Mated to a Bear (Legends of Black Salmon Falls Book 3)

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Mated to a Bear (Legends of Black Salmon Falls Book 3) Page 5

by Lauren Lively


  I laugh, cutting him off. “Does everybody in this whole damn town know that Josie has a thing for me or something?”

  “Well – yeah,” he says. “Pretty much. Not really much of a secret. Every time she looks at you, we all see the cartoon hearts floating above her head.”

  I shake my head, grinning. “She's a good girl,” I say. “And some man is going to be very lucky to have her.”

  “But – not you?”

  I shake my head again. “No, not me,” I say and quickly change the subject. “So, I understand you have something to show me.”

  He nods and purses his lips, his expression thoughtful – as if he's debating whether or not to press the issue. He gives me a meaningful look and then nods, apparently opting to not press it. Which is probably best for both of us.

  “A couple of bodies were found last night,” he says. “Thought they might be of interest to you.”

  “Why's that?”

  “They're bears,” he says simply.

  “Huh,” I reply. “Sheriff know about this?”

  Floyd shakes his head. “Not yet,” he replies. “Couple of guys I know found the bodies. They called me right away. Given the hard-on the Sheriff has for you guys, I thought it best to keep him out of the loop if at all possible.”

  “I appreciate that, Floyd,” I say. “And I know Asher will.”

  He shrugs. “Saves me a shitload of paperwork,” he says. “Plus, I know that Richards will probably just try to pin this on you guys anyway. He'll move heaven and Earth trying to prove it was you guys rather than doing his job and finding out who really did it. So, it just saves us both a lot of hassle in the long run.”

  I clap him on the shoulder and laugh. “You're a good man, Dr. Floyd.”

  He shrugs. “You guys are always good to me, so no worries.”

  Floyd walks over to the bank of drawers set into the wall. He opens one and then a second right next to it. When I look down at the contents of the drawers, I'm not sure what to make of them at first – it looks like two mounds of barely recognizable pulverized meat.

  The smell was horrendous. Almost overpowering. I quickly put my hand up over my nose and mouth, trying to keep from inhaling it.

  “Yeah, they're pretty ripe,” Floyd says. “Impossible to say with one hundred percent accuracy, of course, but my best guess is that they were out there a couple of days before they were found.”

  Still holding my hand over my mouth, I leaned over, examining the corpses. Most of the skin seems like it's been – peeled off. And the meat below it has long, deep furrows dug into it. I also see bite marks and bones that are shattered – almost as if they'd been bitten clean through.

  Standing up, I take a couple of steps back and Floyd pushes the drawers closed. The smell still lingers though, saturating the air around us. Feeling like it's seeping into my skin. I'm going to need a long, hot shower when I'm done here. Maybe two.

  “I don't know if I'm ever going to get that stink out of these clothes,” I say. “How do you do this day after day?”

  He shrugs like it's no big deal. “Eventually, you get used to it.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, I'm not so sure about that,” I say. “So, why is it you think these two piles of meat are bears?”

  “The muscle striation,” he says. “It's definitely not human. See, shifters have the same muscles as humans, but they're – different. Longer. Thicker. More striated. Have to be because when you shift, you're using those muscles in ways humans don't.”

  I nod. “I see,” I say. “Any idea what did that to them?”

  “Wood chipper was my first though, but I ruled that out pretty fast,” he said and laughed. “Too many bite marks.”

  “Huh,” I say. “So, something is running around out there – eating – bears.”

  “Looks like it,” he says. “Which is absolutely terrifying. I mean, I really don't even want to imagine what's out there that's big and powerful enough to take down a bear.”

  As I stand there, a thought occurs to me. “Could this possibly be a wolf attack? Could those bite marks be wolves?”

  “Werewolves? Anything is possible, I suppose,” he replies. “But honestly, I really doubt that. The bite radius is too small – it almost seems like a human mouth inflicted those wounds.”

  “But that doesn't seem very likely.”

  “Tell me about it,” he says. “And I don't think they'd shift back into their human form to feed.”

