way.

  Knowing exactly what they had planned, I said, “Mistletoe is poisonous to pets.”

  Hunting Wolf said, “We will be careful with it.”

  Thirty minutes later, Colby made a pained expression and rubbed at his shoulder. Reaching around the seat, I massaged it for him.

  “Something wrong?” Sam asked.

  Colby shook his head. “It’s fine, just a twinge.”

  I asked, “Why are werewolves and bear shifters mortal enemies?”

  Hunting Wolf answered me. “Bear shifters are born. It is a natural gift. Werewolves are made by passing on an ancient dark curse. Going against nature is shameful to our people as is all dark magic. Dark magic corrupts, and because of these beliefs, my brothers and I had no hope of returning to our tribe. We believed our penance for exchanging our souls to the dark one for power would be to exist as outcasts, untouchables.”

  Sam said, “If you all hadn’t done what you did, there wouldn’t be a tribe. We would have been wiped out by the night hunters you described.”

  His voice thick with emotion, Hunting Wolf said, “We have been given forgiveness.”

  I squeezed his hand. His reaction and that of our brothers at church last Sunday made even more sense to me now.

  Sam said, “You were born as bear shifters. You are part of the tribe.”

  “Before the night hunters attacked our people, we fought many wars against the wolves for food. We were nomadic and followed the herds, but so were they. They would ambush our camps and steal the food we had provided for our women and children. In times of famine, such cruelty is not soon forgotten,” Hunting Wolf said as if he was reliving an ancient memory.

  “Well, hell,” Colby muttered. “Do you want me to turn around and head back to town?”

  My heart sank into my stomach. Were Colby and Hunting Wolf of the belief that the grudges between Wendigoag and werewolves were too much for our new family to overcome? Wasn’t my love enough to hold us together?

  Hunting Wolf said, “Seems like a waste of gas. I can kick his hairy ass in front of his pack if he should require it.”

  Trying to puzzle out whatever it was I had missed, I followed Hunting Wolf’s gaze through the windshield and found Holden watching us. Relief filled me as Holden’s eyes seemed to latch onto mine. They had been talking about him and not each other.

  Colby said, “This explains why my shoulder felt like it was falling asleep. It’s where he bit me.”

  “Are you alright with staying? I know dealing with him is a strain for you,” Sam said as he met my eyes.

  “Yes, husband, I’ll be fine. As long as my men still consider each other to be brothers, I can handle anything.”

  Our door handles made clicks of sound as we opened them and got out of the truck. I spent a moment taking stock of our surroundings. The farmers’ market was a sprawling affair. Colby had parked with twenty or so other vehicles in a gravel parking lot. Sandy paths led off in different directions from it to vendors who sold their goods from beneath portable canopies, from the beds of trucks, from off long tables stacked high with wooden crates, or simp
ly from atop tarps spread out over the ground. Gravel crunched beneath their boots as they joined me beside the truck.

  “Have you shopped here before?” I asked Hunting Wolf as I took his hand.

  He gave me a nod of his head. He had put on a cowboy hat and sunglasses, not wanting to frighten anyone with his red eyes. While he and our Wendigoag brothers had been accepted by the citizens of Silver Springs for who they were, it didn’t mean much elsewhere. Outsiders would see them as demons, and there were one too many pitchforks at the ready out here amongst the farming community. Lifting my hand to his cheek, I coaxed his lips down to mine for a kiss. Softly, he said, “It was my choice, Rozene.” To the others, he said, “I don’t see any motorcycles.”

  Loudly and while converging on our location, Holden said, “Riding bikes isn’t practical when you’re making a supply run.” Duke wasn’t the only one who possessed exceptional hearing. Holden was the Alpha of his pack, a pack to which Colby belonged.

  Glancing away from him and over at a table stacked high with woven blankets, I saw Shana, one of the few friendly female pack members of my acquaintance, and waved. She was dressed in heavy black motorcycle boots, jeans, and a leather jacket. Had I not known her, the manner in which she was dressed and her demeanor would have intimidated me. Smiling, she waved back.

  Holden said, “The grocery store in town doesn’t much appreciate my business, and I’m sure as hell not welcome to shop at Four Bears. Ain’t that right, Chief?”

  Sam took in the market with a slow turn of his head. “It appears much of what you might need can be purchased here.”

  The hard stares the two adversaries exchanged had me fearing that a possibly deadly encounter would soon ensue. Dread filled me and chased away the happiness and excitement I had felt earlier. Couldn’t we simply enjoy our first family outing?

  “It’s alright, baby.” Colby, standing at my other side, pressed a hand against my lower back. “Don’t get upset. I want to see your smile again, the one you had a few minutes ago.”