by Bianca D'Arc
“I can’t believe you called the shifter private eye!” Mellie was totally scandalized now.
Everyone in their magical circles was aware of the specialized services Hastings provided to the supernatural community, though he worked mostly for his own kind—shifters of all species. He, himself, was able to shift into some kind of bird of prey, or so the rumors went.
“Like I said, he wouldn’t take the case. Cagey fellow, for a bird shifter.” Nonna made a dismissive sound then cleared her throat. “But, for now, you get your mind back on business, young lady. Tell that bear to go home and let you do your work. No distractions.”
Nonna tried to sound stern, but Mellie heard the humor in her tone. Nonna was like that—a big softie, even when trying to be a disciplinarian.
“Tell her I’m going,” came Peter’s deep voice from just behind Mellie’s shoulder, making her jump. Mellie put the phone away from her ear, pressing it to her shoulder.
“Did you hear all of that?” She cringed, hoping he wouldn’t be offended by her grandmother’s nosiness.
Peter nodded. “Shifter hearing is pretty good, you know. And it’s all right. Collin called yesterday and told me a little old Italian lady from San Francisco had been asking about me. I wasn’t offended. It’s clear she is doing her best to protect you, even long-distance.” Peter’s eyes held laughter, not anger, for which Mellie was truly grateful.
“I’m so sorry.” Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
“Don’t be. She loves you.” He shrugged, smiling. “I’m leaving now. Lock the door behind me and tell your nonna I said hello.”
He paused slightly, dipping his head to kiss her on the forehead. Not exactly the goodnight kiss she was hoping for, but she’d take it. The gesture felt intimate. Special.
Then, he was gone, and Mellie was left with her grandmother on the phone for company.
Peter’s bear refused to settle. Those spectacular kisses with Mellie were even better than he’d imagined they’d be. Now that he’d had a taste of her, he wanted more. Much more. But there were still valid reasons why anything between them might be…inadvisable, at best.
For one thing, what would his grandmother say? Babushka was on her way here, though he wasn’t sure exactly when she would arrive. She was a very independent bear. If she wanted to take the scenic route from Mother Russia to the good ol’ USA, Peter could not gainsay her. At least, it wouldn’t be wise—or all that safe—to do so. Babushka was still a mighty bear, even if she was getting older.
He didn’t know how she was going to take the news that the only woman his bear had ever pushed him toward mating was a witch. Not just a witch, but an Italian strega, who came from a long line of powerful strega before her. Peter stopped short at his own thoughts as he walked down the Main Street of Grizzly Cove, heading for the stretch of woods that led to his cabin. Was he really thinking mate when it came to Mellie?
He tested that thought out. Rolled it around in his mind and savored it for a while…
Yep. He was definitely thinking mate. Wow.
Goddess help them both.
CHAPTER FOUR
With his inner bear still unable to settle after the revelations of the evening, Peter sought the solace of the woods around his den. He’d deliberately built his home into the side of the mountain that formed one edge of the cove. He’d dug his log cabin into the side of the hill, extending the construction back into the earth itself. The front of the house made it look like a small log cabin, but it was really rather large inside.
It was surrounded by pristine forest. There were even a few super tall redwood trees that stood silent sentinel on the land he had claimed as his own territory. He felt as if he had been given guardianship over a sacred place, and that the trees—many of which were much older than he was—were watching over his home and keeping their barky eye on him, so to speak.
He’d carefully chosen deadfall logs to build his home. He hadn’t taken the life of any living tree. It might seem odd to the other men, but it was a little quirk of Peter’s that the shaman seemed to understand. At least one bear didn’t think he was crazy for the way he’d chosen to build his place. Gus wasn’t exactly the run-of-the-mill bear shifter either, though.
No, he was a rare spirit bear. His cream-colored coat stood out in the dark forest as Peter roamed the perimeter of his territory in bear form. It was as if the spirit bear—his buddy Gus—was waiting for him.
Peter approached cautiously, and they walked in parallel for a while, stalking silently through the woods in harmony for the moment. Gus’s presence had a calming effect on Peter’s riled nerves. The spirit bear was a holy man. A shaman. A priest of sorts. He was good to be around, and Peter found himself wondering if Gus had somehow known that Peter needed his soothing influence that night.
Peter wouldn’t put it past his friend to know the unknowable—including Peter’s odd mood. Whether or not Gus would know what caused it was another matter. Mellie’s grandmother might be clairvoyant, but as far as Peter knew, his friend Gus didn’t lean that way. At least, he thought not.
Eventually, they worked their way around the perimeter of Peter’s territory and ended up back at the cabin. Peter shifted as he walked toward the front door, hoping Gus would follow. He needed someone he trusted to talk to, and Gus was just about the most trustworthy bear of Peter’s acquaintance. Of course, Peter would trust—and had trusted—each of the members of the old team with his life, but emotions were tricky. Talking about them was even harder for a guy like him. Talking with Gus was easier than talking to any of the other guys about stuff like that, though, because Gus had that whole mystical thing going on. The spirit bear was downright spooky.
