Secret to Bear

by Miriam Becker

  “Don’t want your neighbors to hear you say that. They might not understand,” he explained.

  “I’m really sorry,” I said with gritted teeth. “I think it’s just probably some vengeance thing. Some guy hurt me and— “

  “I understand, really,” he eagerly assured me. “I wouldn’t blame you, even. But it’s lucky you’ve got control of yourself. I’m exhausted—probably too tired to even fight back. You could easily pin me down and use me like a sex toy.”

  With a heaving sense of relief I found the wallet and pulled several bills out. I shoved them over to the pizza boy. “Here’s the money. Sorry for the wait. Keep the tip.” I moved to open the door for him.

  “Are you going to be okay?” he asked. Deep concern was dripping a bit too heavy from his words. I sensed his sexual smells strangely mounting, even after warning him.

  “God, I don’t know,” I grunted. “But you need to leave. Now!”

  “Would it help if I got undressed?” he asked, reaching up to unbutton his shirt, his deep blue eyes steady on mine.

  “What?” I exploded. “No! What the hell?”

  “Should I undress you?” he persisted.

  I was shocked to find myself hesitating, staring with a gnawing need at the vulnerable awkward boy, his slender body and soft blond hair. My craving was grinding inside me.

  “Get out!” I bit, grabbing his arm and shoving him out into the hall.

  Slamming the door, I tossed open the pizza box and pulled the toppings off with my fingers. The pizza was nearly naked before I finally felt the hunger subside, and a sweet calm replaced it.

  I sat and stared at the tomato sauce on my hands, my thoughts slowly clearing. The events of the past hours flooded my brain—waking up bloody and naked, the pounding hungers, the sounds and smells around me. Nothing made sense. I was losing my mind.

  After several confusing minutes of trying in vain to think things through I changed from my pants suit to jeans and a t-shirt, pulled my shoes on, and went out to clear my brain in the early evening air.

  I wandered aimlessly, yet driven. The weird events of the past two days spilled through my mind, but none of it seemed able to sort itself out. I longed for some rational explanation, but none came. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I was going insane, and I was becoming increasingly dangerous.

  There was that damned bar again, blue neon lights flickering in the dusk, calling out to me. The dark brick walls were worn and damaged, the windows barred. The place was a total dive. But, even though I felt like I was meandering pointlessly around the streets, this was the third time I had passed by the place. And each time I noticed it I felt an odd tugging interest to go inside.

  I glanced around. This was a neighborhood I normally avoided, and for obvious reasons. But I had felt oddly compelled to come this way, against my better judgment.

  I noticed the dark form of a man slipping back into the shadows further down along the vacant street. But what was so concerning was that he seemed to notice me, as well.

  Again I sensed a bizarre longing to visit the bar. “Ursula’s,” the small neon letters over the door announced. I stared in dismay—and felt the interest grow. I also heard the man from the shadows, his steps steadily approaching, each one padding as softly as he could manage.

  “Screw it,” I muttered. I crossed the street and slipped into the dark lounge. Cigarette smoke hung in the dinge, swirling amidst the smells of intoxication, vomit, liquor, and the bizarre aroma of dog. The music crackled too low to identify if it was country or rock. The sound of chinking glass was more stimulating anyway.

  Across the room a large, hulking man sat to nurse his drink alone in the corner booth. He caught my eye almost instantly, and I could see I had already caught his as well. His gaze roamed uncomfortably up and down my entire body, his eyes taking in my every move. I glanced sharply away as I sat down at the bar, terrified by the sudden, deep interest that swelled inside me.

  I ordered a gin and glanced back. He was still brazenly staring at me, his brow furrowing. My stomach fluttered and rolled with the odd sensation that I knew him already. It wasn’t that we had met; it was more some inexplicable connection that seemed to bind us instantly.

  He didn’t look away as I returned his stare, so I sat and scrutinized his face. His eyes were dark and lonely, his face sullen but stern. His chest and shoulders were bulky, powerful, and rippled with tense muscle.

  He pushed himself up from the booth, drink in hand, and I turned away in panic. But not looking at him didn’t help—his scent of bourbon blending with sweet masculinity was heavy and impossible to ignore as he approached. And there was something else too—a smell about him I couldn’t quite identify, but was comfortingly familiar… and enticingly exciting.

  The bartender set my gin down just before the stranger slipped onto the stool beside me. I grasped the cool glass with both hands and stared at the reflection we cast in the mirrors behind the bar. I could see him brooding over his drink, his jaw twitching, his eyes glimmering with determination. He didn’t look at me right away, and I refused to look directly over at him, but we were each both intensely aware of the other. A deep, tumultuous need for him filled my gut, and I fought to ignore it. I was, after all, going completely insane. For all I knew he wasn’t really there at all.

  “I’m Gage,” he muttered, his warm, gruff voice stimulating a part of me I never even realized I had.

  I shuddered with lustful pleasure, squelched a betraying smile, and nodded. “I’m Johanna,” I replied. “But everyone calls me Jo.”

