by Jane Jamison
After they’d raked him up and down about showing her his bear form and coming just short of breaking into a physical fight, they’d calmed down. They could hardly blame him. She was beautiful, with an innocent yet sultry allure, as well as seeming sexy yet modest. From the way she’d handled the whole thing, he could tell she was brave. If they’d sat down and come up with a list of the attributes they’d wanted in their mate, she would’ve checked off all the boxes. Understandably, Josh had gotten mesmerized by her scent, her sexy looks, and the bond that had joined them in that invisible way all shifters hoped to experience. If the men hadn’t come back, Josh would’ve taken her. And if she’d felt the same connection, she wouldn’t have minded one bit.
“There he is.”
Curt jerked his mind back to the present. Virton’s balding head shone under the moonlight of the full moon as he peeked out the door, then looked around. Whether he saw them or not wasn’t clear. Then he eased the door back, leaving it cracked enough that, unless someone looked straight at it, they wouldn’t notice that it wasn’t closed.
“Come on. And keep your head down.” Curt stayed bent over and hurried toward the door. His cousins followed, making very little noise considering werebears weren’t known for their silence. If they’d been in their bear forms, half the town would’ve heard them lumbering toward the bar.
His inner bear shook itself awake, making its fur dance, then roared. He clamped his mouth shut, keeping the sound from escaping. By the time he made it to the door, his heart was beating a quick rhythm. Who knew what might happen if they got caught? If it was Jackson Carr or one of his brothers, then it wouldn’t be too bad. More than likely, Jackson, who strived to keep werewolf-werebear relations on good terms, would tell them to get the hell out before anyone else saw them. But if it was one of the other werewolves, all hell might break loose. They’d have their hands full. Three bears against a whole pack of wolves weren’t odds he wanted to test.
He put a finger to his lips, once more warning his cousins to stay quiet, then dared to stick his head around the corner of the door. As Virton had promised, the door opened into the storage area of the bar. It was empty, but close enough to the main room that they could hear the meeting through the air vents. He gave an okay sign, then slipped into the room packed with liquor and bar supplies.
They edged as close to the vent high on the wall as they could. The voices of the crowd came through, but with all of them talking, it was difficult to understand what they said. Josh selected a bottle of wine from one of the boxes, then found a bottle opener and grinned.
Jadon shook his head, but it was too late. Josh already had the bottle open and chugging from it. He handed it to Curt, who shrugged, then took a long swig, too. What had Jadon expected him to do? Josh always acted without thinking, much less asking first. And now that the bottle was already opened, why not enjoy a good drink while they listened?
“Okay, folks, let’s get this meeting going.”
Jackson Carr, the werewolves’ unofficial leader, must’ve taken the stand on the stage. His voice rang out over the microphone. “We only have a couple of items on the agenda. First up is the question of digging a new well. It’s either that or get some of our water from Shatland.”
The people booed, shouting their opposition to getting the water from a place that werebears controlled. They made it very clear how the townspeople felt. Jackson called for quiet, but it took a minute or so before he got it.
“I don’t guess we need to take a vote on that. If there are no objections, we’ll get Harvey Childers to start working on finding a place to dig the well. No? Good. Then let’s move on to the next and final item.” He chuckled. “This is going to be a quick meeting. That’s good because we have Beckett Malone and his band here ready to play.”
Beckett Malone was a local werewolf who had gone on to make a name for himself in country music. Even after achieving fame, he continued to give back to Forever, playing festivals and even town meetings whenever he could. All for free. A cheer went up.
Curt had to hand it to the werewolves. They knew how to have a good time. He wished werebears were more like that, but they tended to enjoy more leisurely activities than kicking up their heels at a dance. Aside from needing to shift often and have a good run like werewolves did, of course.
“The next item up is the situation with the werebears.”
Curt and his cousins stopped, intent on listening more than drinking at the mention of werebears. Had something changed between the pack and the clan? They’d always tried not to delve into the friction between their two peoples. As long as the peace held up, why worry?
“As you know, y’all, I don’t like conflict with them. We’ve managed to keep the peace for a while now and I’d like to see us keep it up. It looks like there are more of them moving into the area from Oklahoma, Louisiana, and Mexico. The Red River Country has seen a lot of them coming in. I’m talking real bears as well as shifters. As long as they stick to Shatland, I don’t see that as a problem. This is, after all, America. They’ve got the same rights as we do to live where they want.”
The crowd gave him a mixed reaction. Some wanted to maintain the peace like Jackson did, while others wanted to take a more aggressive approach.
“Forever is for werewolves, Jackson.”
“We need to get their mangy butts off our land.”
“First they’ll take our land, then our intended mates.”
Curt checked with his cousins. He’d heard of only one time when werebears had tried taking a human female who was intended for werewolves. That had happened during the Amber Moon event that only came around once in several decades. The clan had exiled the werebears that had caused the problem, preventing a possible war between werewolf pack and the clan.
