Ginger and Thyme (Kootenai Pack Book 4)

by Lynn Katzenmeyer

“Come on Ursula, there’s nothing out here,” a man speaks as if to the monster standing beside him. The man is tall, but the grizzly on all fours reaches higher than his elbows.

  The bear grunts in response before standing on her hind legs, dwarfing the man with the change in height. Her nose is lifted skyward.

  No, no, no no

  Be quiet, I tell the whining pup in the back of my mind. I need to focus

  I’m too young to die

  We won’t die

  The pup in my mind quiets and lets me focus. I have to keep us alive. I shut her out completely.

  It is likely we would die tonight. Her terror would only make it more painful. It is best she does not see what happens next.

  The bear thudded back to the ground, squishing the mud beneath her massive paws. She took off at a sprint and I was a goner.

  At least the pup won’t feel it coming this time.

  The roar of the bear ruffles my fur. She’s discovered my hiding spot. On her breath, I can smell berries and decaying flesh.

  I’m next.

  I quiver, helpless to do anything but cower.

  There is no show of aggression I can do that would intimidate a grizzly bear this size. My only hope is that she gives me a swift death.

  “Wait, Ursula!” a man runs after the bear, “I don’t think that’s a fox.”

  The massive jaws of the bear open and I am sure this is the end.

  “Ursula, she’s like me!” the man shouts. He steps between the bear and me.

  Stupid human. Now he’s going to die too. Maybe I can use his inevitable mauling as cover for my escape. An unfortunate sacrifice. But I must do what I can to survive.

  Another memory to hide from the pup. She has enough nightmares as it is.

  The bear huffs and sits on her haunches. The man turns and crouches in front of me.

  “Hey there, why don’t you shift and talk to us?” His voice is soft and gentle. Safe. But I have no idea what he’s saying.

  Shift? The pup in my mind asks.

  I can feel my control over her fading. She wants out. She can’t come out. It’s not safe for her.

  Stay

  Shift… I… I can do that?

  No

  I assert my control over her. She’s not safe when she’s in control. She’s bound to get one or both of us killed. No, it’s better if I’m in charge.

  I whimper at the man and cower. I need him to leave. If I show him he had nothing to fear from me, maybe he’d let me go.

  “Come on, darlin’ I got you, you’re safe,” he says. He reaches out and touches me. I flinch away.

  He wants to help

  We can’t trust him

  You say we can’t trust anyone

  We can’t

  If she knew all the things I protected her from, she wouldn’t be so quick to doubt me. I saved us. I risked everything to protect her. I wouldn’t stop until we were safe forever.

  “You’re scared,” he says, backing away, hands raised, “That’s ok. Ursula’s growl is bigger than her bite. She’s actually very nice. Are you hungry?”

  Yes

  I feed you

  Garbage!

  Food is food

  What does he have to offer? Can you at least check?

  No

  “Well if you change your mind, Ursula’s land is about a quarter mile that way. I live in the loft above the barn. I’ll leave some scraps in a lockbox for you. Code is 4344 ok?”

  Food, shelter, come on let’s go!

  The pup was too trusting. He’d treat us like the rest had. I growl at him. The bear growls at me.

  “It’s ok Ursula, let’s go,” the man said, turning his back on me to talk to the bear. They leave. I don’t follow.

  Night falls I remain in my hiding spot. Hunger becomes too much for me.

  4344, 4344 the pup has been repeating these same numbers for hours. She thinks it will convince me to risk being caught in an obvious trap.

  Please, I’m hungry

  I’m hungry too, but that’s not enough reason to-

  Shift. I know that word. Why do I know that word?

  I can’t let her take control. It never goes well.

  Fine we’ll get food

  Yay!

  If we die-

  It’s my fault yeah, yeah

  I stalk in the direction the man pointed. I follow the trail of the bear, coming across others, black, polar, and more grizzlies-cubs if I had to guess.

  This is such a bad idea….

