Bears Behaving Badly

by MaryJanice Davidson, Camille Anthony, Melissa Schroeder

  Oz’s coping mechanism had been the exact reverse: he ate anything he wanted, anywhere he wanted, anytime he wanted, and if people didn’t like it, too bad, and if someone decided to fight him over it, he’d go all in every time. Even if they were bigger and older. Even if it was their French Silk pie. Even if they won every fight, because bear versus wolf hardly ever worked out for the wolf.

  So, the bet.

  “I was afraid I’d hurt him eventually. He wouldn’t quit. Every fight was to the pain.” Why am I explaining this to a dead girl? But she knew why. This wasn’t real. She was explaining things to herself. “That’s all.”

  “Nuh-uh! You wanted to give him back some control. And you wanted to give him a win. So you threw the bet.”

  “Thanks for the nutshell summary.”

  “Welcome. And then I died.”

  “And then you died.” Cardiac arrest brought on by potassium deficiency. “There’s no need to narrate.”

  “Uh-huh! Someone’s gotta remind you it’s worth it, you big dummy.” Opal had finished the cake and was now spooning up the sugared berries. “That’s what you’re really wondering. You think your work is pointless.” When Annette opened her mouth, Opal amended her comment with “You sometimes think your work is pointless. Well, so? Sometimes going to the dentist is pointless. Shopping in the organic section. Um…buying sandals in winter. And…uh…”

  “I get it,” she replied dryly. “And going to the dentist is never pointless.”

  “What, are you shilling for the American Dental Association now? You couldn’t save me, but Oz is still kicking around. You should just let him help you. You think it’s a coincidence that out of all the places he could’ve worked, he ended up in your city, in your building, in your agency? Why was he even around for you to recommend to the Accounting department? He could’ve moved to any city in the world.”

  “I…hadn’t given that much thought.”

  Opal snorted, but thankfully declined to comment. On that issue, at least.

  “Besides, he’s rich. He doesn’t need to work for IPA or anyone.”

  “Really, Annette? You can’t think why a rich abuse survivor would want to help other abused kids? Your mind’s a blank? Nothing’s coming to you at—”

  “All right, good God, I understand.” The civil suit against the school that had dropped the ball when it came to keeping their charges from being poisoned had netted seven figures. When Oz turned eighteen, he received his share. And Opal’s, of course.

  “You can’t save everyone, and no one’s saying otherwise,” Opal said. “You’d be a huge dumbass to try. But you’re not alone. Let ’em help you.”

  “Do you mean ‘him’ or ‘them’?”

  “It’s time to wake up now.”

  “What?”

  * * *

  “Muh?”

  My kingdom for a big glass of milk. Or a little glass of milk. Or a Coke. Or water. Or the blood of my enem—no, I’ve had enough of that.

  Annette Garsea, Patient ID #FM2962–33, opened her eyes and was mildly surprised to find she was surrounded by a number of people, all of whom needed showers. I’ve been here at least a day, then. Glad it wasn’t a coma. Waking up to an adult Dev or an ancient David would have been unnerving.

  “One of you has a sandwich or something, right?” she croaked.

  “See?” Nadia cried, triumphant. “She has regained consciousness and is now hungry and clueless, exactly as I predicted.”

  “Or soup. Preferably in a bread bowl. And I wouldn’t say no to a gallon of iced tea, either.”

  David limped to her bed. Her gaze raked over him; she didn’t think he’d been shot, but he had the beginnings of a glorious black eye, he was carrying himself like a man favoring cracked ribs, his wrist was heavily bandaged, and she knew there were a number of bite marks under his street clothes. Not just the little ones she gave him, either. He was in street clothes but still had his hospital bracelet, so…just discharged, then. And came to see her on his way home.

  She smiled. “Sit down before you fall on me. Which I would have welcomed literally any other day but today.”

  Dev made a noise like a cat about to cough up a hairball. “Gross.”

  David took her advice and gingerly lowered himself into the chair beside her bed, manfully stifling pained groans. “When you said you needed to take definitive action yesterday, you were not fucking around.”

