Duel Nature (10 page)

“Oh, you mean when Mr. Cleveland threatened
Chris with a gun?” Mitch answered.

“What did you see, Mitch?” Garth asked.

“Well, we had just paddled out on the water
after meeting Chris and Awasos. Didn’t get a chance to meet you,
ma’am,” Mitch said, directing the last at Tanya with a nod. “Then
Cleveland marched up like Billy the Kid and started yelling. He
lifted his shirt and had a gun under it.”

“You’re making that up! There’s no way you
could see that from the pond!” Cleveland yelled.

Mitch put his hand on the
binoculars and held them up. “Gordon was studying some
water-striders, so I was watching Awasos through the binoculars, so
yeah, I did s
ee.
By
the way, the dog never left Chris’s side and he never threatened
anyone.”

“You people are
making
me
out to be
the bad guy! I’m just protecting my son and pregnant
wife.”

“Your son was polite, kept his distance and
was never in any danger. Your wife called him back from the door of
your cabin,” I said.

“Mr.Cleveland, I’ve heard enough. Lock your
gun in your cabin or your car. If I see you with it or hear of
anymore waving it around, you’ll be asked to leave. Mrs. Gordon,
did you still want me to call the sheriff?”

Tanya pretended to think about it, while my
link told me she was more bemused by being called Mrs. Gordon. “No,
Mr. Boklund, I think we’ll be okay if the Clevelands just leave us
alone.”

I happened to glance at the main lodge and
saw all three Boklund women lined up, watching the drama. I started
to look away, then did a double take. They were holding hands, but
it was their their expressions that caught my eye. Britta was
looking anxious, while her sister Erika looked intrigued and even
smiled when she saw me look their way. Quinby, on the other hand,
looked determined and deadly serious, like she was holding guns,
not hands. It was such an incongruent scene that it caught my
attention.

Garth directed Cleveland back to his cabin
then turned to us. “It doesn’t sound like your pet did anything
wrong, but we’ve already had our share of problems with wolves and
dogs. So you’re gonna have to leash him.”

“Really? Here in the middle of a national
forest?” I asked, angry.

“Really, Mr. Gordon, I have a business to
run, one that depends on my guests staying safe,” he said, in a
level but firm tone.

The logical part of my brain came to his
rescue, realizing that he was very much right. The back of the
Tahoe had a single length of chain, included for the purpose of
providing just this sort of camouflage. I dug it out.

“That’s
what you leash him with?” Gordon asked. All three men were
studying the length of super heavy duty tow chain with almost
identical incredulous expressions.

“Well it’s the lightest that will hold him,”
I answered, wrapping the length of tow chain around one of the
cement cabin piers that held up the little porch. Truth be told,
the chain would never hold him, but how do you explain that the
offspring of the Fenris wolf was gonna break any chain you could
find. “However, I’m a bit worried about the pier.”

“You’re kidding? Right?” Mitch asked.

“Not entirely. See, he won’t go anywhere if
we’re nearby, but if we, say, went to the lodge and he got anxious,
then he might pull free. It’s honestly something of a nightmare
trying to keep him tied up….it’s a damn good thing he doesn’t like
to run like some mutts,” I explained.

I snap linked the chain to his heavy collar,
ignoring the look he was giving me. We both knew that I would let
him off as soon as everyone left, but he still liked to put on a
show.

“Wow, he’s really expressive! I swear you can
read every expression on his face!” Garth said. Awasos’s current
look was less than complimentary to me.

“Ohhh, yeah, you’re on his shit list!” Mitch
said.

Tanya strolled over to Awasos and crouched
down, somehow managing to maintain her modesty as she wrapped her
arms round his massive neck. There was quite a bit of highly toned
leg showing though. Garth didn’t appear to be heading anywhere
soon, until a loud throat clearing from his wife caught his
attention.

“Well, I’m sorry for this Chris, but you’ll
understand I hope?” he said, his eyes coming back to me for a
moment, then flicked back to Tanya or maybe just her legs. “Ma’am,”
he said, with a nod.

He started to turn away then came back two
quick steps till he was close enough to speak quietly and not have
Mitch and Gordon hear.

