by Amy Star
“It’s alright, you two,” she said to them, then she turned back to Mason, who was already closer. “You’re scaring them. Isn’t it enough that you’re planning to break my heart so I’ll leave? Do you have to do this? I’m not going anywhere.”
She was still walking as she talked, annoyed that he would go to such greats lengths to run her off the mountain. Didn’t he understand that she couldn’t leave this place? It called to her soul like a siren’s song, and the connection to her late grandmother and all those before her wasn’t something she was willing to give up.
She bent down as she passed under a tree, grabbing a long, thin branch that had fallen without slowing down. He wasn’t going to intimidate her, and if he tried, she was going to make sure he regretted it.
He ambled toward her, staring at her without blinking.
“Alright, that’s creepy,” she muttered, not sure why he was taking things so far.
When he sped up, she balked, her own instincts screaming at her to run. Even knowing what she knew, her body was having a hard time shutting off her adrenaline response to seeing a large black bear a few dozen yards away.
When the bear charged, she knew fear like she’d never felt in her life. When she heard her name called out from the tree line to the right of the bear and saw Mason appear on foot, running as fast as he could, her heart stopped in her chest.
It’s not Mason, she thought, panic seizing her muscles, adrenaline flooding her body violently as the sound of her own heartbeat filled her ears. She could see his clothes ripping as he shifted with each stride, but he was so far away, and the bear, the real wild bear in front of her was so close.
She turned and ran just as Mason yelled at her to run. Her feet hardly touched the ground as she flew over the grass, heading for the barn. The doors were all closed and latched, but it was the closest building, and if she could get to the barn quick enough, she might be able—
She pushed the thought from her mind. She wasn’t going to be able to get through the door and close it, but she had to try. She could hear the beast exhaling with each stride, the smell of the wild animal reaching her nose. The bear was close, and Clara wasn’t even to the barn yet.
Swinging her arm behind her, she screamed when the end of the stick connected with a body, and the bear growled as she caught him in the snout. The bear slowed for a second to swipe at his stinging nose, but Clara had only made it a few more feet when the bear shook its head and continued after her.
“Mason!” she screamed in terror.
The barn was close now, but she knew she wasn’t going to make it in time to open the door and get inside. The latch took too much manipulating to release it, a safety mechanism to keep the bears out and the horses safe. Now that safety device was going to cost Clara her life.
She was steps away from the barn when she felt something slam into her side, and she was suddenly in the air, flipping end over end like a ragdoll until she hit the side of the barn so hard it rattled the heavy door on its hinges. She swung wildly, but she’d lost the stick at some point, and she was helpless as she hit the ground and the bear descended upon her.
Screaming, she covered her face with her arms, unable to get up from her back, kicking her legs as hard as she could and hoping that she was connecting with something tender and not just pissing the bear off more.
It roared, standing up on hind legs, saliva dripping from its mouth and over its sharp teeth. Clara was petrified, too scared to even cry out. She was going to die, and there was nothing she could do. Frantically, she tried to make a connection with the bear, but it was closed off to her, its bloodlust overwhelming everything else. If she’d tried before the bear had charged, it might have worked. But now, the bear was guided entirely by instinct, and nothing was going to penetrate its need.
A blur of black fur and limbs appeared out of nowhere, grunting when it hit the first bear full force, taking them both to the ground.
Mason, Clara thought weakly, watching the two bears tumble end over end, a tangle of hairy arms and legs. Clara sat there, stunned, watching the bears battle it out for a moment before she realized that she had no idea which bear Mason was, and if the wild bear won, she wouldn’t know until it was on her. If she tried to jump in and help, she risked harming the wrong bear.
Terrified for Mason but also driven to save herself, she worked the latch until the bolt came loose, pushing the door open just enough to slip into the barn and close it behind her. She latched it tight and slid down the wall until she was sitting on the cold concrete, arms wrapped around her knees as she trembled violently. She felt sick, and her head hurt so bad that she couldn’t think.
A roar like she’d never heard before echoed off the walls of the barn, then everything went silent, and Clara held her breath. She was shaking so hard her teeth were nearly chattering, and she felt like she might pass out at any moment. She forced herself to stay focused, trying to wet her mouth that had gone dry from sheer terror, so she could call out to Mason and see if he was alive.
The latch rattled feebly, and Clara watched the door, wondering if a wild bear could open the door even with the latch. They were known to be clever.
She was trying to get up off the floor when the latch turned and the door was pushed back, the last light of the late afternoon flooding into the barn. She could see Mason’s silhouette before he stepped into the barn, looking frantically around until he spotted her.
“Clara,” he said, going to her and scooping her into his arms.
Her head lolled to the side and she felt faint, but she held on.
“Clara, you’re hurt,” Mason said, still holding her close.
“I hit my head,” she said. “Why does my voice sound like that?”
“Like what?”
“So far away.”
“Where are your truck keys?”