  “This wasn’t quite what I had in mind,” she said dryly. To Dev and Caro, huddled in the doorway: “Are you all right? You didn’t get hurt?”

  “We’re totally fine, bien, bene. You, um, didn’t leave anyone who was able to hurt us. Or walk. Or eat solid foods. Or piss without screaming.”

  “Oh, God, I remember now, there you were, running in at the end like bold dolts.” Annette closed her eyes, appalled. “I’m so sorry you had to see that. I will kill Pat, figuratively, not literally. I recommend therapy on the hour. Starting yesterday.”

  “Aw, don’t be like that.” Dev came over and perched on the edge of her bed. He was still in yesterday’s clothes as well. Did everyone just decide to camp out in the critical care unit? Did the nurses not notice or not care? “He promised you he wouldn’t let us out of his sight. Also, closure, I guess? It was awesome. Well. Not awesome. Gross and scary and a little overwhelming. And every one of them deserved it. And I’m glad they’re all maimed and dead.”

  “Were you yelling at them to play dead?”

  “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do with werebears?”

  “No. Pure propaganda. It just makes us hungry.” And she laughed, which hurt, but…worth it.

  Dev sighed. “I’m just…” She realized he was huddled in one of Pat’s jackets, which made him look small and vulnerable. (Only one of those impressions was accurate.) “I’m just super glad you’re okay.” A pointed throat-clearing from David, who had the most expressive phlegm she’d ever heard. “And you, too, Auberon.”

  “And a little child shall lead them.” Nadia snickered, and Annette’s eyes popped open as she snatched at the other woman’s hand. “Gah! Some warning, please. And could you loosen your grip a smidge? I cannot shake the feeling that you’ve mistaken my wrist for a trout.”

  Annette stared up at her. “I ruined that nice cardigan you picked out for me.”

  “I saw.”

  “But first I put my arms through it. Willfully. For the purposes of warmth. Which I knew you’d hate.”

  Nadia patted her hand. Were her eyes brighter than normal? Was she going to weep? Alarming. “Well, you did almost die, so in my magnanimity, I shall overlook your spiteful sleeve appropriation.”

  “I’m sorry I said I was going to snuff out your life force as I stomped on your face.”

  “Oh? Hadn’t heard that bit. I’m sorry I made you wear salmon in a fight to the death. Well. Deaths, plural.”

  Annette laughed, which hurt. Worth it. “Where were you? I kept waiting for you to spring out and try to kill us. Or spring out and try to save us. How’d you avoid getting caught?”

  “Because I did not march into an abandoned warehouse I was fairly certain housed abusive fucksticks who would kill to keep their secrets?”

  “So that’s the trick,” David said.

  “Jeez, Nadia, do you kiss the Queen of England with that mouth?” Dev asked. “Honest question. I don’t know anything about you. Like, at all.”

  “Quiet, you. I hid my clothes and shifted and watched from the skies, of course. When I saw Taryn arrive in the company of several armed men, all of whom looked inbred—what is it with species purists and unfortunate facial features?—it occurred to me that someone besides Gomph knew where you’d stashed Caro.”

  “Good for you,” David said, grimacing as he shifted in the torture device disguised as a hospital chair. “We didn’t figure that out until Taryn basi
cally told us she was the bad guy.”

  “Yes, which is why you glorious morons were both hospitalized while I remained whole and unchomped. Once I realized who the true mole was, I thought it worth the risk to approach the judge, and so I did. And I used this, so they wasted no time.”

  She held something up. Annette squinted at it (her close vision wasn’t terrific) and said, “When did you lift my cell phone, you sticky-fingered shrew? Oh, don’t even tell me.”

  “You’ll want to charge that, darling.”

  “Later.” She snatched it from Nadia and stuffed it under her pillow. “So we ended up converging where it all started.”

  There was a low rasp as David rubbed at his stubble, shaking his head. “Agh. Itches. It didn’t start with Lund, or even Caro. It started with Dev.”

