by Amelia Jade
Despite her best efforts, Gwen turned to the side and retched as the reality of what she was looking at overwhelmed her senses for a moment.
“I told you, you should have gone inside,” a strong, deep voice said as she finished.
“And what,” she said, some of her former personality showing through, “gives you the idea that right now while I’m busy losing my lunch is the best time to say ‘I told you so’? Hmm?” she said, waving her hand, trying to get him to go away. She was embarrassed, and didn’t want anyone, let alone the extremely cute Russell, to see her like this.
“Here,” he said, ignoring her question.
She looked slightly to the side. He was holding out a rag.
“Thank you,” she said, taking it from his hand and wiping down the corners of her mouth.
“I think the washroom is still intact. More or less,” he said with a shrug as she looked up at him.
In the background, she could see some of the other shifters preparing to dispose of the bodies. Very quickly she looked back up at Russell. His brown eyes were filled with far more warmth, enough to keep her entranced for some time.
“Why are you being so nice?”
“Well,” he responded humorously. “Why not? You haven’t given me any reason not to be. And secondly, what you just did there—besides being incredibly unnecessary—was rather brave and polite.”
“Polite?” she said incredulously. “How was that polite?”
“You came in here to our home, and instead of making a huge scene about how our laws are so different from yours, you protested, listened to reason, and then against your own personal faith, you took part. That takes guts,” he said with a nod of respect toward her.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, sticking out a hand.
“You guys are weird,” she said, shaking her head, but she took the offered help and managed not to look at him as he lifted her to her feet as if she were nothing. The innate strength a shifter possessed was something that would take a while to get used to.
Her brain flashed her an image of him pinning her to the wall, holding her aloft for quite some time.
Stop that. You barely know him.
Bare.
Bear.
Hahaha.
She shook her head. Now was not the time for her lame sense of humor, no matter how much it wanted to poke its head through. Reining in her secretive love of puns, Gwen followed Russell as he led the way back inside. He held the door open for her, which struck her as mildly funny.
“What?” Russell asked when she couldn’t quite contain her smile.
“Oh, I just find it funny that you’re here holding the door for me despite the massive, gaping holes in all the walls around us,” she said, pointing to at least four different exits that had been made.
Russell snorted, then laughed. His smile extended all the way up into his eyes. She wondered if he was single. The way he was acting around her suggested he was. She’d have to ask Emma what the rules were on dating shifters. Who knows what other rituals they might have!
“Here,” Russell said as she exited the washroom a few minutes later, feeling slightly fresher, the shock and horror of what she had witnessed beginning to fade. He was holding out a bottle.
“What is it?” she asked cautiously.
“Beer.”
“Oh, I don’t drink beer,” she said as politely as possible, doing her best not to curl her lip in distaste.
Russell frowned at her. Gwen swore internally at her lack of control of her facial features. Insulting him wasn’t something she had meant to do. Clearly he had been offering her more than just a beer. Perhaps, she thought, it was part of the courtship rituals. Not that Russell had given any real indication that he wanted to court her.
Swallowing her pride, she forced herself to take the still-proffered beer and swallow some of it as well.
“Thanks?” she said meekly, raising the bottle his way.
“How can you not like beer?” he said with a smile and shake of his head, before taking it back.
“You know,” she said contemplatively, “until recently, I’ve never really been all that exposed to it. It was always cocktails or wine. I’d take anything like that,” she said, panning her hand across the devastated bar, “but it doesn’t really look like there’s much left.”
“Oh, I’m sure we can find you something,” Russell said, diving into the wreckage, searching for unbroken bottles.
She laughed and watched as he made slow progress, turning up broken bottle after broken bottle. “Try over there!” she exclaimed, pointing toward an area that seemed to have suffered slightly less destruction than the rest.
“Oh, Gwen. There you are,” Emma said, coming up to her. “Listen, I’m sorry, but I have to wait for a representative from the head office to arrive, and then fill out some reports and that kind of stuff. I can’t really do much for the rest of the day.”
“That’s okay Em, I totally get it,” she said, her eyes inadvertently flicking back over to Russell. She saw he had found one bottle and was searching for more, or perhaps a glass.
“If you want,” Emma said slowly, “I can have Russell fill out his report with me, and then he can take you back to your hotel room.”
Shit. She swore, realizing Emma must have seen her glance. The last thing she wanted was her best friend trying to help her hook up with a shifter. She would probably try to arrange their marriage. Gwen wasn’t sure she was ready to move as fast as her friend. When she had found out upon her arrival in Origin that Emma and Garrett had gotten engaged, she could scarcely believe it. Until she had seen the two of them together. Then it had all made sense. But that wasn’t the path for Gwen Revere, she was sure of it.
“Got it!” Russell cried out successfully as he held up several bottles and an empty glass.
“What is it?” she asked, ignoring Emma for the moment.
“No idea actually. Just three different types of things, one of them fruity looking.”
“Sounds good!” she cried with a laugh, shaking her head. “Come up with a name for it. If it’s good, you can invent a new drink.”