  “No, probably not.”

  “So, we've got a mystery on our hands.”

  “Looks that way,” he says.

  “Thanks for the heads up, Floyd,” I say. “I'll be sure to have somebody come around to clean this mess out of your freezers.”

  “No rush,” he says. “Richards never comes in here anyway. Says it creeps him out.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “That's our big, strong Sheriff.”

  “Indeed,” he says. “Besides, I want to run a few tests on the bodies – if that's okay with you.”

  “Hey, have a field day, Floyd,” I reply. “Just let me know when you want what's left scooped out.”

  “You got it,” he says. “And thanks.”

  I head out, knowing I'm going to have to brief the Clan Chiefs on what I learned. Yeah, this is going to be a load of fun.

  Chapter Seven

  “The condition of the bodies was unlike anything I've ever seen,” I say.

  “What do you mean?” Asher asks.

  We're assembled in Asher’s office and the Clan Chiefs – at least, some of them – are listening to my report. Asher sits behind his desk. Mariana and Luca are there. As is Anyga, of course. And there a few Chiefs from some of the smaller Clans I've never met in attendance. The briefing isn't nearly as well attended as I'd expected – whether that's because Asher didn't invite them or they just didn't bother to turn up, I don't know. And it's not my place to ask.

  I'm there to discharge my duty – which is to report on my findings at the ME's office.

  “The bodies were mauled. Mangled,” I say. “The skin was mostly missing and there were bite marks in what remained of the bodies.”

  The Chiefs all exchange glances and I can see the questions in all of their eyes.

  “Bite marks?” Mariana asks.

  “Yes,” I reply. “The bodies were so badly mauled – as well as degraded by the elements – that ME Floyd was only able to determine they were bears because of the striation of the muscle that was left.”

  Luca lets out a low whistle and even Mariana is left speechless – a rarity for her. Asher takes a drink from the water bottle on his desk and leans back in his seat.

  “It seems to me,” says an older man – one of the Chiefs of a smaller Clan, “that the only reasonable explanation is that the goddamn wolves are attacking our kind.”

  I shake my head. “ME Floyd doesn't believe that's the case.”

  “Yeah? And what's he basing it on? His vast expertise as a shifter?”

  The Chiefs share a chuckle – most of them. Asher, Luca, Mariana, and Anyga all sit there, stone-faced, the gravity of the situation seeming to be sinking in.

  “Science, actually,” I say. “The bite radius he found don't match up with the bite radius of a wolf. The bites on the bodies were made by a mouth that's much smaller. Such as a human mouth.”

  “A human mouth,” Mariana asks, a chuckle escaping her lips. “So now we've got, what? Rogue bands of humans running around eating bears?”

  I know she meant it as a joke, but some of the Chiefs exchanged looks of alarm and concern.

  “Dr. Floyd doesn't think that likely,” I say. “And frankly, neither do I. Not only does it seem implausible, it makes absolutely no sense.”

  “Wouldn't be the first-time humans tried to wipe us out,” says the older man who'd spoken before.

  The three men standing around him nod as if he's speaking wisdom and truth – obvious groupies.

  “It would though,” Mariana scoffs, “be the
first time they'd tried to wipe us out by eating us. Jesus, Olan, think about it. You make no sense.”

  As I looked at the people assembled, I saw the clear lines of demarcation. On side of the room you have Olan and his friends – Clans who obviously share a tight alliance. All of them a bit older. And on the other side of the room, the younger generation is represented by Asher, Mariana, and Luca – who so happen to lead the three most powerful Clans in the Pacific Northwest.

  Classic case of old school versus new school. And Anyga is sitting right in the middle of the two groups – both physically and metaphorically.

  “Fine,” Olan says. “Then we're back to the only thing that makes sense. This has to be the work of the wolves.”

  “Which means we should be preparing for war,” one of the men behind him says.

  “Because war will solve everything,” Mariana chuckles. “What is it with some of you boys and your obsession with your penises and killing things?”

  “I don't know about the latter,” Olan creaks. “But, if you'd like an education about my cock personally, all you need to do is ask.”