  Annette realized he was right and cursed herself for not seeing it earlier. Dev had found Caro, made her his sister, kept her as safe as he knew how. Protected her secrets when she was back in IPA’s clutches. Stuck by her like a blond barnacle. Brought everyone together. Repeatedly.

  “You’ve made being a pain in my ass a superpower,” she realized aloud.

  “Not just your ass,” the boy said and smirked.

  “Amen to that,” David muttered.

  “Pay attention to my exposition, Annette.” Nadia managed to look elegant as she snapped her fingers, which was a good trick as she was just as rumpled and dirty as the rest of them. “As I was saying, I approached Gomph, who was most displeased. And not just with us, so that was fortunate. Apparently, he’d been harboring dark suspicions about Taryn for weeks. You’re on medical leave now, but resign yourself to a series of tedious lectures by Gomph and Bob upon your return to IPA’s fetid hallways. And paperwork, of course. Meters of it.”

  “It’s nice to have something to look forward to.”

  “Don’t worry,” Dev assured her. “You’re still our favorite werebear.”

  “Your favorite… Dev, don’t say that,” Annette replied. “It’s like saying Barack Obama is your favorite black person.”

  “Well…”

  “Just stop,” she groaned.

  “Speaking of werebears, and don’t take this the wrong way, Net, but what the hell are you?”

  “Oh. Right.” Not many had seen Annette’s other self. She only got the urge to shift a couple of times a month; weeks would go by while she stayed bipedal, because she had a deep love for her opposable thumbs and being able to walk into any restaurant she pleased.

  “She’s a polar–grizzly hybrid, you dolts.”

  “Those are a thing?”

  Nadia shook her head in disapproval. “Have you never opened a paralogy textbook?”

  “Nadia, be nice. We’d worked together for over a year before you figured it out. My mother was a polar were from Alaska. My father was a California grizzly were.”

  “Why d’you think she keeps the thermostat set at fifty degrees?”

  Annette jumped. “Ack! How long have you been standing there?”

  “Are you asking me, or Oz?” Pat jerked a thumb behind him, and Annette saw Oz peek around her roommate and wave.

  “Hiya!”

  “Good God.”

  “I’ve been here about three seconds,” Pat continued. “I’ve got no idea how long Oz has been here.” Her roommate pushed his way past the kids.

  “My goodness, Pat. A rare foray into the wider world, congratulations. And I simply adore the purple mascara. It sets off your suit to superb effect.”

  “Thanks, Nadia. Also, go to hell. I leave the house all the time.”

  Silence.

  “I do, dammit! I went to the farmers market just a little while ago.”

  “That was the Woodbury farmers market,” Annette said helpfully. “Which closed two years ago.”

  “I rest my case. And I’m glad you’re awake. You look like shit, but not as shitty as I was expecting, so that’s something.”

  “I’m happy to surprise you yet again. Also, the moment I’m out of this bed I’m smacking you around for an hour or so. Pat, what were you thinking, bringing the cubs to that warehouse? Oh, and Oz, I see you hovering in the doorway. You I’ll be smacking around for no reason at all. Come closer.” He obliged, shuffling forward, and she squinted up at him. A few scratches, but his earlier wounds from car vs. werewolf had cleared up. “You weren’t hurt.”

  “Nope. That SAS guard never saw me coming. For a group that loves to insist they’re the master race of all master races, they sure go down easy.”

  “Good God. And you, Pat. Again, what were you—”

  “‘Holy shit, Annette’s gonna maybe die if we don’t do something,’” Pat said. “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “Wait. How did you even know about that w…” Annette’s gaze settled on Caro, still hanging back. “Oh. My God. That took such courage, Caro, and if no one has told you, you’re wonderful. Pat, Oz, you’re still in for a thrashing. Give me that.”

  “What?” he teased.

  “The bag, Pat. The one you’re hiding behind your back for some reason.”

  “No, this is my bag.”

  “Why are you behaving like you think I won’t get up out of this bed and take it from you?”

  “I get off on living dangerously?” He held it out.

  Annette snatched it. She knew what was in the black to-go box, but it was still lovely to behold a small pile of salmon sashimi. There were even chopsticks, which was hilarious.