“Okay, I’m definitely having Russell take you back to your hotel,” Emma said decisively as Gwen turned back to look at her friend.
“You’re ridiculous,” she told her.
“Hey, I’m not the one flirting openly with a guy I just met,” Emma replied.
“He’s cute!” she whispered, giggling, which seemed utterly inappropriate given what had all just transpired, but she couldn’t help herself. Life worked in mysterious ways sometimes, and who was she to fight it?
“Russell,” Emma said. The shifter looked over at her. “When you’re done there, come give me your statement, and then take the afternoon to show Gwen around, will you? I’m going to be busy here for a while, unfortunately.”
“Of course Ms. Hoffman,” he teased.
“That’s Mrs. Hoffman to you, oaf!” she said.
“Here, come try this,” was his response. He had found a second glass it appeared, making two of his concoctions.
“I don’t—” Emma started to say.
“Oh no you don’t!” Gwen said, dragging her friend along after her. “If I’m trying this potential failure of colossal proportions, so are you!”
“Fine, but you first,” Emma said. “I’m on duty anyway.”
Nervously, Gwen took a glass and sniffed at it.
“Holy hell! What did you put in here, pure rubbing alcohol?” she said, coughing at the strength.
“Whatever I could find,” he said, “Now drink up or have some beer.”
“Fine,” she said, taking the glass and taking a sip. It burned the whole way down. But strangely, it wasn’t that bad. “Don’t sip,” she told Emma, as her friend went to follow. “Just take it back.” She followed through, tossing back the rest of her drink. The fire traced its way down into her stomach, a slight warming feeling infusing her as it settled there.
“Just what we needed I think,” she proclaimed, then turned her glass upside down as Russell went to refill it. “Yeah, it wasn’t that good, Mister,” she said with a wink.
“Here,” Ferro said, coming out of the back with what appeared to be an alcohol cooler of some sort. Either way, it had images of fruit all over it, and Gwen was game to try anything after Russell’s concoction.
Drinks in hand, she and Russell created a makeshift table from several piles of debris and a mostly-intact tabletop, and then pulled up two miraculously unbroken chairs to sit in front of it.
“So Gwen,” he said conversationally. “What brings you all the way out to our fair town of Origin, and our way of life?”
She looked at him, then down at their improvised table, then around at the devastation surrounding them. Even as her eyes roamed, a piece of debris fell from the ceiling, adding to the wreckage. Chairs and tables lay crushed flat everywhere, blood was spattered on most every visible surface, pooled in others, and even Russell himself was covered in dried blood and shredded clothing.
“This sort of thing really doesn’t faze you, does it?” she asked.
“On the contrary,” he said, his voice softer than she’d heard it before as he acknowledged her point. He leaned forward as he continued talking, making it clear he was speaking only to her. “I regret that any of this had to happen in the first place. Even more so that you had to get involved in it, though I’m extremely thankful you’re okay. But I will mourn those who were ended today. Perhaps not the individuals themselves, but that life itself had to be extinguished. That will always faze me. But blood, broken furniture and general destruction?” He smiled broadly, suddenly back to himself, “Welcome to Origin,” he finished.
Gwen evaluated everything he had just said. The serious and the not so serious.
“Why not spare them then?” she asked.
“The iron rule is that you don’t harm humans, in either bear form or using the natural strength of your animal. Nothing that you have can counter that. So it is punishable to the extreme. It has to be that way. Too many humans get hurt or killed every year even with the rule in place. Could you imagine if it wasn’t there? We have to enforce it, Gwen, not just for your sake, but for ours.”
“Does this happen often?” she asked, wondering if perhaps she had made a mistake in coming to Origin.
“Of this magnitude? No. This is only the second one of this size that has happened since I’ve been here, and that’s going on seven years now. But I would say on average, probably one a month. Generally it’s just one shifter who’s done something, not an entire group. That’s what makes this whole thing so strange. I’m sure we’ll figure out what their reasons were, but it may take months or more before we do.”
“I see.”
“Do you?” he asked, genuine caring evident in his voice.
“Yes. It all goes back to what you told me outside. You look human, but you aren’t. Just because I don’t agree with it doesn’t mean I can’t understand your reasoning for it. Plus, if Emma understands it, then I’m sure it’ll come to me eventually. I likely just have to spend more time around shifters.
“And,” he hesitated, “is that something you plan on doing?”
“What? Spending more time around shifters?”
He nodded. She could see how much he wanted her to say yes. It was as clear as daylight. Gwen couldn’t help herself; she had to tease him.
“Oh for sure. I don’t know about you,” she said, smiling, “but I’m not going anywhere just yet.”
He looked so absurdly over-the-top dejected she couldn’t help but laugh, which brought a smile to his face.
“Okay, okay!” she relented. “I guess I could include you in there somewhere.”
“Excellent!” he hissed, clenching his fist in mock victory.
“Besides,” she added, looking over at him again. His day-old facial hair added a bit of roguish charm that she liked. He looked good with it, and she wondered if he normally kept it trimmed, or if he had just skipped a day. Guess you’ll just have to find out. “I don’t really have anywhere else to go, so you’re kind of stuck with me.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.
