by Lynn Hagen
“Out of these mountains,” Bailey said as he flushed the toilet and pushed to wobbly legs. There wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to help him forget what he’d seen last night.
Walker headed out of the bathroom, leaving Bailey to brush his teeth and rinse. He’d asked Walker last night what that thing was, but Walker had refused to tell him. He’d simply said it was a threat that had been eliminated.
Bailey was still trying to come to terms with the fact he’d seen Walker change into a bear. But as crazy as things had been last night, and as scared at Bailey had been, all he’d noticed when Walker changed back was Walker’s sexy, nude body.
The high altitude was shorting out the circuits in his brain.
Moving slowly into the bedroom, his stomach still unstable, Bailey looked out one of the windows. He saw the disturbed snow, but the body was gone, and there wasn’t even any blood to prove to him that what he’d seen had been real. How could a person—if it had been a person, and that was still debatable—be torn to shreds without a gallon of blood painting the snow?
Bailey dug through the clothes Trigger had brought from his house and dressed in a pair of jeans and a green Henley. Bailey decided against shoes for now. Instead, he curled into one of the chaises in the bedroom and nibbled on the crackers as he called Corky.
“It’s too early,” Corky whined.
“It’s noon,” Bailey grunted. He must’ve been exhausted because Bailey never slept that late. “Why are you still in bed?”
“Me and Abe stayed up ’til two in the morning playing my zombie game. I’ll call you back when I’m awake.” He hung up.
Bailey set his phone aside and grabbed his cup of tea. He took small sips as he stared at the woods, as if another one of those things would jump out at any second.
He didn’t stay seated long. The smell of bacon and freshly baked biscuits made his stomach rumbled. He set his cup down and got to his feet, still a bit shaky from getting sick.
The room faced west, so the morning light wasn’t direct as it filtered into the kitchen with a soft glow, which Bailey liked. But it dimmed as the clouds rolled in. It looked as though a storm was coming.
So much for taking off and working my way down the mountains.
As he sat at the island, Bailey stared into a bowl with white, grainy something inside. “What’s that?”
Walker looked over his shoulder. He was standing at the stove, using tongs to remove bacon from the pan. His ass looked scrumptious in his pajama pants. Bailey wanted to go to him, drop to his knees, and lick Walker’s backside. Instead, he stayed seated.
“You’ve never heard of grits?” Walker asked.
Bailey hadn’t been able to afford anything fancier than cereal, and growing up, he was lucky to get one meal a day, and it usually wasn’t breakfast.
“I’ve heard of them,” he admitted. “But I’ve never seen them before.”
He wasn’t sure he wanted to try them, though. They looked…weird. A yellow pool of butter was also sitting in the center. Not that Bailey was a huge health nut, because healthy food cost too much and he really liked his junk food, but even he knew that butter was unhealthy.
But his appetite roared to life. As if knowing how famished he was, Walker set a plate in front of him stacked with waffles, bacon, and eggs. He added some grits to a smaller bowl, stirred in a tablespoon of sugar, and set it next to Bailey’s plate.
“Why does food that’s bad for you taste so good?” Bailey shoveled a forkful of waffles into his mouth. They had to be the best he’d ever tasted. The bacon had been cooked to perfection—not too crispy. His eggs were over medium, the yokes still runny, but the white cooked through.
Just the way he liked them. Even the grits were amazing.
“Don’t know, Shorty.” Walker took a seat next to him. Bailey felt like a shrimp next to the guy, but secretly admitted that he liked how close Walker was to him. “I don’t really worry about cholesterol or diabetes. My body heals itself when I’m in my bear form.”
Bailey picked up his butter knife. “So I can stab you and you can just change into your bear and heal?”
Walker scowled. “Yeah, though I’d be pissed that you stabbed me.”
“Dude, it’s a butter knife. It won’t even break skin.” He set the knife down. “What if I shot you?”
“What if you ate your breakfast in silence?” Walker sipped at his coffee and Bailey looked at his glass of juice.
“Where’s my coffee?”
