by V. Vaughn
“It’s okay. When I told him you were coming to tell me something, he told me what he suspected you wanted to reveal. He knows I’m part werebear because we’re true mates.”
“Oh no.” Her face clouds with concern. “Oh, honey. No.”
“Mom. It’s not a bad thing.”
“How can you say that? You’re telling me you’ve met the love of your life. I know what that means.” She strokes my cheek, and her finger is cool on my skin. Her voice is soft as she says, “It’s wonderful right now, but honey, eventually you’re going to have to give him up.”
“Is that what happened with you and Dad?”
She nods. “No other man will ever measure up. Believe me, I’ve tried.” She gets up and walks across the room to the kitchen. I get up too and watch as she stares out at the water. I notice she begins to clench her fists as if she’s trying to control her anger before she turns to me and says, “I should have tried harder to keep you from coming here. I never wanted you to suffer what I did.”
Tears glisten in my mother’s eyes, and it occurs to me that if she loved my father so much she couldn’t move on, they must have been true mates. My heart aches as if a strong hand is squeezing it, and tears burn in my eyes too as I imagine what she gave up. I ask, “Mom, you’re part werebear too?” The cold rush of shock for another reason washes over me as she nods, and I ask, “You mean grandpa isn’t your father?”
She shakes her head as she comes toward me. “He is in every way except biological. I don’t know if Val has explained it yet, but we can’t be with them. Your grandmother--” She sighs. “Your grandmother got involved with a werebear and got pregnant with me. In her day a baby out of wedlock was a big deal. Your grandfather did a noble thing.”
I listen to her, but hope blossoms in my heart like a tiny seed waking in the sun. “Oh my god!” Val said it was only recently they learned a half can become a werebear and part of the clan. Both my mother and I can change, and I’d get to keep her here. “Mom. You can be with my father if you want to.” I grab her arms. “We have to find him. True mate love doesn’t die.” The idea of my mother being with the love of her life makes me want to race down to Val and find my father for her.
Mom says, “Stop. While I know you’re allowed to date Val, this isn’t forever, Kelsey. Werebear aren’t able to marry humans for good reason.”
“But we can if you and I become werebear.”
“What? Is that what this guy is telling you?” My mother shakes her head. “Wow. I--”
“Stop.” I place my hands on her shoulders. “It’s true. Supposedly nobody ever knew it could happen, but just a couple years ago women in Maine were changed. Just think, you could be with your true mate.”
She frowns as she takes a moment to process my words. Pain flashes over her face before her expression turns to sadness. My hair tickles my neck when she smoothes locks back from my face. “I don’t know, honey. Are you sure you want to become a werebear?”
“To be with Val? Of course. Besides, I already am. Changing would just awaken my bear.”
She gazes into my eyes with motherly love I know will never die. “I don’t know if I like this. I need to understand more about how you can change.” Her voice changes to the disciplinarian. “If there’s any risk at all to your life, I forbid it.”
“I won’t die, Mom. Werebear bite each other to seal their bond. If Val bites me, I’ll change.”
“What?” Her eyes are wide, and she’s acting as if I told her I have to cut off a limb. My knee-jerk reaction is to remind her I’m not a child who doesn’t know any better, but I stop myself, because I think she needs time to get used to what I told her. And I think I know how I’m going to make her believe it. My phone is warm in my hand as I remove it from my back pocket, and I ask, “How does Canadian poutine right now sound?”
“Like I’m about to meet Val.” She crosses her arms. “He’s going to have to be very convincing if he thinks I’m going to let him bite my baby.”
I grin at her. “He will be.”
26
Nadia
I tried to convince myself Canada could be another fresh start. But I’m just a pawn in someone else’s game. Again. Isabelle confirmed Tristan had a plan for me that wasn’t about keeping me safe. It was about protecting his precious sister. Isabelle knows she needs me too, because she’s been nothing but nice since I arrived. Annie was right. She has changed. Isabelle learned to catch flies with honey instead of vinegar, and since I have no choice, I’m firmly stuck in her trap.