“What?” she asked, confused by his question and a world that was getting dark around the edges.
“Your keys.”
“In the truck,” she said, letting her head fall onto his shoulder as she fought the darkness that threatened to bury her.
“Seriously?” he said, but he was already moving, carrying her out the barn door toward the truck.
She caught a glimpse of the bear as Mason walked past it. When she turned away, the world lurched around her.
“Clara, stay with me,” he said, shouting.
She blinked, surprised that she was in the passenger seat of her truck, bouncing down the fire road.
“How did I get here?” she asked.
She could hear the slurred words coming from her mouth, but she couldn’t make anything clearer. She felt lost and disconnected. And when she blinked, they were off the fire road and already driving past Little Hope, which should have been thirty minutes away.
“Mason?” she asked, scared.
“An ambulance is meeting us in Little Hope,” he said calmly.
“An ambulance?” she repeated, reaching out for the sun visor so she could flip the mirror down.
Mason reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently, preventing her from opening the mirror.
“Don’t look,” he said quietly. “You’ll be alright, but you’re hurt really bad.”
“I feel like you’re lying,” she said.
“I wouldn’t lie to you.” He kissed the palm of her hand, still holding it while he guided the truck into the feed store parking lot.
When Clara saw the MedEvac copter in the large parking lot, she realized that he hadn’t said an ambulance. He’d said air ambulance.
She started trembling, terrified that she was going to die when he scooped her up out of her seat and held her in his lap as he opened the door.
“Don’t panic,” he said as if sensing her fear. “Seattle is three hours away, and time is important, so I called in a favor.”
“What kind of favor?” she asked weakly.
“The kind of favor where I donate enough money to buy and man a fully equipped air
ambulance.”
“Oh.”
“It’s going to be loud when I open the door, but they’re coming with the stretcher now. You’ll be there in about thirty minutes.”
“Are you coming with me?”
“No. I’m driving your truck there so we have a way to get home. There isn’t enough room for me to ride with you, anyway.”
“I’m scared,” she said.
“Me too, but it’s going to be alright.”
A woman dressed in a flight suit pulled open the truck door, smiling reassuringly at them. Clara couldn’t hear her over the sound of the chopper’s engines idling nearby, but Mason must have because he lowered her onto the stretcher, kissing her hand one last time before letting her go.
“I’ll see you soon,” he said.
She felt them strapping her down to the stretcher as she watched Mason drive the truck toward the highway. Her eyes were heavy, and she was struggling to keep them open.
“Tell me your name, honey,” the woman said, climbing into the chopper with her and the rest of the team.
“Clara.”
“Last name.”
“Finch.”
“Do you know where you are?”
She tried to answer, but her eyes closed, and when she was finally able to open them again, she saw nothing but sky above her.
A petite brunette leaned over her as the gurney bumped along the concrete and the last pink shades of the sky faded into darkness.
“I’m Doctor Deacon,” the woman said. “Can you tell me your name?”
“I see stars,” she said.
“That’s because it’s nighttime now. We’re on the roof, headed into surgery. Do you know your name?”
“Finch.”
“Your first name?”
Clara tried to turn her head to look at the woman, but she was bound tight, unable to move more than her fingers and toes.
“First name?” she asked.
“It’s alright,” the doctor said as the gurney was shoved into an elevator with lights that were far too bright. “We’re headed into surgery right now. You’re going to be fine.”
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
Doctor Deacon smiled.
“Then it must be true,” she said, holding a cream-colored folder over Clara’s face to shield her eyes from the sterile lighting. “Mason will be here by the time you wake up.”
“I’m sleepy,” she said.
“It’s alright. We’re in the OR now. Doctor Murphy is going to give you something for the pain, and before you know it, you’ll be awake and in your own room.”
Clara nodded, but her head never moved.
The lights in the OR were so bright that they burned through her closed eyelids, scorching her already tortured brain. There were dozens of conversations going on around her as someone stuck a needle into her arm and a cool liquid flooded her veins. She opened her mouth to say something, but she was already fading. In a matter of seconds, everything was black, and Clara’s last thought before she gave herself over to it completely was to wonder if Mason had bothered getting dressed before he drove her into town.
She didn’t think he had.
CHAPTER 15
Mason was sitting by her side when she stirred in the bed. Setting down the book he’d been reading, he watched her for a moment, hoping this would be the time that her eyes opened and she woke up for good.
She grimaced in her sleep, something she’d been doing for most of the week when the pain meds were getting close to wearing off. He knew the nurses would be in shortly to refresh her lines. They seemed to have it down to a science, and Clara was rarely in pain for more than a few minutes before they showed up.
Her eyelids fluttered, and he held his breath, her limp hand wrapped in both of his. This was her second week of recovery, and while the bruises were nearly gone and her wounds had nearly healed, Clara had yet to open her eyes and keep them opened. He hoped that this would be the time, but they’d been down this road so many times over the past fifteen days that he didn’t want to get his hopes up.
