Chapter 4
They arrived at the Fairbanks hotel a few minutes after six p.m. local time. The wilderness-themed establishment was busy with summer tourists, but the two Seattle-office DART guys had reserved a conference room just off the lobby.
Scotty had known Skoll for most of her life, but mostly as an acquaintance.
His father, Luc, was a paramedic at Underworld General, so Blade and Mace had spent more time around him than she had.
A tall, tawny-haired male with broad shoulders and intense, crystal-blue eyes, he turned all the girls’ heads.
Scotty had never seen the other guy, Jon, before. He was maybe an inch taller than Skoll, with dark hair and a bullish build that reminded her of her father. She’d bet that when he shifted into a bear, he was massive.
Skoll was friendly enough, offering handshakes and sticks of his cinnamon gum, but Jon was warier, hanging back to study them as if they might be the enemy and not colleagues.
But then, Blade did the same thing. Not Mace, though. Nope, he made himself the life of the party right away, buying a round of tequila shots and ordering moose meat nachos and fries smothered in elk gravy.
“Good to see you guys again,” Skoll said, after a few minutes of catching up and small talk.
And maybe it was her imagination, but she swore his gaze lingered on her for longer than her teammates.
Of course, he had been a little flirty the last time she’d seen him, a few weeks ago at Runa’s birthday celebration.
“Harrowgates are scarce here, so we got a rental vehicle to get us as close to the cabin as possible. We’ll give you the basics right now and will fill you in on the rest during the drive. ”
“Kynan mentioned a cabin.” Mace yanked a chair out from under the table across from her and plopped down on it backward, using the back to prop up his arms. “What’s up with that?”
“Belongs to the guy who first reported the wendigo activity. Nathan Mitchell. Former Aegi. It’s his place. We lost contact with him a week ago.”
“Aegi?” Blade took a seat at the table next to her like a normal person. “Why did he report this to DART instead of The Aegis?”
A server came over with their food and drinks, and Jon waited until the guy was gone before replying. “He did report it to The Aegis, but they didn’t believe him. Told him to contact us, because we ‘love wild goose chases.’”
Sounded about right. The Aegis was full of assholes.
“Kynan said people have gone missing.” Scotty frowned at the taxidermized dead animals mounted around the room. Demon heads would look better. “Did Nathan know them?”
“He knew two of the missing. They were off-grid prepper buddies. Ironically, they moved up north to avoid demons.” Skoll took a couple of photos out of a file and slid them into the center of the table.
“Jason Steele and Gary Lewis. Steele was an Alaskan native who returned a few years ago after separating from the army, and Lewis moved here from Missouri after his divorce.”
Scotty glanced at the photos of the men, both of whom appeared to be in their late forties or early fifties. Outfitted in survival gear and carrying rifles, they looked like they could take care of themselves.
“And Nathan is the only person who has seen a wendigo?” Mace plucked a nacho off the serving plate. “How do we know he didn’t off his buddies and make up the wendigo story to cover his tracks?”
“We don’t.” Jon’s deep baritone echoed through the room, and Scotty shivered in feminine appreciation. Blade’s voice was similar, rumbling and gruff. Mace’s too, but usually only when he was injured, hungover, or lusting after a female. “That’s why we’re investigating.”
Scotty snagged a fry dripping with dark-brown gravy and shredded meat. “How long will it take to get to the cabin?”
“It’s an eight-hour drive to the trailhead.” Skoll popped a jalapeno into his mouth.
“And then a three-hour hike to Nathan’s cabin,” Jon added. “It’s going to be a long day.”
“What about supplies?”
Coughing a little, Skoll reached for his water glass. “We already loaded the truck with enough carry-in rations to last a week. The cabin should be stocked too.”
“Let’s get going, then.” Blade shoved to his feet. “We don’t want to be traipsing around in a strange forest in the dark.”
“Chill, man.” Skoll made an encompassing gesture with his arm, taking in the chainsaw-art grizzly in the corner, the Native paintings on the wall, and everything else in the Alaska-themed room.
“We’re in the land of the midnight sun. This time of year, it’ll be light until ten, and we’ll only have partial darkness for a couple of hours. ”
Scotty had to push the fries aside before she ate the entire plate. “Seems like an odd time of year for creatures like wendigos to be out. From what little research I managed before we came, they’re more of a cold-weather-and-darkness monster.”
“They are,” Skoll agreed. “That’s why this is so strange.”
“So, you believe they’re real?” Blade’s question was more of a challenge than a genuine query. He’d been skeptical from the beginning. “Not a myth?”
