Bears of Burden: WYATT

by Candace Ayers

  “This is where I spend my time,” Zed said, sweeping wide with his arm, encompassing the empty space in front of them and the darkness of the cave behind him. “When I am not with you, I am here.”

  He turned, melting into the darkness of the cave, and Paulette hurried to step in after him, certain that if she lost him in the blackness, she would never be able to find him again, that he would remain lost to her and she would be in the cave alone, endlessly.

  She set her hand on his shoulder, looking to ground herself, and he turned back toward her, his hand wrapping around hers and pulling her forward. “You needn’t worry; you won’t lose me.”

  Even though it was dark, she could hear that little grin in his voice, the one that was dangerously close to a smirk. She imagined she could see the flash of his teeth, the warmth of his smile.

  Smirk or not, it soothed her to hear the words.

  She wasn’t sure how deep the cave went, or whether they were in the main body any more or not, but she could no longer see moonlight filtering in, and the blackness surrounding them seemed total, infinite.

  “We’re almost there,” he murmured, as though he could feel the tension welling up inside of her, as though he knew she needed to be reassured that they were going to end up where he had planned on taking her all along — that they wouldn’t be lost in the black caves he considered his home.

  There was a scrape, a shuffle, the clink of flint, and then there was light, soft and blinding because they had been without for so long.

  And in the room with them was treasure — there was no other word to describe it. Bars and coins of gold and silver, a stash of jewels and priceless art, stacks of paper money.

  Her gasp was audible, even loud in the room that held nothing else but the stash. Not even a chair for Zed to sit on.

  And the room itself was huge. She had felt like the paths they had taken to get there had been tight, just big enough for them to walk through side by side, but this space was wide open, cavernous, in the true sense of the word.

  She thought about the big monster with the triangular head and flaring nostrils.

  Certainly large enough for him.

  “Is there another way in?”

  If he seemed surprised that, of all the questions she might ask, that would be the first she would ask, he did not mention it.

  In the light she could make out his eyes, sharp, dark and handsome. Not those same eyes she’d looked into earlier in the day, the gold and green flecked with a slice of black through the middle.

  “There is,” he said.” It is on the cliffside and more direct. It is not reachable. For humans.”

  He said it casually, and carefully, like maybe he still wasn’t sure how she would react to hearing that said aloud, to hearing that maybe there was something else out there besides humans in the first place.

  Paulette hesitated, like she didn’t know how to bring up what she wanted to say, as though she were concerned she might offend him, or say something she could never take back. “The miners who’ve come in, they’ve talked about the monster who guards the mountain.”

  There was a long silence, while she waited for him to speak and then she continued. “It’s you. The monster.”

  He turned his eyes away from her, and she wondered if, perhaps, he didn’t appreciate being called a monster.

  “It has always been me,” he said roughly. “Always, since before there were even people here to complain about it.”

  “Are there…others?”

  It seemed impossible to think that there could be a whole group of people like Zed, who could change at their whim into another being altogether. Dragons. Paulette found herself wondering what other imaginary creatures might be more fact than imaginary.

  He shook his head. “Our kind is an endangered one. The dragons are lost. Those, like me, who straddle the worlds, we are few. Babies are seldom born. I have met a handful like me in my life, and we do not linger together long. You see how it is here, for me, and there is only one. We do not go unnoticed, even when we try.”

  She stepped toward him, bold and unafraid. She drew one hand over his chest, pausing over his heart to feel its steady rhythm beneath her hand. “But you seem so…human.”

  Now she got to see the smirk instead of just hear it. “Oh, yes. When I am not monster.”

  She frowned. “You know I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t think of you like that. A monster.”

  She hadn’t thought about it that way until she was saying it out loud, but she supposed it was true. At first, she had considered the word monster, but only because she didn’t have another word for it. When it came down to it, she thought of him as a man — a man who had given her an incredible gift, a great opportunity in taking her in. The man who brought her things because — she realized suddenly, with his treasures around her — he wanted to share those treasures he valued with her.

  She was sliding her hand down his chest, stepping into him, until his body was just a breath’s space from hers. She couldn’t bear to meet his eyes, feared the rejection she might see in them, because he was all of this, had all of this, and she was just a human woman, with nothing much to give. A human woman who couldn’t even follow his directions, who put herself in danger, who caused him trouble.

  He stood still beneath her caresses, as she slipped one hand up toward the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his dark hair, the other hand moving down the front of his shirt, like she was waiting for permission to unbutton his shirtfront.

  She hesitated at the top button, as though she wouldn’t be able to go on.

  “Don’t stop,” he growled, and there was an urgency in his voice that couldn’t be missed or mistaken. The buttons passed easily through her fingers, until she was pushing the white fabric off over his shoulders, the thin cotton undershirt quickly removed, until he was nearly naked in front of her, his skin glowing a rich amber in the semi-lit space, infused with the same gold as their backdrop.