She moaned, stretching her body from side to side and furrowing her brow.
“That’s new,” he whispered, still too afraid to hope.
But when she opened her eyes and their gazes locked, he knew that this time, she was finally with him.
“Hi there,” he said softly. “I’ve missed you.”
“Hi.”
“Are you hurting too much? I can call the nurse.”
“I’m alright,” she said. “How long was I out?”
“Fifteen days, twelve hours, and twenty-three minutes. Not that I was counting or anything.”
She laughed then winced.
“Who’s taking care of the horses?”
He smiled.
“You’re something else. Slammed into a wall by a damn bear and your first thought is of your horses. They’re fine. My friend is taking care of them.”
“It better not be that Bethany chick.”
“It’s not,” he said solemnly. “It’s my friend Amos. He’s going to help with the plans, so we can make sure that the colony can be accessed without interfering with your land and your property.”
“You mean… you’re not going to try to run me off the mountain so you can have it all?” she said without anger.
“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “I mean it. Look, there’s something I have to tell you. If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll understand why I felt I had to do that. But I promise you, Clara, my love for you is real, and I left you at the lake that day to finish up the plans so that your corner of Bear Mountain could remain undisturbed and still serve the colony.”
“I’m listening.”
She tried to fold her hands, but the hand with the IV was secured to the bedrail. She scowled at it then settled herself to listen to what he had to say.
His mouth was dry, his mind muddled with all the words he wanted to say at once to explain who and what he was. He decided that blurting it out was the best course of action. He could explain the rest later.
“Clara, the thing is… I know that you found out about me. I don’t know how, but that doesn’t really matter. Anyway, my parents’ generation made a deal with a powerful witch so we could live amongst the humans without breaking their laws. But we gave up something huge to get what we wanted, and part of that was—”
There was a knock on the door, and Doctor Deacon poked her head into the room.
“I thought I saw some promising activity on your readouts. How are you feeling?”
She closed the door behind her, and Mason heard the telltale sound of a lock being pressed. He turned his attention to the doctor, wondering what was up.
“I feel a lot better. Just a little nauseous and really tired.”
“I’m afraid that’s going to linger for a while longer,” she said with a smile. She wheeled a small screen over to the bed and turned on the screen. “Can you lift your shirt a little?” she asked.
Mason watched Clara and the doctor, tension growing inside him. He didn’t have to be a doctor to know what was being done. It looked like Clara had secrets of her own.
A small, flickering heart showed up on the screen, the little being inside already making tiny motions on the screen.
“What?” Clara said, clearly shocked. “I can’t be pregnant.”
“Well, that doesn’t seem to be up for debate,” Doctor Deacon said.
“The only person I’ve slept with since my gran got sick two years ago is Mason. And that was just a few weeks ago.”
“You’re right, there’s no way this baby is a couple weeks old,” Doctor Deacon said, printing off a screen grab and handing it to Clara. “This baby is about a third of the way through gestation already, which would be about fourteen weeks unless…”
She trailed off, clicking a few places on the screen with her mouse until the approximate gestational age changed from three months to three weeks. Mason was surprised and more than a little
confused.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Doctor Deacon smiled.
“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me, but I’ll have to give you a referral for a specialist who can keep their mouth shut.”
Mason had a bad feeling he knew where this was going, but he played it off. He couldn’t risk telling the doctor something she didn’t already know.
“The reason the baby looks so advanced is because it’s your baby,” she said, holding his gaze without wavering. “You’re a werebear, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he said. “But we can’t mate with humans. That was part of the curse, which is why I found others like me from around the country. Our mating pool was getting thin, and our numbers were dwindling.”
“It says you can’t mate with humans, right?” the doctor asked.
“That’s right, why?”
She looked at Clara, and Mason followed suit.
“Are you going to tell him?”
“Tell me what?” Mason asked. “Are you a bear?”
Clara laughed softly.
“Not even close. Doctor Deacon, how did you know?”
“Things have been happening to the equipment since you came in. It’s common with your kind while your brain sorts itself out and your powers are restored after a catastrophic injury.”
“Powers?” Mason asked. “I’m so confused. What’s going on?”
“Yes, Mason. I have powers. That’s why I could open a locked door and why animals don’t run away when they see me and why the mice stay out of the barn. I just found out when my gran died, so it’s not like I knew about it.”
“Knew about what?”
“Mason, I’m a witch.”
“Like an actual witch? Casting spells and…oh my gosh, that’s what happened to your hair!”
“It is.”
“You acted like you didn’t want your hair red.”
“I didn’t.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I said I was a witch, Mason. I didn’t say I was good at it.”
Mason couldn’t help but laugh.
“That explains so much. But you’re still human.”
“You are, too,” the doctor said. “Well, in part. It’s the parts of you both that are the same that came together to make this happen.” She shrugged. “Who knows, maybe all those fairy tales were right, and all it takes to break a curse is true love’s kiss.”