by Kit Tunstall
As she edged around the crowd, she had the sensation of eyes on her. With a frown, she looked around, before looking up, as though her gaze had been drawn that way like by a magnet. She was disconcerted to see another tier above them, and the setup was certainly more elegant than the main audience floor. There were only two people sitting in the box, with guards flanking them from behind, and she guessed they must be the fight organizers. Rage swept through her, but the daunting sight of four guards behind the men kept her from doing anything rash, like confronting them.
She quickly realized the one watching her was the younger one. He was probably in his late-thirties, and he had dirty blond hair cropped close to his head, along with a sparse beard that would have looked better if he’d shaved it all off. She couldn’t tell his eye color from here, but his gaze was certainly locked on her. She almost shuddered when he sent her a flirtatious smile and waved a hand in her direction. Feigning shyness, she dipped her head and looked away, intent on escaping the structure as quickly as possible.
When she stepped outside, the cool breeze from the Strait of Juan de Fuca tickled her hair and caressed her face, the sharp tang of salt in the sea air helping restore her calm and soothe her nausea. Her mind tried to imagine what was happening in the ring below, but she shut down that thought as soon as it could form. She didn’t really want to know.
She was aware of the guards watching her, so she stayed in their sight without looking at them as she waited for the fight to end. Less than thirty minutes later, the crowd started spilling out, all heading back to the boat. She mingled with them, not breaking away until she was far enough from the structure to feel like the guards wouldn’t immediately see her do so.
It was a dark night, with only a fingernail moon to guide her, but that worked in her favor, even though it slowed her down. Between the lack of moonlight and her dark clothing, she blended in pretty well, she hoped. To be on the safe side, she tightened her hoodie around her head, not wanting any of her blonde hair to escape and be visible in the darkness.
She knew she’d have to hurry, because the last thing she wanted was to miss the boat and be stuck on this island for two days, when the next fights occurred. Still, she couldn’t leave without knowing the living conditions of the bears, and perhaps finding out how they had fared physically after the fight.
She assumed there were more than two bears being held in captivity, and she briefly entertained the idea of sneaking into their enclosure and freeing them all, and then allowing the bears to run free. Ultimately, she discarded the plan. It wasn’t because she was worried about innocent people getting hurt. There was no one innocent on the island except for the bears and herself. She was here for a noble purpose, not to see two suffering animals rip each other to shreds and win money on the outcome. She also wasn’t eager to be torn apart by the bears, and she couldn’t imagine a scenario where she could free them and get clear of their path in time to avoid becoming a casualty.
The island was bigger than she had thought upon approaching from the boat, and as she moved past the fighting structure in a wide arc, her eyes widened at the sight of a huge mansion a few hundred yards ahead of her. It was well-lit, at least enough to allow her to see the details. The large, off-white structure dominated the area around it, and though she didn’t know architecture styles very well, the entire building reminded her of a hacienda one might see in Texas, as a holdover from pre-Civil War days, or in Central and South America. It was an incongruous sight on an island near Seattle, but she didn’t have time to indulge her curiosity.
She certainly wasn’t approaching the house anyway. It was clearly a private residence and likely belonged to the two horrible people she had seen in the private box, the architects of the suffering of the bears on this island.
With that reminder, she turned away from the huge house and moved deeper into the island. She could feel the seconds ticking past in a desperate rhythm, certain she was running out of time to make it back to the boat. Even knowing that, she couldn’t force herself to turn around and head back that way. Not yet.
She heard the bear enclosure before she saw it. She could hear the moans of anguish, and the occasional growling sound. She was startled by how human the bears sounded, which made her even angrier that they were being exploited this way. They were sensitive, intelligent creatures, and to know they were being forced to fight each other for sick people’s amusement sent rage spiraling through her.
She took several deep breaths in an attempt to keep it in check as she eased closer to the enclosure. She was just in time to see the man who had given her a flirtatious grin step into sight. She counted at least five cages holding bears, though only two were occupied at the moment. She immediately recognized the big gray-black bear from the fight, along with his slightly smaller companion, who was a golden-brown color. They both laid in their cages, looking exhausted and defeated again.
In shock, she watched as the man wielded a rifle similar to the one the guard had used to shoot the bears at the beginning of the fight. She was still trying to process why they would need to do that, assuming it was some sort of tranquilizer, as the bears seemed to melt in front of her. She let out a small gasp before clapping a hand over her mouth to keep in further unwanted sounds, trying to figure out what she was seeing.
Her thumb automatically hit the record button on the remote even as her mind struggled to process the transformation of bears to human men. She shook her head, disbelief coursing through her. She certainly couldn’t have seen what she thought she had. Could she?
But how could she doubt the evidence before her? The bears were gone, replaced by two lethargic men who lay in their cages. The closest one to her had a perfect physique, with thick muscles, a lean waist, and clearly defined abdominal muscles. He was rough, smeared with blood and covered with dirt, and his black hair was overgrown and shaggy, but in the lighting provided by the lamps overhead, secured to posts, she saw it was still a thick mass of ebony. When he was cleaned up, his hair no doubt shone with a hint of blue in the black. Right now, it was matted and filthy, and there was no shine anywhere.
