“Who found you?” Armor asked.
“The Bor’ba Medvedi,” Christoff said, turning back to face the throne. “The Fighting Bears. Soldiers and spies trained from birth to fight for Mother Russia.”
While Starlight bobbed his head in understanding, the other werebears in the room exchanged baffled glances. The tiny bear tapped Armor’s leg. “May I?”
Armor nodded.
“Who did you serve under?” Starlight asked, seemingly unperturbed by Christoff’s change in demeanor. I, meanwhile, wasn’t sure how to feel. Part of me felt betrayed, but I wasn’t sure why; Christoff didn’t owe me his life story, and I certainly hadn’t given him mine. But it was there, all the same, lingering like a bad aftertaste.
A child’s abrupt laughter distracted me—Christoff’s son was tossing snow on Callie, who had fallen back with a moan, pretending to be mortally wounded. I frowned, realizing I was being silly, blaming Christoff for not being the consummate family man I’d taken him for; it didn’t change what he was willing to do to protect his family, or what I was willing to do to help him.
Still, I wish he’d have told me.
“So that’s why you left,” Starlight said, and I realized I’d missed a huge chunk of the conversation while dwelling on my mixed feelings.
“Yes. I saw an opportunity and took it,” Christoff replied.
Starlight glanced up at Armor. “You heard the man. What do you think?”
Armor propped up his enormous head with one paw, studying Christoff. “What is your request?” he finally asked.
Christoff cleared his throat. “I do not wish to part with my children, but I can see no other way. I would ask you to guard and protect my children while I go and search for their mother.”
“Your former comrades have her?” Armor asked.
Christoff dipped his head in acknowledgment.
Armor settled back against the throne, considering the situation and Christoff’s request. “We will protect your cubs,” Armor said, but then held up a single, viciously sharp claw. “But first I’d like to see you take on one of my bears. I believe you, but I have no desire to send a fellow bear to his death. If you aren’t up for it, I will insist you stay behind and let the human authorities look into her whereabouts. I have no interest in raising your children for you.”
“I’ll take him on,” Kenai called.
Claire punched his arm. “No one asked you.”
“I will do this,” Christoff said off-handedly, as if Armor had asked him to take out the trash.
“Good, now that we’ve settled that,” Starlight chimed in, “what can we help you with?” His grizzled, teddy bear face swung towards me.
“Who me?” I asked, for the second time. “I’m along for the ride with Bearnedict Arnold over here, that’s all,” I insisted, jerking a thumb towards Christoff, who grimaced at the reference.
Starlight grunted and slid off the dais, tottering over to me with the help of a small staff. He stopped a foot away and stared up at my face. “How does it feel to be so broken?” he asked, cheerily.
My eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”
“You know, you should pay attention to your dreams, every once in a while. And drink less.”
“Callie could always take her to AA!” Claire called, being obnoxious. Kenai cuffed her on the arm. She immediately cuffed him right back, then she nuzzled against his chest.
“I don’t have a drinkin’ problem, Paddington,” I replied, ignoring the bizarre couple and the likelihood of their relationship devolving to domestic abuse. “What d’ye know about me dreams?”
Starlight spun and wobbled back towards the throne. “Wrong question.”
Wrong question? What the fuck did that mean? I thought back to the numerous times I’d woken up over the last several weeks in a cold sweat, my heart pounding, my senses on fire. I ran a hand through my hair, before realizing Starlight was waiting for me to ask another question. The right one this time. I sighed. “Can ye help me?” I took a guess, biting down my Irish pride in hopes that he had something good to tell me. Some kind of answer.
Starlight tapped his staff against the ground. “Much better. And sure. It’ll take some time for us to prepare you, of course, to know we can trust you with our secrets, otherwise—”
“Can’t I just fight a werebear to prove meself, like Christoff?” I interrupted, half-jokingly.
Armor huffed. “I don’t think—”
“I mean, unless you t’ink there should be a different standard for men than for women,” I said, glaring at the Alpha and his wee sidekick.