  4344, 4344

  I find the lockbox, but I can’t open it with my jaws. I nudge the dial trying to turn the numbers, but it’s not working.

  Damn, if only we had fingers

  No. I feel the shift begin. Just the pup thinking about shifting back to human form makes it begin. I try my hardest to keep it from happening- to stay on four paws. Her will is too strong. She wants out. She can’t get out.

  I can’t protect her when she’s on two legs. I can’t keep her safe. I fight against the reshaping of my paws. The elongation of each toe into a finger and the retraction of claw into bone. I’ve stopped shifts further along than this. I can do it again. I will muzzle to remain intact, but the pup is fighting even harder.

  She wants out.

  The crack in my hips signals to me I’ve lost. Soon my fur would be gone, and I’d be nothing more than the voice in the back of her mind, hoping like hell she doesn’t get us killed.

  Chapter Three

  The Girl

  The compound of the bears, Near Mainsbury, Minnesota

  4 years ago

  Every part of my body hurts. I shifted. Ten fingers, ten toes, two legs. My mind raced trying to remember what it felt like to move on two legs. How long had it been since I last was human?

  Not long enough

  The voice of my wolf was strong tonight. She didn't approve of this shift.

  Why did I do this?

  4344

  Right, food. I turned to the lock box and with clumsy thumbs managed to get the lock opened. Rather than the promised food, the box contained a piece of paper. The scribbles on it meant nothing to me.

  You know how to read, pup

  Right, reading. I focused and started at the paper again. Cognition slowly returned.

  Little wolf,

  Food is inside the barn.

  -Cain

  What kind of a name is ‘Cain?’

  A man’s name. I’m going to get food

  Don’t die

  I won’t die. He seems nice

  They always do

  I stood as best I could, ultimately needing to lean on the barn for stability. The skin on my palms was red, raw from the shift.

  Shift back, I can take care of us

  I can do it

  It was shameful that my wolf took care of me like a child. I should be able to feed myself. I took a step. The mud squished between my toes. It was cold. The chill sent pain and tingles right up my leg.

  You’re injured. You need to shift so I can heal you

  I’m cold. I’ll be fine once I get inside

  I could feel my wolf huffing in the corner of my mind. I needed to prove to her that I was capable of being in control of the body.

  I round the corner of the barn. The backyard darkened when a light is turned off in the distant home. Ursula’s house. The bear lived in a modest old farmhouse, designed for function, and updated as the years went on.

  I continued around until I found the door to the barn. I was exhausted by the small journey. As best I could, I opened the door without sound. Inside the barn, it smelled strongly of sawdust, motor oil, and the man. Cain.

  My wolf had tried to hide him from me when the bear attacked. But I had been so mesmerized by the man and his bravery. Watching him come between my wolf and a bear, I hadn’t fully taken in his scent. It was different than anyone I’d ever smelled before. He smelled of wolf and human. Like me. He was like me.

  I didn’t hear anyone inside the barn, so I
kept going. The note said food was inside the barn, but where? I stayed around the edge of the barn, moving slowly to avoid the sharp tools scattered on the ground.

  “Food’s in the back,” the voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. The tenor of his voice rumbled and bounced off the maze of clutter.

  I squeaked and turned, trying to find the source of the sound. In doing so, I stepped on a nail, or something sharp.

  That’s it

  No, it’s fine, I got it

  You’re injured

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya,” the voice- Cain, said. He stepped from around a tarp covered object and into a beam of light.

  Through my own eyes I got a good look at him. He was dressed in clothes so frayed they might as well have been rags. His hair was scruffy, his cheeks hollow, but his eyes sparkled a bright green. He offered me a reassuring smile.

  “I’m Cain. You’re safe here.” He motioned to my feet, “Did you injure yourself? I heard a yelp. I can take a look at it if you’d like. I’ve had my fair share of random barn injuries.”

  This is the trap don’t let him touch you

  It’s fine

  “I won’t hurt you, promise,” he said with a half smirk, “I’m packless too.”