“Well, you asked what brings me to town. You’ve shown and told me so much about this place, and to a lesser extent yourself. I suppose I can answer that question now.” She took a deep, steadying breath. It still wasn’t easy to talk about.
“Whenever you’re ready,” he said, sitting back gingerly in his chair so as not to break it, while he gave her time to organize her thoughts.
“I was supposed to come visit Emma, oh... at least two months ago,” she started. Russell nodded. He must have heard about that. Which, she thought to herself, made sense, because Emma would have had to tell Garrett, who would have made arrangements for her when she was going to stay with the Ridgebacks.
“Anyway, I had been overseas in Paris. I used to work in the fashion industry, and it was runway season, so that’s where I was. But it got to be more than I was interested in, so I came back to see my parents. I was going to come out here to visit Emma, but a week before that, my parents were both killed in a car crash.” She barely got the last sentence out, before taking a deep, shuddering breath as she tried to keep her emotions in check.
Grieving was okay, she told herself, but talking about it is what will help heal the wounds with time. Crying every time you try to talk about it doesn’t help the situation.
“Holy hell Gwen, I’m so sorry.” Russell sat up straight, and his arm twitched in her direction as if he wanted to reach out and touch her. A part of her smiled. His interest in her, which from anyone else she knew would have freaked her out in its intensity, was somehow reassuring with him.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “It was…unexpected, to say the least. I’m an only child too, so I had to fly out to the other side of the country to deal with the funeral, the lawyers, their estate, all that. I wanted to call Emma, but my mind just couldn’t cope at the time. Even when I got home, I couldn’t handle it. So I sold all my stuff, packed up what I had left, and drove out here, not really knowing what else to do with my life. That was two nights ago. I’ve been staying in the hotel downtown ever since.”
“I do not envy you the past few months,” Russell said eventually into the silence that descended upon them, although they continued to look at each other.
What is going on? I feel like I’ve known him for so long.
Gwen knew something was at work. She was sitting in the middle of a battlefield, telling someone who was practically a stranger her life story, and yet somehow it was making her feel better about things, allowing her to relax in ways she hadn’t been able to in months past. Even the realization of that wasn’t freaking her out, which it should have been.
“Russell,” she said, then closed her mouth.
“Yes?” he asked when she didn’t continue.
Gwen shook her head softly. She had almost asked him what was going on between them, but she didn’t. She wouldn’t, not yet at least. Whatever it was, it was something she could feel. Emotions had been all too rare over the past few months, and the last thing she wanted to do now was risk ruining it by talking about it. For now she was just going to go with the flow.
“What’s your last name?” she asked instead.
“Warne. Russell Warne. What’s yours?”
“Revere,” she said, sticking out her hand. His large, and quite warm hand engulfed hers, giving it a nice, firm shake.
“I’m cold,” she said, the realization sinking in suddenly. The adrenaline must have been wearing off finally. Although it was a warm enough day for the time of year, it was still early November, and temperatures were dropping.
“Where’s your jacket?” Russell asked, looking around.
“In the car. Emma told me it was warm in here, and that I wouldn’t need it. Turns out she was right, but I’m not sure if she knew about the new air c
onditioning system that was installed.”
“Air...conditioning?” Russell looked around, trying to understand what she meant.
“It’s right there!” she said, pointing toward one of the holes that had been blown in the side of the wall.
Russell froze for a moment, then looked over at her. “You, Gwen Revere, have a great sense of humor.” Then he began to laugh. Loudly, uncontrollably, and perfectly honest. He didn’t try to hide anything as he howled with laughter. She could see how the tension had gotten to him as well, and he was letting it all loose now as his broad, muscular shoulders heaved with the effort.
“Russell?”
As quickly as the glimpse into his soul had been, it was gone. She watched as Russell tightened up, his motions becoming stiff and unsure as he turned toward the source of the voice.
“Yes?” he replied.
“Emma is ready for your report now,” Garrett said from over near the bar itself.
“Okay,” he said over his shoulder.
“Is Garrett that bad?” Gwen asked very quietly.
“What do you mean? Garrett’s a good guy. One of the better Alphas if you ask me,” Russell said, fiercely defending Garrett.
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that when he called your name, you changed,” she said, trying to placate Russell’s sudden intensity, showing that she was just trying to understand. “You stopped laughing, and you seemed to tense up and get nervous. I just, I don’t know. I’m sorry?” she said with a shrug of her shoulders, trying to fix it.
“Don’t be,” Russell said, letting his breath out loudly. “I shouldn’t have torn your head off there, you were just asking. I’m the one that should be sorry,” he said with a lopsided smile.
“Before you go, do I get the short version of who you are and why you’re here?” she asked.
“I came here because I had a temper, and kept getting in trouble with the authorities. I thought the whole world was out to get me. I’ve since realized I was the problem, and that I actually quite like it here. The mining seems to agree with me,” he said with a shrug and a smile. “So much so, in fact, I told my brother to come join me,” he said brightly. “He told me that he’d come check it out in a month or two. So I spent the next six months waiting on him.”