“They’re real.” Jon’s voice was a bear-like growl.
“How do you know?” Blade pressed.
Jon gathered the files on the table. “The stories were passed down in my family for generations.”
“Ah,” Blade said. “So, anecdotal evidence.”
Jon chucked the folders into a box with enough force to nearly knock it over. “My great-great-grandfather was killed by his brother, after he was turned into a wendigo by an evil spirit.”
Blade’s struggle to not roll his eyes was making him twitch, so Scotty quickly drew Jon’s attention. “Any idea why a wendigo would be active in the middle of the summer?”
“There are a couple of theories.” Jon looked between the three of them, but mostly at her.
He had gorgeous eyes. Sea green and clear, like the water surrounding her father’s island.
This guy might be a pop-the-cherry contender.
“It’s possible that it was summoned. Maybe by someone wanting revenge on the missing men or to protect the land.
It’s also possible it was awakened from hibernation after a recent earthquake.
We don’t know. But that’s what we’re going to find out. ”
Skoll tossed some more files into the box. “Our supe says you have some sort of new weapon to test on these things?”
“It collects souls.” Scotty gestured to Blade’s backpack, where he’d stowed the Reaper. Out of the three of them, he was the best shot with a firearm or crossbow. Scotty could kick all their asses with every other kind of bow, though. “But it’ll only work if the wendigos are demons.”
Jon lifted his jacket off the back of his chair. “We brought flamethrowers and flammable arrows. Fire’s the most effective weapon against them.”
Skoll, having nearly drained his ice water, paused with the glass near his mouth. “Disagree.” He had nice lips. Not as full as Jon’s, but less cruel. More like Mace’s. And he had a crooked smile like Blade. “Decapitation kills everything.”
“Scotty is amazing with a sword,” Mace said, and she nodded, because yeah, she was. “So, we got the decapitation thing covered.”
“Good. Because wendigos don’t fuck around.” Jon paused, and when he spoke again, his tone was dark. “I’ve fought a lot of demons and not much scares me.”
Blade cocked a dark eyebrow. “You’re afraid of something that’s probably a myth?”
“They’re cannibals,” Jon said gravely. “And they want you alive when they start eating you.” Jon threw on his jacket and scooped up the box of files. “You’d better hope they’re myths, because if you aren’t afraid, you’re an idiot.”
The ride to the trailhead in the Land Rover took forever. Mace hated taking forever to do anything. When he wanted something, he wanted it now. If he wanted to go somewhere, he wanted to be there right now. And when he wanted a female, he wanted her right fucking now.
This sitting-in-a-vehicle shit was for humans. But since Alaska had few Harrowgates—what lunatic demon wanted to haunt frozen tundras and uninhabited forests?—they had no choice but to spend hours on shitty roads, with Scotty squished in the back seat between him and Blade.
Some of the roads could barely even be called such. Rutted dirt trails met with cracked and buckled pavement, and they often narrowed into single, overgrown paths.
They used the time to get to know each other or sleep.
Mace had managed to catch a few winks, and Blade had slept almost the entire way.
At least his eyes had been closed. Still, Mace suspected the guy had kept track of everything going on around him.
Scotty, always a chatterbox, kept the conversation going by asking Skoll and Jon questions about their work and lives.
Mace wasn’t sure he liked how chipper she was, and he definitely didn’t like how much they flirted with her.
She soaked it all up, laughing at their stupid stories. Her words from yesterday kept flashing in Mace’s mind.
I think it’s time to lose my virginity.
Fuck. She’d better not lose it to one of these idiots. Skoll was okay, but the bear shifter was a dick. Way too serious and lacking appreciation for Mace’s jokes. Reminded him of his half-brother, Talon. Still, Scotty giggled and batted her eyes like a teenage groupie mooning over a rock star.
Scotty never giggled. Or mooned. And when had she learned to do anything with her eyes besides roll them? What the fuck?
“We’re a few miles from the trailhead.” Skoll squinted into the early morning sun rising behind some snowcapped mountains. “We should get to the cabin a little before noon. That’ll give us time to get some sleep and plan our hunt.”
“What time is sunset?” Blade asked, his eyes still closed, his head propped against the window.
“Around nine p.m.” Jon steered to avoid a pothole, but managed to hit a different one. Mace’s ass would be broken by the time they stopped. “Darkness at about ten. Sunrise is at six. So, basically, we’ll have about nine hours to hunt this thing.”
“Hopefully, we won’t need all nine,” Blade said, his voice utterly flat. “Because I’m ready to kill something.”
Me, too, Mace thought, as he stared at the back of Jon’s head.
Me, too.