  “Pa… packless?” Trying to get my voice out of my mouth was more challenging than I thought. When was the last time I talked? My wolf growled on occasion, barked every so often, but on the whole, silence was key. Silence kept us safe.

  The smirk disappeared from his face, “How long have you been in wolf form?”

  I opened my mouth to answer but closed it. I had no idea. What year was it? What year did I leave? Where was I from?

  Who was I?

  You are me; I am you. That’s all you need to know.

  “Let’s get you that food then, eh?” Cain extended his hand out to me. I stared at it. Five fingers, broad palm, waiting for me to take it with my own hand, “You’re scared, that’s okay. I know it’s hard to take a stranger at their word, but I will not hurt you.”

  He’s lying. They all hurt you. They all hurt us.

  “Pr.. promise?” I managed to ask.

  “Promise,” he repeated, offering his hand again.

  My wolf warred with me. I wanted to take it. To accept the promise.

  She wanted to run.

  Hide.

  Never look back.

  This was my decision to make. I wanted to trust him. I wanted to stop running. I reached out my own hand and skin to skin, his hand engulfed mine with his promise that I’d be safe.

  ***

  Cain led me to the back of the barn, taking care to warn me of sharp objects and oil puddles. He talked the entire time, explaining the most mundane things, but I was fascinated.

  “Over here is the tool bench, not much to tell about it, I’ve been slowly collecting Ursula’s junked tools. She’s an electrician, wouldn’t know it to look at her, but she has the top safety rating in the state.” The words were strange to me, but I nodded as if I understood.

  I wanted him to keep talking. His voice was soothing. The more he talked, the more I wanted to hear him speak. It wasn’t deep; it wasn’t high; it was the right pitch to put me at ease.

  “I’ve mainly been doing chores for the bears in the den, saving every penny I earn in hopes to one day open a garage,” he continued. He lifted a tarp exposing the skeleton of a car, “I’m still years away from that though. Every penny counts, and I’m just grateful she lets me live rent free.”

  I nodded along and we finally reached the approximation of a kitchen. An ancient refrigerator, a microwave, and a hot plate sat behind a small folding table and two mismatched wooden chairs.

  “Take a seat, I’ll start cooking,” he said, “any allergies?”

  Allergies? I shook my head. What a weird question.

  He cooked in silence, and I watched him.

  He favors his right side

  He’s not an enemy

  When he turns on you, use his weakness against him

  He promised not to hurt us

  Lies

  Cain set a paper plate with a piece of greasy pizza and a handful of soggy French fries in front of me. I looked up at him to verify it was for me. He gave me a soft nod, and I dove in. Never in my entire life had I eaten something so delicious. There was no mold. There was no disease. Only sausage and pepperoni.

  “Let me get you some clothes,” he said, “Ursula doesn’t like naked shewolves around the cubs. She thinks the wolf’s naturally leaner physique will give the kids a complex.”

  Don’t wear the clothes

  Why not? It is a little chilly in here

  Clothes are just another way to trap you, to make it more difficult for me to come out and protect you

  Now you’re being ridiculous

  Don’t make me remind you of things best forgotten

  I shivered again. My wolf was right. She was always right. Nowhere was safe, I had to keep moving. I needed to find the exit. I needed to find the way to the woods. I needed to keep running. I needed to-

  “Here you go,” Cain reappeared, casual as if he weren’t planning on trapping me in a cage taking me out only for his own amusement. He looked at me and his face fell, “What happened? Did one of the bears come in here?”

  He lifted his nose and shook his head, “No, I don’t smell them. Why are you so scared?”

  I got up from the table and ran. I expected him to chase me. But he didn’t. The maze of junk in the barn was overwhelming. Maybe if I found a place to hide.

  Yes, hide. Hide and shift.

  I ducked under a tarp and crawled. Making myself as small as I could.

  “I promised you were safe here,” Cain’s voice was distant, he was speaking loud, but not shouting, “I meant it. Whatever you need to do to feel safe is ok, but please don’t break anything. There’s more food in the fridge. I’ve left the clothes on the table. I’m turning in for the night. Sleep well, Little Wolf.”