Peter threw on the jeans he’d left behind when he’d gone furry and headed for the kitchen. He was always a little hungry after going bear. He looked through his refrigerator and pulled out a plate of venison steaks. Yeah, that would hit the spot.
“How many of these you want?” he asked Gus, who was dressed in a pair of sweatpants Peter had last seen lying on top of the stack of folded laundry he had yet to put away.
Peter didn’t mind. Clothing was shared freely after a shift because they were all trying to fly under the radar, posing as a human community. That meant clothing. Which wasn’t always readily available after a shift, but necessary in order to maintain the illusion of normalcy, so one took what one could find, and nobody complained. The custom was to return anything you borrowed, freshly laundered, in a reasonable amount of time. So far, the system was working well.
“Can you spare three? I skipped a meal or two today,” Gus said, taking a seat at the kitchen island on a high stool.
Peter had installed a full chef’s kitchen, complete with a grill right there in the cabin. He might be a hearty Russian bear, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed grilling outside in the winter.
“No problem,” Peter assured the other man. “There’s more where these came from.”
“Handy being the town butcher,” Gus agreed.
Peter kept busy over the next half hour or more, preparing the impromptu meal. They ate in companionable silence, concentrating on their hunger and their food for the first few minutes after the meal was served.
After the immediate hunger was sated, Peter felt much calmer than he had earlier in the day. Gus was a good friend. He knew when to talk and when to hold his counsel until Peter was ready to hear it.
“I believe I may have found my mate,” Peter said, surprising himself at his own candor.
He hadn’t meant to blurt anything out, much less the deepest thoughts in his mind, but Gus didn’t even blink. Instead, Gus chewed, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully on his fork, not looking directly at Peter.
“Matters of the heart can be very unsettling,” Gus said quietly. “More so when the mind is not in harmony with the soul.”
“You think I lack harmony?” Peter scoffed, though he sensed truth in the spirit bear’s words.
“Your mind is troubled
. You bear is confused. Why is that?” Finally, Gus looked at Peter, spearing him with his dark eyes.
Peter sighed heavily. “It’s Mellie.” Just saying her name made his heart leap, and his thoughts fill with the shadows of doubt.
“The strega?” Now Gus frowned. “I think I understand. To mate a woman of power can be a difficult path, but it is one worth pursuing if she truly is your mate.”
“My bear thinks she is, but there are many obstacles to overcome.” Peter felt the scowl on his own face but was powerless to calm his thoughts or his features.
“Are these true obstacles or problems of your own making?” Gus wanted to know.
“Can a witch of such power mate truly with one of us?” Peter wondered aloud.
“Just look at John and Urse,” Gus answered immediately. “If you have doubt, I can tell you from my perspective, theirs is a true mating that will last as long as they do.”
That was actually very reassuring. John and Urse seemed so perfect together, but they were still in the early part of their relationship…the honeymoon phase. If anyone would know whether or not the match was a true mating, it would be the spirit bear. True mates never parted and recognized each other quickly—at least among shifters. Peter wasn’t entirely sure how it worked when one half of the pair was a shifter, but the other was a powerful mage.
“What will our families make of each other? The Ricolettis may be welcoming toward a bear shifter, but I have doubts my babushka or my extended family will be as accepting of a strega.” Peter frowned harder. His family could be very stubborn, and although he didn’t see them as often as he once did, they were still close.
“Your grandmother is on her way here, isn’t she?” Gus asked.
Peter nodded. “She could be here any day now.”
“Then, I suppose you will have your answer soon. I have no doubt your granny will not mince words when she sees which way the wind is blowing. For now, I suggest you just go with the flow. Enjoy your time with Mellie and continue to explore your growing feelings. If she is the one for you, even your babushka cannot stand in your way, when it comes right down to it. Mating is sacred. If Mellie is your true mate, we will all accept the bond. And, if your family does not, then you know you have another family here among the bears of Grizzly Cove.”
Gus clapped Peter on the shoulder, and the two men shared a moment of silent acceptance. Gus was good like that. He made Peter remember the bonds of comradeship that bound him so tightly to the men he had worked with for so many years and now shared this social experiment of a town with. The men of their old unit, who had founded Grizzly Cove, were his brothers. If his blood family rejected his choices, he knew he would always find acceptance among his chosen family here in the cove.
*
Mellie didn’t really want an audience for her casting, but she needed input from the mer on the effect of the potion she and Peter had managed to brew the night before. For some reason, Peter had brought his friend Gus along, too. Mellie knew Gus was supposed to be some sort of shaman to the local Native American tribe that made its home just to the south of the cove, but Mellie hadn’t had much contact with the man and didn’t know him well. Still, if Peter valued his opinion, Mellie was willing to give the man the benefit of the doubt.
So, it was a strange little group that met down by the shoreline, just inside the mouth of the cove. They were at the point where Urse’s ward held creatures of evil at bay, unable to enter the waters of the cove itself. Mellie had chosen to try her potion from a position that would minimize her possible exposure. She’d have to get right down to the water to put her potion in while speaking the ritual words. The currents would carry the potion and its magic where they willed, hopefully casting a wider barrier that evil could not cross.