“Take it easy, folks. That’s my point. Both werewolves and werebears have bad apples in their groups. But once I brought the problem to the bears’ attention, they handled it. There hasn’t been a problem since.”
“Jackson’s right,” argued a woman. “We need to stay calm and see how it all works out. Hasty action is never good in this kind of thing.”
“Okay, then, y’all. Let’s just wait and see how things shake out. I’d call for a vote, but it’s too soon. Nothing’s gone wrong.”
“So far!” shouted a man.
“That’s right, Dan. So far. That’s why we’re going to watch and listen, then bring this item back up for discussion at the next meeting. Now, if there’s nothing else…”
The sound of someone clearing their throat echoed through the vent.
“Excuse me. My name is Mayla Weaton and I’d like to ask a question.”
Josh almost dropped the bottle he held, then closed his eyes, lifted his head and sniffed long and hard. A wondrous expression brightened his face. He opened his eyes. “I remember that voice. That’s her. She showed up.”
Chapter Three
Mayla was so frightened she couldn’t move. How many times had the man on the stage said werewolves and werebears? Was he serious? Yet as much as logic said that he couldn’t be serious, she could see that he was.
Either everyone in town was delusional, had gotten drugged through the town’s well system, or…Or what? Werewolves and werebears actually existed?
The image of Josh changing into a bear hit her so hard she wobbled on her feet.
The crowd in front of her turned around and stared at her. Although many of the stares weren’t what she’d have called antagonistic or angry, a few were. At best, they were inquisitive. One of those angry people moved toward her.
“Human, why are you here?”
Human. As in not a werewolf or werebear.
She sucked in a hard breath, then let the exhalation push the words out. It wasn’t only the man on stage, but all of them. Was it a group hallucination? Was whatever that was causing it affecting her, too? “I didn’t come here to ask this, but you’re talking about werewolves and other beings that don’t exist. None of t
hat is real.” She offered up a weak smile. “Right? You do realize that supernatural creatures aren’t real.”
“Wanna bet, sweetheart?” The man came close, too close for comfort. He narrowed his eyes and specks of amber brightened them. “But we don’t like being called creatures. We have feelings just like you humans do.”
She swallowed hard and wanted to back up, but her legs wouldn’t move, as though they were stuck in cement. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I know that what you’re saying, what you’re all saying, isn’t real. Monsters don’t live in small Texas towns.”
Had his eyes started to glow? She had to keep going, if only for her own sanity. She shoved away the image of Josh changing from a man to a bear.
“And nowhere else for that matter.” Her laugh sounded brittle, unsure. “Okay, maybe in California or New York City.” She’d hoped her joke would get them to lighten up, to tell her that they were only pretending or joking.
“We don’t consider ourselves to be monsters, either.”
When she saw his ears change, going from normal human ears to pointed ones, she knew. She didn’t need to see his awful fangs or the fur spreading over his face. It was true.
Her breath caught in throat. “What are you?” She was sure she’d whispered, but those in front laughed as though they’d heard her, too.
“Sweetheart, I’m a werewolf. You wouldn’t be Little Red Riding Hood, would you? Naw. Course not.”
She cringed when he feathered his fingers over her shoulder. Were those claws? Or very long fingernails?
“Nope. You can’t be. You don’t have a cape or a basket of goodies.”
“Mitch Franklin, you shut your mouth and quit scaring the girl to death.” The elderly woman who’d spoken pushed several people out of the way, then pointed a finger at Mitch who immediately shifted back to his human body parts. The woman had a pleasant, grandmotherly look, one Mayla immediately trusted. Although she was clearly an old woman, she walked with the grace and ease of someone her age.
“Young one, why are you here?”
Mayla concentrated her focus on the old woman and tried to ignore the others. “I, um, I…” Why had she come? Her mind wouldn’t give her the answer.
“Don’t go getting a mush-mind. You’re safe with Miss Clara. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
She believed her, and it made it easier to speak up. “I came to see if anyone had seen a grizzly bear in the area.”
“See, Jackson?” Another man, burlier than the Mitch, shouted at Jackson who had jumped off the stage and strode toward her. “I told you those damn bears were getting too close to town.”
“Where’d you see him?”
Not it. Not the bear. Him.
She wished like crazy that she hadn’t come to the meeting, but she was stuck. There was no other choice but to keep going. “I saw him,” she saw that Jackson noticed the emphasis on the one word, “near a place called Half Moon Ranch, I think.”
“Tell us, young one. Was he in his bear form or in his human body?”
She liked Miss Clara and felt she could trust her. Along with Jackson. As for the rest? She wasn’t so sure. “Both.”
Am I really standing here talking about a man changing into a bear?
And yet, she knew it was the truth. Josh was a werebear.
Miss Clara’s eyebrows shot up. “So you saw him change, did you?”
She nodded. Should she have told them? “He knocked me over as a man. But then when he took off running, I saw him change into a huge grizzly bear.”
Her head swam. Was all of this for real?
