by
Becca Fanning
BEARLY TAMED
Linnie Foster felt like she needed a cigarette. She’d never smoked, but in the movies, this seemed like the sort of situation where you’d have a cigarette. It was a nerves thing. They calmed your nerves, right?
The motel room she was trapped in seemed tiny, even though the police had upgraded her to a double. Pastel shapes covered the peeling wallpaper. Were they once flowers? This motel didn’t seem like the kind of place that rented rooms by the week very often; Linnie suspected they were usually leased by the hour.
One of the two detectives, Parker, was a heavy set, wide-shouldered man. He was the one currently keeping watch at the window. Parker would pull the curtain back and glance out into the parking lot every time a set of lights drifted past the window. He seemed to suffer from a chronic digestive disagreement, often putting a hand to his stomach and grimacing. He did it with such a passive automation that he probably no longer noticed. His stomach gurgled again. “Hurg,” he said, rubbing his stomach like a genie lamp.
The other detective, a woman named Longheim, had a severe, angular face. She sat in a chair beside the window with her elbows resting on her knees. She was trying to look focused, but mostly looked tired. She was fidgeting with a pack of worn playing cards, fanning them open and loudly shuffling them together. She never drew a card or even looked at them. Just fan, bridge, shuffle. Fan, bridge, shuffle.
The image of two detectives protecting a valuable witness was what kept Linnie thinking about how much she needed a cigarette. It would complete the look to have a plume of smoke floating up from her cigarette. Maybe she could sit near one of the table lamps and dramatically turn it on when…what? What did she think would happen? The waiting felt like it had stretched from hours into long days; the quiet tension hung in the air.
Linnie’s thoughts drifted to young Brandon, the image of him looking up at her as he clung to her leg. She could vividly remember the boy’s haunted eyes looking at her from behind his mother’s skirt. Brandon’s drawings were so disturbing; so much black and red, bodies with their limbs akimbo, often eyeless. He was a good boy. He was still a good boy, but for how much longer? How long can you be around that kind of family before it seeps into you, corrupting you from inside? Until all you know is an oath you’ve sworn and a ring you’ve kissed.
She could recall conversations she overheard from the next room, dark and stern. Codes when they were careful and outright abhorrent things when they weren’t. That’s when the generous cash bonuses came. When she’d agreed to become Brandon’s nanny, she had never heard of the Accardi family. She had gone to school for early childhood education; she’d been excited to be hired as Brandon’s nanny. So much potential in that little scrunched up face.
But that seemed like forever ago. By the time Linnie went to the police, she had learned more than she’d ever wanted to know about the mob and was terrified of what might come next. There was only one code in organized crime: you don’t snitch. Bad things happened when you did. Final things.
The casualness of the process had thrown Linnie for a loop. She thought it would be like in the movies. Like a femme fatale in East Berlin, she’d pass an envelope to a detective on a bus bench. Then she’d be whisked away under heavy guard to some place safe and far away.
Instead, she got called in to the station where a bored lieutenant filled out a form at the front desk. A guy next to her was screaming at the desk sergeant because he wouldn’t dispatch a patrol car to investigate a broken car window. A line formed behind her. A line, like it was the bank on payday.
If justice was anything, it was slow. Slow, deliberate and full of paperwork. What came next seemed to be long waits in crappy motel rooms as the district attorney waited for a court date. And of course, it was an election year for some bureaucrat, so every action had to be weighed against political cost. The police hadn’t let Linnie out of their sight for three weeks, and that made for very few trips out of the motel room. She’d begun to go a little stir-crazy. These rooms never got HBO.
Now, here she was, waiting to be handed off to another set of detectives. She sighed deeply, and Longheim looked over at her. The cards paused their endless dance.
“You okay?” the detective asked, the fatigue heavy in her voice giving way to annoyance.
“Yeah. Yeah, sure. I’m fine.” Linnie stood up and walked over to the bathroom. She didn’t have to go, but she knew she was sick of just sitting around waiting for the handoff to come. She closed the bathroom door behind her and examined her reflection in the mirror, and sighed again. She looked worn, stretched … and tired.
Linnie heard a knock at the hotel room’s door. Through the bathroom door, she heard muffled voices; Parker and Longheim, and then … another voice she recognized. She sighed, and blinked at her image in the mirror, and then ran a hand over her face. The voice was Martin Clarke, the district attorney. Maybe there was finally a court date?
When Linnie exited the bathroom, she found that there were now six people in suits packed into the small double room. There were Longheim and Parker, plus Mr. Clarke, but the other three were new. Compared to the detectives, their suits looked expensive, and tailored.
One of the strangers swiveled his head to look at Linnie, and tilted his dark sunglasses to look over them at her. Linnie felt both a thrill and a chill pass through her, as the man’s glittering, golden eyes locked with hers from beneath a cowboy hat.