I glance out the window of Isabelle’s fancy SUV as she gives me a tour of the town on the way to my apartment. There are patches of snow on the ground, and a musty odor of rotting plant life filters in through the air vent. But I focus on the briny ocean scent that mixes in. The smell of home. I shake my head at my thought, because getting attached to this place is not a good idea.
Isabelle says, “I think you’re going to like your apartment. There’s a nice view of the water and a shared deck with the girl next door.”
“Werebear?”
“Yes. But a human lives on the top floor, so you’ll have to be careful.”
I’ve got that covered. Living in the midst of so many humans for the past few months trained me to keep my emotions in check. And the one time I slipped I learned why it was so important. As I think about the men who tried to kill me a low rumble forms in my chest. Isabelle glances over at me, and I think she wonders if I have a problem with humans. If I were feeling charitable, I’d ease her fears. I’m not.
When we pull into a building complex, Isabelle points out the various structures that make up the Ouellette Yachts’ boat-building business until we get to the place I’m going to call home. It’s an old house that appears to be well-maintained, with its gleaming-white paint and dark-green shutters. The Hummer doors slam shut when we close them, and we make our way across the asphalt toward the apartments. I only have two bags, and Isabelle carries one for me.
She leads me to a door on the other side of the building. I notice that woodlands are close, and I ask, “Can I run there?”
“Yes,” says Isabelle. “I can take you to show you the boundaries if you want.”
I shrug. My swim earlier satiated my bear, so I don’t need to run today. “I’ll figure it out.” We step into a comfortable space. There is a kitchen off to my left and a living room area with a TV, sofa, and big chair. The faint scent of lemon makes me think it was recently cleaned.
“Jean Luc told the girl next door you were moving in. Her name is Abby, and I bet she’d show you.” Isabelle leads me to the bedroom, where we find a king-sized bed. She says, “Jean Luc’s assistant, Meg, stocked your pantry with a few essentials and a couple meals to tide you over until you get a chance to go to the store. It’s only a mile away and a nice walk.”
I glance around my new bedroom, done in pale yellow and white. I suppose it’s not bad, and my bag thuds on the floor as I let it fall. I ask, “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”
“I’ll come get you at eight so we can go to the gym. Expect to be there all day. Any interest is being a trainer?”
I suppose my other option for a job is to check people in, and that sounds boring, so I say, “Sure.”
Isabelle sighs. “I know your life has sucked lately, but once you settle into a new routine I think you can be happy here.”
I gaze at her and offer a smile I don’t bother to make look real. “Thank you for taking me in.” I know it’s not Isabelle’s fault I’m here, so I add, “I won’t be any trouble. I just need time to adjust.”
She nods. “Thank you too. It’s nice having another polar bear here.”
Isabelle lets herself out, and drawers scrape open as I unpack clothes Annie purchased for me. Nostalgia floods me as I think about her. My eyes water as I recall how she was a source of comfort for me when Sven broke my heart, and I wish I had been able to stay near her. I blink my thoughts away, because I’m on my own here.
When I’m nearly done unpacking a knock sounds on my door, and I open to a girl with dark hair. She’s holding a bottle of wine and pushes her way in as she says, “I’m Abby, and thank god you’re a werebear.” She walks over to the kitchen, and silverware rattles as she yanks open a drawer. “Nadia, right?” I nod, and she asks, “Got dinner plans?”
I blink in surprise, but she’s got wine, so I say, “No.”
“Good.” She yanks on my fridge door and pulls out a casserole dish. “Meg’s mac and cheese is to die for.” It clatters on the counter and she says, “Three-fifty for forty-five minutes.” I chuckle at her order, but the fact she’s steamrolling her way into a friendship is fine by me. Especially when she hands me a glass of wine and says, “I’m going to fill you in on everything you need to know about this place.”
I take a sip of my drink, and tart flavor fills my mouth before I put the food in the oven.
