Chapter 4
Chapter Four
F iona
I pull the collar of my t-shirt up over my nose to protect it from the flying grit. We’re in a temporary sandstorm caused by the helicopter overhead. My eyes water in the wind.
But I still watch Thunderbear One drop to the ground. For a moment his kilt flies up, answering the age-old question of what werebears wear under a kilt.
And if I was that well-endowed, I’d throw out the boxers and briefs too.
Another battle cry, and the second Thunderbear leaps out of the helicopter. Both of them land on the road, one a few yards in front of us, the other behind us. The helicopter pilot gives us a thumbs up as he passes, steering the helicopter away and out of sight.
With their backs to us, they start walking towards the respective oncoming SUVs.
As one, they rip off their kilts, giving us a view of a pair of very fine full moons before exploding into giant bears. Their paws thud onto the pavement, shaking the road as they charge the SUVs, roaring.
The black SUVs keep coming. The windows roll down and black gun muzzles appear.
“Take cover!” Declan cries.
Laurie pulls Allison behind my boulder and covers her with his tall, gangly body.
I squint through my shotgun sight then yelp as someone grabs my ankle and pulls me down.
“Look out, lass!” Declan tries to cover me.
“Fuck off!” We both wrestle until I can get free and peek over a rock to watch the battle.
Thunderbear One is up on its back paws. He’s hooked his front paws around the SUV grill, and as I watch, he wrenches the entire vehicle sideways with enough force, the SUV flips and tumbles off the road and down the incline. Gunshots ring out and Thunderbear One roars. He charges again, leaping onto the second SUV and ripping into the roof with scythe-like claws. He gouges the metal open like the car’s made of tinfoil. A gun pokes up to fire at him, and he grabs it, snaps it in half and whips the pieces down to brain the enemy in the car underneath him.
Thunderbear 2 sets his shoulder against one of his SUVs and pushes it backwards. The tires whir, smoking, and men shout, firing their guns at the giant brown bear. Bullets bite at its fur, and he bellows.
“Feck,” Declan mutters. I’m on my feet before I know it, sighting through my shotgun. Nights when the nightmares take over and I can’t sleep, I go out to my makeshift shooting range and shoot holes into as many empty tin cans I can find. All that practice has to be good for something.
The forerunner SUV has turned now. I squint and aim for the driver. My first bullet hits the door. The second makes the guy's head explode.
“They’re not vampires,” I shout. “They’re human.”
Why they're driving vampire vehicles with tinted windows and a mystery sewer scent we’ll have to solve after we’ve won the fight.
I fire again and again but can’t get a good shot in before a hail of bullets comes my way, and I have to take cover.
“Get ‘em!” Declan runs to the bus and slides the door open. He pulls up a floor panel and reveals bottle after bottle. Brown and unlabeled.
“What’s that?” I shout.
“Rotgut.” He pops the cork, and the scent singes my nose hairs. He winks at me, and the corners of my lips turn up despite my best intentions. “Extra flammable.”
Parker rushes up, stuffs a rag in to the top and lights it.
Declan slinks down the road, ducking behind boulders for cover until he can pitch the flaming Molotov cocktail into the open window of one of the SUVs.
I rush to set down my empty shotgun and help Parker open a second bottle. By the time we make our own cocktails, the battle is almost over.
Thunderbear Two pushes the forerunner SUV backwards into the second one, plowing both cars back step by step towards a cliff. Thunderbear One peels back the roof of his SUV like a can of sardines and pulls shooters out and tosses them off the mountain.
I dash up and toss my bottle into one of the SUVs. Thunderbear Two uses the cover to rip open the front hood of the other SUV, tear out the engine, and toss it at the second.
“Lass! Run!” Declan comes flying up to me, his face a mask of fear. He hits me, and we dive off the road, behind a boulder, as the two SUVs explode.
The werebears push the flaming wreckage off the cliff. They stand shoulder to shoulder to watch it bounce down the rocks, then turn to each other and smack their huge paws together in a high five.
Behind me, Laurie helps Allison to her feet. They’re both covered in dust but otherwise look fine. Parker looks shaken, but Declan dances like he just scored a touchdown. The scent of 180 proof pure grain alcohol is strong on the air. Someone’s drinking the cocktail part of the Molotov cocktail.
I stride to Declan and grab the brown bottle out of his hands. The smell alone eats through the lining of my esophagus, but once the liquor’s in my belly, it spreads a much-needed warmth through my limbs.
