by Amy Star
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The first thing Jane noticed when she started to wake up was the smell of incense burning. It was a sweet smell, like flower petals burning and vaguely, she wondered why Vincent would be burning incense. Trying to itch her nose, Jane slowly realized that her hand was stuck - maybe it was asleep. But it was odd, as she continued tugging, Jane realized she couldn’t move it at all...
Jane’s eyes flashed open and she pulled at the restraints on her hands but to no avail. She was unable to move them.
Stifling a scream, she looked behind her and saw that they were strapped together with duct tape, as were her feet. Trying to quell the panic rising inside her, Jane frantically looked around the room trying to make sense of it all.
Her eyes bounced off blank walls and empty shelving as she tried to remember what had happened. The last thing Jane had a memory of was pulling out her phone to assure Carrie that she would be back to give her a lunch break mid-afternoon...and then...there was nothing. Jane realized she had no memories until she’d woken up a few moments ago taped to a chair.
The room around her gave few clues. It seemed to be some type of meeting room. The walls were a neutral shade of sand and the table in front of her was made of thick dark wood that seemed to match the heavy chair she was sitting on. The walls and shelving unit opposite her were bare, but freshly clean, as if they’d just been cleared. There wasn’t even a paperclip to pull a miracle off with.
Trying to see out the windows to orient herself, Jane found that she was too high to see anything more than the sky, and she didn’t hear the hustle and bustle of the strip. The biggest clue she could find was that the sunlight indicated that it was late afternoon. Which meant that even though she’d lost hours of time, it probably wasn’t enough that anyone would be looking for her. She would have just missed giving Carrie her lunch break - and Jane hadn’t even had the chance to text her friend that she was coming into Midnight Ink to do that.
Tasting the bile rising in her throat, Jane rued the day she had turned down Xavier’s offer to teach her self-defense in their downtime in the shop. Jane had been far too comfortable with the idea that she was mated to a werebear to worry about protecting herself. What type of feminist did that make her? Not a very good one, she supposed.
As her thoughts cleared, Jane focused on her situation. She could still smell the scent of the burning incense and now that she was concentrating, she could hear the sound of footsteps, though strangely, there was no murmuring of voices. Jane figured she’d been waking up for about a half an hour now – from what must have been a drug which was obviously leaving her system - and for all the action she heard coming from the room outside, there was no communication. Jane figured her best bet was to stay silent until she knew what was going on, and pray like hell that between Vincent’s instincts and Carrie’s friendship, someone would realize something was wrong.
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Vincent had gone over the scheduled time with his tattoo. When he had presented the client with the sketch he’d drawn up as a guide for the tat, they’d both realized that it wasn’t big enough for the area. The client was an up and coming MMA fighter and the shoulder piece was a serious choice for his image. As someone who fought shirtless on a daily basis, the art the fighter wanted placed in such a prominent area was going to have to be tight. The drawing Vincent was beginning with was just too small for its purpose.
After an hour of re-drawing and some helpful criticism from the fighter, they were both satisfied with the result. Vincent was happy to see that not only was his client satisfied, but the art would serve to promote the shop well, through the MMA circuit. With a man-hug and a fist bump, Vincent wished the guy well and turned around to see Carrie staring at him with the stink-eye yet again. Vincent didn’t know if he was angry or exasperated.
“What? What did I do now? Have you and Jane conspired to find something else I’ve done beyond ruining our engagement, romance, and lives?”
“No, Jane hasn’t said anything to me. That’s the problem - I figured you said something to her...she must be hiding out alone somewhere. I was going to try and sneak off to find her in the suite, but it turns out this front desk thing involves more work than you would think. I hope you pay her well.”
Vincent crossed his arms over his chest. “I pay her nicely - haven’t you seen her shoe collection?”
“Hmm. You have a point,” Carrie allowed, “but what did you say that sent her into radio silence. It takes a lot to keep her this quiet…”
Vincent let his arms drop to his sides and frowned. “Carrie, I’ve been back there tattooing for hours, you just saw me walk the client out. I haven’t peed yet, much less texted anyone. I didn’t say anything. I thought you said she was bringing you lunch.” Vincent looked at his phone. “That should have been almost an hour ago.”
Carrie frowned. “I mean, I guess I asked her to bring me lunch, but she never texted back to say that she was going to bring it in.”
Looking at her own phone she confirmed, “Yeah, the last text I have from her is at 11:25 and it was about her being less angry about you. I texted back about how she should take time for herself and grab me lunch, but I guess she never responded. I just assumed that’s what she was doing.”
Tendrils of panic climbed up Vincent’s spine, “So you haven’t heard from her in over five hours? And the last time you did Jane didn’t say where she was going or what her plans were?”
Carrie was shaking her head, but Vincent didn’t see - he was already on the phone with security to have them double check where Jane was at 11:25 and if she was back on the premises. A quick scan using facial recognition showed that Jane had been at the Taxi stand at 11:25 and had not been back on the property since then. A gap in the system revealed that the Taxi stand had a rotating camera, so while they could confirm where she was standing at 11:25 she must have gotten in a taxi by 11:27 when the camera circled around again.