  He took a long, cleansing breath. I loved the sound and smell of him, and I had to turn away to hide my pained cringe.

  “So what are you?” he asked with a shrug.

  “What?” I blurted. I gave him a shocked glare.

  He looked at me, his eyes caressing my face, my hair, my neck. I longed to feel his fingers on me, his hands grasping my body, his—oh god, my privates swelled with intense heat. I fidgeted uncomfortably as his gaze roamed low down my chest, but I breathed in deep and held it for a long moment.

  “What are you, exactly?” he repeated. His eyes rose to focus on mine, and I felt his piercing gaze flow into me like melted chocolate.

  “Right now I’m a bit offended,” I answered.

  He gave me a puzzled stare. “I apologize if I’m being intrusive, but I could smell you from across the room the moment you came in,” he explained in a low whisper. “I had to come over and talk to you.”

  “Wow,” I chortled. “Now that’s a lovely new pick-up line. I bet that works on all the girls.” I glanced up into the mirror. The booth just behind me was full of disheveled and rowdy young men, and they were all staring directly at me as they crouched over their glasses. What was worse, I could tell now that it was them that smelled like dog. I looked back at Gage.

  His face scrunched and he stared at me in total confusion. “I can tell that you’re a bear,” he whispered. “I just don’t know exactly which species. You’re—different.”

  A shocking terror shook me, and I almost spilled my gin. I stared back at him in horror and dismay, a thousand wild thoughts racing through my tortured brain. My surprised face only baffled him even more.

  He really had just said I was a bear. I remembered seeing my claws and hair, but that had been a hallucination. I reached out my hand and grabbed his arm, testing to see if he were even real.

  The warmth of his skin flooded through me. The feel of the soft hair, his sinewy muscle beneath masculine skin, sent fevered chills up my spine. He looked down at my hand over his arm, but I couldn’t convince myself to let go. He was more than real—he was enthralling.

  I picked up my gin with the other hand, drank the fiery liquid in one quick gulp, and set the glass back down. My stomach churned with a disaster of cravings and confusion. I stared intently down at the bar, refusing to look up again for fear that he might pull away if he saw the look in my eyes.

  “Are
you okay?” he asked, his voice sincerely concerned.

  I laughed and shook my head. The thought crossed my mind to tell him about how I had grown claws, and how I was banned from the local grocery store for eating the raw salmon. Or maybe about waking up nude and disoriented after—

  “Oh god!” I gasped, my eyes wide in horror as I looked over at him again. He only returned the same puzzled stare. But was it him? Was he the one that had drugged me the night before? Is that how he knew about the bear thing? Was it a side-effect from the drug?

  Without another word I covered my face and pushed myself from the bar, disturbed by how intently the rowdy men in the booth glared at me as they watched me leave.

  I burst out the door and back into the cool night air. The creep that had been watching me before was gone, and I was grateful to at least be rid of him. It took a minute for me to get my bearings, but soon I was hurrying down along the sidewalk, heading for home. Most of the street lights were broken, but the moon was large and bathed the night in a ghostly glow.

  I could smell them before I could see them. I had only gone a little way when the scent of the men from the booth behind me flared in my nostrils. I was surprised to find they quickly surrounded me, and I stopped in horror, waiting for them to come out from the dark crevices.

  “Are you alone and afraid?” a voice barked behind me. I spun around to see him, tall and strong, a maliciousness tainting his smile.

  “She could use some company,” another voice grunted. I didn’t bother turning to face him, but cringed in a surging terror as I heard them all gathering around me. There would be no easy escape; they had seen to that. The realization of my situation soon overwhelmed my earlier anguish, and my muscles began to tremble uncontrollably.

  “Leave me alone,” I squawked. I tried my best to sound threatening, but my voice cracked and warbled in despair as the terror rose. They stepped closer to me, some of them starting to giggle in wicked, sickening glee. The hopelessness poured through me; they weren’t going to leave me alive. I felt nauseous, and only hoped to vomit all over them as they—

  “Oh god, no!” I cried out in bitter helplessness. “Oh god, please don’t do this to me!” I knew my pleading was senseless, even humiliating to me. But it was all I had left, and that understanding was burning hot in my chest.

  I gave one of the men a pleading look, the tears dribbling over my cheeks. I pulled my arms tight around my body, waiting, hoping he would feel sorry for me.

  He smiled, his grin stretching tight over his face, which seemed somehow to protrude out at me, mocking me, as it—

  “Holy shit!” I squealed. His mouth and nose were stretching out into a snout, complete with drooling fangs, and his ears were lifting up into sharp points. I screamed at the horrifying hallucination of them, all of them, changing into monstrous wolves, standing upright on their hind legs.

  “Are you dirty dogs sure you want to piss around with her?”

  The gruff voice, the familiar and melodious in sound, rumbled through the still night air. It was Gage, and I swung around to see him walking across the street toward us. The wolf men stepped back a few paces.