“You shouldn’t have caffeine when you’re pregnant. It’s not good for the baby.”
Bailey’s fork clattered when it fell from his hand. “I’m not pregnant.” His protest had come out in a pleading whisper. He wouldn’t call Walker a liar about the whole male pregnancy thing since his world was too damn whacky to begin with, but…no, he didn’t want to think that Walker was telling the truth—even though they’d argued about it last night and Bailey had flipped the hell out.
He just didn’t want to believe it was possible.
“You’re no longer supernaturally horny, and the conception line has appeared.” Walker turned sideways and lifted the hem of Bailey’s shirt. “See?”
When Bailey looked down, his brows shot up. A faint line ran from his navel to beneath the waistband of his pants. It hadn’t been there before. He would’ve noticed it.
He started to push his plate away, but his appetite hadn’t diminished. His stomach rumbled as if he hadn’t eaten in a year. He picked his fork back up and decided denying the truth was better than having a meltdown.
So he stuck his head in the proverbial sand and finished his breakfast.
* * * *
“So you wanna tell me why I wasn’t allowed to come over here for two days?” Corky dropped onto Walker’s sofa an hour after Bailey had finished his breakfast. Bailey wanted to laugh at the absurdity, and cry because his gut told him that he was really pregnant. “If my exile lasted any longer, I would’ve come over here and busted you out.” Corky glanced around before whispering, “He didn’t, like, have you tied up in his basement or anything, did he?”
“If he did, you would’ve been two days too late to rescue me.” Bailey glowered at him. “Some best friend you are.”
Corky’s hazel eyes shined. He was obviously high. Nothing was new about that, though Bailey doubted the old couple he was staying with let him smoke in the house.
“But you’re fine,” Corky whined. “Don’t be mad at me, B.”
Bailey hated when Corky called him that. “You shouldn’t go sneaking off into the woods to smoke.” He told his best friend about last night, and what he thought he saw, along with the fact Clint and Walker had changed into humongous-ass bears.
Corky fell back on the sofa cushions. “Man, I miss all the excitement.”
“Did you hear me?”
Corky eyed him. “I think you’ve been dipping in the drinky-drinky.”
Bailey wished.
“I wasn’t drinking last night,” Bailey argued. “Do you understand my warning, idiot?”
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t go into the woods. I heard ya.” He sat up. “’Sides, me and Abe got a game to continue after lunch, anyway.” Corky once again looked around and lowered his voice. “I think Abe wants to hit the blunt, but he’s scared the old lady’ll find out.”
Bailey rolled his eyes. “Stop corrupting the old guy.”
Corky shrugged. “Who am I to stop anyone from opening their mind?”
The guy was hopeless. Bailey wondered if he should tell Corky about being knocked up, but something held him back—aside from how crazy that sounded. Walker was in the kitchen with a few of his brothers, so Walker shouldn’t be able to hear him, still, Bailey kept the news to himself.
Corky got up and wandered to the windows. “I can’t believe it’s snowing up here. I don’t have the right clothes for this shit.” He turned to Bailey. “How long’re we gonna be here?”
Walker’s ominous words echoed in Bailey’s brain. �
�Hon, you are home. You’re not leaving these mountains.” “Not really sure.” Walker had given that threat to Bailey. He wasn’t sure if Corky was free to go. But if he was, Bailey didn’t want to be stuck here by himself.
“Well, this place is pretty cool. I mean, look at this house.” Corky waved his hands around. “How lucky were you that a rich guy wanted to bang you? Thanks for insisting I come along. Deloris and Abe are awesome. She keeps feeding me pastries and pies. I think I gained a pound in the last two days.”
Bailey had eaten everything Walker had served him, but was still hungry. He didn’t want to go into the kitchen with all those men in there, but that was where the food was.
“Got any good food around here?”
Bailey grinned. “Great minds think alike.”
“Then let’s go raid the cupboards.” Corky grabbed Bailey’s hand and pulled him into the kitchen. Bailey would’ve gone willingly, but let his friend drag him along.