Miss Clara patted her on the arm like a teacher praising one of her students for getting the right answer. “Good girl. So is that all you needed to know?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She’d wanted to ask if anyone knew a man named Josh, but thought better of it. More questions meant staying there longer. Questions that might get Josh in trouble. She wasn’t sure why she wanted to protect him, but she did. More than anything. As though he’d become important to her in only a week.
“Now that’s the way a young one should speak to her elder.”
“Miss Clara, we can’t let her go.” Mitch, subdued as though intimidated by the older woman, spoke to her with respect.
“Sure we can,” added Jackson. “We’ve had this discussion before. Strangers, especially those who come to Forever alone, won’t tell anyone what they’ve seen. Who’d believe them?”
“Come with me, young one.” Miss Clara took hold of her arm and turned her to the front door. “You’d best be getting back to where you came from.”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.” A tremble vibrated through her. She was frightened, but sensed that the older lady would keep her from harm.
By the time Miss Clara had taken her outside, she was ready to hug her. “Thank you for your help, ma’am.”
“Don’t mention it.” Miss Clara smiled at her, but her expression had changed, growing harder, more intense. “Just be sure you don’t go talking about our little town. We don’t want a bunch of curious strangers coming round. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Was she a werewolf, too? But it seemed like a rude question to ask.
“Good.” Miss Clara sighed as a ruckus erupted inside the bar. “For pity’s sake. That Mitch is more trouble than he’s worth. Best you hurry along now.”
Mayla was left standing by the door, wondering if she was having a breakdown. Yet she knew better. Gone was the world she’d known, replaced by one filled with monsters and unbelievable creatures. If she was smart, she’d get her family and leave before anything else happened.
I can’t leave. Not until I find Josh.
What if they found out that she was a hunter? True, they were hunting quail, but were the birds really people, too?
No matter what Miss Clara had said, she had to tell her father. She had to warn him that if he shot a wolf or a bear, or even a quail, he might be killing a person, too.
The phone she’d placed at her ear was gone before she could press the speed dial for her father’s number. She let out a yelp, but doubted anyone inside the bar could hear over the commotion.
“Take it easy. Remember me? I’m not going to hurt you.”
She couldn’t speak. Not with his hand over her mouth. Instead, she gazed up into Josh’s brown eyes. At once, the panic that had gripped her was gone. In its place came that magical sensation that wound her up like a top, then set her spinning.
“Josh.”
He smiled as though he liked hearing her say his name. “That’s me. Tell me right now. What’s your name?”
“Mayla Weaton.”
He didn’t look away once. She did, however, when one of the two men standing near them spoke.
“Josh, let’s get out of here.”
The man took hold of her arm, and if Josh hadn’t nodded to tell her it was all right, she might’ve shouted for help. Instead, she let him tug her around the side of the building. Instead of heading for the parking lot, however, he changed directions and hurried her toward the surrounding bushes.
It wasn’t easy to study him while getting hauled off to who-knew-where, but she did her best. He was blond like Josh, but he wore his hair long enough to curl around his ears. His eyes were a light blue and he shared the same rough stubble and masculine jawline that Josh had. The muscles in his arm bulged. She almost stumbled because she was staring at how they rippled, but the other man took her arm and kept her on her feet.
That third man was so much like the first two. His hair was short, but longer than Josh’s shaved head. His blue eyes were like the second man’s, but they were of a darker blue, reminding her of the color of the ocean as the water washed farther from the shore. A jagged scar zigzagged its way across his left arm, diverting some of her attention away from his bear tattoo.
* * * *
Josh is right. She’s the one.
Curt knew it the second he put his hand on her. The sparks that flar
ed to life across his skin were unmistakable. Although he’d never experienced the connection, his instinct told him what it was.
She stumbled as she’d done before and he caught her, bringing her luscious body against his. The sparks, like the bits of bright fire Fourth of July sparklers made, torched that flames inside him higher. His inner bear reared onto its hind legs and roared out a greeting, an acknowledgment that she was his mate. It shook its fur, snarling as it clawed at him, demanding to be set free. If he’d listened to the beast inside him, he would’ve shifted and taken her in the animal way. But he was a man and wanted his mate as only a man could.
Damn, how he ached for her. If he didn’t get relief soon, he might lose the tenuous hold he had on his beast.
“We can’t stop.” He fought the urge to lie her down on the grass and spread her legs.
“I know.”
He drew in her scent, knowing he’d never forget it. Yet another fainter smell carried by the breeze ruined the joy he felt at taking hers in.
“They’re coming, man.”
Josh was right again. He could smell the werewolves’ aroma as they came out of the bar. There weren’t many of them, most preferring to stay and have fun, but there were enough. It only took one to lay back his head and let out a warning howl.
“Come on,” added Jadon. He growled, the sound so soft that Curt doubted she could’ve heard it.
As much as he hated to, he turned her loose, but never let go of her hand. They dashed away, heading for their pickup that they’d parked on a side road.
He heard her panting as she tried to keep up. Knowing she had no chance of keeping pace with them, he slowed down, letting his cousins race ahead.
“Keep moving.”