When Vincent shared the information with Carrie, she suggested that perhaps Jane was just out and about for the day, but she didn’t sound convinced and Vincent was downright terrified. It just wasn’t like Jane not to communicate for so long. The woman liked to talk - especially after a fight - and almost six hours of silence was the final nail in the coffin. Vincent knew she’d been kidnapped. This was exactly what Sitting Bear had threatened to do. Now it was up to him and the Mezzanotte Board to find where she was - because he knew those bastards, the Longclaw Clan, had taken her.
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Jane’s eyes fluttered open again to the pitch black of the room. Not too long after she’d woken up the first time, Jane had smelled the sweet incense getting stronger and she had quickly drifted off to sleep again. Like before, Jane freaked out for a moment when she realized she was restrained and alone; this time in the dark.
The only differences she could see as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light were that the day was over and the smell of the burnt petals was now just an afterthought. The sickly sweet scent had been replaced with something more smoky.
As the drugs cleared her system, Jane could smell the very real scent of a bonfire. It was disconcertingly terrifying from inside what she figured was a high-level conference room. Jane couldn’t help but let out a scream of panic. She was alone, bound, and in a burning building - she was sure of it - and the terror took over.
Screaming and bucking on the chair until it tipped over, Jane found herself on her side, face to face with the bright crack of the doorway. The air on the floor was crisp and clean and the surface of the tile wasn’t the least bit hot. Between the fall and the cool flooring, Jane realized that she hadn’t been in as much danger as she had feared, though she’d undoubtedly made it worse. Not only was her right arm now in a lot of pain, but where there had been a busy quiet on the other side of the door all day, now there was scrambling and shouting and the tread of heavy footsteps were coming her way.
The door burst open and the sudden flood of light blinded Jane.
Flinching away from its abrasiveness, she heard the footsteps slow and stop inches from her face. Delaying opening her eyes for a beat, she pretended that if she simply didn’t open them, the monsters wouldn’t be there. It was a lovely thought, but with a deep breath, she steeled herself to see the worst.
Opening her eyes, she was confronted with a disconcerting sight.
There was a massive Native American man standing in front of her in what Jane could only guess was full war paint. His hair was the only anachronism - it was cut short and, if she wasn’t mistaken, highlighted. As her eyes trailed back down the man, she noted that his entire face was painted white with black and red highlights on his cheekbones, chin, and forehead. His chest seemed to be covered with a chest-piece made of tiny beads that created intricate graphic patterns. His pants were a soft brown leather and they were also accented with beading and feathers. Finally, his feet were covered with matching moccasins, which proved just how large the man must be, as his footsteps had sounded like he’d been wearing steel-toed boots.
He reached down to Jane and she tried to make herself as small as possible while taped to a chair. But the man didn’t touch her, instead he lifted her, using the sides of the chair and flipped her back upright as Jane’s head spun. Blinking some more, she brought the full picture into focus. Behind the man stood at least seven other warriors similarly dressed but without the showy chest piece. Jane took this to mean that he was important.
“It’s good that you’re awake, we’re almost ready for you,” he said with a wolfish smile.
“Well, I don’t believe I’m ready for you,” Jane responded with bluster.
The warrior laughed. “Believe it or not, this has always been your destiny, Jane Arnold. Your role in our Clan was predicted many moons ago when your great-great-great grandmother walked the earth.”
Jane shivered at the prophecy, but lifted her chin. “If you needed me to play a part in your Clan all you had to do was ask. I’m really a nice person.”
The warrior walked slowly around Jane’s chair, placing his hands on her shoulders and speaking into her ear. “Oh, I don’t know that you would have agreed to participate if you knew the whole story. You play an integral but, shall we say, unsavory part in this ritual.” Jane’s body betrayed her and one terrified chill erupted through her body.
“You see, it was predicted that a human would be mated to the First Son of a rival Werebear Clan and her coming would be the downfall of the Longclaw Clan. You almost made it, rushing the engagement and mating ritual - but that party with your girlfriends...it tipped us off that you were close to fully mating the First Son. If that happened, then our Clan would cease to exist. Luckily we caught you before that could happen.”
Jane swallowed hard, trying to follow the logic. “So, all you want me to do is not mate Vincent? I don’t need to marry the man - we can all live in peace if I live in sin, right?”
The warrior slowly shook his head “No, there is no way a mated bear wouldn’t complete the mating ritual eventually, especially a First Son. There are laws preventing such things. No, you cannot simply walk away from this. In fact, we’re going to make sure you don’t walk away at all.”
THE FINAL CHAPTER
So far, they had nothing. They had less than nothing, to be specific, because the address the Longclaw Clan had used for their headquarters was a front and the Werebear Board member they’d managed to contact for information was still passed out, due to an overzealous punch from Vincent himself.