Abby says, “I work in sales for Ouellette Yachts.” She leads us over to the living room and asks, “What’s your job going to be?”
I sink into the oversized chair since Abby took the couch. “I’m going to work with Isabelle at the gym.”
“Isabelle?” She grins. “She kicks ass, but you’re a polar bear like her, right?” I nod as she slips off her shoes and sits cross-legged and says, “You probably do too.”
“I hold my own.”
I notice Abby’s glass is already half empty as she leans forward. “I’ve been dying to tell this to someone. The girl on the top floor is human, and she’s hooking up with Val, the guy on the second floor.” She pauses for what I assume is dramatic affect as she leans back. “Werebear.” She sighs and takes another drink before she says, “That’s not going to end well at all.” She shudders. “I can’t imagine sleeping with a human.”
I stand up to get the wine to fill her glass. I don’t have strong feelings against human men and can recall a few I found attractive, so I ask, “Why?”
“Oh my god, I’m sorry.” She holds out her glass, and pale-yellow liquid gurgles in as I pour. “Have you been with one?”
“No. But I spent the last few months living almost exclusively with them. They’re an awful lot like us.”
She grimaces. “Maybe where you were, but around here they’re weak and pathetic. It’s a male werebear fantasy, though, to be with a human female. Whatever happened to the two girls at one time thing?” She chuckles.
I recall a discussion with Darin and Leif when I did a photo shoot with another girl. It’s most definitely still a thing, and I say, “It hasn’t gone away.” I roll my eyes. “Trust me.”
Abby gives me the rundown on the guys she knows who work at Jake’s gym, and then a few more who she thinks I should meet, as we eat dinner. I find out more about people I’ve never met than I should, but Abby’s stories are entertaining. When she finishes one about a guy named Lionel I ask, “How am I supposed to keep a straight face when I meet him?”
I take a sip of my wine and realize the glass is empty. Abby notices and says, “Hey, I’m just trying to keep you away from the creepers.” She stands up. “I’m going next door to get more wine, and you should check the freezer for Meg’s ice cream pie.”
When my new friend leaves I clear the table, and dishes clash in the sink when I set them down. I notice I’m a little drunk but realize I’m having a good time. I almost touch my face to be sure, but I’m smiling. Maybe living in Safe Harbor won’t be so bad after all.
27
Kelsey
When I called Val to say I’d like to introduce him to my mother he told me he’d start on the French fries and to come down when we were ready. I try not to dance around with excitement over the idea I can help my mother reconnect with her true mate as I wait for her to freshen up.
“Ready,” says Mom, and when I turn to her I notice she put on makeup. She may not like the idea Val wants to bite me, but I think she’s taking our relationship seriously if she wants to make a good impression. It occurs to me Val is as close to my mother’s age as he is mine, and I wonder if it will be strange for her too.
The plastic container that contains a sampling of my mother’s baked goods is slick in my hand when I grab it. She smiles at me as I say, “My mother taught me to bring gifts when invited over for dinner.”
Mom’s hand is light on my shoulder as she touches me and says, “Smart woman.”
When we get to Val’s he greets us both with a glass of wine. I hand him the desserts and say, “There’s more upstairs when you run out.”
He peeks inside and grins. “Sugar, my favorite drug.” He smiles at my mother. “Thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Brooks.”
“Call me Rachel. Thank you for inviting me down, it’s nice to meet my daughter’s true mate.”
Val has to be surprised, but he hides it well as he leads us to the porch, where he’s moved the kitchen table. He’s put blankets on two of the chairs, which I think is in case my mother and I get cold. I smile at his thoughtfulness. Val lifts his glass of wine from the table and says, “While some poutine requires beer, I think you’ll find my version goes better with merlot.”
“It’s lovely,” says Mom. Wood creaks as she leans against the railing to gaze out at the water. She sips her wine and lets out a sigh as she glances at Val. “The wine is delicious. Now tell me about your recipe.”