Armor clearly looked uncomfortable, shuffling his big, hairy butt on the throne. He exchanged looks with Starlight, who seemed amused. Finally, Armor cleared his throat, the sound startlingly loud in the tiny hut coming from the mouth of a bear. “Well, I suppose that would be alright. Although, I should warn you, it can be dangerous—”
“I want Beckett,” I declared.
Even Starlight seemed surprised by that; his beady little eyes widened comically. Armor shook his shaggy head. “He’s still learning control. That wouldn’t be wise.”
“You pitted Beckett against Claire when she was newly turned,” Callie called out as she offered Christoff’s daughter a snowball to chuck at her squealing brother—obviously having followed our exchange much closer than she had let on. She pinned Armor with a judgmental glare. “What’s the difference?”
“Will you vouch for her safety, then, Callie Penrose?” Armor fired back, his tone clearly warning her not to overstep.
Callie and I exchanged looks. We hadn’t really discussed our abilities, but—over the course of the weekend—we’d seen each other in action; Callie with her angelic powers and preternatural reflexes, and me with my hand-to-hand fighting skills and violent, no-holds-barred tendencies. Still, she had to know feeding me to a werebear came with potential consequences, and I could see doubt warring across her face.
“Please,” I insisted, “I’ll do anythin’ to get a good night’s sleep. And I owe the bastard a dick punch,” I added, smirking.
Callie snickered. “I’ll vouch for her,” she said, finally, “but keep an eye on Beckett. We all know how far he’s willing to go when he goes up against a Freak.”
Oh, that tone was cold. So, so cold.
The werebears in attendance grudgingly accepted her comment, though I could see her choice of delivery didn’t sit well with most. The truth hurts, I guess. Starlight, of course, hardly seemed to have heard. Instead, he studied Callie, head tilted quizzically.
What an odd fucking bear.
“Very well, then,” Armor said. “Kenai, gather the bears.”
Chapter 22
One thing they neglect to tell you about fights between werebears: clothing is most definitely optional. While I’d been surprised to find out that the Kansas City bears’ Alaskan retreat doubled as the United States most low-key nudist commune, I honestly hadn’t expected that to apply to the fights as well. I mean, even male gladiators got to put on skimpy leather numbers to protect their junk from flying all over the place. Naturally, Christoff hadn’t even batted an eye at the custom; he took his clothes off one article at a time, folding each neatly in a pile on a nearby rock. I, meanwhile, waived the honor of getting naked in front of a bunch of strangers—the Alaskan wilderness sure as shit wasn’t my kind of strip club.
Besides, even if it were, they couldn’t afford me.
“You sure?” Kenai asked me, winking at my apparent prudishness.
“I’m pretty sure Claire will kill ye, ye know, if ye keep that shit up,” I replied, glaring.
Kenai laughed and began untying the laces of his boots. “She’s cute when she’s jealous. But she knows I don’t mean anything by it. So, your friend, the Russian spy…” Kenai said, jerking his head towards Christoff, who stood naked on the other side of the makeshift arena, hemmed in by a horde of freshly transformed werebears. “He any good?”
Frankly, I had no idea. I knew Chri
stoff had put down a bridge troll, but I’d been too busy climbing out of the ruin that was my car to watch it all go down play-by-play. Still, no matter how badly I felt like lashing out at Christoff for lying to me, I wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to mess with Kenai’s head. “He’s old,” I said, finally. “He’s got kids. And he runs a bar. And his old friends just took his wife…” I shrugged and left the rest to Kenai’s imagination, although I had to admit, Christoff didn’t look like your average bar owner; he looked like a fighter, his muscles taut and firm, with silvered scars dancing across his body. He looked dangerous, and Armor had given him a lot to fight for. “Good luck,” I said, patting Kenai’s shoulder before walking backwards to see his reaction as I headed towards Callie and Claire. “Ye may need it.”
Kenai frowned, but continued getting undressed until he stood in all his nude glory.