The man had started by spouting off some prediction about how Jane was going to be the end of the Longclaw Clan and Vincent’s mating hormones had gotten in the way of his logic. It was lights out for the poor guy before Vincent could see that the opinion he was expressing was not his own. One of the board members had called his wife for old-fashioned smelling salts. Vincent rolled his eyes, thinking that this was one of the benefits of long life...outdated remedies were readily available.
The other members of the board were running searches on their computers or trying to reach out through their networks to try and locate where the heart of the Longclaw Clan was held.
However, again and again, it seemed like they reached dead ends.
Unbeknownst to the Inter-Clan Board, the Longclaw Clan had been slowly slipping into the shadows for the last decade or so. From what the Mezzanotte Clan could gather at that point in time, the Longclaw Clan had started offering to come to other Clans’ territories when official business needed to be held. It wasn’t an unusual offer and most Clan Boards were happy to host a meeting rather than arrange travel for their already busy board members. However, no one had noticed that the Longclaw Clan hadn’t invited anyone into their territory in a decade.
This meant that gathering intel about where the Clan was based out of, had been difficult. Their best lead came from ransacking the original offices. A werebear had been there alone, simply sitting reading a book. It was as if he’d been waiting for them to arrive but before he could tell his whole tale, Vincent had knocked him out cold. The rest of the Board was obviously not happy with the development and Vincent would have beat himself bloody for the stupid move had it not been - well - himself.
Now Vincent paced around the unconscious man, adding his penchant for rash behavior to the list of things he’d need to work on before becoming Clan Leader.
As Vincent rounded the guy for the umpteenth time, the smelling salts arrived. Xavier took the stuff and rushed to break the vial beneath the werebear’s nose. The noxious smell permeated the room and one by one all of the werebears’ noses twitched, their sensitive sense of smell reacting to the fumes.
Slowly, the unconscious man groaned. His eyes blinked open and then drifted shut again. Xavier made a frustrated sound low in his throat and broke yet another vial. This time the man’s eyes popped open in a flash and he almost fell out of his seat trying to get away from the smell.
Vincent stopped his descent before the man toppled to the ground with his hands and feet bound.
“Steady, you’re bound and we don’t want to hurt you if we don’t have to. You’re being held in Mezzanotte territory close to the border of Longclaw. We just want more information about why my mate Jane was taken.” Vincent was proud that he’d managed to speak in a voice that sounded steady. He thought he was going to jump out of his skin with need to find out where they were keeping Jane.
The man gave Vincent a long low look before searching the other faces surrounding him. “I suppose it was a tactical error to tell my story with a little flair to the mate of the missing woman.” The wWerebear rolled his eyes and tried to roll his shoulders as well. “Care to unbind my hands?”
Xavier jumped in the man’s face. “Care to tell us what’s going on?”
“What time is it?” the man asked, finally taking note of the darkness outside the windows. Frantically he looked back to Vincent. “What time is it?” he demanded again.
“It’s six o’clock.”
“Gods, we have to go now.” The man started struggling against his restraints again, this time Vincent was afraid he was going to hurt himself in the process.
“Slow down, just tell us what’s going on - and do it quick.”
Looking up, the man stilled. “There was a prophecy three generations ago that predicted the human mate of the Mezzanotte Clan would be the end of the Longclaw Clan as we knew it. The current Sitting Bear was just a cub at the time. When his father was Sitting Bear, he thought that the prophecy indicated a new stage of growth for the Clan.
“But when the current Sitting Bear took over and watched as the Mezzanotte’s territory grew in prosperity, the interpretation of the prophecy changed. He grew paranoid and claimed that the human mate would be the end of the Longclaw Clan altogether. Sitting Bear decided that the mate had to die before the mating process was complete. We thought there was more time, but you fast-tracked the engagement. We thought we had at least a year to contact you.”
Vincent’s stomach dropped.
“The Clan can’t protect her if she’s not officially mated to me. We were expediting the process to protect her from your Clan.”
“That’s what the meeting was supposed to do - to scare you into making a move like that. I’ve been working with a subset of the Longclaw Clan that still believes the previous Sitting Bear’s interpretation of the foretelling. As your own Clan Leader said, human blood can only strengthen a werebear’s bloodline. It’s rare to have a mating of the two species but when it happens, only good comes of it. There are many of us who believe that it’s good for all of us, not just your Clan.”
Vincent stared hard at the man in front of him. He was obviously someone who had risked his life and position to warn them of the impending attack. It had taken guts to risk being beaten and kidnapped to share the innermost details of his Clan’s board. However, at this moment, everything rested on the choice to trust this man - would he lead them to the truth? Or would he lead them away from Jane and her salvation. Vincent’s gut said to trust the man with the honest eyes.
“Xavier, cut him free,” Vincent said with authority.
Xavier looked to Vincenzo for confirmation and at the Clan Leader’s nod, he took a knife and slit the ropes open. The Longclaw man extended his hand to Vincent and introduced himself. “I’m Ronan, one of the members of an underground board of the Longclaw Clan. It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”