Pity swept through her, and though she wasn’t certain what was happening, she still couldn’t stand by and watch it. She was considering moving forward and knocking out the guy with the gun somehow so she could free the humans when a hand fell on her shoulder. She froze, letting out a small cry of dismay as she turned to look up at the guard who had taken her bet. She tried to force a shaky smile, but she was certain all she did was grimace at him as fear and anger warred for supremacy.
“Move,” he said in more of a grunt than a word. His hand remained clamped on her shoulder as he shoved her forward, her petite, curvy frame no match for his larger, harder body.
Fear consumed her, and it was difficult to breathe, so she forced herself to focus on doing so, slightly controlling her anger and terror by slowing down her breathing.
Her breathing exercises did little to keep her calm when the security guard pushed her into the other man’s line-of-sight. Her stomach clenched with dread when she saw the male interest in his eyes, indicating he wanted her. That was the last thing she wanted, but she struggled to hide her revulsion at his flirtatious smirk.
“What’s this?” he asked the guard, though he didn’t look away from her.
“She was snooping over there in the shadows, and you know Señor Calderon’s rule. If they see something, the gamblers don’t leave the island.”
A chill ran through her at the words, though she was unsurprised by that rule. Common sense dictated it would have to exist, because he wouldn’t want word of his illegal bear-fighting enterprise to leak out.
A quick glance at the two men in the cages reminded her there was something far more sinister at work here than simply forcing two bears to fight each other. That was bad enough, but she couldn’t fathom the depths of depravity occurring on this island.
“What are you doing snooping out here, young lady?” The man with the rifl
e asked the question sternly, but there was disquieting hunger in his gaze as it slipped over her, taking in her appearance from head to toe. “Were you looking for me?”
Briefly, she considered playing into that notion, but realized it could quickly escalate out of control. She had a feeling flirting with this man would be even worse than admitting the full truth of why she was here. The slightest sign of encouragement on her part would probably set in motion a series of events she couldn’t and didn’t want to face. Instead, she cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I was just curious about the bears. I wanted to know what happened to them after the fight.”
He was still leering at her, but the hint of wariness had faded. “You seem like a tender little thing, having to leave the fight at the midway point.” His brown eyes narrowed slightly. “Which begs the question why you’d come somewhere like this to start with?”
“I was curious.” It was a lame excuse, but she hoped he’d buy it. He seemed to want to, so she forced herself to give him a smile while she fluttered her eyelashes at him. “It’s one of my biggest flaws. I just want to know everything.”
“How did you end up on our island?”
The guard behind her spoke up for the first time since he’d explained why he brought her to the other man. “James McCoy referred her.”
The man grimaced. “I hope you aren’t as unreliable as your friend. He still owes Señor Calderon quite a bundle.”
She shook her head, quickly realizing just why James had brought the bear-fighting ring to Hand & Paw’s attention. It had nothing to do with concern for the bears’ welfare. He was simply hoping they would gather enough intel to interest the authorities and spur them to act. He probably thought their group would be the catalyst to bring down the people on this island, thereby negating his debt. She had previously admired him for speaking up about the problem, and she had believed him when he’d said he had stumbled onto the situation while going with a friend to what he thought was going to be a regular underground fight between two willing participants. Now, she quickly lost any hint of admiration for the other man. “He’s not a friend. He’s someone I met once or twice, that’s all.”
“So he isn’t your boyfriend?” asked the other man.
She was disturbed by the gleam of interest, and she quickly shook her head. She didn’t want to dwell on anything that reminded guy of dating or sex. “Who are you?” she asked, trying to change the subject quickly.
“I’m Dr. Elgin Stone, but I think that question belongs to me. Who are you?”
“Maya Cole—” she broke off quickly, realizing she shouldn’t give him her real name. Too bad she hadn’t had that epiphany before she started speaking hers out of habit. At least she hadn’t given him her full last name, though it would be easily discovered if they bothered to investigate her. She had left her identity behind at the university, but she had her phone on her, so she doubted they’d have much trouble figuring out who she was if they took her things.
“Maya, I’m afraid this may be a situation where curiosity killed the cat.” He sounded regretful, even as he leered at her breasts, though he clearly couldn’t have seen much of anything through the oversized hoodie.
She gulped, trying to clear the lump in her throat. “You’re going to kill me?” She tried to go for a disbelieving, almost girlish tone, but she was certain it fell flat. She just couldn’t seem to force herself to flirt with the creepy man in front of her, especially when he was talking about murdering her.
He shook his head. “That isn’t my call, sweetheart. If it were, I’m certain we could find other uses for you. That’s up to Señor Calderon though. He owns the island, and he’s the one who makes the final decisions on what to do with people like you.”
She arched a brow. “People like me?” she repeated, her lips numb as the implications of being discovered started to sink in. Up until that point, she’d been optimistic she could talk her way out of this, simply by building on the attraction the doctor had for her. Knowing there was another person entering the equation had robbed her of any confidence. Her gaze started around, and she saw the man in the cage behind Stone.
