“Yes!” she hissed to herself when she discovered it had been scanned and uploaded to the university’s servers. For $5, she was able to download it to her computer, all 300 pages of it.
Her foot tapped an impatient rhythm on the Turkish carpet as she waited for the document to download and open. This was the first possibly-legitimate item she’d found on the existence of werebears, and she’d spent a fair amount of time looking over the past several months.
From the moment she started reading the treatise, her eyes started drooping from boredom. This guy is dry as toast, she thought as she skimmed page after page of boring hypothesis.
“Lycanthropes have played a small but vital role in the history of global societies for millennia. Every European culture claims the existence of such creatures, which include a variety of apex predator species, most notably those belonging to the families Canidae, Felidae and Ursidae.”
Geez, what a snore-fest, she thought as she clicked through looking for something interesting. When she reached the section titled ‘Lycanthropes in Modern Culture’, she slowed down. The writing was as dry as ever, but the author made a compelling case for the existence of werewolves, werecats and especially werebears. He even claimed to have witnessed one shifting in his youth.
An hour had passed by the time she reached the last page. “Though the scientific community might scoff, the evidence is clear and irrefutable: Lycanthropes exist and have infiltrated every culture in the world.”
The sound of Max’s keys in the lock drew Bethany’s gaze. She couldn’t help herself. Every time he entered a room, her pulse beat just a little faster. And every time, he gave her the smile he was giving her now. Beaming and warm, with a touch of devilry thrown in for good measure.
“Hey, babe…and baby,” he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead and then her belly. She buried her fingers into his thick dark hair while he murmured a greeting to his cub in his clan’s native tongue. She was picking up a word here and there, but it was a difficult language and she had little hope of ever becoming fluent.
As he pulled away, he glanced at her laptop. “What’s this?”
“Oh, it’s actually pretty interesting. This guy wrote his doctoral thesis on how lycanthropes are real. He has a lot of stuff right, from what I can tell.”
“What’s his name? Scanty or something?”
“Scantling. You’ve heard of him?”
“Yeah, rings a bell,” he said, standing and stretching his back, his rippled abs peeking out from under the hem of his tight black t-shirt. “If I remember right, the rest of his world thinks he’s a nutjob. That paper made him a laughingstock. Wasn’t he booted out of his program over it?”
Bethany shrugged. “He seems to have a lot of details.”
He nodded, his expression pinched. “Yeah, if it’s the guy I’m thinking of, he wormed his way into one of those tiny mixed villages in Eastern Europe. No one had a clue he was trying to gather evidence of our existence. It was a pretty big deal at the time, but I was just a kid back then. In fact, the Brotherhood was formed not long after that to encourage clans to withdraw from human communities.”
“Veronica mentioned something called the Brotherhood in her email.”
His thigh muscles rippled against his jeans when he sank into the couch next to her and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. His bulging bicep was warm against the back of her neck as he pulled her closer.
“Yup. It started innocently enough but, over the years, it’s morphed into something pretty ugly, kind of a Bear Power-type of movement. Members think nothing of terrorizing werebears who befriend — or God forbid fall in love with — a human. It wasn’t until they killed the human husband of a high-ranking werebear that they were officially denounced.”
“But they’re not gone, are they?”
“Nope. They just went underground. Unfortunately, many clan leaders know who among them are members — hell, some of them are in the Brotherhood — but they usually just let them do their thing, turn a blind eye.”
Memories of late-night phone calls calling her horrible names, threatening her baby or saying nothing at all flooded her brain. “That’s who’s been bugging us, isn’t it?”
Max frowned and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Most likely.”
An icepick of fear stabbed at her gut. “Are…are they dangerous?” she whispered.
“Nah,” he said dismissively. He unwrapped his arm from her shoulder and pushed off the couch, heading to the kitchen. The distinctive sound of a cap being twisted off the top of a beer bottle reached her ears.