She’d heard of them, of course; the Shifters who lived alongside and among humans. She’d never met a Shifter before, though. The sharp-dressed man’s eyes narrowed, noting Linnie’s surprise. Did he…did he just sniff the air?
“Linnie.” Martin said. He sounded worn out, exhausted. “I’ve got some people here I’d like you to meet. This is Clive, that’s Cain, and this is Marcus.” He indicated the three well-built men standing between him and the door. Each of them was wearing long coats and dark glasses with somber expressions.
Linnie nodded, without extending her hand. “Pleasure to meet you all. Martin, are we...”
“There’s been a problem.” Martin said, his eyes darting around the objects in the room. He always did this, like one day he’d see a cobra on the nightstand and jump back in time. “Somewhere in my office, there’s been a leak.”
Linnie felt her blood run cold and her stomach turn somersaults. “A…leak? What the fuck do you mean? How the hell does that happen? Oh God. Oh God…what does that mean?”
“There’s a…good chance that members of the Accardi family have isolated our source.”
Through the cold chill of her fear, Linnie felt the red-hot burn of anger. “You son of a bitch.” She resisted slapping Martin, but only just barely. She turned away, so that he couldn’t see the tears welling up in her eyes. “You told me my name would stay out of this. That when all of this, all of this would be over, and I could…”
“The situation’s changed, Linnie, and…and I’m sorry.” Martin said, holding his voice steady. “But, the Accardi are obviously on edge. They’re afraid of what you might know. This puts us… honestly, Linnie, this puts us in a great operating position. They’re nervous, and their power structure is shifting. This is a great opportunity for us to…”
Linnie glared at Martin, and he grew quiet under her withering stare.
Parker spoke up. “So who are you guys?” he asked, gesturing towards the three men in dark suits that had entered with Martin. “You ain’t cops.”
Martin half-turned. “Because of the…high-profile nature of this prosecution, and the unknown nature of this leak, we’ve been able to access some, uh, unconventional resources. These gentlemen are…third-party experts with regards to witness protection. They’re going to be taking over Linnie’s care, to ensure she stays safe. This is Cain DuMont, Linnie, and he-”
Linnie shook her head in disbelief. “You people. So, I’m supposed to go with …”
The man Martin called Cain interrupted Li
nnie’s sentence, interjecting to say, “Ms. Foster, I understand your concerns, and we definitely should discuss it. But now is absolutely not the right time.” Cain stepped, reaching out to take Linnie’s hand. Like a warm vice, his grip was strong and somehow comforting.
Martin opened his mouth to say something, but a firm look from Cain cut him off.
“Now” Cain continued “...is time for you and I to leave.”
Linnie looked at her hand, held in Cain’s. His hands were wide and steady, and the feeling of him holding her hand reassured Linnie. She felt safe, or at least safer, with Cain holding her hand. And those eyes…God, those eyes!
After a pause, she nodded, and Cain motioned towards the door with his head. He then turned, saying, “Clive, you’ll…?”
“We’ll get everything squared away,” Clive answered, while Linnie and Cain headed out the door.
A few wordless minutes later, Cain was pulling his black SUV away from the parking lot, with Linnie seated beside him. He moved methodically, practiced training making everything he did automatic.
Linnie wondered if that was some kind of soldier training? Or maybe because he was a Shifter? She glanced out the windshield at the lights of the city. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been home. Is there any chance we could stop off at my place? I need some clothes, and…”
Wordlessly, Cain shook his head no.
“There’s things I need there! Shirts, maybe some…underwear,” Linnie said.
Cain adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, and seemed to ignore the question. He licked his lips and kept his eyes on the traffic. Not just the cars and where they were. He was looking at the people in the cars. Some cars he would just glance past. But any car that held a group of men earned his stare.
Quietly, she added, “There’s photos. Of my mother. Earrings, from my grandmother. Christmas…things.” She drifted into silence, and sighed. She felt her lower lip tremble, so she turned to look out the window and away from Cain. “I didn’t know it would be like this!”
A quiet moment filled the car. Cain broke the silence by asking, “Your place is just off 10th Avenue?”
Linnie nodded, as she felt tears run down her cheeks, and felt the corners of her mouth twitching. Cain sighed, and said, “Five minutes. Less. Just what you…need. Personal things. In and out. This is not a packing opportunity. This is a grabbing opportunity.”
Linnie wiped at her cheeks with her cuffs. “Thank you.”
“Deviate from the plan, and there will likely be a price. Let’s hope we don’t have to pay it tonight.”
Linnie’s suitcase sat open on the bed, and she was doing her best to prioritize the contents of her apartment. She set in a photo album from when she was a kid; her grandmother’s earrings; she made sure Cain wasn’t looking to put in her teddy bear. Her sister’s favorite Christmas tree decoration...
Cain waited in the other room, but Linnie could feel his impatience through the wall. She had just a few minutes to pack her life into a bag, and here he was pressing her for time.