“You’re a lass after me own heart.” Declan leans close to tell me, a hand over his heart. He really is compelling, with his dark hair and dancing dark eyes. I don’t want to respond to his flirting, but my body doesn’t get the memo.
“This stuff is dangerous,” I mutter and take another swig. Declan waggles his brows at me, and a curious twinge twists my nethers.
“Later,” I mouth to him and turn to greet our rescuers.
The werebears have shrunk down into the shape of two identical young men with broad shoulders and tall, lean bodies still filling in with muscle. Their hands and feet are large. They’ve still got some growing to do. They’ll tower over most shifters, even when they’ve reached full size.
“Who are these guys?” I ask Declan.
“Hutch and Canyon,” Declan points them out. “I tink.”
“Canyon’s the one who doesn’t wear a shirt,” Parker says.
“Twins?”
“Triplets. Their brother Bern was flying the bird.”
“Where did they come from?”
“Bad Bear Mountain,” Thunderbear One calls. He winks at me as he strolls past to pick his kilt up off the road.
The second brother jogs up, his kilt and billowy shirt in place “Hutch here. We caught a weird scent and came to check it out.”
“Good thing too,” Thunderbear One, aka Canyon says. “That was a rush.” He picks up a bottle of rotgut and gives it a sniff.
“Are you even old enough to drink?” Parker scowls.
Canyon shrugs. “I’m old enough to save your tail.”
“And we’re very grateful,” Allison says.
Canyon spots Allison and does a double take at her beauty. His voice drops an octave. “Anytime, ma’am.” He and Hutch bow to her. Laurie blinks and molts a few white feathers.
I roll my eyes. Guys are always falling all over Allison, and she never takes notice of them. She does seem to enjoy Laurie’s attention, though.
“So who were those guys? And why did they smell like vampires?”
“I noticed that too,” Hutch wrinkles his nose. “Humans hired by vampires, do you think?”
“If they were, we better get a move on,” Parker says. “Sun’s about to set.” The last rays of light slant over us, bathing the world in a reddish gold glow.
“Where you guys headed?” Hutch asks.
Parker explains our mission.
“The king of vampires?” Canyon wrinkles his nose. “Do you think these guys worked for him?”
“If they did, they’d be helping us, not hunting us,” I say.
“So they’re chasing us down to stop us?”
“Vampire politics,” Declan scoffs.
“They can’t attack Lucius, so they go after us,” I say. “They think we’re the weakest link.”
“Well, we sure learned them, didn’t we?” Canyon says.
Hutch elbows him. “Grammar.”
Canyon gives his brother the finger, and Hutch rolls his eyes, turning back to us to ask, “What’s the package you’re picking up, anyway?”
We all exchange a glance. “We’re not sure,” I say. “But it’s for the king of the vampires. It could be anything.”
“Let’s get a move on.” Parker has an anxious eye on the setting sun. “If vampires are involved, when night falls, we’ll be sitting ducks.”
It’s decided that we’ll walk down the road, while the werebears push the bus and Parker steers. In the end, they only have to go a mile because Bern pulls up in a Jeep.
“Perfect timing,” Canyon says with satisfaction.
“Hauled butt to get here,” Bern says. He looks a lot like his brothers, except all in black, down to the kilt and a cool pair of New Rock boots. I’d be tempted to steal them, but Bern is a friend who just saved our lives, and no matter what people think of my animal, I do have standards.
He hitches the bus to his vehicle, and everyone squeezes in, except for Canyon and Hutch, who opt to run the route and scent the enemy. They pull their pairs of tennis shoes out of the trunk–I didn’t notice they were barefoot until now–and jog into the brush.
It’s still a tight squeeze. I end up practically on Declan’s lap.
“Sorry.” I shift, and then go still. There’s a hard ridge under my butt, and it’s a lot bigger than I’d expect anything belonging to a short king like Declan to be.
“No worries,” he grits out. No innuendo, just a pained tinge to his voice. I’m tempted to rub myself against him, but I do him a favor and perch on his knee.
“It’s not safe to travel far with vampires on our tail.” Parker can’t stop looking over his shoulder. I also feel a prickle between my shoulder blades, like someone is watching.
“And we need to sleep sometime,” I add. Allison’s eyes are heavy. She’s on Laurie’s lap, leaning into him until their scents mesh in a blend of sweet flowers and soft cotton balls. They make such a cute couple. I should be upset about this, but I bet Laurie would do anything to make Allison happy.
Allison deserves that.
“We need a hideout,” Parker says.
“I know a place.” Bern hits the gas.