Basically, a man-sized Brillo pad made of hair and muscle. He strutted to his side of the clearing and bellowed, joined quickly by many of the bears in attendance. I nudged Claire and pointed. “I see what ye see in him,” I quipped, earning a fierce scowl. Callie chuckled, and I was about to join in before I noticed Beckett sitting on a rock by himself, far removed from the crowd. Callie tracked my gaze and then pointedly turned back towards the fight.
“He’s good, you know,” Callie said, sounding as if she was gritting her teeth to admit it. “Beckett came here as a human and fought Claire to a standstill.”
Claire crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. “He cheated.”
“Cheated?” I asked.
“He stripped down before they fought. Claire got…distracted.” Callie tried her best to keep a straight face, but I could tell she was struggling.
Claire muttered something under her breath that I couldn’t make out. I frowned, realizing the kids weren’t in sight. “What happened to the wee ones?” I asked.
“Armor had one of our mother bears take them to a cabin. She’ll keep them entertained,” Claire explained. “We thought it would be best if they didn’t see their dad fighting.”
“Ah,” I said, “makes sense.” I didn’t bother mentioning that they’d seen their father disembowel a man a few hours before; if the KC bears wanted to be conscientious, more power to them.
“Bears!” Armor called out, emerging from the hut we’d left behind, Starlight marching behind him. The Alpha’s wide shoulders brushed past his fellow bears, and soon he stood at the front of the crowd. “Today, a stranger strives to become known to us. Christoff, of the Russian Fighting Bears, will take on Kenai, of the Kansas City Bears. Let it begin.”
Kenai sprung forward and, with a stupendous roar, exploded into his bear form. A grizzly weighing in around a metric ton. He shuffled forward on all fours, angling his body sideways towards Christoff like a cat prepared to strike. Christoff never even blinked; he simply stood in human form, waiting for Kenai to come closer.
“What’s he doing?” Claire asked. “He’s not planning on taking Kenai without shifting, is he?”
Callie shook her head, unsure.
I tried my best to act like I knew what Christoff was about to do, planting a smug smile on my face for all to see. Inwardly, I cringed. If Christoff ended up losing here, there was nothing he could do but stay behind with his kids. Callie was our ride, after all, and I doubted she would defy Armor’s ruling. Which would leave me to hunt down Christoff’s wife.
Maybe the Sickos would help me…
If they were still alive.
Kenai bellowed once more, drawing my attention back to the fight. As close as he was to Christoff, the roar actually ruffled the old bartender’s hair. Kenai pushed off the ground to stand on his two hind legs, his shadow falling over Christoff, and raised a meaty paw. When the man still didn’t move, Kenai brought it crashing down, throwing the full weight of his body into the swipe…and was stopped short.
Christoff, naked as the day he was born, held Kenai’s paw between two of his own—his arms abnormally, disproportionately large and covered in mounds of dark brown fur. The older man snarled, turned his body, and pushed off from a deep squat, tossing Kenai to the side. By the time Kenai rolled and came up on all fours, Christoff’s arms had returned to normal. I briefly wondered why Christoff hadn’t gone after his opponent, but then I noticed the stunned reaction from the crowd of bears.
“He can partially shift?” Claire whispered, her eyes wide. She spun and grabbed me by my jacket. “Did you know he could do that?”
I eyed Claire’s dainty hands, wondering how she’d get by in life once I sliced them off at the wrist. Fortunately, Callie cut in before I had time to react, nudging Claire with her hip. “Let her go, Claire. Quinn’s touchy about her personal space. And Kenai signed up for this.”
Claire glared at me, but finally let go. I readjusted my jacket and, after a moment’s hesitation, decided to answer Claire’s question. I could tell she was simply frightened and lashing out, even if she didn’t want to admit it. I wouldn’t hold that against her…well, not for long, anyway. “He’s always been able to do that. But he’s the only werebear I’ve ever met, so I didn’t know it was rare,” I admitted.
“I’ve never seen any of the bears do it until I came to rescue you two and I saw his paw,” Callie admitted.
“You knew?” Claire demanded, ringing her hands nervously.
“Suspected. I know two werewolves who can pull it off,” Callie said, thoughtfully, “but it never occurred to me to ask if the bears knew how.”