“How do you know that? Didn’t you just say they killed a human mate?”
He stepped into the hall, leaning his shoulder into the wall and crossing one foot casually across the other. “Huh?” he asked.
Her eyes narrowed at him. With his supersonic hearing, there was no way he didn’t hear her question. He was stalling. “How do you know the Brotherhood won’t hurt us?”
“Because.” He shrugged and tipped the bottle to his mouth.
What kind of answer is that? “Because why?”
He huffed in exasperation and dropped the beer from his lips. “Because I’ll be damned if some bigoted punks are gonna get anywhere near my mate and cub.”
Bethany’s blood boiled. How dare he brush off her concerns about a marauding gang of murderous bears?! This wasn’t the type of thing that could be brushed under the rug with no consequences. If she or her baby were in danger, she had a right to know.
“Well, doesn’t that just make me feel all safe and secure.” Sarcasm had always been one of her favorite — or at least most-used — defense mechanisms and old habits died hard.
Max’s tan skin began shimmering and he seemed to suddenly grow about three inches. “Don’t question me, woman!” His voice became deeper, too. All telltale signs that his inner bear was getting riled and trying to come out. But that didn’t frighten her because she knew he was still Max in shifted form and he would never hurt her, even if his bear took over. In fact, it made her even angrier that he and his damn bear were trying to intimidate her.
Dragging herself and her mighty belly into a standing position, Bethany stuffed her fists onto her hips and glared him down, tears of anger pricking her eyes. “I am your mate, Maximilian Pearce, not your fucking subordinate! Don’t you ever talk to me like that again.”
In a fury, she yanked open the front door but turned back before storming out. “When you’re ready to discuss this as partners, I’ll be next door.”
~ * ~ * ~
As the door slammed shut, Max cursed under his breath. “Real smooth, asshole,” he mumbled to his bear…and himself. He only wanted to protect her, ease her mind. She was already worried enough about the pregnancy, she didn’t need this piled on top.
He raked a hand across his scruffy face. Dammit, now I need to shave again. Every time he shifted — or almost shifted — his human form was left with a scrubby chin.
The urge to chase after her was overpowering, but that would probably only lead to another blow-up. Better to just let her chill out for a few minutes. He took another cool swig of beer on his way to the bathroom for his second shave of the day.
Maybe they both needed to chill out. The pressure of their situation was really getting to them both, and maybe his latest assignment would afford them a bit of space to reflect. The harassing calls had tapered off to almost nothing, and he had to believe that Chet would step up to keep an eye on her if he left town for a few days. Plus Paul and Kimmy were right next door. She would be safe.
Safer than where he was headed, anyway. That woman’s email indicated the Brotherhood had a strong presence in Kodiak, which was exactly where the International Council was sending him. That group of backward-thinking bigots had very strong ideas about interspecies relationships, and had been known to get violent. He didn’t want Bethany anywhere near the place, under the circumstances. He could handle whatever bullshit was thrown at him, but there was no way
in hell he’d put her or their cub at risk.
The towel was soft against his skin as he patted his face dry. He took one more bolstering swig and a big, deep breath as he headed next door to tell his angry and very hormonal mate that he was leaving town the next day.
“I don’t know why you won’t go out with him.” Veronica’s best friend Grace Harnig was sipping coffee from one of Keith’s favorite mugs. She’d tried to set up Veronica with any number of eligible bear bachelors since Keith died, but the timing was never right. Now she was pushing a successful cannery owner on her.
“I dunno, Grace, I hear he’s kind of arrogant and a total player.” Oh, and did I mention I’m in love with a human?
“But you gotta admit he’s totally scorching, right? I mean, the dude is rockin’ that bod, and he’s got that dark hair-blue eye thing going on. Do you know how rare that is in weres? Besides, he can’t be all bad — he does a ton of good deeds around town.”