  His footsteps faded, followed by creaking of metallic springs in an ancient mattress.

  Do you think-

  No, don’t even think about it.

  But it’s been so long since we slept in a real bed.

  Beds are cages.

  You think everything is a cage. He hasn’t done anything.

  Yet.

  My wolf and I argued with each other from the safety of our hiding spot. She wanted me to flee. I wanted to stay. I was scared, but I was also tired. The spot was uncomfortable but better than outside.

  What’s that sound?

  It was haunting. A sound that called to me. The sadness rattled my bones.

  Let me out

  Why

  I need to go to him

  I thought he was dangerous

  He is

  Are you going to hurt him

  Let me out pup, I won’t ask again

  The shift was long and painful. As soon as I was on four paws, my wolf took off climbing a narrow stairway with little effort. She leapt onto a bed and curled into a tiny ball.

  Sleep pup. I will protect you

  What are you doing?

  We can stay tonight. Sleep

  The mournful howl quieted to a whimper. Sleep overtook me and the dreams began.

  ***

  The Wolf

  The soft bed beneath me is warm against my fur. The male’s scent is fresh in the air. He is still here. The pup still slept inside my skin. Good she does not need to see what comes next.

  “Oh, are you awake little wolf?” the ladder creaks under his weight as he climbs back to the loft. Cain is the name the pup gave him. She is fearless, but she should always fear a beast in pain. Cain has more pain inside his wolf than any creature I’ve ever seen.

  “I hope you like bacon,” he says. I lift my nose and the aroma of steaming bacon hits my nose. My jaws fill with saliva. My memory cannot find the last time fresh bacon has entered my mouth. I live on scraps. Humans are wasteful, they leave ple
nty in their garbage to eat. But this wasn’t refuse. This was still warm.

  “I’m going to let you have this plate, then I’m going to need to chat with your human side,” he says.

  I snarl. I’m not letting the pup anywhere near him alone. She is too trusting of this strange wolf. I am too trusting of this strange wolf. We are safe alone. We are safe in the woods. I protect us. The world is a terrible place for wolves like us.

  “I don’t expect you to trust me overnight,” he says, setting the plate on the bed. He steps back and leans against the wall. He’s calm, casual. Unafraid.

  He’s nice

  It’s a lie

  You can’t protect me forever, wolf. How are we to-

  I refuse to let this conversation begin again. The pup believes in magic and that people are inherently good. She’s wrong. There is no good in this world but us.

  And bacon.

  I eat the plate as quickly as I can manage. Food is fleeting in this world. The stronger wolf might take it from me. And I am not strong enough to defeat a full-grown male, no matter how much I want to.

  “Now that you have some food in your belly, I hope you can listen to reason,” Cain says, “I can promise the human side of you three-square meals and a safe place to sleep. The bears are always looking for help around the dens, if the human side of you is willing to work, I can also promise her money which means she can eventually get you to your own den. A place with locks and no strangers.”

  My ears perk. Our own den? A safe place.

  Tell him I want to work. Let me out so I can learn!

  The offer is tempting

  Of course, it’s tempting. It’s what we’ve always wanted

  But what’s the catch? It’s too easy

  Easy? He’s asking us to work for a bear den. They probably want us to clean or watch the cubs

  And that is not easy?

  The pup rarely thinks about the past. Now she is pulling memories I thought I’d locked away. Memories of whirring machines that swirl dust. Memories of acrid chemical cleaners and long yellow gloves.

  If I let her think about this much longer she might find other memories. Memories best kept hidden.

  Fine. But first sign of trouble-

  We leave, yeah yeah, I know the drill

  This isn’t my idea

  It’ll be fine, you’ll see. I trust him

  The pup trusts too easily. But the prospect of our own den was too much to pass up. I’ll remain alert. The first sign of trouble I’ll take over. I’ll protect my pup, even if it’s from herself.