Bear Moon

by Hattie Hunt

  “And don’t get me started on the witches,” Cheryl continued, flapping her hand in the direction of Alma. “You trust them over your own kind?”

  There she went on the bigot train again.

  “Witches and dogs,” she sneered.

  “Shut up!” Joe’s shout filled the small space as his bear rose to the surface giving him greater vocal thunder.

  Ripley almost smiled. He was pretty powerful when he wanted to be, when he wasn’t reeling from the possibility of death.

  “We’re here because we are going to save my brother. We’re here because Ripley saw the virus in time to allow us to try. We’re here because Leslie and Alma—they have names, Mother—are trying to help us find a cure.”

  Cheryl’s expression went bland.

  Ripley didn’t know the last time anyone had challenged her. Openly.

  Joe took an aggressive step closer to his mother. “And the kill order is only on sight.” His lips curled and his bear ears disappeared. “Good luck finding him.”

  “This is reckless.”

  “Reckless would have been not knowing.” Joe tipped his head to the side, anger shooting from his eyes in almost visible waves. “Reckless would have been allowing the wedding to go as planned. Reckless would have been allowing Brett to infect countless others. That would have been reckless.”

  Cheryl’s bear retreated and she took a step back from her son.

  “We’ve contained him. He’s not getting past us.”

  “What about her?” Cheryl asked, gesturing to Juliet.

  Joe nodded. “It didn’t go smoothly, but we have the situation handled.”

  “And if she spreads it?”

  “She wasn’t bitten.”

  “And we know that?”

  Joe looked at Ripley significantly, raised an eyebrow, and then looked pointedly back at his mother. “Yes, we do.”

  Cheryl glared around the room.

  “Get out, Mother. You can set up the clan to protect the area, but we have this handled.”

  “She’s a dog, Joe,” Cheryl said, her voice raspy with unshed tears.

  “She’s a padfoot, Mother, and she’s the reason we have any hope at all right now. Without her, we would be watching our loved ones tear each other apart.”

  Cheryl flinched as if she’d been slapped.

  Juliet stepped forward carefully, and opened the door. “Good day, Cheryl.”

  Cheryl looked around the room and grabbed Emma’s arm. “Come along.”

  Emma wrenched her arm free. “I’m staying.”

  “You are not.”

  “I am.” Emma crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I—” Cheryl frowned and then spun away.

  Ripley didn’t know any better, but she’d say that Cheryl’s position as alpha might be up for grabs. There was a lot she didn’t understand about pack or clan mentality. But Cheryl had lost some points and a lot of ground. That was for sure. One small victory.

  Now, all they had to do was win the war.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Emma stared at the door, and then blinked. “What are we doing?”

  “Waiting,” Ripley said with a sigh. “Leslie, Alma, and Snow have a cure cooking. So, do you think they’re going to station people around the cabin?”

  “Yes.” Emma nodded emphatically. “Without a doubt. I can’t just sit around and wait.”

  Neither could Ripley. She turned to Juliet. “How’s that bear repression thing you were working on?”

  “I...” Juliet shook her head as if in a daze. “I have all of the ingredients.”

  “Let me look at what you have.” Alma put a hand on Juliet’s arm. “And let’s see what we can concoct.”

  Juliet gave a jerky nod.

  Ripley took a step toward Joe and Emma. “If she’s able to repress Brett’s bear, what do you think about finalizing this wedding?”

  Joe looked at her as if seeing her for the first time since Brett’s rage incident. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean—” What the hell did she mean? She wasn’t a damned romantic. She didn’t think like this. “That they’ve been planning this day for a while. Now it’s gone, and they’re not getting married. And he may die and they’ll never get that.”

  “Wouldn’t that just make it worse?”

  “Who’d get his insurance?” Oh...god! The worst fucking things came out of her mouth. Fucking hell. “I mean, also, he could survive and this could be, you know—” No. She didn’t know “—that story that they tell their kids about how their love, um, you know, saved...them...and stuff.”