“Quinby was very worried when I was escorting
Cleveland here to talk to you,” he said.

“Well the guy does seem to have a temper,” I
answered, puzzled by his comment.

“It wasn’t Mr. Cleveland she was worried
about,” he said glancing at Tanya, Awasos and back to me. He held
my gaze for a moment, conveying some message of warning, then
left.

When Garth was about halfway back to the
lodge and his waiting women, Mitch spoke.

“That was interesting,” he said. “Oh, I’m
sorry, ma’am. I’m Mitchell Chance and this is Gordon Stanger.”

“Oh, this is my wife Tatiana,” I said,
belatedly.

“But you two will call me Tanya,” she said
with a smile, shaking both their hands.

Chapter 11

The professors went back to their cabin and
we went into ours. I lounged on the bed while Tanya dressed in
black jeans, black shirt and cute little hiking boots.

“Okay, there is something odd about the
Boklunds, particularly Quinby,” I said.

“I think she’s a witch,” Tanya said.

“Well sweetheart, you have that effect on
other women – they get intimidated.”

“No, Chris, I mean that I believe she is a
real witch,” Tanya said, giving me the look she reserves for when
I’m being slow.

“Oh…why do you say that?”

“See, I know that you look at them and see
one quarter of a Swedish volleyball team, but I’m not blinded by
blonde hair and big boobs. I’ve seen quite a few witches during my
life, plus it’s one of those feelings I get like I’ve seen this
before only I haven’t. Like déjà vu.”

“Like your mother encountered something while
you were unborn?” I asked.

“Yes, precisely. One or two of her necklaces
seem familiar in a witch way,” she said, working her thick midnight
black hair into a ponytail.

“Well, if I scan her aura I can probably tell
right away,” I said, “and I was thinking more like the Swedish
National Bikini Team.

“That’s a good idea,” my vampire answered.
“We could use a big bunch of ice, don’t you think?” she said with
raised eyebrows.

The ice machine had been near the office

“And Chris?” she asked then continued at my
lifted brow, “No one has a National Bikini Team.”

“Well men everywhere would agree that that’s
a damn shame. But the ice is a good idea. What are you going to
do?”

“Awasos and I are going for a little nature
hike,” she said as she dug a set of blades from her suitcase.

The sun was still pretty high but she seemed
fully awake and the woods would be shaded. They headed into the
thick woods near the cabin a few minutes later, just a girl and her
oversized wolf-dog.

I turned from watching them go and spotted
movement by the massive woodpile. A man I hadn’t seen before was
standing, watching them head into the woods, then he looked me
over. Middle-aged, maybe late fifties, around my height of
five-ten, wearing stained jeans, workboots, a dark tee shirt and
heavy gloves. His hair was black and his eyes dark, face tanned and
weathered. As soon as he noticed that I had noticed him, he went
back to work, a partial cord of neatly stacked wood giving
testament to his efforts at organizing Garth’s mess.

Watching him as I walked toward the lodge,
ice bucket in hand, I waited to see if he would look up, hoping to
start a conversation. My hopes went unfounded as he carefully
avoided looking my way. I opened my Sight, that way of looking at
the world and seeing what everyone else misses. His aura was the
normal blue of solid human, but something about him tugged at my
awareness, a little pull of memory or recognition.

The big industrial ice maker was just outside
the door to the office, tucked under the eaves of the roof where it
was accessible to both cabin guests and any guests of the lodge. I
shoveled the bucket full with the ice scoop, trying to catch sight
of any of the Boklunds through the screen door. I could hear them
inside, but none of them wondered through my view point. A scuff of
shoe behind me brought me around. Erika was coming out another door
marked ”laundry” with a basket of clean towels and she pulled up
short when she saw me, a big smile lighting up her face.

“Finding everything okay, Mr. Gordon?” she
asked, with perhaps more interest than most teen-aged employees
would muster.

“Yeah, thanks Erika,” I managed, while
scanning her with my Sight. Her blue aura was flecked with black
and twin pools of deeper black stained the necklace and bracelet
she was wearing.