“It’s a family secret.” He winks at me. “Maybe someday soon I’ll be able to share it with you. I hope you like duck, because that’s what I use.”
I say, “It’s amazing, Mom. You’re going to love it.”
Val leaves us for a few minutes to get the food. I ask, “So? Do you like him?”
“He’s very charming, and... grown-up.”
I chuckle at her comment about his age. “You always told me I was too mature for boys my age.”
She swallows a mouthful of wine. “One of the drawbacks of growing up with all adults. You were treated like an adult most of the time.”
“So you like him?”
She smiles. “Yes. But more importantly, I can see how much you do.”
Val returns with a steaming plate of thick wedges of potato drenched in gravy with bits of meat. Mom says, “Goodness, those look sinful.”
The platter thumps on the table as we all sit to enjoy the food. I wait patiently as my mother tries one. She moans in pleasure and says, “These might be the best version of poutine I’ve ever had. Well done, Val.”
“Thank you.” He sips his wine and asks, “What do you ladies have planned for your time together?”
Mom says, “I hope to get a walk on the beach, and that’s about it. Kelsey and I can spend hours just talking.”
I’m dying a little on the inside as we chat about nothing. And when I can’t contain my excitement over the news my mother is a werebear any longer, I blurt out, “Mom is a werebear too.” Val’s eyes widen as I continue. “My father is a Ouellette, and he’s Mom’s true mate.” I bite into a fry and let the delicious potato-and-gravy flavor fill my senses.
Val sets his glass down and stares at my mother for a moment before he says, “That had to have been hard for you, Rachel.” He glances at me, and I melt in his gaze as he reaches over for my hand and says, “I can’t imagine giving Kelsey up.”
I think she doesn’t want to talk about it, because she says, “I hope you don’t mind, but I just might finish these off,” and she bites into a fry.
I’m not ready to drop the subject. “Mom, tell us who my father is. Maybe we can get you two back together.”
Mom shakes her head as she finishes chewing. She gives me her stern look. “No. That’s not fair to him and the family I’m sure he must have.”
I didn’t think about that, but I say, “Then tell Val his name so we can find out.”
Mom glares at me. “If you want to meet your dad, we can arrange it, but I won’t have you or Val approaching him before I do. This is something that’s between your father and me.”
Val squeezes my hand a
s if he’s trying to tell me to drop it. I think I’m causing my mother pain by dredging up the memory of my father, and I say, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, Mom.”
“It’s okay, honey. I’m not upset. I know you’re excited to play matchmaker, but this is more complicated than you realize.”
Complicated? I don’t think my mother told me everything. I suppose it does make sense my father wouldn’t remain single in a clan that values family and urges its members to procreate to keep the next generations coming. The memory of the boy in the gas station I stopped at the first day I arrived comes back to me, and my blood runs cold. The woman in the store said I look like a relative and was not happy I was staying. Could she be my father’s wife? That would mean the boy must be my half brother. An anger I don’t expect to feel begins to burn in me. I bet the woman thinks I’m her husband’s dirty secret. My mother says, “We’ll discuss this later, Kelsey.”
We sure will, because the idea my father moved on from his true mate makes my skin prickle. I reach over and touch my mother’s arm. The woman who is my best friend and the person who has always been my hero deserves much better. I say, “No rush. I’ve spent the last two decades with an amazing mother who never made me want a father. I can wait.”
My mom smiles at me as if she’s accepted my apology before she turns to Val and asks him about his family. She manages to get him to share funny stories about his brothers, and when Val offers to feed us dinner, we stay. Partway through our second bottle of wine Mom says, “Tell me about the halves who have been changed.”
Candlelight dances on the walls in the dimly lit area by the dinner table. I take in Val’s strong features that are magnified by the shadows as he says, “There’s a clan in Maine that was cursed, and it left all their females barren. Their medicine woman put out a call to bring in eligible women to bear children. They hoped the half women might produce kids who would change at puberty like the rest of us.”