  His chest was broad and heavily-muscled, the strong cut of his shoulders inviting her touch.

  With the shirt gone, his skin was almost hot to the touch, and Paulette could feel that thing inside of her she’d been barely holding at bay come roaring through her, to the surface.

  She knew with a certainty that this, this caress, was not going to be enough.

  As if he could read her thoughts, he brought his own hands to her waist, carefully pulling free the sash she wore, spinning her around to unfasten the pearl buttons at the top of the high collar dress.

  Like her, he made short work of the task, his fingers nimble as they moved down the line of buttons, following the curve of her back.

  He slipped the dress off of her shoulders, let it fall to the ground so her pale skin was exposed, the thin silk of her undergarments the only thing hiding her from his eyes.

  He pulled her around again, so she was facing him, and the heat in his eyes, the glow from the room, made her feel like the undergarments were doing very little to protect her from his eyes.

  She could feel his desire. It was coming off of him in waves, wrapping around her, pulling her close and intoxicating her.

  And she wanted him just as badly. That night at the dinner table kept playing through her mind, and all those times she’d thought about what might have been to come, what else might have happened between them.

  It was going to happen now.

  He was pulling her toward him then, suddenly anxious to taste her, his mouth on hers, his hands moving to divest her of the scrap of silk she wore, until she was naked and perfect before him.

  She couldn’t say how it had happened. They were upright, and his hands were on her body, tasting her curves, the shape of her breast and the swell of her hips, and her hands were caught in his hair and tugging at his trousers, and then, suddenly, they were on the floor of the cave, the stone cool and hard beneath her, his body warm and heavy on top.

  And hard. She felt him press against the inside of her thigh. Thi
ck and long and fully aroused.

  She let her hand brush up against him, capture his length, stroke him while his tongue invaded her mouth, while his hand moved toward her core.

  Then he was sliding his fingers up against her, finding her warmth and delving into her, setting an easy pace, like he had nothing to do but watch the pleasure move across her face and move in waves through her body.

  It had been a long time since she had been touched like this. When she had been a newlywed, maybe, before she’d set off on the journey west, where every day had been exhausting and she and Robert had been completely taxed, and then she’d been pregnant and nothing about this — pleasure for the sake of pleasure — had been a high priority.

  And then, just like that, she’d found herself a widow, and it seemed like moments like this were something she might never have again, something she had even forgotten existed, forgotten that she might want.

  Paulette could feel the ache building insider of her. She wrapped her hand more tightly around Zed, loving the sound he made in return, suddenly desperate to have him inside of her, to fully give herself to the man who had already given so much to her.

  She pulled him toward her, nipping at his lower lip, drawing him to her until she was tucked completely beneath him, bringing her legs up and inviting him inside of her.

  He needed no more invitation, with a gentle kiss he was moving upward, sliding into her slick depths, just as desperate to feel her as she had been to feel him.

  And then there was nothing tender or unhurried about their union. She matched his pace, asked for more, her hands moving freely over his body, caressing his shoulders and back, dipping down to cup him and pull him more closely to her.

  “Don’t stop.” It was her turn to moan in his ear, to beg for the pleasure he was giving her.

  And he was only too happy to comply.

  Chapter Nine

  Afterward, they lay sated and spent on the cool cave floor, Paulette tucked neatly into Zed, marveling at how well she fit against him, at how easily his body enveloped hers. Everything had been perfect. The kind of perfection you were sure couldn’t be real until it was happening. She gave a little sigh, reaching for him again.

  She knew they would have to leave this place, this sweet sanctuary where she had been allowed to know him — all of him — just as he had her. That they would return to the little home she thought of as hers.

  And try to figure out how to bring this back with them. To let him be a part of their lives the way she knew with certainty she wanted him to be. To be the first thing she woke to, the last thing she saw at night. She wanted to see the baby in his arms, that irritating endearing smirk. All of it.

  As much as she never wanted to leave this place, she was ready to go back. She was more than ready to have Abigail in her arms again, to feel that soft, small body against hers, and know she had been given a reprieve, and the right to raise her as she had always wanted.

  But this, Zed’s hard, warm body, the way he was moving his hands over her skin. It was hard to give it up. Even for just a little while.

  She finally disentangled herself from him, reaching for her dress, trying not to become distracted by the way his hand was moving over the small of her back, down further over the curve of her backside.

  “Zed,” she whispered, caught somewhere between warning and desire. “We should get back. To Abigail.”

  “Ah, yes,” he gave her a lazy grin, his hand continuing its progress, and it had her thinking of all the things he had done to her body, another tremor of excitement, anticipation of the pleasure she knew he would bring to her again, slipping through her. “Abigail. The other woman in my life.”

  She turned away from him, trying to hide her grin. It felt strange to hear those words on his lips. She hadn’t been anyone’s woman in a long time.

  And now here she was — his, completely.

  And he was hers.