  The tension – not to mention the noise level – in the room is starting to rise and Asher's group begins to bicker with Olan's, with both sides trying to talk over each other to be heard. The old school is arguing for the need to go to war while the new is arguing for the need to avoid jumping to conclusions at that point with the information we have.

  I look to Anyga who's stayed silent and out of the bickering to this point. The fighting between the Clans is getting us nowhere. It's certainly not getting us any closer to sorting out the mystery at hand. I want to end the bickering so we can discuss something productively. As if reading my mind, Anyga gives me a nod.

  Stepping into the center of the room, I slam my fist down on Asher's desk and at the top of my lungs, scream out. “Shut up!”

  Everybody in the room falls silent and all eyes turn to me. The look on their faces – at least, the faces of Olan's group – is that they can't believe me, a mere Moq'apo, would have the nerve to interrupt them. They're Clan Chiefs after all – regardless of how small their Clan is. Asher, Mariana, and Luca, on the other hand, look slightly amused.

  “Apologies,” I say. “But this bickering is getting us nowhere.”

  “I agree,” Olan says. “We should be using the time to get ready for war.”

  Asher casts a withering glare at him. “Olan, shut up.”

  The chill that passes between them is palpable and the room around us feels like the temperature dropped ten degrees.

  “There is much to consider,” Asher says. “Thank you all for coming. Until such a time that we decide how to proceed, you are all forbidden from acting on your own. There will be no reprisals and no action taken against the wolves. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

  Olan's glare somehow manages to get even icier as he gets to his feet and leads his little group out of Asher's office.

  “Anyga,” Asher says. “Would you mind if I borrowed your Moq'apo for a little while?”

  She gives him a smile and inclines her head. “Absolutely not.”

  “Excellent,” he replies. “Thank you.”

  I watch Anyga leave and then turn back to face Asher, Mariana, and Luca, suddenly feeling very exposed.

  “Please, have a seat,” Asher says.

  I do as instructed and sit in the seat across the desk for him. Mariana and Luca are leaning against a credenza behind Asher's desk, looking at me. Mariana's eyes travel up and down my body and she seems to be taking my measure. Luca's face, on the other hand, is uncharacteristically solemn.

  Asher leans back in his seat and steeples his fingers, looking at me for a long moment as if he's contemplating something.

  “I can see why Anyga keeps him for herself,” Mariana says. “That naughty little minx. Think she'd let me borrow him for a while?”

  “Doubtful,” Asher replies.

  I feel the heat flare in my cheeks and I immediately avert my gaze – which only makes Mariana laugh.

  “What is your take on the situation?” Asher finally asks. “If not a wolf, what do you think did that to those two bodies.”

  I shake my head. “I really don't know,” I say. “It's not my place to speculate.”

  “I'm asking for your opinion,” Asher says gruffly. “You're the only one in the room who actually saw the bodies.”

  I clear my throat. “My opinion is that this wasn't a wolf,” I say. “Nor was it a human.”

  “Then what could it have been?” Luca asks.

  “My gut tells me it's something we've not encountered before,” I say. “Though, I have no evidence to back up my assertion.”

  Asher nods slowly. “The other Clan Chiefs want to go to war,” he says. “What is your opinion on that?”

  “I think it would be a mistake,” I say honestly. “We have zero proof it was them. Not to mention, them attacking us makes no logical sense.”

  “I agree,” Asher says. “Which is why we're going to open a back channel of communication.”

  “A back channel?” I ask.

  “I've already contacted Neesa,” Luca says. “I've set up a meet with her tomorrow morning. I want you to be there.”

  “Be there for what?” I ask.

  “You're going to partner up with her and figure this out,” Luca says. “I've heard rumors that wolves have been found in the same condition as the bodies you saw today. I want you to verify that and find out what the wolves are thinking.”

  “If our people are beating the drums of war,” Mariana adds, “We have to assume their people are too.”

  “You two are going to find out what is going on and who – or what – is behind these killings,” Asher says. “The last thing we want or need is war with the wolves.”