  Emma stared at Ripley in stunned silence, then chuckled. “And stuff.” Her chuckle grew into a belly roll. “Tell their...kids.”

  Joe snorted a chuckle. One turned into two and two turned into a full laugh.

  It hadn’t been funny, but it was exactly what they’d needed. Ripley joined in the laughter, glad to release some of that tension that had built in the room.

  Leslie glanced at Juliet, chuckling with a frown.

  Juliet shook her head, trying not to laugh. Still, the harder everyone laughed around her, she eventually gave in.

  Barn’s laugh rolled through the room with a strong baritone.

  Even Alma laughed.

  “Okay,” Alma said as everyone settled down. “What are we laughing about?”

  “Nothing funny,” Ripley said.

  “Oh, it was funny.” Emma raised a hand and stepped into the dining room. “We’re going to have this wedding.”

  Juliet’s laughter stopped.

  Emma pointed a finger at her. “This will be a story you tell your kids about how you triumphed over the worst odds.”

  Juliet gave her a wobbly smile.

  “And, on top of all that, you can say they cured shifter rabies because of you.”

  Juliet chuckled. “All we need is this.” She held up a sprig of sage. “To work.”

  Ripley frowned. She wasn’t sure how simple sage was going to help, but she wasn’t the herbalist. She’d make sure that if it didn’t work, she had a bullet or a tranq dart she could put in him quickly. She turned to Joe. “Wanna see if we can throw together a quick wedding?”

  Leslie raised a hand. “I’ll officiate.”

  “Myrtie kinda offered to.”

  Alma sighed. “Well, isn’t that lucky. They have choices.”

  “You can?” Ripley asked, ignoring the crone. She didn’t know much about that kind of stuff, and she’d been struggling to figure out how they were going to overcome that particular hurdle.

  Leslie nodded. “It involves a broom, but yes.”

  Ripley laughed, feeling good for the first time in years. And she shouldn’t be. She should feel horrible.

  But looking at Juliet and Alma in the kitchen, she had a sense of hope that they could make this work. They could figure out something. Brett could live. Joe wouldn’t have to hate her for killing him. She might still want to punch him in the face later, but...

  They’d have a wedding.

  She...was a sucker for a wedding.

  They set to work. Leslie said that the cure time for the potion would take another day at least, and she hovered over it like a guard dog.

  Alma finished Juliet’s bear repression potion while the rest of them worked on the wedding. Barn was able to leave for supplies without being molested or stopped by the Elliot clan. They all assumed it was because he was human. At least, they hoped.

  Ripley could smell the bears. They were there. They just weren’t showing themselves.

  Everyone slept in shifts. Except for Alma. She told everyone she was going to bed, and they didn’t hear from her for another nine hours.

  Juliet and Joe disappeared to the bunker for a couple hours. They came back with Brett. For now, the potion seemed to have worked. He hovered around the edge of the kitchen, hesitant to jump in on the planning. Ripley didn’t blame him. He had already resigned himself to saying goodbye, and now he was back in the middle of every
thing. But, as everyone worked around him like everything was normal, he eventually slipped into the rhythm. He didn’t sleep, though. He looked terrified, as if afraid to lose a single second.

  As the sun rose over the trees the next morning, Ripley stretched and pulled on the dress Barn had scrounged up for her. It was flowy and a little long. It probably didn’t look real great with her boots, but she wasn’t going barefoot. The wet grass was too damned cold and she couldn’t partially shift like the bears could.

  Barn had also, somehow, been able to get his hands on Juliet’s dress and Brett’s suit. He didn’t explain how. He simply stated that some secrets were best kept secret.

  Joe looked amazing in his jeans and suit jacket. Barn hadn’t grabbed any shaving kits, so both boys were more than little ragged around the edges.

  “Well,” Leslie said, setting her coffee cup down on the counter. “It’s time. I’d call and have someone bring Tyler and Mandy, but with the way they’ve been behaving lately, one would sing the place down and the other would burn whatever remained.”