When they entered, Walker, Bobby Ray, and Wade—he knew who they were because Walker had introduced them when they’d come over—looked their way. Bailey had the urge to walk right up to Walker and curl into his arms, but he wasn’t the type to show affection in a crowded room. Then again, he hadn’t had too many opportunities to show affection in private. Grizzly Ridge wasn’t a big town, and most of the gay men there weren’t all that attractive.
“You guys can have the living room,” Corky said as he released Bailey’s hand. “We’re gonna cook some shit up.”
Walker flashed his gray eyes at Bailey. “Hungry?”
Bailey felt famished again but simply shrugged. “Just a bit.”
He felt like he was standing in a room with quarterbacks. All three brothers were huge, handsome as hell, and Bailey felt intimidated as he looked at them.
“Help yourself to anything you want,” Walker said.
“My favorite words.” Corky wandered to the fridge and rummaged through it as Bailey simply stood there, stuck on stupid. He couldn’t stop staring at Walker, or wanting him. Although he no longer felt consumed with heat, he remembered all the naughty things Walker had done to him, and Bailey wanted a repeat.
One of the times they’d had sex, Walker had tied Bailey to the bed. That had scared the hell out of him at first, but Walker had rocked his world.
As if he knew what was going through Bailey’s mind, Walker winked at him. Bailey’s face flushed as he glanced away. Walker chuckled and he wanted to melt into the floor.
“We’ll leave you guys to your food.” Walker looked at Corky. “Clean up any mess you make, and no smoking that shit in my house. It smells like you bathed in it.”
Corky sniffed himself. “No, it doesn’t.”
Walker tapped his nose. “I got an excellent sense of smell and you smell like a skunk.”
With a roll of his eyes, Corky went back to raiding the fridge. Bailey’s blush deepened when Walker gave him a thorough, passionate kiss before the three men headed into the living room. Bailey stood there panting, licking his lips as he eyeballed Walker’s ass.
“I need a guy like that.” Bailey had barely made out what Corky had said around the piece of lunch meat in his mouth. After swallowing, Corky asked, “He got any single brothers?”
Bailey searched the cupboards. “Don’t know.”
“I’ll grill Abe later.”
Bailey sat at the island and watched Corky munch on chips and cookies. The longer Bailey sat there, the more he thought about his situation with Walker. His hand went to his stomach, and Bailey could no longer keep his secret bottled up.
“I’m pregnant.”
Corky was in the middle of drinking a can of Coke and choked at Bailey’s confession. Bailey hopped up and pounded him on the back.
“Dude!” Corky took a deep breath and held up his hand. “I’m fine, stop beating me.” He set his can aside and wiped his mouth. “What did you just say? Did you say you’re pregnant?”
Bailey held a finger to his lips. “Not so damn loud.”
One of Corky’s blond brows rose. “What kind of weird game are you playing with me?”
“I’m not.” Bailey bit his lip. “It’s true.” He showed Corky the conception line on his stomach. “I thought Walker was crazy when he told me, but there’s a lot going on here that you don’t know about.”
Bailey explained about the bite Walker had given him, the heat, mates, and about how his body had gone through some sort of change.
“This is so fucked-up.”
“You believe me?” Bailey asked.
“I don’t think any guy would lie about something like that.” He lifted Bailey’s shirt again and studied his stomach. “So how exactly are you supposed to give birth?” He dropped the material and winced. “I’m not sure I even want to know.”
Neither did Bailey. He was starting to fall for Walker, but the longer he thought about his situation, the more panicked he felt. “What am I supposed to do?” This was happening so fast, too fast. Bailey had been there for three days. Three days. Now he was mated and had a bun in the oven. He might be falling for Walker and he even might want the man sexually, but he felt as if he were on a bullet train and couldn’t get off. He just wanted things to slow down, way down. He wasn’t ready to be a father. Bailey never thought that would even be possible since he was gay, but now that it was, he wanted to stop the world from moving so he could take a long breath.
“My high is officially gone,” Corky said. “So is my appetite. Dude, if it was me, I’d be pissed as hell. And he didn’t tell you any of this upfront?”