“I thought I was clear. We have to move,” Cain said through the door, interrupting Linnie’s efforts to get her shirts and pants rolled up to take up as little room as possible.
“I know, I know!” she called. “I get it, okay. I’m rushing as fast as I…”
The door to Linnie’s bedroom was flung open, and she shrieked.
Cain stormed in and took one look at the suitcase. “Zip up the bag. We’re done. We have to go. Now.”
“Just a damn second,” Linnie snarled back. “This is my fucking life I’m packing into this …”
A loud knock came on the front door. “Utilities!” demanded a deep voice. “We’ve got a gas leak in the building!”
Cain’s hand flew to Linnie’s shoulder, and he pushed her to the ground. He was immensely strong, and his hands wide; she nominally attempted to resist, but realized she wouldn’t be able to. Once Cain had her kneeling, he murmured, “Stay down…”
“But the gas-” Linnie murmured, sniffing the air.
“There’s no gas leak. If things go bad, run and don’t look back,” Cain said, standing and heading out the door of the bedroom.
She didn’t have very long to think about it, though, before she heard a crash from her living room. She heard the sound of wood splintering, and then two male voices, grunting. She crawled across to the door of her bedroom so she could look around the doorframe to see what was happening.
From her vantage point, she could see that Cain was pinned to the ground by a shorter, thick-built man. Their glittering eyes were locked on each other and their hands interlocked, as they each struggled for an advantage against the other. She heard Cain growl as he heaved, flinging the shorter man off him, and hurling him across the room. Half a second after he disappeared from Linnie’s line of sight, she heard the sound of her television crashing to the ground.
Cain seized the moment to roll back onto his feet, glancing to Linnie and catching her eye. “Go! Now!” Cain bellowed, pointing to the open door, as he turned back to face the rest of her apartment.
Linnie didn’t need to be told twice. She darted down the hallway, and through the living room where the brawl was taking place, then behind Cain towards the splintered remnants of the door out of her apartment. As she slipped out, she glanced over her shoulder, only to see that, where there had once been a squat man lying in the rubble of her entertainment center, a strange creature was rolling to standing on his cloven hooves.
His face was now projected forward, and his hair straight upwards; his nose curled up with his pronounced nostrils flaring, tusks jutting out the sides of his mouth. The monster’s mouth opened, and it squealed; it was a terrible, high-pitched sound that carried through the air and tore at Linnie’s eardrums. Cain glanced over his shoulder, and saw Linnie still standing there.
“Get out! Run for the car!” Cain shouted as he was tackled to the ground, a long furry snout buried in his midsection.
Linnie saw them both go flying back, disappearing into her kitchen, and Linnie heard the sound of her shelves and cabinets breaking, her ceramic plates shattering. She ran, but not like she did back in high school. She ran like her primitive ancestors ran, the ones who ran away fast enough to escape tooth and claw.
She fled down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Linnie could feel her heart thumping and her blood pumping; she couldn’t believe this was happening, couldn’t believe she’d gotten up to her eyeballs in this. She pushed through the fire door in the stairwell, exiting into an alleyway. She paused, glancing in both directions. From above her, she could hear the high-pitched, menacing squeals of the terrible half-hog creature that was in her apartment. Linnie bit her lip, trying to focus, and started to head down the alley towards the back of the building where Cain had parked. From behind her, Linnie heard a yell. She looked back, and saw two men pointing at her and launching into a pursuit. Linnie swore loudly and turned to run.
At that moment, there was a loud crash above her, accompanied by the sound of smashing bricks. Linnie looked up, and skidded to a stop as saw the side of the building giving way. Coming through the wall four stories above her head was a massive, hulking form, nearly nine foot to the shoulder and covered in short black fur. As the creature crashed to the ground, Linnie could see that it resembled an immense bear; a bear the size of a mid-sized truck. Linnie could make out the beaten and broken form of a hog-man beneath the bear’s right paw, now crushed into the asphalt. The bear raised his head and gave a roar that echoed through the alleyway and made the ground shudder, and Linnie screamed.
She stumbled and collapsed, falling onto her rear. She didn’t know where to run. Her legs didn’t remember how to run. This was it. A calmness ran through her, some kind of chemical gift from her brain moments before her death. A final goodbye.
The bear stepped over Linnie, keeping her safely beneath it as it pulled itself up on on it’s hind legs to confront the men that were charging towards them. T
he bear’s massive paw lashed out, and slammed the first of their attackers against the wall. The bricks shattered with the force of the impact, crumbling to dust from the force of the blow. The other man snarled, and his body twisted before Linnie’s eyes. She saw tusks dig their way out of the man’s mouth, and watched his face extend and his nose upturn as he shrieked, the sound became a high-pitched squeal as the transformation went on.
Hook, Line And Sinker (BBW Shifter Romance) (FisherBears Book 1) Page 15