At least, that was the theory.
Mellie wasn’t really sure what would happen in practice. Possibly, nothing. Hopefully, something. Whatever happened, they’d at least know if Mellie was on the right track with this preparation. It had been so long, and she had so little to show for her efforts. This was the first time she’d actually had something worth trying, and she was going to make the most of this opportunity.
Accordingly, she’d asked for help from the mer. She wanted someone with magical sensing abilities in the water, able to report back to Mellie where her potion went and what effects it had. They were doing this at high noon, when the sun was brightest overhead so visibility would be at its zenith, as well. If all went well.
At least the sun was out today. So far, so good.
Mellie had chosen the point of the cove where a circle of young standing stones stood sentinel. When Peter had heard her intended destination, he’d immediately called his friend Gus. Mellie was vaguely aware that Gus was the caretaker of the sacred circle, and if the ring wasn’t on his land, per se, it was very, very close. She wasn’t sure, exactly.
Regardless, it was probably for that reason that Peter had wanted the resident bear around to watch the proceedings. Mellie didn’t mind. She already had a mer audience. Her request for help had netted her several mer helpers to watch along the barrier of Urse’s ward and report back their findings. She would’ve been happy with just one observer, but it looked like they’d given her a whole platoon.
Which would make this all that much more embarrassing if the potion fizzled as soon as it hit the water. Mellie sent a silent prayer up, hoping this wasn’t going to be a complete failure. She had already warned everyone that this was only a trial run. She’d explained that she was missing one key ingredient to her potion but had been able to brew a weaker version by making a substitution. She’d done all she could to not get everyone’s hopes up that her first attempt was going to be as big a success as her sister’s spell work.
Urse had created some pretty big shoes to fill. Her spells had been perfection from day one. She’d done a series of four spells on four successive days, each one building on the previous until she’d been able to ward the entire cove. It had been a master work. A feat Urse had never achieved before and might never do again in her entire life.
And it had set the bar really high for Mellie. Too high, perhaps, though Mellie would do her best to meet or exceed her sister’s work. Not for any competitive reason, but because the people of Grizzly Cove needed protection. They deserved the best Mellie could give, and then some. She wanted to do it for them. For her new home. For her new people.
She loved this town and had quickly decided it was home. She might’ve grown up in San Francisco, and heaven knew, she missed her nonna, who still lived there, but Grizzly Cove felt like the place she’s always been meant to be.
Mellie didn’t say anything to Gus or even Peter as she went about her business. It was enough that they were there, in the background, to witness whatever would happen with this potion. She hoped it would at least do something. It might not be the exact right formulation yet, but if this potion worked even just a little, it would be the first positive step forward she’d had since embarking on this quest.
Deciding to just concentrate on doing the best job she possibly could as she cast her spell via her potion, Mellie set to work. She sent up prayers to the Mother of All, sanctifying the space around her as she worked. She would launch the potion from just behind the barrier of the ward for safety reasons. There was no sense getting too close to the unprotected area of shore before she was certain her potion was going to really work. For this test, safety was the better part of valor.
Not that the evil creatures weren’t watching her every move. She could see the tentacles rising occasionally out of the water in a menacing display. She could feel the oppressive anger of their evil, as well, and it wasn’t a good feeling. Best to get on with her work.
When all was ready, she looked out to the water, seeing the head of the closest mermaid pop above the gentle waves. Mellie gave the prearranged thumbs-up signal that meant she was about to start her test. Then, Mellie looked back at Peter and Gus.
“Stand back.
I’m about to give this a whirl,” she warned them, not waiting for a response before turning back to her work.
Gathering herself and taking a deep breath, she grounded her energy and centered her focus. Then, with pure intent and a chant of prayer to the Goddess, Mellie walked slowly to the water and emptied the vial of her new potion into the lapping wavelets just at the shoreline.
When the vial was empty, Mellie retreated from the shore, walking backwards and keeping her eyes on the water. It wouldn’t do to give the enemy her back for even the shortest moment. Even if she thought she was safe behind the ward. Evil was canny. She had to be cautious.
The mermaid dove under the water, and Mellie tried to follow the progress of her potion out into the water. She thought she saw the moment when the first hints of the new magic crossed the barrier of Urse’s ward. The reaction of the closest of the leviathan’s minions let her know that something was causing them trouble. Mellie almost smiled, but she didn’t like to see any living creature in pain—even an evil one.
Still, if the creature would only retreat, the pain would cease. That’s what the potion was all about. It was meant to drive the evil creatures back, away from the shore. It wasn’t intended to kill them. According to Nonna and others, such things could not be killed in the mortal realm because they were creatures who were forever tied to the forgotten realm from which they had been conjured. The best that Mellie could hope for was to protect the shore and the waters a short distance out so that mortals and mer alike could go about the business of living in safety. It would be up to a different kind of magic than her own to banish the leviathan and its minions back to its native realm.