He looked bewildered and was clearly drugged, but when their gazes met, his eyes widened, and his nostrils flared. He jerked upright for just a moment, growling something incomprehensible, though he was in his human form. Those words reverberated inside her skull, sounding too fantastical to believe. Even though she had seen the transition with her own eyes, she was still half-hoping for a different explanation, one that was reasonable and didn’t involve the reality of a bear turning into a human.
“Take her to Señor Calderon,” said the doctor, his regret visible.
Her fearful gaze hadn’t moved from the human’s, and he growled again, clearly making an effort to get to his feet. She had the strangest certainty he was trying to intercede to save her, but the poor man was clearly in no condition to do so. Whatever they had pumped into him had left him incapacitated and drugged. Pity swelled in her, but she forced it back. It was a nonproductive emotion, and if she was going to pity anyone, she should probably pity herself. Her odds of outliving the man in the cage behind her seemed fairly grim.
Chapter Two
Maya didn’t try to fight the security goon or Stone, figuring there was no point in doing so. She was truly at their mercy, at least until she saw an opening to escape, if one presented itself. As she walked in front of the guard with Stone on her right, she looked at him. “Why are they so drugged?”
His eyes gleamed with excitement, and also a touch of confusion. “I’m still experimenting with the proper amount of inhibitor, and it makes all our lives easier if they’re kept on the docile side when they’re being prepped for and recovering from a fight.”
She shuddered slightly, the casually spoken words making her ill. “What do you do to prepare them for the fight?”
He hesitated, looking torn. “I probably shouldn’t tell you.”
Trying to be pragmatic, while digging for information, she said, “Who am I going to tell? I doubt this Señor Calderon will let me off the island.” Her heart sank when he nodded, though she hadn’t exactly been hoping for confirmation. It was obvious the doctor wanted to talk about his experiments, so he allowed himself to be indiscreet, to her gain. “When I first began the experiment, I had to isolate the gene responsible for their shifting ability. Once I had that, which took several months of research, I had to figure out a chemical stimulator that would force the shifter to transform. It’s the same chemical, and it can be used as a stop or start agent.”
She nodded, thinking she was understanding. “So you found a way to turn off and on their shifter gene?”
He shook his head, looking impatient. “Not at all. It’s always on. It’s part of their genetic code. I just found a way to control the shift, which is normally at the shifter’s discretion. Señor Calderon’s venture here wouldn’t work unless we could control when they shifted.”
She gritted her teeth, trying not to argue with him, because she genuinely wanted to know everything she could about the setup on the off chance she could escape and bring help to the island. Not that she thought the authorities would believe her if she told them a group of bad people were keeping another group of humans, who could shift into bears, as prisoners. That was sure to go over well, and maybe they’d listen right after her psych evaluation. “Okay, I think I understand that process, but why are they so drugged now?”
He looked pleased that she had grasped what he was telling her. “Just forcing them to transform wasn’t enough, you see. From what I can tell, they still retain their full intellect and range of emotion during transformation. We could force them to transform, but we couldn’t make them fight.”
He sighed, sounding disgusted with the lot of them, as though they had personally colluded to thwart him. “Fortunately, we got around that by developing an aggression stimulator. It ramps up their adrenals and their anger to the point where they can’t avoid fighting. Pure
instinct takes over. It would happen to real humans too. Give him or her a dose of the stimulant, and they’d be crazier than someone on PCP, and stronger too. Not because the stimulator makes you stronger, but it dulls your sense of pain, so you don’t feel your muscles tearing until later, for example.”
She exhaled raggedly, her concern and pity for the people in the cages increasing even more. “So you took away their ability to choose when to shift, and then you took away their ability to choose not to fight. I can see why you have to keep them drugged all the time. They’d probably rip you apart if they got the chance.”
He blinked, looking as though he had never considered that idea before. Then he shrugged. “I suppose, but I’m not worried. We have excellent security here on the island. We don’t keep them drugged to keep them docile, at least not completely. After a fight, their aggression levels are still ramped up, so we have to administer an inhibitor as soon as possible to return them to a more relaxed state. Unfortunately, I’m still trying to calculate the right amount to stop the aggression in the shifter form without decimating the human side and leaving the subject exhausted and insensate for hours after the inhibitor is administered.”
“People,” she said through gritted teeth.
He blinked. “People, what?”
It was difficult not to stop and slap him, but she somehow reined in the impulse. “You called them subjects, and I was just reminding you they’re people.”
He chuckled, sounding indulgent when he replied. “They’re sort of people, so fascinating, and there’s much I can learn from them, but they aren’t really humans. I’d prefer to keep this purely scientific for the experiments, but every scientist needs funding. Señor Calderon’s comes with a few stipulations that I might not like, but I’ll do what I must for the research.”
She rolled her eyes, not bothering to argue with the arrogant jerk. He was never going to see the people in the cages as his equals, though in her opinion, they were likely superior. She hadn’t yet really interacted with any of them, but they had to be forced to fight one another.