  Mandy. So that was her name. Ripley was glad to not have to call the girl Man-Pan. That could have proven awkward.

  Especially if she was staying.

  Was she? Shit.

  She looked at Joe, watching him, memorizing his face.

  He crinkled a smile at Juliet and offered her his elbow. “Are you ready to marry this guy?”

  “Hey.” Brett still joked around like they were walking on egg shells. Which they kind of were.

  “And don’t forget,” Emma said, “she’s getting your life insurance.”

  Brett chuckled, the air of delicateness receding. “Yeah. About that...”

  The insurance joke was the one thing that shouldn’t be funny but seemed to be getting real relief from the crowd.

  Alma was already out front, the broom she’d made the night before in hand. Her white hair was down and almost seemed to glow in the gentle rays of the morning sun. It dusted the tops of the trees all around them, crowning the top of the hill behind the cabin.

  Joe stopped at the top of the porch stairs and took Ripley’s hand in his, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. “Can I escort you?”

  “Aren’t you the best man?” She rested her cheek against his arm as they stepped down the stairs.

  “I am, but there aren’t any rings, so I don’t have much to do but to make sure he doesn’t faint.”

  And to shoot him if his bear rampages to the front. But that was her job. Ripley had her gun attached to her thigh. She didn’t have a thigh holster, but she didn’t need one. Just something that would keep it in place without accidentally pulling the trigger. Her Glock was loaded, safety off. She was ready.

  But she really hoped she wouldn’t need it. She hoped he kept it together.

  Leslie stepped out of the house wearing an ankle-length flowing dress of peach and green and blue. Her lush brown hair cascaded down her back and she carried a small bouquet of herbs Ripley didn’t recognize. She smiled at Ripley, then took her place beside Alma.

  Emma and Barn were next. Emma wore a dress similar to Ripley’s, but in yellow. And she wore her combat boots as well. Ripley smiled to herself, glad not to be the only one. Barn looked out of place in shorts and a Hawaiin shirt. His wide smile said he didn’t care.

  He stood on the other side, opposite Joe and Ripley.

  When the door opened next, Brett and Juliet stepped out.

  Juliet was barefoot, and her white and blue gown flowed easily in the slight breeze, giving an air of magic to her movement. She called her bear forward. Her long hair turned white, her green eyes turned blue.

  Brett looked at her and smiled, sadness tinting his dark eyes. But his bear remained in the background.

  Good.

  Barn started to sing, the words strange and foreign. Gaelic? Ripley couldn’t tell, but it was haunting and beautiful at the same time. She wished she knew the words, but at the same time, she was glad she didn’t. His voice invited her mind to drift, allowed her heart to dance along a road of hope she hadn’t dared walk her entire life.

  She hoped the cure worked. She hoped Brett and Juliet lived a long life. She hoped they had many beautiful children.

  Morning sun glinted on Juliet’s freshly healed facial scars. Ripley hoped Brett survived long enough for her to punch him in the face.

  The couple stopped in front of Leslie and turned towards one another, hands clasped tightly between them.

  “I’m not going to get all wordy,” Leslie said, holding her sprigs of herbs at her breast, not unlike a microphone. “You know why we’re here.”

  Smiles rippled through the gathered. From the corner of her eye, Ripley thought she saw a bear peek its head around a tree, but when she looked closer it was gone. For the moment, it seemed they were on common ground. And then the overwhelming scent of bear disappeared.

  For the first time, Ripley felt like she was a part of something real. A family. A unit. Anything.

  Looking up at Joe, she realized with overwhelming certainty that she knew what she wanted. She could never let this man standing next to her go. If their life could be anything like this...

  “As your hands are joined, so are your lives. Hold each other. Love each other. Support each other. Beat each other—but only enough so that the other grows.”

  Juliet chuckled.

  Ripley smiled, reluctant to make any sound that might break the spell.