Veronica shrugged. “I guess…” She yearned to tell her best friend about Jess. That’s what girlfriends did. They gabbed about boys and supported each other no matter what. But she was terrified to tell anyone in her community about her feelings. If word got out, her life in Kodiak might as well be over.
“Well, you need someone in your life, chica. It’s been, what, six years since Keith died? You have to be getting horny by now.” Grace winked lasciviously, making Veronica giggle.
“Psh! Who needs a man when you have the, and I quote, ‘World’s Dopest Dildo’?”
“Hey, I put a lot of thought into that Christmas present!”
“I’m sure you did. I just wish you would have warned me so I didn’t open in front of my kids and in-laws!”
Their laughter filled the outdated-but-spotless kitchen nook.
“But seriously, babe, we need to get you hooked up already,” Grace said, sniffing back tears and catching her breath.
Veronica felt her skin heating up with her lie of omission and stood quickly to refill her mug. But it was too late. Grace had caught her blush.
“Ohmigod! You found someone, didn’t you? Is it serious or just a fuck-buddy? Who is it? Is he hot? Tell me everything right this instant!”
It was almost a relief to be caught. She wanted to share this part of her life with someone so badly, but she wasn’t sure how to start. She couldn’t look Grace in the eye as she sat down with her mug.
“It’s no big deal, Grace. It’s just an online thing. Not like it’ll go anywhere.”
Grace’s gaze burned into her, yet she still couldn’t meet it with her own. That chip in the rim of the mug suddenly became incredibly fascinating.
“Holy shit,” Grace whispered. “You’re in love.”
Veronica’s eyes shot up to her friends and then darted away. “No way. I’m just having a little fun. I haven’t even chatted with him for a few days. Now drop it.”
Her chair screeched as she got back up and went to the fridge, letting the chilled air cool her hot face.
“How could you not tell me, Ronnie? After all we’ve been through together?”
The pain in Grace’s voice cut Veronica to the core. They’d been best friends for a decade. She’d done more to help her through Keith’s death than anyone else, and then practically became a second mom to the boys. She deserved the truth, as hard as it would be to admit.
Clearing her throat did little to break up the log jam that was preventing her from speaking. This was the hardest thing she’d ever done.
Just do it, babe. Keith’s voice rang in her head. Rip it off fast. It’ll only sting a little.
Veronica met Grace’s hurt gaze and took a lungful of air. “His name’s Jess Slade. I met him online and he’s here on the island for the summer but we haven’t met in person yet. It was only supposed to be a little harmless fun but we really connected.” She paused to lick her lips. “Grace, he’s human.”
Her statement was met with silence. Grace’s jaw slackened and her mouth dropped open as she struggled to process this new piece of information. Finally gathering her wits, she managed to whisper, “Human?”
Veronica nodded. Holding her tongue seemed like the right thing to do at the moment. If she started talking, it was almost certain she would babble on incoherently. Her bear was nervous, wanting to run away, but she was determined to stay put and answer any questions Grace had. I just hope she doesn’t hate me, she thought as eternity ticked by.
Almost in a daze, Grace stood slowly and moved to the living room window. She hugged herself as she stood there staring out at the pothole-filled street.
“How far has this gone, Ronnie?” Her voice was deadly soft.
“Grace, I haven’t even met him in person yet, I swear.”
The cold glance Grace cast at her made her bear shiver in fear. Even though she was much smaller than Veronica, Grace had always been more dominant, stronger, fiercer. “Yet?”
“Well, he wants to meet. I’ve been putting him off but…”
Grace turned back to the window. “But what?”
Summoning Keith’s strength, she blurted it out. “I love him. He’s absolutely everything I want in a mate. He’s stable, he’s kind, and he really wants to meet the boys.”
“But he’s human.”
She nodded, knowing Grace wouldn’t see it. “I know.” She felt defeated. The same conflicting emotions she’d been struggling with for the last couple of months resurfaced and threatened to break her.