  “The chopsticks came with it,” Pat explained. “I didn’t bother explaining that you’d be double-fisting salmon into your gaping maw and small wooden sticks would only slow you down and infuriate you.”

  “Wise,” she replied with her mouth full.

  Caro chose that moment to come forward, smiling a little to see Annette’s cheeks bulging with fish. The sight of her reminded Annette that there was still much to put right, that paperwork (as always) beckoned, there was more work ahead, and this wasn’t a neat-and-tidy ending, because real life hardly ever worked that way. But her charges were safe, evil had been punished, and David…well. She’d have to think about that for a bit.

  Caro held out her hand. “Hello. We haven’t been properly introduced. My name is Caro Daniels. And it’s lovely to meet you.”

  Chapter 36

  “Are you sure you don’t need a hand?”

  “David, step away from the bathroom door.”

  “I’m not sure you should be in there by yourself, is all.”

  “If we hadn’t already slept together, I would be mortified that you’re seeing me like this. Well, hearing me like this. And smelling me like this. Through a closed door. Which I’ll soon have to open, so back up.”

  “But we have. Slept together, I mean.” He squashed the urge to scratch at the door and whine.

  “Away!” He stepped back as the door slid open and she limped past him. “I’m growing fond of you, David, but I have no use for a Stage 5 clinger.”

  “Pretty sure I’ve got far to go before it’s that bad.”

  “Lovely. Something to look forward to.” She sighed. “I appreciate that I’m one of many patients, but where is that doctor? He assured me I could leave in time to have lunch somewhere that wasn’t here.”

  “No, he didn’t. He was horrified that you wanted to leave and begged you to stay another night. Which you should, by the way. I’m aware I’m wasting my breath, but I wanted to just, y’know, get that comment on the record.”

  “That money-grubbing reprobate is padding his pockets at the expense of the good people at Blue Cross Blue Shield.”

  “You were shot three times!”

  “One of them was just a graze.” She sniffed. But she gripped his hand as she crawled back into the bed and sighed with relief when she was again settled. “You know the best part about being in the hosp
ital?”

  “Not dying?”

  “The warm blankets. Did you know they have machines just for keeping the blankets warm? So they always have warm blankets on hand? Isn’t that clever? It makes me forgive them for the food. Why do they think Jell-O is best at room temperature?”

  “This is why we should go out,” David decided, settling in the chair beside her bed. “You’re really easy to please.”

  “I’m not, actually.” She gazed at him through lowered eyelashes. She had dark circles under her eyes and the hospital gown was wildly unflattering and she had holes in her that she didn’t have on Monday (and so did he) and it was all outstanding. “So what’s this? I thought you were determined that we were not, in fact, going to go out.”

  “That was before you helped me kill the bad guys. Again.”

  There was more to it, of course. But he wasn’t sure he could explain it. He’d known she was sexy and sweet and dedicated and dangerous. He’d known two days in that she’d kill in defense of herself or others. But he hadn’t known that she’d walk into a pack of warwolves intent on her death, then basically tell them to go fuck themselves, then refuse to meekly relocate to a murder spot more convenient for said warwolves. And all that while expecting her partner to turn up any second and betray her to death. Wearing salmon. On an empty stomach.

  “So that’s all a woman has to do to win your heart? Bite bad guys until they bleed out?”

  “No, she also has to be snarky and constantly forage for buffets and worry about her charges and go through an alarm clock every few days and back-seat drive until the person behind the wheel gives real thought to driving over a cliff.”

  “In what is a truly fantastic coincidence, I possess all those qualities. Dammit! I never did get a chance to buy a new clock…”

  “Yep. So. We’re going out. Will you wear salmon?” he asked. “I fucking love salmon now.”

  “Never again. And that’s how you ask me out?”

  “Initially. I’ll gladly get on my knees for you, but you’ll have to help me back up.”

  “Only if someone helps me up first.” She prodded gloomily at her heavily bandaged left shoulder. “Gah, feels like the slug is still in there, roaming around and freaking out my white blood cells. What was it, a .45?”