  “Gage, help me!” I begged. I began sobbing, feeling pathetically weak. He gave me another oddly puzzled look, but strolled calmly up to stand beside me.

  “Gage,” the tallest wolf snarled. “This is none of your business. Scram!”

  “None of my business?” Gage scoffed in retort. “This is my girl you’re harassing. What if she were to break a claw ripping your face off, Todd? You don’t think that would put me into a bad mood?”

  “What the fuck?” I blurted out before I had a chance to stop and think.

  “You don’t think we can take you down?” Todd threatened. “There’re five of us, Gage.”

  Gage snickered and gave the others a humored but threatening glance. One of the wolves scurried back and crossed the street, waiting there and watching. The rest fell back only a few feet. Gage steadied his glare directly back on Todd.

  “I’m bored of talking now,” Gage said, his voice low and mean. “I think it’s time you try putting your teeth where your mouth is.”

  Todd shifted nervously, but gave a defiant laugh. “My teeth are where my mouth is, moron.”

  “I meant after I’m done with you,” Gage growled, his voice reverberating in deathly rage.

  Holding my breath I watched Todd. First he stepped away, and I heard the others scampering into the distance. With a sudden yelp Todd turned and ran into the night. I took a heaving breath of relief. I had the definite idea Gage was tough, and probably a fighter, but with five against one he wouldn’t stand much of a chance—especially if those five were part wolf.

  I felt light-headed and reached over, searching for Gage’s hand. My hand landed on his thigh, his muscle thick and hard beneath his jeans, and I turned to thank him for saving my life.

  I screamed—I think. There was a roaring in my ears, and I couldn’t hear much over it. As I turned around Gage towered over me, his eyes black and cruel, his face monstrous with his mouth snarling to reveal long piercing fangs. His shirt was ripped open to make room for a bulging chest and huge shoulders that dropped down into two massive flesh-ripping claws. The world went black, and I was falling.

  “Jo?” Gage’s voice cracked through the fog in my brain. “Jo, are you alright?”

  I opened my eyes and sighed with relief. The hallucination was over; it was Gage kneeling over me, cradling my limp body gently in his arms. They were real arms, not bear arms with killer claws. Just strong, loving arms wrapping warmly around me. His face was back to the rugged, stubbly cheeks and deep brown eyes, with tender lips that I could—

  “What happened to your shirt?” I asked, seeing the top buttons torn away to reveal a delicious hairy chest.

  He gave me a stunned glare. “You can’t tell me you don’t remember what just happened, Jo. My shirt tore when I shifted a bit to scare off the pack. You don’t remember that?”

  I put a shaking hand up to my throbbing head. “That really happened?” I moaned. “Wasn’t it all a delusion?”

  Gage laughed. “I’d say yes if it weren’t for what you are. Jo, I’m starting to think you don’t know about bears and wolves.”

  “Wolves eat babies,” I grumbled, “and bears do unspeakable things in the woods. Is there more to it than that?”

  He shook his head. “How can you not know? Didn’t your parents teach you about what you are?”

  I pushed myself up from the ground as Gage helped me onto my feet. “What’s this crap about what I am? I’m a girl, Gage—where’s the mystery in that?” I took a deep breath, looking nervously around. We were still in the bad neighborhood. “But I never knew my parents. They died when I was just a baby and I grew up in a strict, Christian orphanage. They told me I was a child of God and a piece of shit sinner, and that’s all they ever said about it.”

  “But—” he stopped and stood, staring in puzzled dismay. “You haven’t changed before?”

  I still felt woozy and leaned into him for support. “I’m sure I’m not who I once was, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Damn it Jo, you’re a freakin’ bear! How can you not know that?” There was frustration in his voice now.

  “What the hell do you mean, I’m a bear?”

  He shook his head and wrapped both arms around me. I swooned warmly with his sudden affections and held him tight.

  “What you saw tonight wasn’t some trick of your mind, Jo. Those men shifted into wolves, and I shifted into a bear. The thing is, you’re every bit as much of a bear as I am. I can’t believe you haven’t noticed before.”

  I looked up into his face. He was serious.

  “You mean those guys were werewolves?” I stammered. “And we’re, what—werebears?”

  He nodded. “So far, so good, yes.”

  Pushing away I gazed up at his face. “You’re serious? I don’t believe that crap.”

  “I could change again and p
rove it to you,” he offered.

  “No!” I snapped, jumping back. “I believe you, I do.” It took a minute for me to wrap my mind around what he was saying. “So, I’m not going crazy?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far, but what you’ve been seeing is real,” he said with a laugh. He took my hand in his and we started walking. “I’ll walk you home and tell you about it, okay?”

  “We turn into bears, those guys turned into wolves. Is there more?” I asked.

  He laughed again. “Not much, no. Just that wolves run in packs, and we don’t get along with them. They try to lie low most of the time, but they have nothing against killing. And they see us as competition. That’s why they were going to kill you tonight.”

  “Just because I’m a bear?” I gasped.