  “I don't know that you're going to stop Olan from sending his guys out for reprisals,” Mariana says.

  “And if he does, he's going to pay the price for it,” Asher snaps.

  “We need solid information,” Luca says evenly. “We need to know where their head is at. And if at all possible, prevent any reprisal killings.”

  “Or prevent outright war,” Asher says.

  “Yeah, or that,” Luca replies.

  “Olan is a stubborn old bastard,” Mariana says. “When he gets his claws into something, he doesn't let go of it very easily. You know this, Asher.”

  Asher turns his eyes to me. “What would you do, Jackson?” he asks. “About Olan?”

  “I don't know there's anything you can do at this point,” I say bluntly. “He's done nothing to warrant punishment. Do anything to him and you might be opening yourself up to a revolt. Or an outright challenge to your authority. I would though, have somebody watching him. Very closely. You need to know the instant he sends his guys out for a little payback.”

  Asher nods and Luca gives me a nod. I couldn't feel more out of place if I tried. I don't belong in this room with the Chiefs. And I'm certainly not qualified to be giving them advice. I want to get Luca alone and tell him I know what he's doing. But, I don't have the opportunity, nor do I want to air my own dirty laundry in front of Asher and Mariana.

  “Excellent. We'll do that,” Asher says. “In the meantime, Jackson, meet with Neesa. Pick her brain and see what's going on with the wolves.”

  “And what of my duties as Anyga's Moq'apo?” I ask.

  “I'll speak with her,” Asher says. “Surely, she can spare you for a few days.”

  I give Luca a long look, hoping to convey to him that I know he's behind this assignment. But he refuses to meet my eyes – unlike Mariana, who hasn't stopped staring at me with a look of hunger in her eyes since I sat down. I look at Asher and nod.

  “Whatever you need,” I say.

  Chapter Eight

  Neesa

  I'm sitting at a table by the window in the coffee house Luca had asked me to meet him at to discuss – whatever it is he wants to discuss. To be honest, I don't know why I even agree
d to this meet in the first place though. It's not like Luca and I have a lot in common or have business between us to talk about. He's a nice enough guy, but we're not exactly friends.

  But hey, it gets me out of the house and away from Umak for a while. He woke up on the very wrong side of the bed and has been ranting and raving since sunrise. Which makes me very glad to not be at home at the moment.

  “Thought you might want some coffee.”

  I turn at the sound of the man's voice and pause. It's not Luca standing there, but Jackson.

  “You,” I say, feeling a surge of anger rising within me.

  “Me,” he replies. “Were you expecting somebody else?”

  “Yeah, Luca,” I snap. “He set up this meet.”

  “He sent me in his place.”

  I watch in silence as he sits down across the table from me and slides a cup of coffee over. I sit there and look at him, smoldering with anger, debating with myself whether to stand up and walk out or not. He pours some sugar and cream into his cup, locking eyes with me as he stirs.

  “Take yours black?” he asks.

  I'm so busy being pissed off that what he says isn't quite computing in my head. “What?”

  “Your coffee,” he says, pointing to the cup in front of me. “Do you drink yours black?”

  “No,” I say. “What are you doing here? What do you want?”

  “Luca thought we needed to talk.”

  “I've got nothing to say,” I snap. “Least of all, to you.”

  “And yet, here you are.”

  I look around, thoroughly annoyed that Luca would do this. The coffee shop is half full – some college-aged kids, a few hipsters, and a couple of older people – all engaged in animated conversations amongst themselves. Normal, everyday conversations. The kind I don't have with people. The kind that deep down though, I secretly crave. I would give anything to just sit at a table, enjoy a cup of coffee and conversation with somebody. As I look around the shop, I can't help but feel a slight pang of jealousy.

  But there is no way I can have a normal, everyday conversation with Jackson. For one thing, we're not normal. More than that, we have nothing in common. I don't even know the guy. And besides, it's not like our kinds – get along. I don't mix with bears anymore than Jackson mixes with wolves. There's just no reason to.

 

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