“It’s a lost ability,” Claire said, watching as Kenai circled the older man, clearly warier now than he had been. “Bears rarely come together the way we have, but some of the older members claim to have known werebears who could do it. Their ancestors, mostly. But even then…” she drifted off.
I nodded in understanding; by showing off his ability in front of the Cave, Christoff had proven there was truth behind the legend—a werebear who could shift parts of himself at will. The question was, how much of an edge did that provide?
And did that make him Legend-Beary?
Christoff, seemingly tired of being on the defensive, answered that question in record time. He ran at Kenai, who backed up and rose on his hind legs, instinctually. Kenai swiped a paw at the man, but Christoff was faster; he ducked beneath the paw and stepped in close. In an instant, Christoff grew, his thick, muscular legs giving way to the hind end of a Kamchatka brown bear—a breed of Russian bear found in Siberia, said to be the ancestors of the Kodiak. The rest of his body shifted in a lightning-fast wave—faster than Kenai could react—that rippled upwards until his entire body was covered in fur.
Of course, some of that fur was Kenai; for a brief moment, the massive grizzly lay across Christoff’s shoulders, implausibly held aloft, his paws hanging a few feet off the ground as Christoff spun in a slow circle. Then Christoff tucked one shoulder and tossed the grizzly to the snow where he landed with a sickening crunch. Kenai raised his head for just a moment, roaring in pain, then let it fall back into the snow. I wasn’t sure what, exactly, but I was pretty certain he’d broken something.
No bear was meant to be thrown like that.
“Enough!” Armor roared. I could tell even the Alpha was shaken by Christoff’s werebear form; from where I stood, I couldn’t tell which of them was taller, or larger. If the two clashed, it would be like watching titans go at it. Fortunately, Christoff didn’t seem the least bit interested in asserting dominance over Kansas City’s Bear Lord. The older man shifted back to his human form in an instant, not even winded, although I could see a sheen of sweat on his brow.
“Will you keep my children safe, as promised?” Christoff called out, not-so-subtly making sure his deal with Armor was known to the rest of the Cave.
Armor nodded. “Until you return to claim them,” he said, staring down at Kenai, “which I have little doubt you’ll manage.” The Alpha scanned the crowd, then waved. “Claire! Come and see to Kenai!”
Claire rushed forward, sliding in
next to the grizzly.
“She used to be a veterinarian. One of the best,” Callie explained. “She’ll make sure he’s alright.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, but Callie caught my expression.
“What is it?”
I shook my head. “Just wonderin’ who me friends really are, that’s all,” I said, staring at Christoff as he retrieved his clothes.
“I know what you mean,” Callie said, watching as Beckett approached, the chip on his shoulder practically visible.
Oh, right.
Guess that made it my turn.
Chapter 23
Beckett kept his clothes on, which I was almost upset about. Unlike Kenai, who’d been nearly as furry naked as he was as a bear, Beckett struck me as the manscaping type; I was willing to bet there was a six pack under all that hostility.
He and I waited for Claire to help Kenai back to his feet before stepping forward; the big bastard had likely broken a few ribs, and seemed to be favoring one leg, but he managed to wink at me as he passed—earning another solid blow from Claire—so he couldn’t be hurting too much.
I realized the crowd seemed less interested in our bout, for some reason. Many of the bears pointedly looked away. Maybe the novelty of a human facing a bear had diminished after witnessing Christoff’s little show? Beckett noticed as well, the skin around his eyes tightening in anger, but said nothing. Starlight appeared at my side as if by magic, slipping in under the forepaws of a nearby bear as he gnawed on a small branch. He glanced up at me, then at Beckett.
“Some of our bears were targeted when the Templars came to town,” Starlight said. “The Templars were the ones who recruited Beckett. Freak hunters. An old religion.” He licked the tip of the pine branch and grimaced, tossing it aside. “Sap,” he explained as he pawed at his tongue to remove the sticky residue. “Anyway, he hasn’t received a warm welcome. And he refuses to shift. That’s mostly why Armor didn’t want you fighting him.”
Old Fashioned_A Temple Verse Series Page 14