  Leslie unwrapped the red ribbon circling the stalks of her herb bouquet. She pulled out two sprigs and set one on each of their wrists. Handing the remaining herbs to Alma, Leslie tied the ribbon around their hands, locking everything in place. “Brett, do you promise Juliet that you will be her mate in all ways. That you will love and respect her, that you will support and hold her. That you will make her laugh and that you will be there when you make her cry.”

  Brett ducked his head with a smile. “I hope not to make you cry often.”

  “You better not,” Juliet said quietly.

  “But I do.”

  “Good.” Leslie took in a deep breath, blinking quickly. “And do you, Juliet, promise Brett that you will be his mate in all ways. That you will love and respect him, that you will support and hold him. That you will make him laugh, and that you will be there when you make him cry.”

  “I’ll also beat him with a large stick when needed.”

  “I’m not putting that in the vows,” Leslie said with a smile.

  Juliet raised her free hand to Brett’s face. “I do.”

  Leslie unwound the ribbon from their wrists. “Your lives are bound.”

  Ripley sucked in a breath. That was quick.

  Leslie held up a hand and reached for the broom. Holding it in her hand, she studied the handle for a long moment. “From here on out, you’re going to face hardship. The greater the hardship, the greater the reward at the end. But you have to survive, and you will do that better together than apart.”

  Ripley breathed out, tears blurring the scene and making Leslie almost glow.

  “I call upon morning’s grace and charge this broom with new hope for your life together.”

  Alma took a step forward and put her hand on the broom. “I call upon the blessing of old age and charge this broom with wisdom so you don’t lose your damned heads when things get tough.”

  Ripley chuckled.

  Alma nudged Emma and nodded that she should follow suit.

  Emma blinked, completely taken by surprise. She stepped forward and gripped the broom. “I—” She licked her lips and looked at her big brother with love shining in her eyes. “I call on the memory of skinned knees and wounded pride and... charge this broom...” She stumbled on the words a little. “...with who you were and the hopes of what you’ll become.”

  Leslie beamed a smile at her and nodded to Barn.

  He stepped forward and gripped the broom handle. “I call on the power of the world around you and charge your broom with wonder. Never let your li
ves grow dull.”

  Juliet ducked her head with a smile.

  Leslie looked over at Joe, inviting him forward.

  He looked from it to his brother and back to the broom.

  Ripley gave him a gentle nudge.

  He didn’t know what to bless his brother with. He wanted to bless him with life, but he didn’t know how. What power did he, Joe Elliot, have inside him that could help? He set his hand on the broom handle and closed his eyes in a long blink.

  And he knew. The words climbed to his lips. “I call upon the power of the sky, bright and blue, and on the power of belief. I charge this broom with the power of belief and optimism because if you always believe that something good could happen, it will. Not because you believed it into being, but because you made it happen.”

  Brett’s eyes held his brother’s gaze, thanking him for everything. And where there had been defeat earlier, there was now something else. Fire.

  Juliet blinked back tears and mouthed, Thank you.

  Leslie looked at Ripley with a long breath, tipping her head to the broom.

  What in the world could a padfoot give to a couple on their wedding day? She didn’t know. She had nothing. No blessings.

  Her fingers wrapped around the broom and something welled up from inside. It wasn’t a blessing. It was something she’d learned on the war front. She looked up at the tops of the trees and the words just flowed out of her. “I call upon the sun and the moon, who rise every day and night, no matter what. I charge this broom with the courage to face each new day, each new night, no matter what they each may bring.” With the blessing released, her fingers fell away and she took a step back.

  Her palm tingled, electricity buzzing along her skin.

  Leslie raised the broom to eye level. “I call upon the power of the All Mother to bless your home and hearth with love and fire.”

  Ripley took Joe’s hand and leaned into his arm.

  Juliet stared into Brett’s face, hope shining on her scarred features.

  Leslie set the broom down on the grassy floor. “Are you ready start your new journey?”

  Juliet nodded.