  THE END

  SHADOW SPECTER

  DEPARTMENT 99

  STORY DESCRIPTION

  Agent Lillian Smithson works in the ghost hunting sector of Department 99. Her specialty is dealing with spirits and ghosts.

  Agent Caleb Winters is a bold and brash bear shifter. He has an imposing physical presence and is a member of the Department’s Demonic Response team which sometimes works closely with the ghost hunting sector of the organization.

  Caleb has always carried a torch for the petite, fiery red-headed agent Lillian Smithson. This latest case has them working side by side fighting a demon the likes of which the Department has never seen before. Caleb is doing his best to keep his head and hands on the case where they belong, but damned if his every thought doesn’t stray back to Lillian.

  When Lillian’s fierce independence gets her into life-threatening trouble, can Caleb get to her before it’s too late?

  DEPARTMENT 99

  It’s difficult to get a grasp of exactly what has been happening in the world today, and there are as of yet many unknowns. Regardless, with all of the “new versions” of beings appearing, it has become increasingly important to deal with certain issues. This is where the Department comes in. Part of a covert organization existing throughout the world with branches in different countries and under different names, the Department works with its subsidiaries under the common goal of policing, monitoring, and keeping the world safe for and from the supernatural.

  In the U.S.A., the organization is labeled Department 99.

  It is relatively easy to convince just about anyone that a supernatural occurrence is something commonplace (a task of Department 99.) Most people will return to their daily lives accepting the Department’s cover story. Humans, it turns out, are very good at deceiving themselves.

  There are those, however who remain unconvinced - those who can see through the natural haze that surrounds humans when they are confronted by the supernatural. These people are referred to as Shadow Walkers.

  In such cases, it is the Department’s responsibility to have the Shadow Walker brought into the fold for mental strength testing through a process called re-alignment. It is essential to conduct such testing before revealing the world’s truth in its entirety.

  Unfortunately, realignment doesn’t often lead to a positive outcome and asylums are becoming overcrowded with those who are unable to cope with the complete truth as it is laid before them.

  part 1

  NOWHERE TO HIDE

  Caleb Winters sat watching the small boy as he played in the yard. There was nothing openly unusual about the boy. His name was Finn, and he had just turned five. All in all, the child seemed to be a sturdy lad. In fact, all of the information Caleb had on this family had previously indicated a happy, loving home. The father, Jim, was a well-paid and respected landscaper and the mother, Kelly, ran a small beauty product business out of her home. The two twin girls, Jen and Jess, were ten years old and both doing extremely well in school…. but then there was the boy.

  Up until a few weeks ago, the boy had been just a typical young boy. He rolled around in the dirt, rode his tricycle, and played with the family dog. Then, quite suddenly, something had changed.

  It was around two weeks ago that Finn had started behaving very strangely. He began staring off into the distance completely ignoring his family when they spoke to him. Shortly after that, he began to speak to no one in particular—having entire conversations with the air. At first, Finn’s mother had chalked all of this up to an imaginary friend, but then things started happening that couldn’t be explained.

  Finn’s mother walked into his bedroom one afternoon to find Finn stark naked and drawing strange symbols on the wall in a black marker. When she asked him why he was doing it, he replied that the dark man had told him to. When she asked him what the pictures were, Finn had replied that they weren’t pictures, but a doorway to hell.

  Caleb sighed. It was always sad to see things unfold this way, yet he wasn’t surprised. Part of his job at this point was simply to observe
as things unfolded. Yet, unfortunately for Caleb and for Finn, things seemed to be progressing in the usual way. While Finn’s parents were correct in taking him to see a psychologist (and later a psychiatrist), modern medicine had no cure or treatment for what truly ailed the boy. Caleb had been called in by Department 99, under the guise of a respite worker to keep an eye on things.

  Generally speaking, respite workers were charged with the day-to-day care of emotionally disturbed children. They generally worked closely with families in order to alleviate some of the burden and exhaustion associated with parenting a severely emotionally disturbed child. Caleb looked much too large and muscular and somewhat too well-dressed for the position, but he got along with the family, and more importantly was able to keep a close eye on the boy.

  Department 99 was very specific in the details of his assignment with this family. Caleb was only to intervene if the boy’s life was in imminent danger. Otherwise, he was simply there to observe and record his findings.

  Caleb squinted as he watched Finn hop around in the sand at the small playground. Another smaller child had approached the boy, and all seemed to be progressing nicely. They seemed to be negotiating the best way to begin a game of hide-and-seek but could not agree on who should be the seeker first. A warm breeze blew through Finn’s hair and Caleb remarked to himself that he was a handsome little boy—a child that any parent would be proud to call his or her own.

  Finn’s face reddened and he stomped his left foot into the sand. “I want to hide first!” He screamed while crossing his arms sternly across his small frame. The other child’s name was Wyatt and his mother called across from a nearby bench that the boys needed to make sure they both had a turn.