Color Weaver Read Online Free PDF

the core.
    Then the rest of what Meikoda had said came back to her. You must find and destroy the sketch that we missed years ago…. It is the binding that ties you explicably to the wendigo.
    She had to think. There must be another drawing that wasn’t destroyed the last time the wendigo appeared twelve years ago.
    Summer ran her fingers over the smooth oak of the easel, something she liked to do while she composed a picture or thought. The wood felt solid, just like the man who had built it. She remembered how protected she used to feel when Reese held her, how safe she had felt around his father. Sheriff McMurray had liked her. He’d raised Reese alone. His mother had died when he was three. Summer remembered cooking their meals and bringing them cookies whenever she could. She had loved to see the smiles on their faces….
    “Wait a minute.” Summer sat up, closing her eyes. She remembered now. When she was ten, her mother had asked her if she could copy her folklore poster and sell it at the silent charity auction, and she had agreed. So who bought it? Think! It had been so long ago. It seemed like three lifetimes had passed.
    Summer thought back to that sticky August night, the speaker goading people to make bids. She’d been excited because it was the first time she had ever sold her artwork. She hadn’t thought the sketch was very good at all.…
    She remembered now.
    A sick, dizzy feeling whirled in her head. Sheriff McMurray had purchased it. She remembered that because even at ten years old, she’d had a crush on Reese. And he had come to the auction and all the girls had flirted with him, which had made her sad because she didn’t think he had even noticed her. And he hadn’t until they had gone to high school. What if that picture had caused the wendigo to stalk the sheriff? At the time of his death, she couldn’t figure out why the wendigo had attacked Reese’s father. His body had never been discovered, either.
    Only his coat had been discovered near her house. Right after that the wendigo had left Jason Smith’s bloody shirt on the hood of her car and it had been found in her high school parking lot. No wonder Reese thought she was involved in the disappearances.
    Summer felt her shoulders slump. So many deaths because of her power. She felt horribly responsible. Before the wendigo killed again, she had to find out if Reese still owned the poster, or if someone else had it now. But how?
     
    Reese stepped out of the shower and toweled off his body. He’d been so tired that morning that he’d fallen into bed. He only wanted to sleep a couple of hours, wake and get backover to Summer’s and stake out her place. But he’d slept all day and battled wendigos in one nightmare after the other. Summer was in every dream, and he was protecting her from the wendigo—when he wasn’t having sex with her.
    No use denying there was still old chemistry between them. He felt it whenever he was in the same room with her. And he’d almost kissed her when he’d been forced to keep her from falling in his office. Good thing his senses had returned before it had been too late.
    After grilling her, he was more certain than ever that she was connected to this wendigo, and she was the only shot he had at stopping this ghoul and finally getting revenge for his father’s death. He had always known she was somehow connected to his father’s killer, whether it was a monster or not. He might not have believed such an impossibility if he hadn’t seen the damn thing up close and personal himself. He just couldn’t forgive her for this power she had over the wendigo, even though his traitorous body still wanted her. Well, he was a professional and the only time he was going to get close to her was to put the handcuffs on her.
    He finished drying and changed into jeans and a chambray blue shirt and tennis shoes. He was walking into the kitchen when a knock sounded at his door. His gut clenched. Had there been another