Bailey shrugged. “He tried to, but I was so out of it with lust that my mind wasn’t grasping his words.”
“We need to get out of here.” Corky glanced toward the living room. “How do you know there aren’t other surprises waiting for you? We don’t know these guys. They could be witches, or Satanists. Maybe Walker put some sort of hex on you.”
Bailey highly doubted any of that, but Corky had one good point. What if there were more things to find out, things Bailey didn’t want to stick around for?
“Wait for Walker to go to bed, then sneak out,” Corky whispered. “We’ll get the hell out of here, then we’ll figure out what to do about that bun in your oven.”
Bailey nodded. But he didn’t plan on just simply sneaking away. He needed to let Walker know how he felt, how wrong all of this was. Bailey needed closure before he took off and never looked back.
Chapter Six
Jesse Callahan had spent the better part of the night tracking a feeder. The thing was crafty and quick, staying one step ahead. But the longer he followed the noxious odor, the more he realized the strong scent might belong to more than just one.
Avery and Declan flanked him, sniffing along the ground as they moved closer and closer to bear territory. He’d gotten a call the night before from Clint saying that he and one of his brothers had killed one of those creatures.
Jesse didn’t like feeders being so close to his own territory, and was pissed no one had yet found where those things rested during the day. If they could find that place, they could eliminate the problem altogether.
Avery shifted and glanced around as he rubbed his hands up and down his arms. “We’re in Clint’s territory. You should call him and hand this hunt over to the bears.”
Jesse shifted to his human form. God, it was cold as shit. His dick was trying its best to crawl inside him as the wind blew across his naked body. “This is a problem for all of us,” Jesse said. “Valentino called me earlier. He found another hiker with her throat ripped out. There’s already been enough attention on these mountains. We don’t need the cops coming up here and poking around.”
Thanks to the deaths of Grizzly Ridge’s sheriff and an FBI agent in the mountains, people in the surrounding towns were antsy. Jesse didn’t have the problems with Howling Cavern that the Rising men did with Grizzly Ridge, and he wanted to keep it that way. Whereas the bears tried their best to stay away from civilization, Jesse
loved Howling Cavern, loved going there to dine, to see a movie, to shop. A lot of the residents were shifters, and Jesse worked with the local law—though Sheriff Gilmore had no clue most of the town was preternatural. Gilmore never complained when Jesse and his men helped out. He and Gilmore had even gone to lunch on several occasions just to shoot the shit and relax.
Jesse was in good standing with most of the folks, and he’d be damned if he let the feeders take that away from him. But if those creatures kept killing humans, a posse would be formed, and the last group of humans who had come into the mountains still left a bad taste in Jesse’s mouth.
“We track until we find these things,” he said. Besides, his cousin, Elijah, was mated to one of the bears. Jesse might not have the responsibility of taking care of him any longer, but he still wanted to protect not only Elijah, but Elijah’s son, Weston. Elijah had given birth not too long after Dean had, and he’d fallen in love with his nephew on sight. Jesse loved his nephew fiercely and would kill anyone who thought of harming him.
“Then I hope we find one,” Avery said. “I want to rip its throat out just for making me freeze my nuts off.” He shifted into his wolf and trotted away.
Jesse knew how Avery felt. The snow had started falling earlier in the day and had yet to stop. Winter seemed to be coming early on the mountains, and he’d rather be at home in his warm bed.
But Jesse was the alpha of the wolf pack, and he had a duty to defend not only his territory, but the residents of Howling Cavern. He shifted and joined Avery and Declan, wishing he had his cell phone so he could call Clint and warn him that they were tracking the scent into the bears’ neck of the woods.
Normally, one needed to ask for permission before entering another shifter’s domain, but these weren’t normal circumstances, and time was against them.
If Jesse and his men didn’t track those feeders down, the bears just might suffer another attack. Although Jesse wasn’t quite buddies with the guys, he begrudgingly admitted they were family by default because Elijah had mated one of them.