“
Well, if you need anything,
or any help at all, just let me know,” she said, her smile warm
enough that even I got the hint. She stepped forward and brushed
something off my sleeve.

“You had a bug on your arm,” she
explained.

“Erika! Your sister is waiting for those
towels!” Quinby said from the office doorway behind me. I had heard
her approach so I wasn’t startled like Erika was. The pretty blonde
jumped at her mother’s sharp words, then with a frown thrown at her
mother and a final smile for me she turned and headed into the
lodge.

“Mr. Gordon, I told my
husband that we should return your money and send you packing but
he insisted that we let you stay. But I will warn you – I know
what
she
is and I
will protect my family!”

Quinby’s aura was even more flecked with
black then her daughter’s and her jewelry all inky pools of stored
witchy power. I don’t like witches much, nothing good had come from
any of my encounters with them.

“Well, ma’am, it seems that everyone at this
resort is full of warnings and threats…not the happy, relaxing
place your website proclaims it to be,” I told her. “And just to be
fair, we know what you are as well, so I’ll tell you this. We are
no threat to you and your family, or anyone here for that matter.
But if someone attacks us, well then ma’am, I’m pretty sure you’ve
never seen anything like us.”

She digested that for a moment, her arms
crossed under her rather impressive chest, eyes angry, but with a
touch of worry. “There are things in this forest that aren’t
impressed with her kind, things that only stay away because of me.
You would do well to cut your stay short and get away from
here!”

She turned and left, leaving me with confused
thoughts and a bucket of ice. I turned and started back to the
cabin, noting that woodpile man wasn’t there anymore. However, an
older model Jeep Cherokee pulled into the resort and pulled up in
front of cabin three. The driver was a big guy, six-three, maybe
two hundred and thirty pounds. Close cropped brown hair that was
just beginning to salt and pepper. I judged him at thirty-five
years old and also figured him for a cop based on his careful,
sharp-eyed scan of the resort. He noticed me right away, studying
me in the direct way that men in authority will. The passenger was
a decent sized six or six-one, probably a healthy one ninety in
weight. He looked frazzled, tired and distracted. He had the same
brown hair as the driver, but without any gray, maybe in his early
thirties. In fact, it was quickly obvious that the two were
related, likely brothers. They were very alike aside from the size
difference, and the fact that the younger one was a werewolf.

It’s just something I can tell, some ability
that comes with the rest of my freaky package. I can always tell
vampires and weres at a glance. My Sight showed his blue aura to be
riddled with green splotches, the sign of the LV virus. He was
fairly new to the condition.

The werewolf brother didn’t notice me,
seemingly self-absorbed as he pulled a couple of shotgun cases from
the back seat of the Jeep. Both brothers were dressed in
camouflage, but it all had a brand new, fresh-from-the-store look
to it.

Apparently, I showed too much interest as the
older one’s hard-eyed stare got colder and he hustled his brother
into their cabin, his sharp eyes flicking from me to the Tahoe and
back. The Jeep’s plates were Michigan and like Cleveland’s BMW, the
plate holder told me the name of the dealer who had sold it. Steve
Dimer Chevrolet-Jeep-Honda.

My iPhone had enough signal to tell me that
the Dimer dealership was in Grayling, Michigan right on I-75 in
Crawford County, Northern Michigan. Grayling seemed pretty small so
I checked for Crawford County’s sheriff department and found a PDF
with the previous year’s sheriff’s report. It came complete with a
staff photo. In the back row, on the left side, dressed in
emergency response team tactical gear with a stoic look on his
aviator sunglass covered face, was the older of the two
brothers.

Chapter 12

I noticed Britta walking along the cabin road
and it looked like she was headed for the same destination I was –
cabin three. As soon as she saw me she swiveled and headed to the
professors’ cabin, her voice loud enough to hear as she asked if
they needed anything. Then with a glance my way she headed back to
the lodge, a slight air of frustration about her. Interesting.

The older brother answered the door when I
knocked, filling the doorway aggressively.

“Yeah, something I can do for you?” he asked,
wearing his professional law enforcement look, one he had probably
practiced in front of a mirror early in his career. Up close he was
younger than I had thought, maybe early thirties, despite the
premature gray in his hair.