“What should I do?” she pleaded.
Veronica recognized the determined set of Grace’s shoulders as she turned and strode briskly back to the table. Relief flooded her at the thought of someone telling her what to do. It was always so much easier when you just followed directions.
But it isn’t as satisfying, is it, my love?
She mentally shushed her dead husband’s voice. He’d always been a bit of a pain in the ass that way, always making her think for herself. A brief flash of grief burned through her soul, as it always did when she thought of him. She was resigned to them now, knowing they’d pop up at unexpected times, but they were growing shorter and less devastating as time dragged on without him.
Pulling Veronica up by the hands, Grace said, “You need to do the right thing, Veronica Muir.” She pulled her into a tight hug, then released her and gathered up her purse and coat.
Veronica was speechless as she watched Grace turn and walk to the door. “What the—“ she lowered her voice, in case the boys had woken up from their nap “—eff is that supposed to mean?! Grace? Grace Harnig, get back here right now!”
But she was already at her car with clearly no intention of explaining herself. As Grace was climbing up into her gigantic brown SUV, Veronica resorted to begging. “Please?”
Grace glanced down at her, giving her a sad smile. “You’ll figure it out, chica. I love you, remember that.”
And with a slam of a door and the roar of the engine, Grace was gone, leaving Veronica standing in her doorway like a schmuck.
“Bitch,” she whispered as she watched the SUV drive away.
“Momma? Are you mad at Auntie Grace?”
Whirling around, she saw sweet Jason rubbing his eyes with one fist while clutching his ratty security blanket to his chest with the other. She scooped him up in her arms, burying her nose in his neck, breathing in his scent.
“Why do you always smell so good, Jace? I just want to gobble you up!”
He giggled and squirmed when she nibbled at his neck. “Stop it, Momma!”
One of her rules was to always stop teasing or tickling or rough-housing whenever one of the boys asked her to. How could she expect them to blindly obey her every command if she didn’t give them the respect of stopping a game they were uncomfortable with? Playing was supposed to be fun for everyone involved, not just one person who might be stronger. Of course the rule only applied to playtime; all other times, it was her way or the highway.
She plopped down on the couch and pulled him into a side hu
g. Still sleepy, he snuggled up to her and slipped a thumb into his mouth, his security blanket pressed up against his cheek.
“When are you going to let me wash Wooby, Jason? That thing’s pretty gross.”
“Nuh uh,” he protested, clutching the ratty scrap of cloth tighter to his body.
“I promise it won’t hurt it at all,” she wheedled, although she wasn’t entirely sure it was the truth. The piece of fabric that once used to be baby blue chenille but was now a smooth piece of gray nastiness was over thirty years old.
He emphatically shook his head. No dice.
“Why, baby? Why can’t I wash it?”
“Mshwashibmady,” he mumbled around his thumb.
“One more time without the thumb, please.”
“You’ll wash him out.”
Smiling at his inventive imagination, she asked, “Who?” He’d probably decided the man in the moon’s vacation home was in his Wooby.
“Daddy.”
The smiled dropped from her lips. That was not the answer she was expecting. “What do you mean, Jace?” The quaver in her voice surprised her.
“Can’t you smell him, Momma?” He shoved the filthy thing into her face, forcing her to take a whiff.
It hit her like a ton of bricks. Keith’s scent was still in this stupid piece of fabric. How could she have missed that?
Her heart tugged at the memory of Keith’s mom giving the already-worn blanket to her as she lay in her bed with two newborn babies suckling at her. Still overcome with the grief of losing her only child, Gretchen gave it with an open heart and tear-stained face.
“What’s this?” Veronica was still in shock and her synapses weren’t firing too quickly. Keith had died just days before the boys were born, so not only was she suffering from grief, but hormones were wreaking havoc on the rest of her emotions. The babies were getting almost as many of her tears as they were her milk.
Laid Bear 2: The Kodiak Clan Page 3